Good Answer

Prologue:

Is it love or lust?

A duet from 1977 is sung with the words firing rapidly back and forth, breathlessly negotiating the heat of passion between the young lovers before their first time.

[Sung in a female voice]

Stop right there! I gotta know right now,

Before we go any further, do you love me?

Will you love me forever? Do you need me?

Will you never leave me?

Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?

Will you take me away, and will you make me your wife?

[Trying to downplay it and convince her to give in, the guy and girl go back and forth several times. Finally the male voice says]

I couldn't take it any longer, Lord I was crazed.

And when the feeling came upon me like a tidal wave,

[I] Started swearing to my God and on my mother's grave,

That I would love you to the end of time!

[... Afterwards the male despondently sings]

I'll never break my promise or forget my vow,

But God only knows what I can do right now.

I'm praying for the end of time, it's all that I can do,

Praying for the end of time, ... so I can end my time with you!

Lyrics from the song in 1977 by Meatloaf; "Paradise by the Dashboard Light."

Intro:

I was the second of four kids in our family, the only girl, with me and my brothers about evenly spaced two to three years apart. Having those two younger brothers vying for her time, my mother didn't dote on me with girlie things when I was young. So, I grew up being more of a tomboy, crude and energetic. I learned from the other girls in our neighborhood to do my nails and hair and how to dress to attract boys. And without the hovering of a mother providing warnings, I was rather flirty and always looking for boys.

When I left home for college, my roommate, Lana, turned out to be the same. We bonded well, always on the lookout for boys to tease and use for our fun. Lana became my best friend forever, literally, as we continued our speed dating and partying even after college.

We shared an apartment after graduation, splitting the cost of rent and other living expenses. I found a good job to pay my half. And although Lana never seemed to land on any full-time job, only working part-time as a model, she always came up with her half to cover the rent and expenses.

With her finely tuned body and man-killer looks, Lana did some photo shoots for income. It was intermittent work. But she always had guys drooling over her and I think they were often willing to help her pay her bills.

I wasn't a fashion model, even though I worked out to keep my shape and appearance at her killer level. Afterall, I didn't want her to be embarrassed to be seen with me when we went out to the clubs together. It wasn't a catty competition between us. We were in our mid-twenties, just two friends having fun and never serious about where we were going in life.

What's Love Got to Do with It?

I took my order to a small table in the coffee shop, away from any prying ears and I impatiently waited. My mind was awhirl, still wrestling with what to say first. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, I didn't know where to start.

She came in and ordered her drink, and I watched my mother carrying her drink when she approached the table. I still hadn't really decided on what I would say or what I wanted to know. I only learned what this was about after her call the previous evening. So, when she sat down across from me, I said the first things on my mind, blurting out, "Erik said he told you what he found. Did you tell him who it was? Did dad know? How could you do that to him? To us? Why didn't you ever tell us?"

I fired the questions out so fast, it must have sounded like I was babbling, but I was still in shock. When mom called the previous evening, she kept it short, just saying there was something she needed to discuss with me face-to-face and not over the phone. Minutes after she hung up, my youngest brother, well that's no longer completely true either, but nevertheless Erik called and told me!

Now I found it hard to believe our mother could sit there in front of me looking so calm about it!

"Take a breath, Linda," she said, using a calm conversational tone. "If you want to learn anything, then you need to pause to listen," and she was using that instructional tone as usual, which I always found insulting, as if she's dismissing my feelings or treating me like a child.

"Now, wouldn't it be exciting to learn something new?" she asked in a cheerful tone, as if talking to a toddler, then went on scolding the adult in me with "Or do you just want to shout your accusations in ignorance?"

I took several deep breaths, as I sat here fuming with this family secret now coming out.

Erik, my youngest sibling was in college, and as part of one of his elective courses was tasked to research a family link to some event in history. Looking into our genealogy, he eventually sent off for one of those DNA test kits and asked me to use it, and for me to give him access to the online results. I didn't ask him why, and it didn't dawn on me at the time that he should be the one taking the DNA test for our family ancestry. But I swabbed my throat and sent the test off two months earlier.

