Slow Hand Curves

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“I was already climaxing again when he flipped me onto my stomach.” Briana Custer blew at her coal black bangs as if her re-telling of last night’s encounter with an old flame had her ready to pop for the sixth time in the last twenty-four hours.

I squirmed in my seat, hoping Bree would run out of steam shortly or my sister-in-law Melinda would finally shut her up.

“And…” Melinda sucked on her strawberry milkshake, her free hand gesturing for Bree to continue. Eight-and-a-half months pregnant and just off an extended bed rest, Melinda had to settle for having a sex life vicariously through Bree.

Having already listened to thirty minutes of Bree recapping sex acts, some I’d never even heard of, I was down to my last nerve. Burying my face in my hands, I groaned.

Bree rolled her eyes at me. “What’s got your granny panties in a knot?”

Much to my horror, Melinda volunteered an answer. “Amber has never-”

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