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Brother Love Ch. 01

By: qhml1



Chapter 01: The Beginning

I sat behind a desk. It had a lamp, a tablet, and a few pictures on it. Behind me on the wall were some paintings. Starry Night by Van Gogh. Haystacks, by Monet. Paintings that had brought me a lot of comfort over the years.

I had a suit on, but no tie. I wanted to be comfortable, and I never liked wearing a tie.

It wasn't a real office, in a real building. It was a set on a small sound stage. The very first night of my very first talk show. It belonged to a small regional channel, that only reached a viewership in a hundred mile radius. Plus, it had public access on the local cable networks. 

I looked at the camera.

"Hi. My name is Jerry Love. That's right, Love. Really."

"I got the nickname 'Brother' from my friends, because I was always the peacemaker of the group. Always sticking my nose where it didn't belong, trying to make the world a better place. How's that worked out for me so far?"

I paused, rubbing my nose.

"Well, it got it broke. Twice. And I got chewed out a lot. It took me a while before I learned to adopt a live and let live attitude."

I paused and picked up one of the pictures on my desk, turning it towards the camera.

"This is my wife. Oops, I mean my exwife. Beautiful isn't she? Well, she was to me, anyway. I'll probably get into all kinds of trouble for showing this photo without permission, but if you happen to see this or hear about it Deb, this will be the only time."

"I lost my wife last year, along with everything else. I had a pretty good job, made good money. Then I got downsized, along with hundreds of thousands of others. Couldn't find a job making anywhere near what I was used to. Our savings went pretty fast. We lost the fancy cars, the motorcycle, the rest of the toys. Then we lost the house. It, among other things, was just too much. The only bright spot was there were no children. So we joined the ranks of the formerly marrieds.

There was no alimony, nothing much by then to divide, so we just drifted away. I found a job in the next town, and lived with my great aunt Elsa."

"I didn't mind, I was her last living relative and was there twice a week to check on her anyway. I didn't move in until she became too sick to take care of herself."

"She died five months ago."

I paused, struggling to keep my voice even.

"I loved the old girl. She taught me a lot. But it was the last link to my family. I found myself truly alone."

"She had a will I knew nothing about. I got her whole estate. Her huge house and all the antiques. The land she owned on the outskirts of town. And cash."

"It's probably not a lot in the grand scheme of things, but it's a good bit to me. More importantly, she left me this letter."

I held it up and let the camera zoom into it.

"I'm gonna read it now. Part of it, anyway."

"Jerry, if you're reading this I'm gone. I always loved you, felt you were special. You've always been so sensitive to others. You need to be careful, or that trait will destroy you. Take the money and use it. Don't worry about investments or interest, use it to get the answers to all the questions that torment you. I hope it will make you a better and happier person."

I paused to wipe my eyes.

"I thought about it, a lot, and decided to follow her advice. Over the next few months, as long as the money lasts, I'm gonna be asking hard questions about a range of topics. Some of the ones I ask will be some kind of expert in their field, but most will be from average people like you and me. Since I won't have any sponsors, I won't owe anybody anything, so it doesn't matter if anyone doesn't like what I say because it will be out of their control."

I held up another photo.

"This is one of my personal heroes. His name was Tim Russert. He was a reporter for one of the national networks, and hosted a political talk show on Sunday mornings. He was a big guy, with a happy face and a nonthreatening manner. He made you comfortable."

"But if that big, happy, smiling guy asked you a question you were uncomfortable with, you better tell the truth, because he had a video clip or a print quote ready to show if you lied. That's why his show was so good, because he didn't threaten you, just made you aware of the consequences if you chose to lie."

"Why am I telling this story? Because I intend to imitate him. I want my facts doublechecked and verified on any topic I touch. And I need help to do that. If any of you college guys are out there that are qualified to help me and need a job, call this station. They will get me in touch with you."

"That's really all I have to say tonight. I just wanted to introduce myself. I'll have an email address set up by next week, so you can send me feedback or give me suggestions on what you think I should cover. If anyone is watching, thank you for your time."

"If you wonder why I'm doing this, it's because I can. There will be no sponsors, no axes to grind except mine. It's a voyage of self discovery, and I thought I'd invite you along for the ride. I'll continue until I run out of enthusiasm or money, whichever comes first."

"I'd like to close tonight with one of my personal mantras. I don't know who said it originally, but it has stuck with me for years."

"It's better to shake a hand than a fist."

"Goodnight, all."

.................................................

I looked at the camera until the light went off, then grinned at the camera man.

"What do you think?"

"I ain't required to think, bro, just make you look good. I will tell you this. You need another cameraman, so we can switch back and forth to different angles. It breaks up the monotony and keeps the viewers interested."

I agreed with him and had him get another cameraman for the next broadcast. 

Aunt Elsa had left me in pretty good shape. I often wondered if Deb had known about the will she would have hung on. Too late now.

Her house was estimated at eight hundred thousand dollars, her antiques about half that. She left me some money besides what I was spending, enough to live on comfortably for quite a while.

The eighty thousand was in a separate account. She considered it her 'mad money', and wanted me to do the same.

"I know your life has been pretty rough lately. Use this money to try and get your happiness back. Not the old one, that's gone forever. I know, deep down inside, you still love your wife. Sorry, son, but she chose to leave instead of try to tough it out. Don't blame her too much, she was young, and always got what she wanted. Real life was too hard on her. Maybe she'll grow up. Maybe she won't. Either way, it's the path she chose. You're not on that path anymore."

"Take the money and blaze a new path, one you can walk on your own, or with somebody else if you find her. You have your whole life ahead of you, and you're too good a person to to be alone. Someone will come along, I only wish I had lived long enough to see it."

I didn't read that part of the letter on air.

Her letter triggered something in me. What did I want to do? How could I make my life better?

I came up with the idea one night while watching a talk show late at night. Everyone had an agenda. The comedian wanted to further his career. The actress wanted to push her movie, recently nominated for an award. The singer wanted sell more records. The basketball player wanted to push his clothing line. They weren't talk shows anymore, they were a long string of advertisements. I really couldn't fault that, but it made things pretty boring.

But every once in a while, a personal tidbit would slip out, or the host would ask a question that brought an expression of pain.

That was what I wanted. I rather find out why his child was estranged, or her marriage was failing, or that they were facing a terminal illness. How they handled those situations brought out the real person. It made much more interesting viewing.

As much as I wanted to do it, I didn't feel right doing it to strangers. Who better than myself, I thought. I had had more than enough pain, drama, and disappointment in the last two years to last me a lifetime.

I thought about Deb just before I went to sleep that night. Wonder what she would think about all this? I could see her now, tapping her foot and calling me an idiot, all the while smiling.

I doubted she was ever going to see my little experiment. I doubted whether anyone would give a rats' ass in the long run.

But, like  when the hooker asked the midget who he expected to satisfy with that little thing, he just grinned.

"Me, sweetie, just me."

..................................................

I don't know how long this series will last, or how many chapters there will be. Like the story, I intend this to be a voyage of self discovery.

I've never really given much thought to the world around me, being too wrapped up in my own life to worry about anything that didn't affect me or my family directly. 

But I'm getting old now. Almost sixty, and I despair for the world my granddaughter and great nieces and nephews face.

Thanks as always for reading. Votes would be nice, comments would be better.

QHML1
Until next time

Brother Love Ch. 02



I sat at the desk, looking at the camera.

"Good news! At least for me. I found two people to do my research."

I paused.

"Let me rephrase that. I had a lot of resumes sent to me, but these two took the initiative to hunt me down, and threatened me with bodily harm unless I hired them."

"So welcome Josh and Amber to my project. I also got a bonus. Amber has a best friend, Sarah, who is a radio and television major. She came on board, convincing me I needed a producer/director, to keep me from saying something stupid. I hired her, but I've got to tell you, nobody is that good."

"Also, I got another cameraman at the suggestion of Carlos, my original cameraman. No, it's not instead of, it's in addition to."

I paused to look at the cameras Sarah told me to in my ear bud.

"In the future, thanks to these guys, I might actually look like I know what I'm doing."

I turned around to the pictures on the wall. There were two new pictures there, The Scream, and a Wyeth painting, the one of his pig.

I pointed.

"Like these prints? I love art. If you like to watch for little details like that, you'll note they change for every show."

I turned back around.

"Like I said in my original broadcast, this is a show about me, and what I'm interested in. Sarah is pushing me to get to the point, so here it is."

"What do I want to talk about, what do I want to know? Short answer, everything."

"How politics really work. Are the current parties doomed? What will this country be like in fifty years? Will it be better?"

"At some point I want to talk about religion. Why is your God better than ours, and why are you willing to kill me to prove it? Is there really a God? Is it male or female?"

"You name it. Sex. Drugs. Rock and Roll. Food. Global Warming. Murder. Violence. Love. Marriage. Death. Growing Old. Guns. Education. Hunger. Health Care. Poverty. Wealth. Alternative Lifestyles. Illegal Immigration. Art. Afterlife. Which did come first, the chicken or the egg?"

I stopped for a breath.

"There is a bunch more, but that'll do to start. I have a list, and think of things every day to add. I'm sure I'll run out of money long before I run out of topics."

"My first, official show will be in two weeks. My gurus of communication have established a website. It will be on the screen shortly. Please, go on it and state an opinion, something you'd like to see discussed by real people. We may ask you to be a guest, maybe not, but we will always appreciate your input.

"I'll have the subject lined up next week, and will be taking volunteers for guests. There will be another half hour show next week, then the week after it will be a full hour. Maybe longer. If it's a good topic, we might do two shows on it."

"I have one more picture I'd like to show you. Can you zoom in, Carlos?"

It was a young woman, in her early twenties. Long curly hair, she had on a peasant blouse and a long skirt. She was barefoot and there was a wreath of flowers in her hair.

"This is my great aunt Elsa. It was taken in 1967, in San Francisco. That's right, she was a flower child. The stories she would tell! It's due to her I'm getting to chase this silly quest. She gave me the money, but more importantly, she gave me the motivation. More on her later. I hope you're smiling down at me from wherever you are, Elsa. You were always my favorite relative. I love you."

I wiped a tear out of my eye.

"I need to get a little more thick skinned, I think. Maybe not. I don't mind showing emotion, it's what makes us human."

I looked at the camera one more time.

"Remember, hit the site and tell me what you'd like to hear discussed. Until next week."

Just before I faded out, I made one more comment.

"One more thing. In this world, and especially this economy, people need a hand up, more than they need a handout. Goodnight, all."

................................................

As the lights came up Sarah was standing there smiling. Carlos and Ed, the new cameraman, were grinning.

She hugged me.

"we're going to have so much fun. The link to our site has only been up for fifteen minutes, and it's already gotten three hundred messages. I guess someone is out there watching."

That made me feel good. I only paid the group for one day a week, so I would have to read the bulk of them. I hoped I was up to the task.

..................................................

I went back to the huge house I lived in. It could easily qualify for a mansion. Eight bedrooms, two stories, a two bedroom bungalow for the house and groundskeeper. I felt more comfortable there than I did in 'the big house'. Maybe my tastes were a bit more plebian.

I grabbed my great aunts' old guitar. I was taking lessons, something she suggested as a coping technique. She was right, as usual. As I did my scales and worked on chord progressions, my mind emptied. I played a few simple songs, singing. I didn't have a very good voice, but there was no one else around to hear.

Gently placing it on the stand, I rubbed my hand lightly over the autographs. Jimi Hendrix. Jerry Garcia and Phil Lesh. John Sebastian. And a small scribble at the bottom, barely legible. John Lennon. Her very first autograph.

She had met him on a beach in Florida, where they were resting in between dates. It was their first U.S. tour. They were known, but not as famous as they would become, so they could still walk a quiet beach in relative security. She was trying to tune the guitar. After several minutes, he couldn't stand it and came over, offering to do it for her. He stayed, sang a couple of songs with her, drank one of her beers. He invited her to their next show. She never went, and never saw him again. She cried when he got shot, over a nice boy that had helped her tune a guitar, not the rock legend recluse he had become.

The guitar was valued at two hundred twenty thousand, just for the autographs.

I needed to sell the house. Not for financial reasons, I just didn't need the space, and everywhere I looked there were memories of her. God how I had loved that old woman.

................................................

I was ten when I met her the first time, in 1993. She was standing on the porch when I opened the door. She hadn't knocked, I was going out and she didn't have time. She was probably fifty at the time, but looked younger. She had on one of those flowing dresses she favored, sunglasses, and a large straw hat.

She jumped a little when I opened the door.

"Who are you? I hope you're not one of those Jehovah people. They really irritate mom."

She laughed, and I fell in love instantly. It was warm, bubbly, and heartfelt.

"You must be Barry. You look just like your grandmother. And as far as the irritation level, wait until your mom sees me. I'm your great aunt Elsa. Your grandmother and I were sisters. Do you remember her?"

I did, barely. I was five when she passed away. All I remembered was grey hair, big hugs, and a great smelling kitchen.

Mom came to the door.

"Barry, who are you talking to? It's not those religious people again is it? I've already told them not to bot...."

She stopped, her mouth hanging open.

"Hello Carol" said Elsa, quietly. "Bet you never expected me at the door, did you?"

I looked from one to the other, wondering what was going on. Mom opened her mouth several times before she could make enough words to invite her in.

"What are you doing here?" She finally came out with.

Elsa had regained her good humor by then.

"Well hello to you, my darling niece. Graham had to go to a conference here in town and I thought I'd tag along, maybe see the only family I got left."

She turned to me.

"I feel like ice cream. Want some?"

What ten year old doesn't like ice cream. She took my hand and looked at mom.

"Coming, Carol?" Mom was speechless again when she saw the limo. For a woman that had been all over the world, she never once held a drivers' license.

We went to the ice cream parlor. Banana splits, something mom rarely let me have. She talked to me more than mom, and I loved it. She asked mom for the time. She never owned a watch in her life, either.