So, when mom called, I'd already forgotten about that test. She said she wanted to talk to me about something private without my friend and roommate, Lana, around. We agreed to meet here in the coffee shop today. Then Erik called me right after she hung up and told me what he found in our DNA!

When I didn't reply to my mother about shouting in ignorance, she calmly began, "Your father was in the Army for four years, starting right after college. His unit deployed to the war zone for his first time for one year. The army unit's family support group was a great help for those of us left behind, occasionally organizing get-togethers so we could talk to each other, and offer to help each other whenever we could. While we waited for our spouse to return, most of us were raising our kids in our single-parent homes a long way from any close family to help us. Do you know how hard it is raising three toddlers by yourself, and trying to work a part-time job?"

"I don't have kids, but I can guess," I answered.

"I wasn't much older than you are now," she continued. "but with three kids. I was busy every morning getting you and your brother up and off to school and dropping your younger brother off at daycare. Then I'd go to work and after a few hours, pick you three up from two locations, stop to shop for food, cook dinner, go over homework with you, and settle the three of you into bed every night. Then do it again and again, day after day, week after week, twenty-four-seven. A year at your age seems like forever. After a month or two, it feels like there's no end in sight!"

She paused for effect to let that sink in, maybe expecting me to apologize for implying she did anything wrong. I just said, "It's the job you chose," and I glared at her, still waiting to be enlightened to her side of Erik's story.

"Do you remember your young friend, Jillie, when you were in kindergarten?" mom asked. "You used to have sleepovers. Remember?"

"Yeah," I finally answered. "I remember a few of those times. But she stopped visiting. I don't know what ever happened to her."

"Jillie's mom was a truck driver in your dad's unit," mom explained "and Jillie's mom was deployed at the same time. In the modern Army, it's not just wives left behind, but there are husbands, too, with the same problems of raising kids alone. Your little friend, Jillie, missed her mom, and her dad told us at one of the family support meetings that he wished his daughter had someone like her mother around to talk to. So, I suggested he bring her over to our house for playdates with you. When Jillie's dad dropped her off one evening for her first sleepover with you, he planned to come by early the next morning to pick her up. That was three months after your dad was gone, and by then I missed having another adult in the evenings to talk to. I invited him to stay for a glass of wine. After the second bottle was empty, I told him he had too much to drink and shouldn't drive. And why should he waste time driving home, just to come back again in a few hours to pick her up?"

"Jillie and I had a lot of sleepovers," I said as I realized where this was going, now understanding. "... Did dad know?" I asked, trusting that she'd tell the truth, since dad wasn't alive anymore to ask.

"I was so busy and distracted," mom said. "With the stress of taking care of you kids and constantly worrying about your dad, that stress threw my body clock off. I learned too late that extreme stress can make birth control pills less reliable, and my periods weren't regular. I was already three months pregnant before I realized it. When the clinic doctor confirmed it, your dad still wasn't due back for another few months. So, I couldn't even think of hiding it or pretending it was his. But your dad was still there with me for the birth."

And there it was; "My baby brother, Erik is Jillie's half-brother, too," I said, and mom just acknowledged with a nod of her head.

"Erik learned from his DNA test that he had a half-sister he never heard of," mom replied. "That's why he asked the three of you to take those tests."

"That must have crushed dad," I said sadly. "Did you love him? Jillie's dad, I mean. Or did you stop loving dad?" I wasn't ready yet to even think about whether Jillie's mom knew or how she must have reacted when she came back from the war. One thing at a time.

"Of course, I loved your dad," mom said harshly. "But that has nothing to do with having someone there when you need them. I told your father before he left for the deployment that I would understand if he got some relief with another woman in that war zone. So, before he returned, I was honest. I contacted him and told him I was pregnant. He still came back to me, to us. That's what love is, always wanting the best for each other, and still wanting to be together. I knew what he did when he was deployed. He wasn't a saint, either. And he knew what I did while he was away. We still wanted to be with each other whenever he wasn't deployed."

"But you cuckolded him!" I exclaimed. "I mean REALLY cuckolded him, with another man's child and everything!"

