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Peter sat across from my desk as we discussed life and all things personal. Peter was my married friend, but his wife was constantly gone with their daughter doing pageants. We talked about anything and everything, both of us in our latter thirties, both of us hungry for something more than we received from our marriages. “Guess I’ll go home and rub one out again tonight. Shit, I sit here with you talking about sex and get so horny,” Peter said as his dark eyes danced over my face. “Poor guy. Pop in a good porn movie,” I suggested. “Shit. I need some real flesh action. Cindy came home a couple of days ago, she gave me a quick blow job but didn’t want me touching her because she just fixed her hair. She looked so fucking good too. The hummer was nice, but it doesn’t keep me for a week,” Peter said. My brow furrowed as I thought about my own marriage and how Chuck and I are in a boring rut. We have sex maybe once or twice a month if we’re lucky. He worked late at the PD while I sat up at the dealership talking trash with a salesman all day. I chuckled. “You know, Chuck and I may be home all the time, but we rarely get together. He’s always playing video games, or engrossed in some movie, or he’s talking to his dad or brother on the phone. By the time he comes to bed, I’m asleep, and he’s too tired, anyway. So I probably have as much sex as you do in a month,” I said. “But you do take care of yourself, right?” Peter asked. I knew where the conversation was heading. “Yes, I have a hand-held shower massager and a jack rabbit vibrator. Appliances do well and I probably do it once a week,” I said as I rocked in my office chair. “Just once a week? Fuck, I get off daily or at least every other day,” Peter said.