"Goodness! Time to collect Graham from that stuffy old meeting. Well, it was good to see you again, Carol. You guys are the only family I have left. I'd like to see more of you, if that's all right."

I was all for that, but Mom said we'd have to see. I don't think she saw the pain in her eyes, but I did. I took her hand, shocking my mom. I was almost phobic about people touching me.

"I'd like to see you again, Aunt Elsa."

She kissed my cheeks, something else I didn't allow.

"I hope I get to, young Barry. Call me, Carol."

She handed her a card and whirled out to the car.

Mom told Dad about the visit at dinner. He had never met her. They had sent her a wedding invitation, but she was out of the country, doing something in Africa for the Peace Corps. He had never met her.

"She's an odd old girl, wild as can be when she was young. Maybe she's changed, and Barry sure likes her."

Dad raised his eyebrows at me.

"She was fun. I thought so, anyway."

I heard them talking later.

"Maybe we should let her suck up to him. They have no kids, and her husband is loaded. Might work out well for us."

That was my Mom. She constantly obsessed about money, but not enough to get a job, even part time.

My Dad was annoyed, I could hear it in his voice.

"Don't worry about the money, Carol. If they like each other, let her spend some time with him. You know how he's been since Junie died. It might bring him out of his shell."

Junie had been my twin sister, hit by a car as she rode her bike to the corner store. I was with her and saw it all. He was flying, and crossed the line. I saw her go flying over his car, landing headfirst on the pavement. She was dead before I got to her. He kept driving, they never caught him. We were nine, proud that Mom would let us ride that far. It was three years before I got on a bike again. I just shut down.

Looking back, I should have been in therapy, but we didn't have the money, and it never occurred to them at the time. Aunt Elsa was the first thing that had sparked my interest since the accident.

When I was twelve and seeing her regularly, I opened up and told her about it. She held me for two hours while I cried myself out. To lose a sibling that young is hard enough, but a twin? It was like half of me died with her.

It started out slowly. I sent her a homemade birthday card. She sent me a gift certificate for two hundred dollars on mine. It paid for most of my school clothes that year.

The she moved to our town and she and her husband bought the huge house, in the best neighborhood. I was soon a fixture. Her husband was a bit older, but seemed to take a liking to me. He took me fishing for the first time, pleased when I caught a nice bass. He had our picture taken, and Aunt Elsa had it framed and put on the coffee table.

When I was sixteen, she talked my parents into letting me go with her to Africa, to help put in a safe water system for two villages. I loved it, and for the first time got a glimpse of how different life could be for others.

We slept on mats on the floor, used an outhouse, boiled our water before we could use it until the system was in place. I loved it. I almost got married, by mistake.

She was the daughter of the chief by his third wife. Already eighteen, she had been married and widowed. He died in a border skirmish. She liked me. I liked her, especially when she showed me her boobs. She asked me out to another village for some kind of ritual. Luckily Aunt Elsa caught wind of it.

"It's a group marriage ceremony. If you went, and she got you into the circle, you would have been legally married in this country. That could lead to all kinds of complications."

She smoothed it over, presenting the girl with a small dowry, to make her a better marriage prospect. Late the next night, I woke to feel ample breasts pressed against my arm.

"Huh?" I said drowsily, trying to process what was happening.

She put her hand over my mouth, the other went to my crotch.

I was sixteen, a mass of raging hormones. Of course I let nature take its' course. Halfway through the second time I heard Aunt Elsa giggle, and she got up and left.

We did it four times, and by the time we were done I had a pretty good grasp of female anatomy, and what girls liked. I was deflowered by a genuine African princess. I tried to talk about it the next afternoon.

"Hush" Aunt Elsa said, giggling. "Legal age in this country is fourteen, so no one was breaking any laws."

"Plus, I heard she gave you a pretty good report. It was her way of thanking us for the dowry. Accept the gesture as it was given."

She sat for a minute before breaking into laughter.

"Watch out for the other girls. I think they were gambling to see who got you next."

I was glad when we left three days later. The girls would catch me alone and be all over me. Aunt Elsa finally talked to them, and they backed off, a little. Didn't stop them from flashing their boobs or their butts when no one was looking. I had a constant erection.

I blushed so much the team leader asked if I was coming down with a fever, which sent my aunt into fits of laughter.

"Jungle fever" she said solemnly. "The only know cure is eleven thousand miles of distance."

The other guys, all older, gave me a ration of shit all the way home. I think they were jealous. Needless to say, when my parents asked if it was interesting, I could definitely say yes.

Her husband died while I was a high school senior, from a stroke. He was the total opposite of Elsa. Conservative, quiet, he possessed a razor sharp mind. She was thirty nine when she met him. She said it was the first time she ever fell in love. She pursued him relentlessly until he gave in. They loved each other deeply for the seventeen years they were together.

He left me a little trust fund, that I used to help pay for college. I was one of his pallbearers, and sat with Aunt Elsa through the service. I lived with her two months while she recovered.

She finally sent me home, saying she had it together. I heard her crying often when she didn't know I was around, but I obeyed her and went home.

It was her time to comfort me when in my sophomore year of college my parents died of carbon monoxide poisoning. A faulty oil heating system. Mom was always after him to have it checked.

I got a nice insurance package and sold the house, knowing I wouldn't ever sleep there again.

Aunt Elsa invested it for me, and I spent most college holidays with her. We were the only family each of us had left.

................................................

I met Deb my senior year. She too was a bit of a wild child, spoiled rotten by her parents. They apparently had 'no' erased from their vocabulary.

We were at a fall mixer, held at her sorority house. I wasn't in a fraternity, but my best friend was, so I often tagged along.

I was dancing to a slow song when I felt her eyes on me. I had let my hair grow long, mostly due to Aunt Elsa. One too many flower power stories, I guess.

When the song was over, I half carried the girl I was with back to a couch, sitting her down carefully. She wanted another drink but I wouldn't give it to her. She was almost passed out by then. I tried to get her up. When she wouldn't go, I grabbed the first girl that wandered by, asking for help. She giggled and staggered on.

The jocks were watching her, waiting for her to pass out. I was stuck. She was a big girl, and dead weight. I felt a tap on my shoulder.

It was Deb.

"Help me pull her up. We'll walk her to her house."

Luckily she lived next door. A couple girls helped us get her to her room. She started snoring as soon as her head hit the pillow.

"I'd hate to be her head in the morning" I thought, as I turned to leave. Deb grabbed my arm.

"Where are you going? You looked like the most interesting guy at the party, but you were with her. She's out of the picture now, care for a glass of wine?"

I declined. I had already passed my limit.

"Okay. No booze. Walk me to the coffee shop."

The coffee shop was a popular hangout, especially to those trying to sober up after a party. They served a good breakfast, too.

We ordered two coffees, this was at the beginning of the specialty coffee craze, and the Starbucks was closed.

She held out her hand.

"Debra Swinson. Call me Deb."

"Barry Silversmith. You can call me Barry."

She looked me over, trying to tell if I was being facetious, before she broke into a grin.

"So, what fraternity do you belong to?"

"None. I was there with a friend. I don't have the time or inclination for that type of lifestyle."

She decided I wasn't making judgements because she was in a sorority. I found later she was constantly like that, trying to find hidden agendas and meanings in the slightest comment. Apparently she wasn't of the 'sometimes a cigar is just a cigar' school of thought.

"If you don't belong to a fraternity, what dorm are you in?"

"None. I have an apartment just off campus. Not too large, but it beats sharing space with loud slobs."

"An apartment? That's great. There have been many times I would have killed for a little privacy."

We talked for an hour, before she went back to her house. I went back to the party, found my friend passed out on the couch under two coeds, decided he would probably like waking up like that, and went home.

She had given me her number, but I threw it away by accident. We had spent less than two hours together, and to be honest, she seemed too high maintenance.

Two weeks later, there was another mixer. Jerry told me about it after class.

"I wouldn't go if I were you. Deb has been asking about you, and she seemed pissed. Bitch has got a hell of a temper, so if you go, keep an eye out."

I went despite the warning. I had a few beers, talked junk with the guys, danced a few times. I had been there an hour when she walked in. Jerry saw her coming and split.

"Good luck man" he said as he left.

She came right up to me. Before I could speak, she put her finger in my face.

"Outside. Now."

She turned and strode off. Everyone was staring, so I decided another beer would be in order. Twenty minutes later she stormed up to me again.

"I thought I told you to be outside!"

I grinned at her.

"You did. How'd that work out for you?"

Her mouth hung open. It never crossed her mind that I wouldn't obey her.

She drew a breath when I started talking.

"Too bad. You're very attractive. I'd have loved to get to know you better, but if I wanted a bitch, I'd get a golden retriever."

I walked out, grinning. The look in her eyes made my night.

It was the talk of the campus, the bitch queen of sorority row, shot down in flames. She caught a lot of grief over it, girls had waited a long time to see that happen.

I was a bit of a hero to the fraternity guys, the brunt of most of her aggression.

I never thought much about it until a few sorority girls started flirting with me. I laughed. I didn't have the time and the inclination for what amounted to revenge fucks, getting the guy who shot her down.

Two weeks later she came into the coffee shop. She started over, but drew up when the girl I was with came back from the bathroom.

I glanced at her from time to time. No denying her beauty. Long blond hair styled for the time, great breasts, nice ass, long legs. She was the package, and she knew it. Too bad her personality was so fucked up.

Another week went by. I saw her in the library. As I was leaving, she came up to me.

"Barry, if you've got a minute, I'd like to talk to you. Please."

What the hell, she had asked nicely.




Brother Love Ch. 02



"Sure, Deb. Want a coffee?"

We walked to the coffee shop in silence. I got our coffees and we found a table.

She sat for a few minutes sipping her coffee.

"You wanted to talk, Deb. What's on your mind?"

"You'll have to excuse me, I'm not used to apologizing. I shouldn't have taken that tone with you, but I was upset. The first guy I'm interested in like forever, and he doesn't even call me."

She paused.

"Why didn't you call?"

I smiled at her discomfort.

"I lost your number by mistake. I could have still gotten hold of you, but to be honest, you were a bit too intense for me. I don't like a lot of drama, not my thing. It was hard, you're probably the prettiest woman I've ever seen."

"I'm not that high main...wait a minute, the prettiest woman you've ever seen? Really?"

"Really" I grinned. "I may be prone to exaggeration form time to time, but I'm not in the habit of lying."

She had a huge smile on her face. We talked for almost an hour, and when we left, we had a date for Saturday night.

I cleaned up my car, a four year old Honda, and presented myself for her inspection. I passed, we were soon in the car.

"I'd like to go to that new sushi place on Madison. I've heard good things."

I never said a word. She looked surprised when I pulled into a little Indian place she never knew existed. She looked at me.

"I don't like sushi. Don't order the hot curry unless you have a strong stomach."

She actually had a good time, and she loved the food, right up until she tasted my curry.

She choked and tears came to her eyes.

"What is that?"

"It's called Dragon Breath. Bit spicy, don't you agree?"

"That stuff would melt concrete. I hope you don't intend to kiss me with that on your breath."

She realized what she said and colored slightly.

"Noted. Brush teeth at earliest opportunity. And I do. Intend to kiss you, that is."

She was actually a deep shade of red by then. She wasn't used to not being in complete control.

I let her pick the movie, since I picked the restaurant. I figured I was doomed to wasting two hours on a chick flick, but she picked a horror movie. I didn't like horror movies, real life scared me enough. She laughed every time I jumped.

She handed me something on the way out of the movie. I looked down. A breath mint. I looked up.

"In case there isn't a toothbrush handy."

..............................................

Despite going hot and heavy, it was the sixth date before we had sex.

I took her to my apartment. She was amazed at how neat it was. I didn't tell her I gave a girl seventy five dollars a week to come by twice a week for three hours to keep it neat. She was a classmate, and the money helped a good bit, especially since it was cash, without a paper trail.

We got to the bedroom. She took one look at my queen size bed, and starting shedding clothes.

"I've wanted to do this ever since I saw you at that first party."

She was wild, biting, scratching, pulling my long hair. I gave as good as I got, pushing her to limits she didn't know she had. When we finally collapsed and got our breath, she asked me who taught me how to make love like that. 

"An African princess" I told her with a straight face.

She laughed. When Aunt Elsa told her the full story, she stopped laughing.

................................................

We held our first staff meeting the next Tuesday, at my house. They were impressed.

"So, are you like mega rich?" asked Amber, as they came in.

"No, I just had a very generous relative. I'll show you around later. Right now, we need to get down to business. Come on, I'll show you where to put your computers."

I took them to the office, a huge room with a large conference room. My computer was hooked up and on the desk, they could use the table.

They set up while Sarah and I went to the kitchen for drinks and snacks.

"Soft drinks while we're working, alcohol when we're done."

Ninety per cent of college students live on a pretty tight budget, and they almost never turn down free food. It was pretty apparent I didn't have enough. I told them we'd have pizza delivered when we were finished.

Josh started us off.

"Seven hundred and twenty emails. Most are still not sure if you're real. There's a mixed bag of opinions about what they want discussed. Sex was real popular, so was relationships. After that, politics, gun control, money, and religion. There were a few votes for other things, and a few ideas I thought you might like. Amber has them printed out, in order."

He pushed some sheets at me. I looked them over.

"How much time have you two spent on this? Be honest."

They looked guilty.

"We don't really know. When we start, we tend to get carried away."

I eyed all three until they got nervous.

"I think I need to lay some ground rules here. I'm paying you for eight hours. That should be enough for right now. You have school work and a life. Don't let a part time job interfere with it. Understood?"

I made each of them say they understood. Then I asked for their thoughts.

Sex was the subject they wanted to discuss.

"All right. Might as well start with a bang. But I don't want sensationalism. What is sex? What does it mean, or signify to you personally? Is it a deal breaker in a relationship if you don't have the same desires? That sort of thing."

