"Did you see your parents naked a lot?" She asked, sitting straight in her chair, both hands clasped on her knee. Very poised.

This almost made me lay down. To this day, I've resisted laying down on the couch. I sit up, with a foot on her coffee table. Sometimes I rest my arm on the pillow. But I never lay down. "No. In fact, as far as I can remember, I don't think I've ever seen them naked."

"So your family wasn't very free with nudity or sex?"

"Definitely not. In fact, when my dad tried to talk with me about sex, it was one of the most awkward conversations of my life. All he got out was 'Um, Adam, there are some things we need to discuss' and I almost shouted 'Yeah, I had a class. Got it figured out. Thanks.'"

"Was there ever any discussion about wet dreams or masturbation when you were younger?"

"I never had any wet dreams. I learned about masturbation early on and started doing that when I was eight or nine. I flipped the fuck out the first time I ejaculated, though. I thought I had done something really, really wrong."

"Did you ask your parents about it?"

"Nope. I was too scared. I just read books on the subject – I can't remember if it was my mother's Physician's Desk Reference, the encyclopedia, or if I waited until I had time at the library, but I found a book that explained it, and researched it until I learned that ejaculation was normal."

"So, after that, masturbation was a pretty frequent occurrence?"

"Not really. I shared a room with my brother until I was a young teen, so it only happened when I could have some time to myself. We weren't allowed to lock our doors, so that meant either when I had the house to myself or if I was out somewhere."

"Out somewhere?"

"Well, I'd sneak outside in the middle of the night or sometimes do it in the bathroom at the library or at school."

"Did you ever get caught? Did you want to get caught?"

"I never wanted to get caught, and I never did. Well, except for that time my dad caught me."

"Oh?" Her eyebrow raised a millimeter.

"Yeah. I was babysitting for a friend of the family's. They just had a small infant who had been asleep the entire night in his bedroom, and I knew where the Playboy collection was. In the middle of the living room, I stripped down completely naked and jerked it like a monkey. When I was done, I accidentally made a little mess on the floor, so I went into the bathroom to clean up. As I'm in the bathroom, I hear the front door open. My clothes were in the main room, along with the magazines and a nice little pile of baby batter, and I heard my dad say 'Adam?'"

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah. The only towel in that bathroom was a little washcloth, so I grabbed it and walked into the living room, using that to cover my junk. It was like something out of a movie, except horribly embarrassing and not at all funny."

"What did he say?"

"Well, I tried to make some excuse about spilling soda on my clothes and trying to dry off, but I don't think he bought it. He looked down at the clothes, the magazine, and the quickly drying jizz, and just said 'Clean that shit up and we'll see you at home.' And then he walked out the door and never mentioned it again."

"Wow. That's fucked up."

"Is that advanced psychological scientific terminology?"

"Nope. It's just fucked up."