"And he messed around when he was deployed," mom said, casually, easily as if it didn't mean anything. "I pointed out that he might have impregnated one of his flings, and we still didn't know if one of them might come after him for child support. I don't know how many other half-siblings you kids might find with these new DNA tests. But Erik's the only one by me. Your dad was honest about his extra-marital activities. So, he couldn't hold it against me when I had that accident, and I didn't realize it until it was too late. Your father and I resolved our issues."

I just shook my head, only half believing what she was saying.

One of the reasons I wasn't seriously dating any one guy was I didn't want to deal with a guy's insecurities and jealousy. Neither Lana nor I were seriously looking for a husband to settle down. We were just sport-fucking for the fun of it, with most men backing away after a few dates, unable to accept our free-spirited natures. And here was my mother basically telling me that's exactly what she and dad did after they were married! They messed around and stayed together!

"Love doesn't require sex," mom continued. "There are couples who love each other, even when one can't perform. And sex doesn't require love, just lust, stress, or loneliness! Ultimately, love is not about sex but rather wanting each other more than anything or anyone else. Yes, it's nice to start out vowing to 'forsake all others.' But over time, things change. When you're forced apart for a long time, the temptations are sometimes impossible to resist. Your dad and I did want each other! But we couldn't have each other all the time. When we were together, I made sure your father always wanted to come back to me!"

Incredible as that may sound, it was something I would never forget.

My brothers and I never found any other half-siblings, ... yet. But it's a big world.

A Few Years later:

Lana and I were lying on a beach, treating ourselves to some girl-time together after she returned from her latest two-week get-away. We were wearing micro-bikinis and enjoying the sunny day. We chose these outfits to maximize our tans on as much exposed skin as possible. We didn't want any tan lines showing with whatever else we might wear later. We were both comfortable enough with our bodies to lay out here in the nude, ignoring any gawkers who would enjoy the view. But this wasn't that kind of beach.

Lana sat up on her beach towel, handing me her cellphone.

"Here, Linda. Take a picture of me to update my Facebook photos." Then she stood and walked a few steps down the sand toward the water as I aimed the phone camera at her and began clicking pics.

As she posed and jumped around, I clicked away, taking dozens of shots for her to browse through. One good one was when she jumped up with her hands over her head and she picked her legs up, making her almost look like she was flying. Her ample, heaving chest moved in an awkward, unflattering way. I told her to repeat that jump several times as I took more shots, hoping at least one would catch her with the right expression when her boobs were in the best position.

When she sat down on her towel again, I handed her the cellphone and she began browsing the pics, and she casually asked, "So, who's your latest interest? You haven't mentioned anyone for a while."

"I don't know," I admitted. "I've been slowing down. There's no one at work. And you've heard my complaints about the sleaze we've been meeting in the clubs. I'm just not feeling it with anyone lately."

"How long has it been for you?" she asked as she put the phone down and looked at me. "If you don't get laid, after a while you might grow cobwebs down there."

"It hasn't been that long, only a few months," I said with a chuckle. "I'm just not looking for a quick one-night-stand anymore."

"I've got a guy for you, his name's Byron," Lana said. "I met him at one of my modeling gigs about a month ago. He's the tall, muscular, and handsome dreamy-type."

"Another model?" I asked, assuming that's how they met. She's complained before that those handsome, male models never have any money and insist on splitting the checks with a date. She said one even asked her for a loan on their first date! "No thanks. I'm not looking for any guy who might ask me for a loan."

"I never ask any man for money," Lana said as if I meant she'd do the same. But I knew she wasn't offended. "Most men always insist on helping me. But, no, this guy, Bryon isn't a model. He's one of the money guys behind the scenes checking on the work we're doing in the photo shoots," Lana explained. "He's great in bed. But he's looking for some kind of commitment. And you know me; I can't do that again, at least not right now."

"You already fucked him?" I asked.

"Of course," she replied. "I wouldn't recommend someone for you unless I tried him out first. If you're tired of dating around, he might be right for you."

"So, you're giving me your used and broken ones," I said with a chuckle.

"He's a great catch," Lana replied. "He's just not for me right now."

"If I decide he's a 'keeper'," I pointed out, "then you're not getting him back."

"There'll be others," she said.

