A One Night Stand

I considered hooking up with one of my old high school lovers that seemed to abound and were hard and ready for some nostalgia sex, especially Leo's best friend Mike, but somehow, I just didn't want to. I still had the afterglow of John surrounding me, and that was too special to sully.

I lived off the memories of my brief affair, and then returned to NY, and reality, after the holidays. My last name is Edwards, so it was not going to be easy for John to find me, even if he had tried. I was pretty sure he hadn't even tried. I hadn't given him a blowjob, so he hadn't become one of my legion of sex slaves.

For reasons I did not fully understand, I couldn't manage to have sex with my boyfriend, either. Yes, I had a boyfriend back home in New York; I had neglected to mention that to John. My boyfriend Stu was not stupid, and he figured out that I had fooled around out in California. He was angry, of course.

"Did you finally have incest with your deranged brother Leo?" he had said, in a moment of uncontrolled anger.

"What if I had?" I asked. "He has the biggest cock north of the border. Do you really expect me to resist that the rest of my life? You know that he's always coming after me."

"He should fuck your mom; that's what he really wants to do, you know," Stu said. "You're just a stand-in. How was it, fucking your brother with his huge cock? How many times did you do it?" Stu seemed to be wallowing in bitterness. It was an aspect of Stu I hated.

"You're disgusting, Stu. You really think my mom, or for that matter - and more importantly - me, would have incest with my brother? You really think that little of me?" I had asked, or screamed, is more accurate.

"It's true though, isn't it? You betrayed me to fuck your own brother. Who's the disgusting one, eh?" Stu said.

That's when I threw my coffee cup at him. It was my favorite coffee cup; Stu had given it to me after our first date. It was hand painted by artisans in Vermont, with naked water nymphs dancing all around it. It was kind of the modern version of an Etruscan coffee cup, if only the Etruscans drank coffee...did they, I wondered?

Well, the fight was a bit too intense, and I offered no make-up sex after it, and well, Stu and I became yet another failed relationship to add to my collection. I knew my mistake: I had given Stu one of my blowjobs too early in our dating, and he had fallen for me hard, even very hard. The world's best blowjob can do that to a man. As a result, I have way too many failed relationships for a woman my age.

All alone now, and enjoying the solitude, my thoughts would often return to John. I hated that he had sold his soul to capitalist greed, using his considerable brain power to help the ruling class remain the ruling class, but that aside, he was truly a wonderful man. Well, some things are just not meant to be, you know?

Anyway, I was well hidden inside New York. Even the NSA would have trouble finding me. Well, maybe not. Those NSA people are good; they're very good, talented, skilled people. I had dated one of them once, and luckily, I had never given him a blowjob, so he wasn't one of my former lovers who stalked me. He could've found me even if I hid behind a mountain in Nepal. John, on the other hand, didn't stand a chance in hell of finding me. I was safe.

I had, however, overlooked the little fact that John's sister was still dating my brother. Leo spilled the beans to Susie as to where I lived in New York, who then of course told her brother John, and one day John showed up at my favorite coffee house, a block away from my apartment. His timing was perfect, since I had just broken up with Stu, my longtime boyfriend.

John asked me out, and since we had already had sex out in California, we both knew what would happen at the end of the date. We dated for a few months, and I fell in love with John, all over again. I tried to stop myself from falling for him, but I just couldn't. It was time, I knew it was time.

I gave John a blowjob. Jesus, that works every time, and it worked on John, too. Now he's my husband. You should have seen Susie at the wedding. We had matching hair: alternating blue and green stripes. I took her to my favorite beauty salon down in the village, and we had our hair done side-by-side. Yes, even hard-core counter culture people like myself go to beauty salons. We're tough, but we're still women.

Susie was the maid of honor, and the best man was John's best friend Philip. Everyone expected, in the age-old tradition, for Susie and Philip to get it on, but Susie of course had eyes only for Leo.

Leo and Susie disappeared somewhere towards the end of the after-marriage party. I couldn't be bothered with their drama and nonsense; I knew they were fucking in a closet somewhere. I was looking forward to my first fuck as a married woman! John was looking forward to another of my incredible blowjobs.

Sometimes, in moments of insecurity, I wonder if he married me for the blowjobs? Not for my sparkling personality, my tattoos and my body jewelry, nor for my sweet and generous soul notwithstanding, John seemed laser focused on having sex with me. It could just be the age-old way men and women express mutual love, right? Probably that's exactly what it was, right? Right? I hate how insecure I am. I really do.

Oscar Wilde once said, in The Importance of Being Earnest, "Every woman becomes their mother. That's their tragedy. And no man becomes his. That's his tragedy."

Ain't it the truth? You know, it was memorable when John got me naked on our wedding night. He read my vaginal tattoo aloud, saying, "Insert Here. Who am I to disobey a tattoo on the woman I love?" and he followed the instructions. Boy, did he!

I gave up. Insecurities be damned: John loves me and I love him. Maybe he'll still love me after I dye his white shoes green, hee, hee. What do you think? Well, I think I married well.