We talked far past the time designated. The pizzas arrived, and we ate, washing them down with beer. I let them drink too much, then took the keys away.

"We can't impose on you like that. We'll be fine, I promise."

Amber was swaying while she said it, leaning on Josh.

"I've got plenty of room, plus the cottage out back. Come on, let's get you settled."

We got them situated, then I escorted Sarah to hers. She gave me a nice kiss at the door.

"Thanks. And thanks for letting me tag along for the ride."

I got them up the next morning in time for class.

...............................................

I was a little surprised when Sarah showed up two days later at my door, with another girl.

"We need to talk."

Why do those four little words strike fear into the hearts of men?

I let them in, and she headed straight for the office.

"Barry, this is Julie. You need to hire her."

"For what?"

"To handle the business end of your adventure."

I was curious.

"What business?"

"Your talk show. You need a production company, someone to handle payroll and taxes, document expenditures, that sort of thing."

Now I was confused.

"Why would I need all that when I'm paying for everything myself, and not making any profit."

"Then you should incorporate as a non profit. Either way, there is an electronic trail now. You talked about the people you've hired."

She went into great detail about the pitfalls I could run into if we didn't dot every i and cross every t. In the end, I hired her.

Early the next week, we had contacted a lawyer to lay out the corporation. He said we needed a name.

I discussed it with my team. Everybody had a suggestion, and were convinced theirs was the best. We argued for about two hours.

I called a halt.

"We need to agree on something for this little halfassed project or I'll pick something myself.

Amber had laid her head on the table and missed most of what I said. She raised her head up.

"Who the hell is Hal Fast, and what does he have to do with anything?"

And viola, Hal Fast Productions was named.

They hadn't had too much to drink, but wanted to stay the night again. I didn't mind, I liked having others in the house.

"All right, you two take the room you had last time. Sarah, you do the same, and we'll put Julie right next to you."

Sarah spoke up.

"No need, she'll be sleeping with me."

They were holding hands. I had no clue. It didn't matter. Sarah still kissed me goodnight while Julie giggled.

The next morning over breakfast, Sarah asked if I had picked our first guests. I slid a sheet over to her.

"A nun? And a virgin? This couple, they're in their seventies. The two guys, a confirmed sex addict and a college guy? You sure this is going to work?"

"Not a clue, but it should really be fun."

She sighed.

"I'll get them lined up for an interview, see if any of them have a problem."

"No, we all go in cold. It will increase our chances of getting honest opinions."

Her eyes were big.

"You're flirting with disaster, you realize that?"

"Yes I do, won't it be great?"

..................................................

We did a teaser, running it for four days.

"Well folks, the results are in. Our very first full length show will be on sex. Our guests have confirmed, and are ready to go. If you have any specific questions you'd like asked. Email us."

"See you next Thursday."

.................................................

Thanks as always for reading. I always read your comments, and one commentator planted a seed. LancerinLA, I think you're on to something. The next chapter will fill out the back story and have physical descriptions of the main characters. After that, I'm declaring this story fair game. Any writer that wants to write about a subject using this line as their vehicle, please do. I only ask that you research your subject enough to interject realistic scenes.

I plan on continuing my own version, on as many subjects as I think reasonable.

Remember, votes are nice, comments are better.



Brother Love Ch. 03



Deb never really got my sense of humor. When she found out my real name was Love, she got bitchy.

"Why did you say your name was Silversmith?"

"Because I always liked the name. Sometimes I'm Goldberg. Sometimes I'm Jones. It's just a game."

"You're a little off, you know that, right?"

I had to agree with her. Elsa taught me that, playing games.

"Sometimes you have to be someone else to be yourself."

It took me years to understand what that really meant.

..................................................

Julie came to me six days before our show debuted,

expressing some of her concerns.

"You can't just go out and talk for an hour without breaks, it won't work."

"Why not? Isn't that what I set out to do, talk?"

She sighed.

"Yes and no. You're getting a lot of buzz on campus, thanks to a viral campaign Josh and Amy started. We're the gamer, Facebook, Youtube, Iphone generation. We can absorb large amounts of information, in short doses. After about fifteen minutes our mind starts to wander. True for older people, but it usually takes five or ten minutes longer. You have to take a break every once in a while, to give people time to digest what you've been saying."

I thought about it.

"Excellent point. I'm sure you have a suggestion, say what's on your mind."

"Well, on commercial talk shows, you have commercials. We don't have that. so what about a musical guest? They could come on, play a song or two every twenty minutes. It might even boost viewership?"

I frowned, it sounded more commercial than I liked.

"What would this cost?"

She smiled.

"Nothing, most will do it for exposure. You don't even have to plug them on the show, just mention a link on your website where they can go and see them perform."

"Do you have someone in mind?"

"Already got them lined up. A duo, folk and blues, some originals. I thought it would be best to start with, light, nonthreatening, upbeat. Would you like to see them play? Sarah and I will take you, let them meet you and see if it's something they might be interested in. They're at The Grind, that coffeehouse over on Flint Street tomorrow."

.................................................

The whole crew went, including Carlos, Ed, and their wives.

Two girls, playing under the name Dirty Blond. Mostly pop stuff. Nancy Griffin, Natalie Merchant, Melissa Ethridge, they even did an Adele song. They were technically good but not remarkable. I think they they could tell I wasn't impressed and asked if I had any requests.

"Not really. I'm into older stuff, thanks to a great aunt who had a tremendous record collection.

Play something from last century."

I heard them whispering as they returned to the stage.

"We're going to play something now we haven't done in a while. It's sort of a request. Brother Love, this is for you.

I knew it instantly. Uncle's John Band, the great song from the Grateful Dead, done in the Indigo Girls version. Unbidden, tears came to my eyes.

..................................................

It was one of Elsa's all time favorites. She sang it constantly in her soft soprano. She taught me the words when I was twelve, so we could sing it together, while she played guitar. If my greatuncle was home, he would chime in on the chorus from wherever he was in the house.

It made me an official, card carrying Deadhead. I had all their work on cd and later on my mp3. My friends just used it to reaffirm their opinion that I was a little strange.

As much as I loved the song, when I heard the Indigo Girls do it, it blew me away. They were really big into Lilith Fair then, lesbian power to the max. I did not care. It was still good music.

I played their version for her, and she really liked it.

"It's good to hear their music again, being carried forward to a new generation."

She was actually friends with the band, from her days in San Francisco. She would talk about it sometimes, if a song sparked a memory. She had pictures, lots of pictures from all phases of her life. There was one of her and Jerry Garcia, hugging and laughing, obviously at a concert somewhere.

"They were good guys, most of the time. Phil had a bit of a temper, and when they got into drugs they could be irritating at times, but when they played, it was magic. They would put aside the pettiness and anger, and let the music flow. They once did a sixteen minute version of Uncle John's Band at the Winter Palace that left a lot of the crowd in tears." 

I made sure it got played at her funeral. Both versions. I also had them play "Miss Me When I'm Gone" at the very end.

..............................................

Finally, the night of the show had arrived. We had a little meeting with the guests, just to lay ground rules.

"Say what you feel. We'll be on a eight second delay, just to make sure no profanity slips out. We'll probably leave in the 'damns', but anything else is a no no. We'll introduce you, give a little background, but we won't be using any last names. This is for your protection. Everyone understand? Good."

"I can't thank you enough for doing this. If you're uncomfortable at any time, stop. I'll go to someone else."

"One more thing, we have musical guests, and we're in a closed studio. Even with the crew, that's only ten people. So please, applaud after they play. Like you, no one is getting paid, and I'm sure they'll appreciate it."

"We have water and soft drinks available, if you'd like something, help yourself. Ready?"

I shook every hand, and went to my desk.

Taking several deep breaths, I nodded at Sarah. I was as ready as I'd ever be.

She started talking in my earbud.

"Show time. Camera one, in four, three, two, GO!"

I looked at the camera and smiled.

"Good evening. I hope everyone has had a good week. This is our very first full length show, and we appreciate you investing your time with us. I hope we entertain you. I hope you learn something."

"I apologize ahead of time, I'll probably screw up sometime during the show. I have good people working with me to keep me on the straight and narrow. In fact, before we get into the topic for tonight, I'd like to introduce them."

This caught them all by surprise. I hoped they could get used to it.

"Carlos, show them Sarah. She's my producer/director. She's the one who'll maintain continuity, make sure I don't stumble too badly, or generally make an ass of myself."

Carlos panned to Sarah, in jeans and a tee, wearing a headset and holding a clipboard. She had the deer in headlights look before she gave a little wave.

"Manning the computers, my researchers and technical staff, Josh and Amber."

They were prepared, so they smiled and waved.

"Carlos, show them Ed, then I want Ed to show you. These are the guys that run the cameras."

They showed each other, smiling and waving.

"One more. I know she's here somewhere. Julie, come on out. This is our business manager. I didn't even know I was in business until she came on board. Have to render unto Caesar and so forth."

She actually had on a nice dress, but wasn't really smiling. You'll get used to it, I thought.

"So there they are, the group that is aiding me in my journey. I want to say right now, anything said or done on this show, is my responsibility alone. So if you have issues, direct them at me and leave the rest alone."

"Before I forget, we have some musical guests, Dirty Blond. They're really good, I think you will enjoy them. We have a link to our website if you're interested, that will show their upcoming performances as well as booking information."

"And while this show about sex, it isn't about the actual act. I think everyone has a basic grasp of what that is. It's about the emotions involved, the personal views of our guests. I can't remember who said it, but the biggest sexual organ a person had is the mind."

"Now, off we go."

................................................ 

The nun, Sister Angela, wanted to know if we could start with a prayer. I stunned everyone by saying I thought it was a good idea.

So the first three minutes of the show saw me, the guests, my crew, and the girls from Dirty Blond, as well as a guy they brought along, standing in a circle holding hands while she prayed.

She asked for guidance, she asked for understanding, and she ended it by asking God to bless me and what I was attempting to do.

We all took our seats and I thanked her.

"Let me introduce everyone, give you a brief background."

"This is Sister Angela, of Holy Trinity over on Fourth. When the call went out for guests, I was frankly surprised when she answered. We sent each other a few emails, followed by a call, and here she is."

Sister Angela smiled and waved. She was tall, wearing a navy skirt and a white blouse, with the standard head covering of a nun. She wore a small gold cross. I asked, she was forty two.

"Beside her we have Mary and Harvey, married forty eight years next week. I hope you join me in wishing them an early Happy Anniversary.

He was midheight, with a little belly and a bald head. She was about the same size, with jet black hair and a leaner body. She looked pretty good to be seventy one.

"Next we have Joe. He's single, by his own admission an unrepentant sex addict."

He smiled and waved. Thirty four years old, he wore a nice suit, was physically fit, could be considered handsome.

"Just past Joe is Mike, a student at the local university."

Twenty three, with a brush cut and weight lifters' body. He had an open, happy face. He looked like your neighbors' kid.

"Finally we have Shannon, just recently graduated from high school."

The only black person in the room, she had the optimism of youth on her side. Petite at just five feet, she was curved very nicely. Joe almost drooled on her when we met before the start of the show. She was a virgin.

Light skinned, the blush was obvious when I introduced her.

"Well, there you have them. A happily married couple of many years, a sex addict, a virgin, a nun, and an average guy. Who better qualified?"

"Let's start with a definition of sex. According to Wikipedia, and the American Standard Dictionary, the word sex is generic and has many definitions, but for the purposes of this show we all know we're talking about the actual act, intercourse if you will."

"The Wikipedia definition is pretty straight forward. Sexual intercourse, also known as coitus or copulation, it the act of inserting a penis into a vagina for reproduction or simple gratification."

"A bit oversimplified but direct. And before we go any farther, this is about standard heterosexual sex. Gays, lesbians, polygamists, S&M practitioners, etc., you'll all have a chance to speak your mind, but it will be another show. But sex is sex, no matter how you practice it, so I hope we all can walk away with something of value from this show."

"Since Joe is an admitted sex addict, let's start with him. Since it's about sex, when was your first sexual encounter?" 

The camera zoomed in on his face when he started talking.

"I don't want to say exactly, but it was way before the legal age. I think it had a lot to do with how I turned out. I was a kid, and she wasn't."

"But she was very good, from years of practice, no doubt. She taught me just about everything I know. If she didn't, she shared me with a few of her friends to round out my education."

Harvey was frowning.

"That sounds a lot like statutory rape to me."

Joe paused thinking.

"It probably was, but realistically, it was anything but rape. I was more than willing. I'm surprised we didn't get caught. It kind of ruined me in high school. Here I was surrounded by all these silly girls, and I had experienced mature women. I hardly dated in high school, the thrill just wasn't there."

I stopped him to ask a question.

"If that's true, and your sex drive is as high as you say, what did you do for relief?"

He laughed.

My 'friend' and her cohorts kept me steadily supplied. I was basically a teen gigolo. I would tell my parents I was doing chores to earn money, and off I would go. They gave me gifts, clothes, one even bought me a car. Of course it had to stay at her house, my parents could never know. And they were always slipping me money, sometimes as much as five hundred."

Sister Angela looked askance, and I nodded.

"If all this was true, how did you do in relationships in your adult years?"

For the first time his smile slipped.

"Not well. I married once. I loved her deeply, I just couldn't keep it in my pants. She was right to divorce me. It's because of her I learned I was a sex addict. It came out in counseling. We've been divorced for seven years. I doubt I'll ever love again like I loved her."

"Have you had any serious relationships since your marriage?" I asked, genuinely curious.

Again the look of sadness crossed his face.

"Twice, for about four months each time. That seems to be my fidelity limit. I told them about me beforehand, but they were both convinced their love would be enough to change me. I wish it had been."

Shannon interjected.

"Excuse me for asking, but isn't that lifestyle kind of dangerous?"