First Date:

Lana was right. Byron seemed like a good catch for the right girl. He was handsome, with a good job and a pleasant personality which made our dinner date easy and enjoyable. And I already knew he was 'rumored' to be great in bed, which I planned to verify after dinner! So, the fact that he had been with Lana before me had to come up in our conversation.

"We had a few dates and some fun together," he said when I asked him about dating my best friend. "But does Lana ever settle on just one guy to fall in love?"

"That's a good question," I admitted. "Lana's had a tough life. Her father abandoned the family when she was ten years old, and her mother gave the kids up for adoption two years later. Teenagers aren't likely to be adopted. So, Lana spent her teenage years in an orphanage, until she was old enough to leave. With no family to live with, she applied for some grants to go to college, and we roomed together."

"I didn't know about her family," he said, looking a little shocked. "I guess that's not something she blurts out on the first few dates."

##

We discussed everything over that dinner, including love and hypocrisy of vows. When it came to religion, I told him that when I was a teenager, I stopped going to church. I wasn't going to Confession to ask forgiveness for something I knew I was going to do again that night!

Since he had already been with my close friend Lana, and with my own relatively fun and open nature, it didn't take us very long before the conversation devolved into a discussion of sex. We talked about sex being for our mutual pleasure! Then I had to ask;

"So, would you want to do Lana again?"

"Of course," he easily replied. "Now, don't take this the wrong way, because your lips look good, so kissable. But Lana's probably had injections to make her lips look ... well, how else to describe them; 'fuckable'! You know the type, big and pouty. The ad agencies look for those lips in models. They know lips like her's will catch the attention of every man, sending the subliminal suggestion they'll want to slide something into her mouth."

I had to chuckle at that, appreciating his crude honesty. "Good answer," I admitted. "Lips aside, I know she has a killer body. So, if you said 'No' to wanting to do her again, I'd know you were lying."

##

After our long dinner date, Byron offered me a ride home and I invited him into the apartment. Lana knew to check her messages before coming home in the evening, and I texted that I wanted some privacy for the whole night. She had so many men's phone numbers she could call for a spur of the moment hook-up, I never had to worry about her finding a bed to sleep in.

I took Byron to my bed, and Lana was right. He was great!

We took our time as we undressed each other, running our hands over the other's skin. Feeling a man's hands squeezing bare parts of my body again felt exhilarating. And when I dropped to my knees to slide his pants down, my eyes widened. It may sound like a cliché, but I actually swallowed when I saw it. Had it been so long since my last guy, that I was really salivating?

With our slow striptease, by that time he was almost hard, and I didn't need to take that long, fleshy shaft in my mouth to encourage him. I smiled and got up from my knees, turning to lay on the bed, beckoning him to bring his impressive manhood to me.

Lying on my back with my legs spread and waiting, he wasn't in any rush. He crawled from the bottom of the bed and stopped to go down on me. He pushed my legs up and back to spread me open wider. It only took him a few minutes, working his magic with his tongue and fingers on me before my legs shook in the air as I screamed, "Oh, that's it!... Oh! OH! ... YES! "

My toys over the last few months haven't made me feel like this. I missed this, having someone else's touch, the uncertainty, the unknown of what to expect next, it adds to the excitement. Having a real lover touching me and focused on exciting me is the best.

When my orgasm subsided, Byron rolled a condom on and moved into position over me for his turn. And the first man to enter me after months of my sexual solitude, pushed aside any imagined cobwebs with his thick, long tool.

I looked into my lover's eyes, reaching a hand to the back of his head, pulling his face down to my kissable lips on his. The subtle tart smell of his aftershave barely touched my nose, and I knew that scent would remind me of this moment for the rest of my life as our tongues wrestled. I could still taste myself in his mouth from my first glorious orgasm.

Now that he was finally in me, gently sliding in and pulling back out, he still wasn't in any rush. It's as he said earlier, about sex being for our mutual pleasure! I was slowly savoring every morsel of this after dinner dessert.

After my second orgasm, I stopped shaking and he withdrew, spent.

"Oh, that felt fantastic!" I admitted.

##

The second round started when I went down on him. With a minute of sucking his member it showed some interest, and I decided to return the favor of that first orgasm. I rolled off the side of the bed to kneel on the floor.

