Chapter 1

I must have really been out of it the night before, as I didn’t recall what happened to me, other than meeting that luscious blonde at the bar and hitting it off with her. What exactly she was doing alone was beyond me, but I remembered that she admitted to being married. I didn’t seem to mind her marital status, at least, but then again, why would I? I wasn’t her pastor, her confessor, her rabbi, or whatever. It wasn’t my job to counsel married spouses or safeguard a marriage that might already have issues (or might not). If she wanted to stray from her wedding vows, as I saw it, that was no fault of mine, even if she did so with me.

Well, she wasn’t with me when I awoke, so maybe I dreamed it all, I thought, as I was certainly horny enough last night. I had a high school reunion to attend and I was the only bachelor of the class, though I had certainly been laid enough between various girlfriends, booty calls, flings, etc. I hadn’t exactly been faithful to any of my women, either, but again, I just never saw the point of it all. The monogamy deal seemed to me nothing but an exercise in deliberately frustrating oneself and others as some kind of bizarre and completely unnecessary sacrifice for the sake of love. This brought to mind something that the blonde had told me and it jived with everything that I had ever really believed about affairs, romance, relationships, marriage, etc.

“Love was never meant to be so cruel. It’s not about forsaking others. It’s about embracing each other. Whoever wanted to make people choose between lovers was a sadist,” the blonde crystallized what I had always known, deep down, about love and sex: it was never meant to be exclusive.

The events were still a haze, but recalling those words, I now realized that it was no drunken fantasy. I had really taken this ravishing fair-haired beauty to my hotel suite and bed, enjoyed her company and her body as she had apparently enjoyed mine, and passionately bonded with her in ways that were hard to describe. One thing was sure: she was no virgin, though she reminded me a lot of Kimberly Perry from the Band Perry in that one song and video “If I Die Young.” Well, that is, she reminded me of her in appearance. She had a far more carnal attitude than Kimberly did, though, thankfully.

The blonde lady was elegant, intelligent, charming, opinionated, and very ardent, to say the least, and yet she was gone in the morning. I couldn’t quite grasp why she left me before I could wake up, unless she feared her husband’s wrath or something. I wondered if he had any idea of what kind of woman his wife he really was. In any case, I felt a greater confidence that I had done the right thing by staying single and avoiding marriage, at least the form that it took these days, all full of chivalry, monogamy, and other absurdities. I didn’t mind courtesy, but people feeling entitled to special treatment while claiming equality was the worst sort of hypocrisy in my book.

That was when I noticed the scroll. It had a very strange form of writing on it, definitely not in English, and since I hadn’t learned whatever dialect this was, I was very confused as to what the blonde wanted to tell me. I saw red lipstick on the signature, so for fun, I brought it to my lips, and that was when I felt a chill go up my spine. The next thing that I knew, a new infusion of power or strength, like an electrical charge or current, shot through my body, through my veins, through my nerves, bones, muscles, cartilage, etc. I felt more awake, more alert, than ever, and my hangover was gone for good.

This was when I looked at the scroll again and could actually understand the words on it. They were in an ancient dialect of Greek, of course, but what they claimed was truly astonishing.

Dear Phil

If you’re reading this, then I have left you already. It was a great tryst and I hope to do it again, but we can’t have a regular, long-term relationship or anything like that. It just wouldn’t work, not with you being a mortal man and me being, well, me. You’ll understand well enough, in fact, when I elaborate. What I have done for you is what needed to be done. I have given you the gift that I give to a handful of mortals in history, that of my kiss. Aphrodite’s Kiss. If you kissed the lipstick on this note, you have it and can now read my words, whereas before neither was true.

You see, my dear young man, yes, I know that you see yourself as older, but to an immortal goddess, well, you’re still very young ... I am Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, Beauty, and, well, Sex. I was called Venus by the Romans, but Aphrodite is both truer to my name and to my nature. This comes to the next matter, and I know that it has always been a sore spot for you, because I know you like the back of my hand, even though you don’t know me. You see, my dear Phil, I am also your mother. Yes, that’s right. You, my dear boy, are a son of Aphrodite, just like Aeneas. I conceived you, bare you, and then gave you to your father to raise. If you ever wondered why you had a single dad for a while, that was it.

No, your father never knew the full truth. I couldn’t explain it to him. He just wouldn’t understand. But you get it now, don’t you? It’s not that I didn’t wish to raise you, it’s that I had to sacrifice motherhood for the greater good, sad to say. This wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. I’m made to breed, but not to nurture. I’m made to make many men and women happy and spread joy and love and lust, you get the idea, but not to attend PTA meetings and Little League and play dates. I’m just not very domesticated, I’m afraid.

In any case, I adore you and care very much for you, and given that I don’t have to worry about any genetic consequences, I feel the urge to make sweet love to you ... and also to fuck you. I must also give you the ability that comes with the Kiss, my Kiss. This gift will bless you with a special bond with every person that you kiss on the mouth, men and women alike. It doesn’t matter who else they are with at any given point. They may or may not continue those other relationships, and naturally I hope that they do, as sharing is best, but they will permanently crave and ache to serve you, ahead of everyone else. These people will adore and admire you, lust for you, bond with you, pleasure you, and even live at your beck and call. They will be your playthings, your personal cum-sluts, your sex toys, if you will.

Yes, I know that this goes against everything that you were taught or raised to believe, but trust me, this is for the best. Free will is never more than a half-truth at best, and it has been abused by mortals in any case. It has been corrupted by society’s perverse moral code and laws, so mortals need to be released and liberated from both free will and the dictates of the community which supersede it. It’s for their own good.

Love, Aphrodite, aka Mom

P.S. I’m pregnant to you now, so make sure that you make one of your new sluts your wife. The baby will need a stepmother. None of the others will mind and your blushing bride will never reproach you about other women. She’ll be far too enthralled by you to even consider it.

I shook my head in disbelief, unable to quite grasp what to think or say about this situation. How often does one find out that one’s mother is an immortal goddess, or that one slept with his own mother, and thus slept with, and impregnated an immortal goddess? For that matter, how often does one find out that one’s mother/goddess/lover has given one a gift of some kind that will take effect every time that you kiss someone? I had the high school reunion going on that night, so there was plenty of opportunity to possibly exploit my new advantage.