He looked over, and frowned.

"Yes it is young lady. I don't recommend my lifestyle to anyone. I've had four different STDs, two of them at the same time. I'm basically gambling with my life, and the odds aren't in my favor."

Mary, quiet until now, burst out suddenly.

"Then why on earth do you risk it? Do you want to die?"

"No, I don't. If you've never had an addiction, it's hard to describe. It's similar to gambling, or drug use. You know it's wrong, you know it's bad for you, but it gives you such a rush you keep doing it."

His face became enraptured.

"I've bedded women of every race and size. Some were beauties, some not so much, but I loved them all. The tastes, the textures, the variety of skills and enthusiasm, fuel my hunger."

"And I always try to leave them satisfied. Not bragging, but I've learned things. I'm a very accomplished lover. Believe it or not, part of the gratification is giving them the best experience I can."

He seemed to draw into himself, talked out for the time being.

Sister Angela went next.

"I haven't always been a nun. I was married once, to a kind and handsome man. Had a daughter, a beautiful child."

"If you were to look at me then, you'd think I had it all. The perfect family. A husband so successful I never had to work."

"And it was perfect, for almost twelve years. I got restless, bored with the life everyone thought was so perfect."

"As he got more successful, we had to move twice. He worked a lot of hours making sure we had everything we wanted. His promotions just kept coming."

"I fell in with a group of women similar to me. When I expressed my boredom they laughed, telling me about their lovers, their spa visits that were nothing short of drug fueled orgies. I let myself get sucked right in. I partied, I did drugs. And eventually, I was unfaithful. Once I crossed that threshold I couldn't stop."

"I need to tell you now, I loved my husband deeply. But I was alone so much. I started neglecting things, missing appointments, ignoring my child. When it got really bad I would forget to pick her up from her private school. It finally got bad enough that my husband did an intervention."

"He sent me to detox, three times. It never worked because I didn't want it to work. Finally, he had me followed and documented. The divorce was quick, but very public because he named names. There were six divorces in our little group."

"I got a good settlement and three years of alimony, but I wasn't allowed to see my daughter unless I could furnish a clean drug test."

"I moved in with another divorced woman from our group. We partied hard until the money ran out."

"When you've got a habit and no money, it doesn't take long before a woman becomes desperate and starts doing favors. I got deeper and deeper in, until my dealer sold me to a pimp."

"It was not a pleasant experience. He was too cheap to spend money keeping us drugged up. He would give us a taste every once in a while, then beat us to keep us in line."

The screen changed to a photo of a woman's back. You could plainly see the evidence of beatings, heavy scars and discolored areas.

"That's me, taken four days ago. I've been away from him for four years, and you can still see the damage."

There was a collective gasp from the group.

"How did you get away?" asked Shannon in a trembling voice.

"I didn't, child. One of my johns gave me some pills and a bottle of cheap vodka. I took the pills and guzzled down the bottle. When I didn't bring him his money, my pimp came looking for me. Thinking I was dead, he threw me into a dumpster behind a restaurant. I was barely alive four hours later when the guys on the sanitation truck found me."

"They thought I was dead at first. So did the cops. It was the medical examiner who figured out I was still alive."

"I survived. I was in rehab, physical and mental, for almost a year."

"Not to belabor a point, but I found God in that dumpster. After I was released, I entered a convent. I took my final vows two years ago."

"I didn't mean to get off point here, I just wanted to set the scene. As a former practitioner of the second oldest profession in the world, I feel qualified to speak on the subject. I've probably had sex with hundreds of men. This far removed, they're all just a blur now, but a few stand out for size or cruelty."

"Despite all that, I remember what it was like with my husband when we were young. Physically I don't miss sex, but emotionally, when I think about him, I sometimes cry over the memories."

"And that's what I wanted to add to this discussion. Sex should be a physical expression of love, a bonding that only two should share. When it happens, it's almost magical. Although my religion doesn't condone it, I still understand physical needs, so I'm not too hard on kids I counsel from time to time. I just stress that without love and commitment, it's just exercise."

She sat back, talked out. Shannon spoke up in a small voice.

"Thank you for sharing that. I've got a couple of questions, if you're up to answering them. Do you have contact with your child? Did your husband ever forgive you? And how in the world did you avoid diseases?"

Sister Angela looked up, tears plainly in her eyes.

"I didn't avoid them, young lady. I caught almost all of them, including Hepatitis C. My immune system was considerable damaged by my lifestyle.

My doctor won't give me an estimate, but I figure I'm only good for five or six more years. Then I'll get to go home."

"I don't know if it's because I'm sick, or the amount of time that's gone by, or the Grace of God, but my exhusband forgave me. I got to see my daughter graduate from college last year. He's been remarried for years. She calls her Mom, as she should. But she calls me every month, and visits as often as she can. I count my blessings."

It was a good time to take a break, so I introduced the band, and passed out tissues, making a mental note to make sure I kept a couple boxes on the table and desk.

They played Uncle John's Band, but it seemed sadder to me somehow. I led the applause when they were done.

"Who's next?" I asked. No one stepped up so I asked the older married couple about their life.

"Forty eight years. Quite a record. Not a lot of couples this day and time reach that milestone. What kept you going strong?"

Mary reached out and took Harvey by the hand.

"Stubborness, I guess. I can't bear the thought of him leaving me first, so we're trying to outlive each other. We were young, in our teens when we married. We were both virgins and had no idea what to do."




Brother Love Ch. 03



I smiled and asked gently "How long did it take to figure it out?"

Harvey grinned.

"We're still working on it. We didn't have computers back then, and there wasn't a lot of information out there. I can still remember what a big deal it was when the book 'The Joy Of Sex' came out, and the Kinsey report. Caused quite a stir."

Mary chimed in.

"Things were a lot more conservative back then. Oral sex, for instance, was never accepted the way it is now. And anal? You were a pervert for even thinking about it."

"Then the sixties came. Burn the bra. Birth control. Sex became a lot easier when you didn't have to worry about pregnancy."

"Please excuse me asking, but did you ever think about straying?" I felt bad asking, even if it was a legitimate question.

They held hands, and answered jointly.

"I'm proud to say we never strayed. Did we think about it? Were we tempted? Damn right we were, but we never did. It was just wrong, there was too much to lose."

"Do you think that's the attitude now?" asked Shannon. Mary snorted.

"Lord no. It's just too easy now. Over fifty per cent of marriages fail nationwide. It's just too easy to get out of it. No fault divorces? Bull----"

I was suddenly glad of the delay. How many people want to hear grandma say bullshit? Harvey jumped back in.

"My wife is right. It's always someone's fault, even if adultery isn't involved. Marriage is a lifetime commitment, and it comes with rules. If you don't want to follow them, why get married? It makes no sense."

Mary picked back up when he ran out of breath.

"Sex is a big part of marriage, at least for us. We had three kids, and we practiced a lot to get them. For us, sex is an expression of our love. And despite our age, with a little medical help, we still express it to each other."

Instead of being embarrassed, Harvey grinned broadly.

Mike joined our discussion for the first time.

"But doesn't it get stale after a while?"

Mary smiled.

"Son, do you like fried chicken?"

He nodded yes.

"Even if you loved it, if you had to eat it every day for the rest of your life it would get old fast, wouldn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well, just because fried chicken gets old, it doesn't mean you switch to steak. You just cook the chicken a different way. You grill it, make soup, fix it with pasta, make salad. You add spices, new flavors. It's still chicken, but now you have variety. Do you understand what I'm trying to say? Sex only gets old if you let it. Be adventurous, try new things. They might not all suit you, but there will be enough to keep boredom away."

Mike nodded, deep in thought.

It was his turn to speak.

"I see what you're saying. It's work. Not the sex, but keeping it exciting. I'm a normal guy. College, dorms, parties, hanging out. I hook up once in a while, just for physical relief. I don't lead my partners on, or promise anything I can't deliver. I've found they respect me more for it. Sooner or later there will come a time when I want more. When it does, I'll look back on this discussion and try a little harder."

"And you're right, it is a different time. Women have a lot more leeway, and nobody much comments on their sex life, unless it's out of control. Most of us still respect them, after all, they're doing the same thing we are. For every move I've made on a woman, I've had one made on me. Maybe a little more."

I stopped the conversation, having the band do another song. They did the David Thompson version of Oops I Did It Again, the Britney Spears song. They had brought a percussionist along. He played congas, and a set of bongos he had mounted, a high hat cymbal with a tambourine on top, and a little six inch cymbal beside the congas. He made a lot of noise with such a small amount of equipment.

I had thought about commercial talk shows, how they would have a musical guest who would play and disappear. I shocked them when it was over by inviting them over to the couch. They had to bring their chairs. It caught them by surprise.

I introduced them individually.

"If you want to add something, feel free to speak up."

Sarah was looking at me like she wanted to kill me, and I grinned at her.

Shannon was the only one left who hadn't spoken, so I gave her the opportunity.

"Shannon, want to share why you wanted to be out here tonight?"

She looked very nervous but spoke up.

"I'm a virgin. An eighteen year old virgin, in an inner city neighborhood where the teen pregnancy rate is the highest in the state. I have a scholarship to the community college, and hoping I can get another to finish out my degree."

"I've wanted to have sex, even seen it happen in front of me at parties, but I just couldn't make the plunge."

"I've got a boyfriend now who is a little older. To his credit, he hasn't pushed it very hard, but I know he could walk down the street and find three women willing to fu...er, screw him in the first five minutes."

"Any advice?"

Sister Angela went first. 

"As a nun, I need to tell you to refrain from intercourse until you're married. As a woman with a daughter, I want you to do what's right for you. If you're uncomfortable with the thought, don't do it."

Mary added her thoughts.

"She's right, honey. In my generation, your virginity was the greatest gift you could give a man. If you're the least bit uncertain, don't do it."

Both the girls in the band chimed in. Anne, the blond, went first.

"Your first time should be special, with someone you love. Ask yourself, are you doing it for love, or security? Do you want to keep him that badly? Are you sure he'll stay if you do? Think with your mind as well as your heart."

Heather, the brunette, agreed.

"Has he hinted he'll leave if you don't put out? If he has, you need to seriously think about dumping this guy. You have to live with yourself no matter what you do. Just think about it."

The drummer just shrugged. I stepped in.

"Ultimately Shannon, the choice is yours. If it's what you truly want, if you trust him enough, then you've already made your decision. But I'm getting the vibe you're really on the fence. Be sure, Shannon. That's all the advice I have."

Mary grinned and asked me if I was in love my first time.

"In love? I wasn't even on this continent. I'm pretty sure she wasn't a virgin, and I'm pretty sure she planned the whole thing. She was the aggressor, I had no idea what I was doing. She gave me a pretty good first lesson, though."

I heard Sarah telling me we had five minutes, time to wrap it up. I looked into the camera.

"That's about it for tonight, folks. I don't know what you were expecting, but this is what you got. I want to thank everyone. Harvey, Mary, Sister Angela, Mike, Shannon, and Joe, I appreciate you're insights."

"Remember, these are actual people, who volunteered their time. No one got paid. I know some of you out there will recognize them, be kind when you speak to them. It took guts for them to come out here and share such an intimate part of their lives."

Before we go, I want each of you to give me an honest answer. How important is sex in a relationship? Can it be sustained without it?

Mary:

"It's very important. Of course, frequency tapers off as you get older, but It's still the most intimate way to tell your partner you love them."

Harvey:

"I agree. We've had friends, people we were really fond of, part over sex. In my opinion, menopause has broken up as many marriages as infidelity. More don't break up but limp along as a shadow of what they had. Ladies, don't get me wrong, I understand. But look at it this way. Men don't go though the deep biological changes that women do, and frankly, many don't understand. All they see is that something you both enjoyed, something they considered very pleasurable and the most intimate expression of love they could share, denied them, because it just don't matter anymore to their partners."

"I know this sounds sexist and uncaring, but if people out there going through it can tell you, it's still true."

"Also, don't take this to mean you should do your 'wifely duties' without complaint, but be sympathetic to your partner. There are medications, and therapy. Don't let it ruin your life if you can prevent it."

I couldn't help but ask.

"Are you speaking from experience?"

"Yes, it was particularly rough on Mary. Even today she still has an occasional hot flash. But she loved me enough to recognize my wants and needs. We did indeed go to therapy for awhile, to make me really understand what she was going though, and she did take some hormone replacement drugs. It helped tremendously."

Mary nodded her agreement, holding his hand tightly.

Joe:

"Because of my addition, I consider it very important. Could I ever be in a celibate relationship? Not unless it was medically necessary. Even then I would seek out drugs to help me."

Sister Angela:

"Of course, I have a relationship now much more important to me than sex, but I remember, and sexual compatibility goes a long way in maintaining a relationship, especially when you're under, say, fifty. The urge to mate and procreate is built into us, It's hard to curb those biological urges. You just have to learn to temper them, to help make a relationship last."

Shannon:

"I agree. If you're not sexually compatible, at our age it will be almost impossible to stay together. I'm at the age when I'm the most sexually attractive to men, and it's going to be, heck it already is, hard to fend them off. I like the idea of a Mr. Right out there somewhere. Maybe it's the romantic in me. I know for certain all the information you guys have given me will be food for though for a long time to come.

Mike:

"Yeah, like she said. At our age, it's very important. Will it lessen as I get older? Yes, physically at least. But mentally? I read somewhere that an interviewer once told Marilyn Monroe attracted the adulation of thirteen year old boys. She agreed, but then added that all men were thirteen year old boys where she was concerned. So while we age physically, it's hard to age our mindset."

I paused for a second, letting the information soak in. Then I thanked them all for their insights. Sarah was twirling her finger frantically, time to go.

"Well, we started with a prayer, so let's end with a song. Heather, Anne, thank you. And thank you Gary, for helping them out with percussion. Dirty Blond. Remember the name. And check our website for their link. New fans are always welcome." 