"I feel like sucking cock," I boldly announced, waiting for him. "Roll over here and put your feet on the floor. It's easier on my neck."

He moved into position, laying across the bed with a knee on either side of me. I pulled his hips encouraging him to move his butt and balls to the edge of the bed. I teased the head of his member with my tongue, then took the shaft into my mouth to start getting him fully hard again. Bobbing my head on it, I looked toward his face with his head propped up by two pillows to occasionally make eye contact. When his shaft was stiff, I held it in my right hand as I turned my head, pressing my lips to his balls, taking turns sucking on them as I stroked his cock beside my cheek.

I looked up at his eyes, and I felt him stiffen in response, now getting as hard as possible. Releasing his ball from my lips, I dropped my head lower, licking the spot below and between them until I felt his balls jerk just a little showing that I found his most sensitive spot. Then I planted my lips there to suck as I jerked his cock with my hand at my forehead.

Byron grabbed the back of my head with both hands holding me in place sucking under his balls, and he began to moan in pleasure. Hearing his sounds excited me and I did the same, moaning, with my own excitement building. I slipped my free hand down between my legs, playing with my clit trying to time my own orgasm with his.

With my mouth busy, I could only grunt encouraging, affirmative sounds like "Uh huh, uh huh...", stroking the shaft faster and sucking that sensitive spot harder. Then I took the stiff shaft back into my mouth all the way as I pressed down onto it, with the head pushing against the back of my throat, letting him feel it as it entered. I didn't back off. He felt the tightness of my throat as he slipped past the resistance and I pressed my nose against him, holding that position for a few seconds without gagging.

Backing off, I went back to sucking his balls and when he started bucking his hips, I sensed that he was getting close. I took the head back into my mouth and rapidly bobbed on it until his cock started twitching and he grabbed the back of my head, holding me there.

Inhaling deeply through my nose, I held my breath and pressed forward, taking the head of his shaft back into my throat. Then I felt the thick vein along the bottom of his cock throb against my tongue as he lost control. He shot the first two massive blasts down my throat before I backed off and allowed the rest to fill my hungry mouth.

Feeling him cum and tasting it, my legs began shaking with my own orgasm. I felt the brief gush of wetness between my thighs as my most intense orgasm hit me! It felt like my whole body was shaking and I greedily glugged down his seed as he emptied himself in my mouth.

When his throbbing stopped, I looked up at him, making eye contact as he sat up to look down at me. I tilted my head back a little and opened my lips wide so he could see the last of the thick fluid sliding across my tongue into my open mouth and pooling inside. I kept the head at my mouth over my tongue, waiting for the last drops to ooze out. I didn't touch or tickle it with my tongue, knowing how sensitive some men can be right after they cum. I just waited, looking up into his adoring eyes. Then I closed my lips carefully over the head to catch that last drop. Looking back at his eyes, I smiled at him as I swallowed. I quickly kissed the purple head, then chastised him by pointing out; "And you thought my lips weren't fuckable!"

"My gawd, you're incredible," he exclaimed.

##

After lying together beside each other for a while, I sucked him up for the third time. He rolled over to get on top of me kneeling between my legs as he put on another condom. Then he leaned down over me, and I guided him in to fuck me again. I held him against me after we both came, not wanting it to end. We were cuddling together like that with him still inside for a minute or two when his shrinking tool slipped out, leaving the condom inside me. Seeing that the protection was missing from his shriveled member, he had to feel around to find the end and pull it out of me.

I could see some of his cum on the open end of the condom, and asked, "What if I get pregnant?" I was on birth control and not really worried about it. But I wondered what he was thinking or how he'd react.

"We'd have to get married," Byron replied sounding serious, "I'm not going to have a kid of mine raised without a father or by another man."

"Good answer!" I admitted.

Byron crawled up on the bed to lie beside me, and I propped my head up with my right hand and arm as we went on to discuss relationships and spouses.

"But what about me?" I eventually asked. "If I got pregnant, how would you feel being forced to marry me? Wouldn't you blame me for it?"

"It takes two people, and I would be just as responsible for it," he said.

"Good answer, " I admitted.

