Stroking the Male - Segment II

Susan bathes. More chores will soon come, dinner preparation for siblings too young in Melanie’s case... or too inattentive in Randy’s case... to ready a nutritious meal.

She dries herself, dresses and descends to the kitchen. Removing various items from the refrigerator she realizes a quick check of her email must come now or be delayed well into the evening.

Strolling to the den, a nimble click of the mouse reveals mail has been received. A timely reply to her Craig’s List quest.

    Ms. Susan,

    I read your email with assiduity.

    Such heartbreak for you, such contemptible behavior on the part of your brother. Young males are given to discover themselves, that I have dealt with quite forthrightly, many times over many years.

    But the catalyst for your brother’s self arousal is most daunting for you and disturbing to me.

    We should speak. I can help. All information is held in strict confidence of course.

                    Mrs. Matilda Breckenridge

The note ends with a phone number. Susan smiles in noting the term 'assiduity', Mrs. Breckenridge evidently a woman of letters.

Should she call? The area code is local, the exchange familiar. In contemplating her response, the buzz of the clothes dryer denotes the laundry’s completion, reminding Susan of the purging of young Randy’s seed from sheets well soiled. To be splattered again?

There is time. A casserole into the oven, she’ll have Melanie make the salad. Athletics for Randy and drama club for Melanie bring the school bus late on Fridays.

Returning to the den, she dials the offered number, shutting the door to assure privacy should there be an earlier than expected homecoming.

“Hello,” the tone high pitched, nasal and mature, comfortingly mature.

“This is Susan, in response to your email.”

“Oh, yes, you poor girl. A brother into nasty porn... and such deviant porn. It is good that you have called. At his age such conduct does not bode well... for you as well as him.”

Small talk ensues, Susan learning of the vast experience of Mrs. Matilda Breckenridge in handling boys. Susan’s concerns are further mollified.

When the subject of befouled bedding is broached, Susan shyly smiles. She learns she is not alone.

“I can best help by meeting your brother. You’re nearby?”

Susan’s concern for confidentiality assuaged, she offers her address.

“Perhaps next Saturday, one week from tomorrow at 10:00 a.m.. I’ll send you an email of things I will need. Meanwhile it is best not to confront the tyke. I will handle that.”

“That will work fine, Mrs. Breckenridge. I’ll assure his sister Melanie is with a friend.”

“Yes, that would be best... for now.”  

In hanging up, Susan wonders if her trust is misplaced. But for the tone of voice... erudite... the choice of words... scholarly... the detailed descriptions of interaction with pubescent males... she would never be so forthright... in the information divulged... with the invitation to her home.