"If I have any words of wisdom tonight, it would be to follow your heart. It's usually just your head telling you what's right in a softer way."

"Goodnight, all."

I grinned when I heard the song. Brand New Roller Skates, an old, old song by a singer named Melanie. It was a song about her first sexual encounter.

.................................................

That night, I dreamed about Deb, for the first time in a long time. We were at the beach, on one of our vacations. We were lying on a blanket in the sand. She was naked, that perfect body a glistening bronze sculpture against a backdrop of sugar white sand, and we were making slow, languid love. I could feel the weight of her breasts in my hands, smell her tanning oil and arousal, as we coupled. Before we were done, she started dissolving, even as I tried to hold on to her.

I woke in a panic, gasping for breath. It took me fifteen minutes to calm down. I knew I wouldn't sleep anymore for awhile, so I got a glass of ice water, and sat on the back patio, looking at the stars, and thinking about sex with Deb.

..................................................

We viewed the tape later that week. I was surprised how good it was. Oh, it was a bit rough in spots, and I needed to learn how to regulate the pace, but overall it wasn't too bad.

Josh and Amber had put up a poll on our website. Should Shannon have sex with her boyfriend? No was outrunning yes by a four to one margin. It was higher for women, lower for men. I intended to talk about the numbers on the next show.

I had to add a new member to the crew. Sarah insisted. She said we could get away without a sound man if we were just talking, but musicians were a whole different ball game. I left it to her, and she hired a sound technician. Another woman from college, in her field of study. We welcomed Joyce to the crew during the next broadcast.

Josh and Amber started an archive that people could access to watch shows past shows, and somehow it ended up on youtube. It was becoming a cult favorite at the college.

Suggestions for shows were coming in at a surprising rate. Some were pretty far out, some well reasoned and thoughtful.

A vast number wanted the next show to be about relationships, since we had already covered sex.

We did a blurt.

"All right, the people have spoken. I won't always follow the suggestions, but I wanted to do a show on this anyway, so the next one will be about relationships. Love. Marriage. Any variation on the theme we can think of. I want to hear from people willing to talk about alternative, non mainstream lifestyles. Same sex couples, polygamists, that sort of thing. Be sure if you volunteer you're absolutely sure, because you will be on television, and once it hits the airwaves you can't ever take it back."

"Because of the time it takes to to get a show together with the limited amount of resources I have, it will be two weeks before the show airs."

"If you want to be on, hit the website, give your reasons. If we think you'll fit we will contact you for a followup. Until then."

I talked to Sarah and Julie.

"I need your help. Are both of you out of the closet?"

Sarah was, but Julie wasn't. Well she was at school, but her parents and people back home had no clue. She had even had a boyfriend for awhile, until she made her decision. Sarah wasn't her first girlfriend, but she was her first love.

"I don't think I can do it" Julie said. "Television is not how my friends and family need

to find out about my sexual preference."

I understood. I remember the day I found out Aunt Elsa was bisexual.

.................................................

She was going into the last days of her life. Lung cancer. She had smoked since she was twelve. Her husband made her quit as a condition of marriage, so she hadn't smoked in over twenty five years. I don't know, and the doctor couldn't say if that's what caused it. He did say quitting had helped, but her lungs were still showing the effects.

I had her at her home. She said it was where she wanted to die, and I honored her wish.

The knock on the door didn't surprise me. She had a broad circle of friends, and a lot of them called. Most saying goodbye I suspected.

The woman couldn't have been over five feet tall. She wasn't obese, but she was pretty plump. Her silver hair was loose, and flowed down her back almost to her ass.

"Does Elsa Love live here?" she said in an abrupt voice.

"Yes."

I didn't move. Something about her irritated me.

She seemed surprised I didn't move aside. She softened her tone.

"May I please see her? I'm an old friend, and I've traveled a long way to be here. Please."

Suddenly tears were streaming down her face, and she looked like she was about to collapse.

I ushered her in, got her a glass of wine to settle her, and went up to see if Elsa was up to visitors.

She was sitting up, reading a magazine.

"Aunt Elsa, there's a lady her to see you. Says she's an old friend."

She frowned. Visits tend to tire her out.

"What's her name?"

"I don't know. She just said Sunflower was here to see Petunia."

I found out later that was their pet name for each other.

She looked like she was about to faint.

"Sun...Sunflower? It can't be. Bring her up, please honey. I have to know."

I'll never forget the emotion in the room when she came in. They just stared at each other for about thirty seconds, until Elsa held her hands out, almost in supplication.

Soon they were on the bed together, clinging to each other and crying like babies. I gently shut the door, giving them the privacy they needed.

She moved into our house and her bed. She was holding Elsa when she passed, three months later.

...............................................

Julie, Sarah, and Amber were trying to get me to polish my appearance. They especially wanted me to cut my hair. I had been letting it grow since before Elsa died, at her request. It was down just pass my shoulders.

"You've always had such beautiful hair. I never told you, but when you cut after college to fit in and get a job. It was just like you to donate your hair to Locks Of Love. You don't have to fit in right now, let it grow. Please. The last request of a foolish old woman."

After she passed I just couldn't make myself cut it.

"You're a fairly good looking guy. It would boost your viewership."

Julie shoved all kinds of demographics at me.

I didn't think I was handsome. I was six feet tall, weighed about one eighty five. I worked out at least three days a week, so I was pretty toned.

Blue eyes, straight nose. I had a drooping mustache. I probably did look like something out of the sixties.

"Julie, have you not been paying attention? Don't lose focus, I'm doing this for me, financing it myself, so what I look like won't affect that."

I softened my tone a little.

"This won't make sense to you, but this is a type of mourning for me."

She didn't understand, and she made one more attempt.

"So, when you stop mourning, you'll cut your hair?"

I sighed.

"Yes, Julie. When I stop mourning, I'll cut my hair."

In my mind, I added.

"Don't hold your breath,"

..............................................

Hope you like it so far. Next week, love, marriage, and relationships. Thanks for reading. As always, votes appreciated, comments expected.

If you have a topic, or want to write your own segment, feel free. Pick something you believe in, and roll with it. Until next time. 



Brother Love Ch. 04



"You need a lawyer."

We were at my kitchen table. Josh, Amber, Sara, Julie, and our newest member, Joyce. Julie, always thinking business, was the one that spoke.

"Why?"

"Because sooner or later you're going to broach a subject that will piss someone off enough to sue you. It happens all the time. Mostly they care about money, sometimes they just want to shut you down."

We debated it, but in the end, they all thought it was a good idea, so I went with the group.

I called the only lawyer I knew, Warren Withers. He was Aunt Elsa's lawyer, and her husband's while he was still alive. they went back over twenty five years. He was the one who handled her will, guiding me through everything with ease.

He was surprised to hear from me. Even more surprised when he found out what I was doing. He gave me a time, and I took Julie with me.

"I'm not even going to ask why. You can tell you're related to Elsa. She's probably laughing her ass off wherever she is. This isn't my field, you need an entertainment lawyer. I'll research, find someone for you. In the meantime, write me a check for twenty five dollars. It will establish me on retainer, and make me your lawyer of record. I got a feeling you may need me, down the line."

He grinned, thinking of the future. He loved publicity and controversy. He started out as a civil rights lawyer during the sixties. Got beaten up a few times, jailed more often. But he won, a lot, and soon found himself courted by big firms.

He went out and recruited lawyers as idealistic and passionate as he was, and built an empire. One of the requirements for partnership was to commit twenty percent of their hours pro bono. They did a lot of work with Amnesty International, and the ALCU, as well as local projects referred to them. If they took your case, your probability of being proven innocent went up eighty one percent. If you were innocent. If not, they urged plea bargaining.

He handled a few old friends out of loyalty. Great uncle George was a banker, a financial whiz, and a college roommate, who had bailed him out more times than they cared to remember. He and Elsa were kindred spirits and got along famously.

Julie was in awe. After a few minutes in the car she blurted out what was on her mind.

"Do you know who that is?"

"Yes, he's a friend of the family."

"You idiot, that's the most feared defense lawyer in this town, or state, when you get down to it. The call him the Silver Lion."

She paused, eying me.

"What?"

"You look a lot like him, anybody ever tell you that?"

I grinned.

"Never. Must be the hair."

Warren still wore his hair down to his shoulders, and was very vain about it. He kept it shining, so silver it was almost translucent in it's brightness. It was rumored that if he was losing he would take down his traditional ponytail and comb it out with his fingers while his opponents pressed their case. It was very distracting. The fact that for his age he was very fit and ruggedly handsome may have contributed to him trying to load the jury with middle aged women.

The lawyer he got was younger than me at twenty seven. But he had a good reputation and came highly recommended. I was astounded at the amount of paperwork he laid out. 

"Have your guests sign this. It protects you from lawsuits. Read this disclaimer before every show.

Does the same thing. Incorporate, it'll lessen liability. I'll set it up."

I was now Hal Fast Productions, Inc., and starting to rethink the whole thing.

Josh had podcasts set up, plus got us on youtube. Sarah was friends with the manager of the local college radio station, and they were talking about broadcasting our show the next day, and doing simocasts. I didn't know how it would translate on radio, but it was free, and more people got to hear what was said.

Josh and Amber were putting in a lot of hours that I wasn't paying for. I felt guilty, so I made them a deal. They could live in the caretaker cottage rent free in exchange for the extra hours they put in. This immediately pissed Sarah and Julie off to no end. We reached a compromise when they moved into the second bedroom. It was good and bad.

If I had a question, they were right there. If they had an idea, they never hesitated to barge into the house and share it with me.

Finally we set up privacy guidelines. Part of the deal was they couldn't have parties. I wasn't worried about them, but I didn't want their friends wandering around my house or property, especially if they were high. They could live with that. 

Hits on our website had gotten so heavy that we had to set up a separate site to handle guest applications. They would pick what they thought were the most interesting, and I would make the final decision.

"Relationships, traditional marriage, and otherwise. That's our topic for the next show. I won't put restrictions on the type, straight, gay, polygamist, or maybe an alternative I hadn't thought of. Visit our site, and we may get back to you."

That was the blurt for the coming show.

We weren't buried with responses, but pretty close. In the end, we picked a gay couple, a lesbian couple, a polygamist with two wives, one regular married couple, and one couple that were married but agreed ahead to never have sex. Curiosity got me on that one, how were they sustaining? We also had a couple that lived in an 'open' marriage, seeking others out for sexual pleasure while still claiming to love each other and respect their marriage. At the last minute, we added a couple who claimed to have a slave/owner relationship, and a single woman who had decided to live alone, without a permanent mate. More people than we wanted, but they all presented their views so well I decided to keep them all. If necessary, we would do enough for two shows. I made arrangements with the station, just in case.

We also decided to tape the show. It would still be live, this would just allow us to edit out some of the non necessary parts and improve the flow. It also meant guests could come in during reasonable hours, instead of midnight, which is when we aired.

I sent Julie and Joyce out with a check, to find a table big enough to handle fourteen people. They found a huge conference table at a used furniture store. We had it delivered to the studio we were using and Joyce set up three microphones, using the group for sound checks.

Carlos told me I needed at least one more camera to be able to get the shots we needed on such a large group, so we added one more guy, just for the night.

I thought about it for a little while, I was a big fan of Charlie Rose when he had his PBS show. Not so much now that he was on regular television, but on his old show he did most of his interviews at what looked like a kitchen table. I had the girls get one, capable of seating six, to use later. It looked more intimate, somehow, and very few people stress while sitting at a table, compared to a couch setting. That's what Sarah said, anyway.

When we taped, we gathered all the guests and had them sign the waivers my lawyer had prepared.

I explained in detail. 

"Look, it's my show, but your opinions. I may not share them, but if I hadn't wanted to hear them I wouldn't have invited you. BUT, they are your opinions, and you're responsible for them."

I read the disclaimer after my opening remarks.

"Just to let you know, folks, the opinions you hear tonight are the responsibility of our guests.

We're just a forum for them. If you disagree with their views or opinions, you have two choices."

"One, turn the channel. No one is forcing you to watch something that offends you. Two, if you do watch, keep an open mind. You might learn something."

I went round the table introducing everyone, but I didn't say who was what. The audience would catch on pretty quick. After I got them settled we got started.

"George Washington said in his farewell address 'beware of entangling alliances'. Of course, he was talking about international treaties, but it applies in real life. In the past, who you mated with determined a lot of your life path. If you aligned with a certain village or tribe, it automatically made others your enemy. Now, it's mostly financial and social. The theme echoes through time. Even now, especially for women, one of the first thing her peers wonder if is she 'married well'. It's not as prevalent as it was, but it's still there."

"In my opinion, relationships with those you love are the most serious undertakings you'll attempt. Everything you are, everything you become, are shaped and molded by the people dear to you. A few may be shaped by people not so dear, but still have an impact."

"That being said, relationships can take on many forms with many people. The standard for us, of course, is the husband/wife/child relationship."

"But what if you want something different? What if the standard just doesn't work for you? Do you give up? Or do you forge a new style of relationship, something that brings you peace, satisfaction, joy? Some of our guests tonight have found alternatives that work for them. Let's begin."

I turned to my first guest.

"What better way to start out than by interviewing someone who has chosen not to have a permanent relationship, one of a growing group of people, especially urban women, who prefer to go through life without a permanent partner. Natalie, did I say that right?"

Natalie, a tall, willowy blonde with a beautiful smile, nodded.

"More or less. I had two serious relationships before I chose this path. Both ended badly, my fault both times. I wasn't unfaithful, I just wasn't willing to give that much of myself away. When I realized that I was happier alone, I never looked back."

Carol, one of the lesbian couple, asked a question.

"Don't you miss the connection you only have with someone you love?"

She smiled.