"As long as we're there for each other," he continued, "what else is there?" and I had to think about that. "I like sex. And if you do too, what more could I want?"

"How much sex would you want?" I asked.

"Ideally, it would be four to six times per week," he replied.

"One woman can't do it EVERY week that often for a whole month," I pointed out to this clueless guy. "It sounds like you'd want to have several girlfriends on call."

"No, that's why Lana wasn't right for me," he said. "She has that same idea that it doesn't matter, as long as everyone is getting what they want, regardless of who they're with. I can't do that. I see that as a bad strategy in the long term. I'm looking for one woman who just wants to be with me, not one who's shopping around."

"But one woman can't take care of you four to six times every week," I reminded him. "We have our times each month when it's not comfortable."

"Why?" he asked. "Do you schedule a week-long tooth ache every month?" and with the way he was smiling after saying that, I knew he was joking.

"Asshole!" I said, as I smiled and shook my head. I liked his confidence and the way he was able to so casually joke about sex. "I'm not going to be your sex slave. But let's see, ..." and I paused as I did the math. "One week divided by four, your minimum, would be forty-two hours. So, if you want it and it was less than say ... forty-one hours since the last time, then you can't make me feel guilty telling you to take care of it yourself."

"But if it's been more than forty-two hours, then you'd have to do something to take care of me," he said with a grin.

"I could live with that," I nodded my head as I replied. I laid my head on his shoulder, saying "We'll call it my '41-hour rule'. "

"That sounds like a plan," he said as he laid back and held his arm out for me to lie down and cuddle.

Laying my head comfortably on his shoulder, I ran a hand over his chest.

"One more rule," I said, remembering my mother's advice. "Never lie or hide things from me. If you ever go on a business trip, you need to tell me everything. And be honest with me if you've been with someone else. Don't take that as my approval to play around! Just don't lie to me if you do."

"Of course," he easily agreed. "And the same goes for you, never lie to me or deceive me."

"We have a deal!" I exclaimed, and I thought to myself. 'Lana's not getting him back!'

Epilogue, Over Twenty Years Later:

"I called a company to find out how much it would cost to fix that leak in the hot tub," I said. "They quoted me a price of three thousand dollars, because they have to empty the tub and haul it back to their shop. They need to remove all of the insulation to find the leaks."

"I took the sides off of it this morning," Byron said. "I found a cracked T-connector, drained the tub, replaced the bad connector, and refilled the tub. It should be hot enough for you to use by this evening. And we'll give it a few days to see if there are any other leaks."

"Finally! That's a relief! You know how much I've missed my hot tub, since that power outage during the cold snap a few months ago. I'll be in it tonight with a glass of wine!"

"Well, you know me," he said. "I won't charge you three thousand. I do it for the blowjobs."

"We'll see," I said coyly. "Maybe later, after my glass of wine. ... I saw on Facebook that Lana posted a picture holding a champagne glass on a beach on her first day of their Caribbean trip. Her latest boyfriend took her there for a week to an all-inclusive resort."

"How long has she known this one?" he asked.

"About two weeks," I said.

Byron was shaking his head as he said "She never changed, even after her second divorce. Still looking for another 'Sugar Daddy'. That will only work for her as long as she keeps her model looks. But that seems like a questionable long-term plan."

"You'd still do her," I pointed out, "Don't lie."

"Only with your permission," he admitted.

"And that's not going to happen," I said. "So, you're stuck with just me."

"As long as you're taking care of me and relieving my stress, who else would I ever want?"

"That's what it's about," I admitted, "relieving each other's stress."

"How many couples marry," Byron asked "with the promise of loving each other forever, then get divorced? Remember the old song by Meatloaf, 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light'? The guy promised 'I'll love you til the end of time', just to get laid. Then after sex, he says he's 'Praying for the end of time!' I guess after marriage, some people forget why they got together in the first place."

"Mom said love was when a couple always wants to come back to each other, regardless of what happens," I pointed out. Then I had to ask, "So, after making me your wife so long ago, do you still love me?"

"Well," he replied, "I'm not praying for the end of time with you."

"Good answer,' I said with a chuckle. And I think he'll get that blowjob later for fixing my hot tub.

The End

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