"I don't think I've ever been truly in love. My last permanent partner loved me totally, but he wanted too much of me. Plus, he wanted children, and I've never felt the primal urge to procreate.

Maybe I'm just a selfish person. Maybe I'm a little off, but at least I've come to terms with who I am. I'm happy. I have a large circle of friends, many who think as I do. I've been more content in the last four years than any other point in my life."

"What about sex?" blurted out one of the other guests, one of the polygamist wives.

"I enjoy sex. I have regular relations with three men who have the same mindset I do. We admire each other, I'm particularly close to one, we've even vacationed together on occasion. But, by the end of the week, we're both more than happy to go home alone. And I'm not a slut, regardless of how it sounds. We're careful, use protection, and get checked every three months, just in case."

There were a few more questions, and we went to the next guests, the polygamists.

"This is Charlie, Claire, and Cat. Rather than go into their circumstances, I'll let them explain."

Cat was apparently the driving force in the relationship. A short, chunky redhead, her personality resembled that of a happy pit bull. Forceful yet loving.

"If anyone would have told me when I was twenty I would be happy in a relationship where I had to share my husband, I would have either laughed or slapped them."

"I was married before. So was was Claire. Both failed for different reasons. We ended up sharing an apartment, commiserating about the failings of men in general and our husbands in particular. We didn't date for awhile, eight months for me, almost a year for Claire. The first few after that ranged from amusing to horrible."

"We got into a habit of analyzing each date, and started constructing the perfect mate, ranking him in attributes. He had to be kind. Loyal. Understanding. He had to want kids, and we had to feel he'd make a good father. He had to be good in bed, or at least trainable. Sexually, size didn't matter as long as he could satisfy us. He didn't have to be handsome, just presentable. What we wanted went deeper than outside appearances."

"Of course, we were looking for a man for each of us, we had no idea we would ever be considering sharing."

"Then Claire met Charlie. He wasn't impressive, at first. He was so calm, and quiet. It took her two dates to see past the surface. She received some unwanted attention from another man, someone she used to date. We were double dating, so I got to witness it."

"The guy was rude. Charlie remained quiet until he grabbed her arm. I don't know exactly what he did, but he removed the man's hand and forced him to his knees. In a calm voice he asked him to apologize, and leave us in peace."

"What happens if I decide to take her away from you?" The man sneered. He was a lot bigger than Charlie.

"Charlie smiled. It chilled me to see it. There was malice in that smile."

"Then I let you get to your feet, take you outside, and beat the hell out of you. Your choice. Fight, or apologize."

He had bent over, so he could look the guy in the eye. I don't know what the guy saw in his eyes, but he practically ran out of the building."

"Claire sat there amazed. Why did you do that, she asked."

"Because I like you. Because you were with me, and I protect what's mine, even if it's in just a social situation. It's the way I was raised. If you have difficulty with that, I'll escort you home."

"I think we both fell in love with him then. Claire just snuggled into him, thanking him for defending her."

"Claire and I talked a lot that night after the date, both taken by this quiet, forceful man."

"She got more and more serious over him while I continued to date losers and idiots. I think my problem was I kept comparing them to Charlie, and they just didn't measure up."

"It all changed when Claire had to have her appendix removed. Charlie had gotten tickets to a touring Broadway show, one of her favorites, months ago. He was going to give them to a friend when Claire convinced him to go, and take me."

"My two favorite people in the world, doing something they both love. Do it for me, she said."

"It was a dream date. He was kind, attentive, putting me first. We saw the show, attended a reception with some of the actors, drank, danced a little. I was sad to see it end."

"He escorted me to the door. Honest, it was just supposed to be a friendly goodnight kiss. But it wasn't. It was hot, intense, unlike everything I had ever felt. No idea how long it lasted, a few seconds, months, who knows? But when we broke it, everything had changed. I'll let Charlie continue."

Charlie cleared his throat, choosing his words.

"I was falling in love with Claire. She was everything I thought I wanted in a woman. Attractive, sweet, level headed. Our relationship was progressing nicely, and I was starting to think long term."

"Most roommates, especially women like Claire and Cat, both getting over bad relationships, tend to be protective of each other. I even thought she might be an obstacle. I was wrong."

"Cat was more forceful, less worried about hurting feelings. Not mean, just direct. I admired her for that. We just said what we thought and let each other deal with it. I found it very refreshing. We got along famously."

"When Claire had her appendix removed, we were both at the hospital as long as they would allow. I was really surprised when Claire insisted we use our tickets. I think I did it to please her as much as anything else."

"I had never really seen Cat dressed up. I know I made a fool of myself at the door. She was quite stunning."

"We enjoyed the performance, and the reception afterwards, especially the dancing. She was like a feather on the floor."

"Maybe we drank more than we should, maybe it was the magic of the moment, but we we kissed I felt like I had been hit with an electric charge. It felt almost exactly like it did when I kissed Claire. I left their apartment a very confused individual."

I asked if they made the leap into polygamy quickly. Claire spoke for the first time.

"Not at all. In fact, Charlie kind of disappeared."

He stopped dating me, making weak excuses when I called. Cat was acting weird at the same time, I was really unhappy. The one person I felt understood me didn't want to talk about it. I finally went to his job and confronted him."

"He broke down and confessed to kissing Cat and the feeling he got when he did. I was devastated. I went home and railed at Cat, and she cried and apologized until I stopped."

"We walked around each other carefully for the next two weeks. Cat finally called Charlie and chewed him out, telling him he was taking me out Saturday and if I didn't have a good time she was going to kick his ass."

"we went out, it was as good as before as long as we avoided the elephant in the room. Cat stopped dating, saying she was taking a break. Though she tried to hide it, I could see glimpses of pain in her eyes when I told her about my dates."

"To this day I can't tell you why I did it, but I told Charlie if he didn't take Cat out and cheer her up, I wouldn't see him anymore. He did, reluctantly. This set a pattern for the next eight months. I would go out with him twice, then Cat."

Cat came back into the conversation.

"Finally, we were going to see a movie that Claire really wanted to see. You should have seen the look on his face when he came to pick me up and we were both ready."

"Honey, I said, we both want to see this movie and it makes no sense to make you sit through it twice. We're all going, no argument."

"After that night, we all went out together. He got really intense goodnight kisses from both of us, every time. One night we said the hell with it, and dragged him into the apartment."

"Before you ask, there were no wild threesomes, and we're not bi. When one wanted to be intimate, the other stayed in another bedroom. We generally chose, and Charlie never complained. Usually though, after the lovemaking was over, the other would end up sleeping in the same bed."

"Charlie was extremely careful to treat us exactly the same. It got irritating, and we stopped him, knowing if one got a little extra attention now the other would later."

"Claire and I were afraid to plan long term, but, true to his nature, Charlie took charge. He called us one afternoon and gave us an address, with instructions to be there in an hour."

"It was a house, one for sale in a nice neighborhood. He and the realtor were standing by the door."

He had the realtor show us around while he stayed out of the way. It was a fabulous house, we both adored it."

"He sat us on the couch and asked the realtor to give us a moment alone."

"He asked each of us if we liked the house, he was seriously considering buying it. We told him we did, and Claire asked why he needed such a big house."

"For the kids I want, after I marry. We both choked up, thinking he had found someone else. He knelt between us, a ring box in each hand."

"Claire, Cat, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, raise our kids together. Will you marry me?"

"The rings were identical. Of course, he wouldn't marry just one of us, he said, it's all or nothing. He felt like we were already soulmates, no paper could change that."

"And that is how we ended up on your show. We're not ashamed of our relationship. It's been three years now, and I think we love each other more, if that's possible. Oh and Claire has something to add. She won the coin toss, you'll understand in just a few minutes."

The whole table looked expectantly at Claire. She took Cat and Charlie by the hand,

"I'm very pleased to announce in six more months, on of our empty bedrooms will become the new nursery. Honey, it's a girl."

Charlie sat there with his mouth hanging open before the tears started. It was a very powerful moment, and we left it in. Cat enjoyed the moment before finishing.




Brother Love Ch. 04



"We decided we wanted two each. Claire won the toss, so she went first. When OUR daughter is a year old, it will be my turn, and we'll rotate until we're done."

"One more thing, we're not pushing this lifestyle. It works for us because of who we are, a different set of people will never get exactly the same results."

There was a little more discussion about how the parents and friends responded and how they got along with their neighbors, before we took a break.

Dirty Blond was back, with another singer and Gary. The new guy could sing, and they featured him on the first song. 

.................................................

That night we got our first blowup. It was the couple who agreed to forgo sex in the relationship. He was thirty, she was twenty seven.

"So, celibacy? How can you fight those primal urges. Tell me how that came about?"

The woman, Maggie, spoke first.

"Control and discipline, that's how we maintain. The decision was based on past experiences for both of us."

"My last marriage cured me of sexual desire with another human. He raped me on a regular basis, beat me relentlessly. I will always bear the scars. I finally divorced him after he put me in the hospital the second time. He actually went to jail, for eighteen months. I had a restraining order on him, which he promptly walked through when he got out to beat me again. He's still in jail, he got five years minimum, it'll be three more years before he gets out. I've moved all the way across the country, and changed my name, before I got married again."

She paused, trying to contain her emotions.

"I didn't date for three years, before I met Harry. He was relentless in a different and better way. He supported me, not judging when I couldn't bear to let him touch me. He's twelve years older. so maybe he's outgrown a lot of his urges."

"I got to the point where I could kiss him, and then cuddle on the couch. We would even do a little petting on occasion, until I would freeze up."

Harry jumped in.

"I loved her from the moment I saw her. I have a very low sex drive, partially due to a medical condition, so it didn't bother me a lot. Don't get me wrong, she's very desirable, attractive, toned, you should see her naked. I would love to make love to her, but not enough to lose what we have."

I couldn't stand it.

"Even with a low sex drive, how do you cope? By your own admission she turns you on, what do you do?"

He smiled.

"I do what monks have done through the ages. I channel my sexual energy into other endeavors. Remember, it was monks who invented champagne and cappichino. I carve, and have become quite good at it. I sell my works through two dealers. The money is very good."

I turned to Maggie.

"How do you deal with it? I agree with your husband, you're very attractive, young, vibrant. How do you stop the urges?"

She looked surprised.

"I don't. I have a very large toy collection, and use them regularly."

Harry looked at her oddly, as if he wasn't sure what she said. 

"Really?" I asked. "My definition of celibacy is you abstain from any type of sex, including self satisfaction. Did I miss something?"

She laughed.

"Before my first husband, I was a bit of a wild child. I liked sex, a lot. It took him years to beat that out of me. But, come on, look at me. I'm young, and I remember what it's like. So I shopped online, got a few toys, and when the urge gets too powerful to ignore, I wait until Harry isn't around and get some relief."

One of the gay women asked if she thought it was fair to relieve herself while her husband abstained.

"I never really thought about it. Harry loves me, why should it bother him?"

Harry had slowly been getting more and more agitated.

"I'll tell you why it should bother me, you stupid woman. Even though my drive is low, it's still there. But I loved you enough to control it."

"We agreed, WE AGREED, damn you, that we would both be celibate. Celibate means no sex at all, not just no sex with partners."

Maggie looked stunned.

"I didn't think it would matter."

Harry had a full head of steam, and rolled right over her.

"If you thought it was of no consequence, why weren't you upfront with me, instead of buying things online and hiding them, then use them when I wasn't around? That right there tells me you knew it was wrong. What did you really expect would happen when I found out?"

She was starting to have a panicked look on her face.

"I expected you would be happy for me. I was satisfying my bodily urges without involving anyone else. I did it for us, honey. I can be really bitchy when I'm frustrated."

"And you think my life is sunshine and roses? Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to sleep with you, get that hot body rubbing all over me, then stop? I didn't think so. The only thing that kept me in control was the knowledge that you were going through the same thing."

"Well surprise, fucking surprise[that got edited out]. I loved you enough to give up sex in any form, but you? Oh no, when you get horny, let BOB[battery operated boyfriend]do it."

"I knew you were damaged, hells bells, you got more issues than National Geographic, but I never thought you would disrespect me like this. There will be a serious discussion when we get home. I"m sorry, Mr. Love, but I've had all I can stand right now. Maggie, I suggest you stay away from home for a few hours, better yet, spend the night with your sister, so I can calm down. Good night."

Of course, a lot more was said or was attempted to say, but he ignored her and left. She left shortly after.

We cut to the band, and they did a song while we sorted things out.

................................................

The gay, lesbian, and normal couples were next, and despite their leanings or orientations, they all said pretty much the same thing. Love, trust, honesty, understanding, if you didn't have them all you were pretty much doomed.

One of the lesbians asked me my opinion on gay marriages.

"I'm a hundred percent for it, and I'll tell you why. Our society is big on traditions, one of the biggest being joined officially as a couple. It doesn't matter to me who you love, if it's a serious, enduring relationship, it should be publicly acknowledged and recognized."

"I guess it is a form of closure, reaffirming a commitment to the general public. As it is now, you guys can just walk away from each other, I take this, you take that, done. Same sex couples should be able to feel the same misery regular couples feel when their unions collapse, down to arguing over furniture neither of you want or need."

There was a little laughter. Cat spoke up.

"I think you've thought about this way too long. You're not married now, are you? Ever been?"

Mist came into my eyes. I shook it off.

"Yes, for five years. Divorced two. It was pretty bloodless, as divorces go."

"But, it was still a divorce. A public acknowledgement that we had failed, hadn't lived up to our promises. If I were President, I think I'd make it illegal to marry before the age of twenty five, after six months of couples counseling and a mandatory year of cohabitation. How far do you think the divorce rate would drop?"

"A lot, I'd hope. People would have to take it a lot more seriously."

There were a lot of agreeing voices around the table.

.................................................

It was time for the next couple. The submission/domination lifestyle.

They were in their mid forties, nicely dressed, him in a suit, her in a sweater and skirt. My one concession to them was to allow them to wear masks, full coverings made of leather, with slits for their eyes and mouth.

"Wanna explain the masks before we start?"

The woman remained silent. It seemed as the interview progressed that she wouldn't speak unless he specifically told her to.

He held up his hand.

"Our lifestyle is no one's concern but ours. I work in the public, own my own company, she is in a position of authority in a very conservative business. We're afraid our quality of life would suffer. I'm not ashamed of how we live, but we have bills, college expenses, retirement to save for."

I nodded, understanding.

"I see. Tell me, have you always led this lifestyle?"

"Absolutely not. We were just an average couple for many years. It's only been three years since we started living like this."

"How did it come about? Did you both just wake up someday and say, hey, today I become a dominant/submissive in our relationship?"

Not at all" he said. "It took us almost divorcing to change us."

"We had been together twenty one years. The first ten were glorious, the next five comfortable, the last three before we made the change miserable. We started fighting constantly, disagreeing on everything. I've always been a quiet, laid back guy, she's always been the outgoing type."

"When our nest was empty, she became an absolute shrew. Abusive, demanding, disrespectful. I think for awhile the only thing that kept us together was inertia."

"The last six months were absolutely miserable. I went out of my way to keep us going, and she just got worse and worse. I thought it might be menopause, and did some research, looked into character disorders. There was a treatise on how it affected different personality types. That's how I discovered her submissive side. She was being so miserable to me to get me to assert myself, take charge."

"It took me a long time to figure this out. One night I took her out, treated her like a princess. She bitched the whole time. But I lost it when we got home, over her underwear. The straw that broke the camel's back."

He paused for a sip of water. He was a good speaker, and we were paying close attention.

"Was it the nice set I had bought her, the demi bra and matching lavender thong? No, it was a plain white bra and full cut panties."

"Without saying too much, her work requires white uniforms. Naturally, all you can wear under it is white. Eventually she got rid of everything else. You can't see it sitting down, but this woman has an ass, sorry, butt to die for. It's great. And she used to wear some pretty daring stuff. Now, it was like it didn't matter, because she had no reason to entice me because we almost never made love anymore."

"When I asked her why she didn't wear the new outfit, she smirked, asking why she should wear them, it's not like she had anyone to impress or please. I lost it, left the bedroom, slept in the spare."

"By slept I mean tossed and turned, wondering where our marriage went wrong. Tried to decide which lawyer to use for the divorce, how to split up the assets. Who gets the house, that sort of thing."

"We were both off for the weekend. I finally got up, and found her at the table, drinking coffee. I think she was feeling remorse. She apologized, offering to make it up to me."

"Good, I snapped. Go with me to the mall. She looked at me like I had lost my mind."

"What? You want me to make up with you by letting you take me to the mall."

"Her smirk was coming back, but I held it in."

"I had a plan, based on a commercial I had seen on television. The woman was talking about getting kids to communicate with you. One tried and true method was to get them in the car. Trapped at high speeds, they couldn't help but listen."

"We rode in silence for a few minutes before she looked over."

"Why are we going to the mall?"

"I was looking straight ahead, watching the road."

"You're going to pick up some new underwear. Four pair of panties, two bras. Two of the panties have to match the bras. I want bright colors, absolutely no white. I'll let you decide which shop."

"She exploded."

"Like hell! Turn this damn car around right now."

"I pulled over into a grocery store lot, killed the engine, breathed four or five times, turned and looked at her. She was staring out the window, ignoring me."

"Look at me, I said. She didn't turn."

"I grabbed her hair, forcing her head around. Her eyes were wide in shock. I had never touched her with such force before."

"Listen to me carefully. I will no longer live like we have. It changes today. I love you, but I've had enough. I've tried for three years to win you back from whatever demons have controlled you. I decided last night I wasn't trying to win you back anymore."

"I still had her by the hair, her eyes were wide. a little frightened. She tried to say something and I clapped a hand over it."

"Do not speak! Time for you to listen! As I said before, I'm done trying to win you back. As of today, I'm taking you back! If you give me the least bit of grief when I let you go, I'll toss your ass out of this car. Get a cab to take you where you want to go, but it will be in your best interest not to come back to my house. It will end badly, I guarantee it."

"You have a choice here. When I take my hand off your mouth, you can get out of the car. Or, you can sit quietly while we continue to the mall. Your choice, and I have to tell you, it better be the right one."

"I let go of her and took my hand off her mouth. I had never seen the expression on her face. She acted like she wanted to say something twice, before she settled back into her seat. I sat there five minutes waiting for a reaction before I drove on to the mall."

"When we parked, she started to open the door. She jumped in surprise when I smacked her thigh lightly."

"New rule, I told her. If we're together, I will open your door when you get in, and you will wait until I open it to get out. You don't have to speak, just nod your head."

"She looked at me, before she slowly nodded her head."

"I opened her door and we walked into the mall.."

I stopped just inside. She looked surprised."

"Four pair, two bras. Just a reminder, if any of them are full cut grannie panties, I'll let you wear them while I spank you."

"I smacked her ass lightly. She jumped, and looked around to see if anyone was looking. I smacked her again, just a little harder."

"Do you understand? Repeat it to me."

"She wouldn't look me in the eye. I barely heard her."

"Yes sir, four pair of panties, two bras. No white, no full cuts. How much time may I take?"

"I'm glad she wasn't looking at me. My mouth had to be hanging open. She seemed so meek, it was unreal."

"You can take two hours, that should be enough time. I'll meet you in the food court then. Understand?"

"She nodded and walked slowly away."

"I saw her from time to time, going in and out of shops. She looked serious, focused. It was almost exactly two hours later when she showed up, with two bags. She started to tell me about her purchases, trying to open the bags for me to look."

"Once again I shushed her with my hand."

"I don't want to hear about them. I want to see them, on you, after we get home. My own fashion show. I'm hungry, let's go have lunch."

"I took her to one of my favorites, a place she didn't care for. She just looked at me and waited for me to open her door."

"We had a pleasant meal. She actually smiled a couple of times. I was looking at her, thinking how much I loved her, when I noticed her hair. It had been in the same style for nine years, and she normally wore it in a bun."

"We left, and I drove her back to the mall. She looked askance."

"Forgot something, I said, as I took her back in."

"She saw where we were heading and pulled back a bit. I just tightened my hand and pulled a little harder."

"It was a day spa, with all the amenities, including a nice salon. The woman behind the counter had a name tag, Dawn."

"Dawn, this is my wife. She's ready for a change. Can you help us?"

"She looked us over."

"I'm sure we can help. Please, define change."

"I waved my arm. Hair. pedicure, manicure, Massage, just to start. Do you have a stylist available?"

"She checked her book."

"You're in luck, Janine will be available in five minutes."

"We sat, and when she took my wife to the booth, I tagged along."

"We engaged in a little small talk, Janine wanting to know what she was looking for."

"I took two hundred dollar bills and tore them in two, handing each a half."

"Girls, I said, please take care of her. If I like the results, you get the other half."

"Janine, something a good bit shorter, get rid of the gray, maybe put in a highlight or two." 

"I gave my wife a hug, told her I'd see her later."

"I walked back out front. Giving Dawn the other two halves of the bills, I told her I felt I could trust her to look after things."

"Give her the full treatment, including a total wax. Anything else she wants she gets, okay?"

"Dawn nodded, grinning. I gave her my credit card, told her to make sure anyone else taking care of her was rewarded. I also told her to have a cab ready when she was done because I didn't want to spend the next five hours waiting. I had things to do at home."

"There's a shop, you might know the one, over on Maple? An adult shop. I stopped there, browsed, made a few purchases, went home, and did a little research on the internet. Six hours later she got out of the cab. I thought it was someone else! She had changed her hair to a completely different color. It was cut far shorter than ever before in our marriage, one side longer than the other. She was actual glowing when she came through the door. She started to speak and I held up my hand.

"Fashion show! Now!"

"She went straight into the bedroom, coming out five minutes later in a matching bra and panty set. The panty was almost a thong, and the bra was basically just a shelf to display her breasts. She turned slowly, giving me the full view. I had her stand while I ran my hands over her body, enjoying the feel of silk and lace. She was trembling hard by the time I was done."

"Next! I ordered, until she had gone through everything she had bought."

"The last pair was almost nonexistent, absolutely the tiniest thong I had ever seen. It was just a black satin ribbon, with a strand of pearls below. She was completely bald, for the first time ever. It set her new smooth look off to perfection."

He paused, thinking before he asked a question.

"The next part is pretty graphic, should I continue?"

By now, everyone in the studio was hanging on every word. We had to know how it ended.

"Please. We air at midnight, so we should be safe. Plus, if it's just too much, we'll edit it out."

He gathered his thoughts.

"I wouldn't let her put anything else back on. I tested her a little, ordering her to stand in front of me and turn, while I stopped her once in a while to stroke her body. I played with her twice, bringing her close to orgasm, before backing off."

"We hadn't really kissed in years, and I ordered her to sit on my lap and do nothing but kiss me for five minutes. I was surprised I had a tongue left when the time was up."

He stopped again, debating how much more to say.

"She's never liked doing oral, and I figured when I ordered her to perform she would balk. She didn't hesitate, doing a good job, all the way to completion, and swallowed, the first time ever."

"She always liked receiving oral, but made me stop after her first orgasm, saying she got too sensitive. I took her to the bed, pulled out the padded cuffs, and bound her down. She moved like she was in a trance, and offered no resistance. She orgasmed almost instantly, and I refused to stop, bringing her to two more. She was practically screaming at the end."

"I flipped her over and bound her arms again."

"I'm both ashamed and proud of what I did next. I rubbed her bottom gently, until she was wriggling underneath my hand. Then I brought my hand down hard on her left cheek. I was amazed at how loud it sounded. She screamed at the first one, but just grunted through the rest. I spanked her six times, twice for each year of misery she had put us through. I explained this to her in between spanks. When I was done I went back to lightly rubbing her bottom,as she sobbed and gasped into the pillow. Finally she said something, so low I couldn't hear it. I leaned down and asked her to repeat.




Brother Love Ch. 04



"Thank you, she said. Then she begged me to take her. I didn't even undo the restraints, just pulled her up and took her from behind, and I wasn't gentle. I'm sure it was just a matter of minutes before it was over, but it was intense beyond belief for both of us. I collapsed on her and she didn't complain. When I roused enough I let her loose. I woke up during the night to find her asleep on my chest, for the first time in years."

"Our relationship changed immediately, evolving into what it is now. I'll let my wife take it from here."

She spoke with a calm, measured voice. You couldn't see it, but you could feel her smile.

"It was simple, when you get down to it. I have a submissive personality, something it took years to discover. I didn't like making decisions. J...my husband loved me dearly but didn't see it, so he let me get away with a lot. Then I was promoted at work, so now I was telling people what to do. I'm afraid I was a terrible boss the first year or so. I let my subordinates walk all over me."

"Then our child left for college. I felt like I was a drifting boat, waiting for someone to take the rudder. I couldn't articulate my needs because I didn't really recognize them, so I'm ashamed that in my confusion and misery I took it all out on my man. I was an absolute bitch for a long time, I really didn't know why he didn't leave me."

"We spent a little time in counseling after we changed, and I understood that I was trying to reach him, to make him take charge."

"The day it all changed, that morning in the car, it was like a light bulb went on, and I could finally see. When he said the words 'I'm taking you back', a thrill went through me that I can't explain. His firm, forceful manner during the whole day made me desperate to try and please him."

"Do I like being a submissive? I love it! I don't have a care in the world, don't have to make decisions, all I have to do is obey. I know it's a burden to my husband at times, but he relishes the responsibility."

I, as well as my guests, were enthralled. I asked her if she could give us some examples of her new life, without being to specific.

"I have nothing to hide" she laughed, "I'll answer anything within reason, unless my husband disapproves."

"Did it improve your sex life?" blurted Claire, blushing when she realized what she said.

"Before we changed, we didn't really have a love life. Now, we make love as often as he wants, and I'm proud to say that's fairly often. We do a lot of things we never did before, and I've enjoyed them immensely. It's not a one way street, I want him a lot, now, too."

"I was pretty stingy with sex, before. For instance, if he woke me in the middle of the night wanting oral, I would have stormed out of the bedroom and slept in the guestroom for a few days. Now, when I wake with his hand on the back of my head pushing me down, I smile."

Almost everyone had a reflective look on their faces.

"Does he beat you?" asked Natalie, voicing what many of us wondered. The husband answered.

"No! It's my responsibility to keep her safe and in good health. There is a little corporal punishment, spankings and such. Sometimes I bind her, or do something more creative to reinforce a point. She accepts and even expects it, if she fails me in something. We're not about pain, or the whole BDSM thing. It's about guiding her through life in a way to insure her happiness."

"So, does he let you wear white panties to work?"

asked Claire, as everyone laughed.

The woman answered, once again with humor.

"Yes. It's part of my uniform. But, I have standing orders to take them off as soon as I get home. He gets home before I do, and he lays out what he wants me to change into on our bed. Sometimes it's a sexy gown. Sometimes it's just a pair of panties. Sometimes it's nothing, and I spend the rest of the night naked."

"Does that bother you, being completely dependent on him? Doesn't it isolate you from the rest of the world?" asked one of the lesbians.

"Not at all. We still do things apart from each other. He likes to fish, and I still go out with my friends twice a month to let off a little steam. But if he has a reason to keep me at home, I stay without question. And I have a curfew that I'm smart enough not to violate."

"Overall, my life is much better than before. I'm happy. I'm a better human being, even a better boss. When one of my employees gets out of hand I imagine what my husband would do if it was me and act accordingly."

"You mean you spank them?" giggled Cat.

"I wish. No, but there are company protocols I'm a lot stricter on than before. Once they saw I wasn't a pushover anymore, I've had very few problems."

.................................................

"All right, time for the last couple. For our purposes, we'll call them Bob and Alice. They've been married for fourteen years, and have been self described 'swingers' for the last three. They regularly have sex with other people, and say it makes their marriage stronger. Welcome."

Alice was heavily made up, with an obvious wig and large sunglasses. Bob had a fake beard, a hat, and sunglasses. They both nodded their hellos.

"I'm going to ask what everybody is thinking right off the bat. How does it work, exactly? How did you get started, how long do you plan on continuing, are you truly happy with this lifestyle, and whose idea was it originally?"

Alice answered.

"It works because we make it work. There are strict rules, violate just one and the marriage is over. No individual dates. No going to the parties we attend without the other. When one says it's time to leave, we leave. A few other things, but those are the biggies. And it was my idea."

"Our marriage was failing. We loved each other, but the fire had died out. After eleven years, sex was just sort of automatic and boring. Oh, we satisfied each other physically, but something was missing. We both felt it. We were in a rut so deep we couldn't see out."

"I was having a girl's night out, and as always, sex came up. I had just enough wine to let my feelings out. One friend suggested role playing, another said I should have an affair. It seems she had had a stream of lovers, said it kept her marriage fresh. Her husband didn't agree when he found out a month later, and divorced her. I could never cheat on my husband anyway. Another friend, someone I had known for years offered nothing, but called me the next day and wanted to know if she could come by, saying she might have a solution to my problem."

"I was surprised she had her husband with her."

"Honey", she said, "how long have you known us? Seven years, right. What I'm about to tell you must never be repeated except to your husband, I need your solemn promise."

"Curious as to where this was going, I agreed."

"She drew a deep breath."

"Do you think we're decent people? Ever heard anyone say anything bad about us?"

"I shook my head no."

"My husband and I associate with another little group outside the neighborhood. We've known each other for years, and get together once a month to indulge in mutual pursuits. To put it bluntly, we swing. By swing I mean we have sex with other partners. Are you shocked? I think you are, judging by the look on your face."

"I know my mouth was hanging open. MY God, she was president of the PTO, and he was in a very public job."

"The only thing I could think to say was why. Her husband took over."

"Because we were where you guys are now. We all talk you know. You're considered dull as wallpaper. You guys have no spark. If you stay on this path, your marriage won't end with a bang, it'll end with a whimper, whether you stay together or not. You don't have to choose what we're about to offer you, but for the sake of your marriage do something. We like you both, a lot, or we wouldn't reveal ourselves. Regardless of what happens, we feel sure you'll keep this to yourselves."

"As to why, he continued, it was because we needed it, and had a friend sharp enough to spot it. We met with his group at a nonswinging party, and they answered as many questions as we could think of, and gave their phone numbers if we thought of more. We thought about it, and attended on of their other parties, just to watch. We didn't participate then, but it made us so hot we practically raped each other when we got home. We hadn't had that kind of passion in years. It took us two months to finally do it, and I have to tell you, it was almost surreal in its' weirdness. We didn't do anything in front of each other, we just weren't ready, but I had two different women and she had three different men, and we were still so charged up we made love until the sun came up."

"How often do you swap?" asked one of the lesbians.

"On average, once a month. Sometimes more often, if there's a holiday. Sometimes we don't attend a party for months, depending on out schedules."

"Aren't you afraid you'll develop feelings for one of your partners? What would happen then?"

"We're a pretty tight group, only six couples, and we do have feelings for them. We trust them with our most intimate moments, but we all know there will be no 'I'm in love with you, let's run off together' situations."

Bob had fielded this question, but something in her posture made me repeat the question to Alice.

"This true, Alice? No one slips away for a little private time once in awhile? What happens if something like that is discovered?"

"It's happened twice, once before we joined and once since. When the group finds out, usually both couples are expelled. That's why we're so careful when we offer to let new couples in. Actions like that could destroy us all if it came to divorce or lawsuits."

She paused.

"And yes, it's hard not to develop feelings for people who share the most intimate of actions. You have to learn to remember what's important, and reaffirm your commitment to your partner often."

Cat, always vocal it seems, asked the next question.

"Do you see yourselves continuing this lifestyle indefinitely?"

Bob answered for both.

"We really enjoy the lifestyle, but I don't see it going on into our golden years. We've talked about it, a lot. Right now it's fun, and it's brought us closer than ever before, but I think we both agree that sometime in the future we'll simply outgrow it, like a sport, I guess. We'll look back on it in fondness I hope, the same as we would skiing or scuba diving. It was fun, but we just simply outgrew it."

There were a few more questions about possible STDs, what would happen if it became public knowledge, that sort of thing.

..................................................

It was time to wrap it up. We had been at it for over two hours, I wasn't sure how it was going to look edited.

I thanked all the guests for being brave enough to come, thanked Dirty Blond and friends, thanked the crew, then gave my parting comments.

"Thanks for watching. I hope you learned something tonight, gave you food for thought. We had some more people that wanted to be on tonight, but for various reasons we didn't bring on. One was from someone claiming to be from the Man/boy Love Association. When he explained what that was I freaked and called the cops. Anyone who would harm a child sexually or otherwise is the lowest of the low."

"I did hear from a couple who were brother and sister living as man and wife. I was too uncomfortable with that to let them on the show, but I did post them on our site. Read them if you want but be aware, we do not endorse this type of lifestyle."

"There is also some comments from a couple who enjoy a 'cuckhold' lifestyle, the wife going out and sleeping with anyone she wants while the faithful husband remains at home."

"I guess when it comes to relationships, the man who said 'different strokes for different folks' was right. Every time you try to put relationships

in a box, you find people thinking outside it, or ignoring the box altogether. It all boils down to whatever makes you happy, I guess."

"Thanks for sharing your time with us, we do appreciate it. I guess someone is out there watching, and he took me to task for not commenting on the paintings behind my desk last show. Just for the record, one was by Georgia O'Keeffe, my favorite by her, Ladder To The Moon, and the other is by Thomas Cole, founder of the Hudson River style of painters, The Oxbow. Behind me right now is Winter In the Garden, by the folk artist Grandma Moses, and another O'Keeffe, Black Iris."

"Goodnight, hope to see you soon."

.................................................

As was becoming usual after taping a show, I had vivid dreams, with Deb as the centerpiece. We were like any young couple, we played sexual games, assumed roles for pleasures. I look back now and think she may have had her own submissive streak hidden under that superior demeanor. Maybe that was why she was attracted to me to start with, because I didn't toe a line with her.

It bothered her a lot at first, she was used to being the center of the universe, and I refused to orbit around her. We fought a lot, at first.

I think what concerned her most was that when she went into spoiled princess mode I would walk away from her, not see her for days sometimes. 

Then she would call, all apologetic, and we would start again. Gradually she began to see the value of negotiation over demand. The honey over vinegar theory.

Then she figured out how to work that, and started trying to manipulate me. I was foolish enough to fall for it for awhile. But I eventually caught on and it led to some serious fights. In fact it broke us up for about two months.

As fights go, the last one we had was pretty spectacular. It was over marriage, oddly enough.

..............................................

We were seniors, due to graduate in a few months.

I had already landed a job as an engineer in a modular housing plant. I was the compliance engineer, reviewing the blueprints to make sure they met all the necessary codes for every state we sold our houses in. It was a good job for me, kept me abreast of all the latest changes and up to date requirements.

It was a pretty complex job, that I knew I would thrive on. I guess that was why I drew an above average salary for an entry position.

The drawback was I would have to move about a hundred miles away.

She literally threw a fit, demanding I not take the job so she could stay close to her parents.

I refused, and the argument grew more intense very quickly.

"Well, if you take the job, you can just forget about the marriage."

I caught her by surprise when I asked her what she was talking about.

"Our wedding. Mom and I have been planning it for weeks. We think August would be best."

I almost sent her into shock when I asked her if I had missed something because I didn't remember proposing.

"Silly man, you didn't have to ask. Everyone knows we're meant to be together forever. Just let me handle it, I'll take care of everything while you look for something in town."

"No."

She obviously didn't understand.

"No what, honey?"

"No I won't be looking for something here in town. I start the job I want two weeks after graduation. No you can't handle everything about the wedding because there isn't going to be a wedding. There's a reason I haven't asked. You're just not mature enough for marriage yet. I keep waiting for you to grow up, but it just isn't happening. I love you more than life, but I don't think I could live with you right now."

She stormed. She ranted. She cried. Then she screamed out she was done with me and ran back to her sorority house. I didn't chase her.

I was an instant jerk to all her friends and her mother. Her dad just grinned at me.

"I'm sorry, son. Some of this is my fault. We weren't supposed to be able to have kids. When she came along she was a genuine miracle. We were so happy we just couldn't say no to her. By the time I had figured out my mistake it was too late. Between the temper tantrums and cold shoulders for her and her mom, I just gave up and went along."

Don't get me wrong here. I truly loved her, and was miserable, but not enough to give in.

I talked to Aunt Elsa about it. She really liked Deb, but warned me about her early on.

"It all comes down to if you love her enough to realize if you commit now she'll think she can run the marriage without letting you in on any decision making process. Can you live with that for the rest of your life?"

Short answer? No.

................................................

She waited for me to call and apologize. Then she waited some more. I was miserable, but I knew if I bent now any future we had would be on her terms. After two weeks she sent her friends to straighten me out.

I was a creature of habit, so all they had to do is stake out the coffeehouse and lie in ambush, to make our meeting 'accidental'.

They sat down without asking. I smiled at them.

"Bree, Heather, good to see you. Can I buy you a coffee? How's school? Got jobs yet? Got any love interests you want to tell me about? I'd like to hear every intimate detail of your life since the day you were born. Seriously. But the first time you bring up Deb, I'm gone. Understand?"

Bree looked stunned, while Heather's mouth was opening and closing like a fish breathing. She finally recovered.

"But Barry" she whined,"You know she..."

"Gotta go. Great to see you. Tell everyone I said hi." I was up and out there so fast they didn't have time to react.

Finally, when she saw I wasn't going to come to her, she started chasing me. I found in the hall outside of my last class of the day, waiting.

"Honey, we need..."

I walked right past her, talking to my friends. She was so stunned she just stood there, and by the time she recovered I was gone.

She parked out front of my apartment. The first time I saw her and just drove by. I had dinner, went to a movie, had a couple of beers. She was gone when I got home, but there was a letter from her taped to my door. It was still there four days later.

Her mom made a serious mistake by appearing at my door and demanding I come to my senses. Deb had a sister, married to a man they ruled with an iron fist. Her mom made him give up a good job to stay close, right down to picking out the house. I figured he'd last another six months before he left, or became so submissive any independent thought would be banished from his head.

I cut her off pretty fast.

"Mrs. Swinson[she hated that, demanding I call her mom], you need to know something right off the bat. IF I marry Deb, it will because I ask. We'll live where we think best, and is most beneficial for us. I AM taking that job. IF I decide to propose, I'm going to make it pretty damn clear I'm marrying just her, not the family.

Be warned, the first time you try to run my life will be the last time I see you, and I'm going to be very clear about this to Deb. She needs to decide if she can live with that before we go any further. Now, I was right in the middle of something, but I appreciate you stopping by. Have a super fantastic day."

She never made it into my apartment. I left her standing in the hallway with her mouth hanging open, shut the door, and went back to trying to finish my nap.

She told Deb I was a self centered asshole and she was much better off without me. She cut her off in mid tirade.

"He told you off, didn't he? I told you he was too independent minded to fall into line, didn't I? Give up Mom, he's not Greg[her brother] and never will be."

...............................................

She finally caught me in the coffee shop. I was standing in line when I felt someone wrap their hands around my knees. I looked down to see Deb, on her knees.

"What the hell are you doing Deb? Get up, you're embarrassing yourself. And me, and everyone else."




Brother Love Ch. 04



She just held on tighter.

"No! I'm not letting go until you agree to talk to me. Please."

I relented, promised I would talk, helped her up, and bought her a double expresso. We sat in a booth near the back, and everyone in the place made sure we were left alone.

She was crying softly. I sat, looking at her, missing her terribly, wanting to take her in my arms. Instead I just waited.

It took her a few minutes to speak. If she hadn't been holding my hand so tightly her knuckles were white I may have gotten up to leave. It was almost a whisper when she found her voice.

"I'm sorry?"

"All right."

She looked up at me, apparently it was not the answer she expected.

"Huh?"

"I said all right. I accept your apology. But let me ask you, what are you apologizing for, exactly?"

She sighed in frustration.

"Everything. I'm a true bitch, all right? I deserve to be miserable."

I gave her a little smile.

"Drop the drama, honey. Let me tell you what I think. I love you. Deeply. Truly. The thought of being married to you, having children together, fills me with great joy."

"That being said, I want to marry a woman, not a child with a sense of entitlement. You have to grow up, soon, or you never will. Yes, you deserve good things in life, everything you desire. Whether you get them is up to both of us, but no one is going to hand it to us just because we deserve it. We'll have to work for it. Am I getting through to you? I want a partner, not a princess. Do you understand? Are you willing to grow up? Be truthful here."

We talked for an hour. Two days later she was in my apartment again. Two months later we were living in another state. She was looking of a job that could use her skill set while I settled into my new job. I hadn't brought up marriage and she was smart enough not to push it.

.................................................

I did a blurt for our next show.

"The next subject will be education, more pointedly the decline of our educational system. If you have something specific you want us to ask, email us. I already have my guests lined up, so I won't be taking volunteers. See you soon."

................................................

Mesclun mix. Browning Goldring. Beets, onions, carrots. Fingerling potatoes. Spinach and Swiss Chard.

These are some of the things that have kept me away from the keyboard. I think I mentioned it before, but I farm, part time, and this is my busiest season. I have a little breathing room right now, and have a few things almost ready to post, so I hope you'll hear from me again soon.

As always, thanks for reading. Vote if you think it deserves it, comments always appreciated.