Service with a Smile Ch. 05byHarveyMarcus©
The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further!
This story is for entertainment only. It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction. The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact. I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here. The characters in the story are entirely fictional. You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen.
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.
* * * * * * * * * *
So far: Mr. Marcus's wife, Harriett, arranged for a local girl, Inga, to perform a ministry once a week while she's away. Despite the fact that Inga's mother, Dr. Crumholtz, demanded Mr. Marcus keep his hands off her daughter, he's had some very close calls. In an attempted to cure Mr. Marcus's supposed breast fetish, Dr. Crumholtz accidentally promoted a sexual encounter between him and Inga's best friend, Norma. Now Dr. Crumholtz, the barrier between Mr. Marcus and Inga, has returned, to verify her cure.
* * * * * * * * * *
I walked slowly across the street to my house, to engage Dr. Crumholtz. Confront was more like it. Her stern demeanor and demanding rules had kept me and her daughter apart. Did she and I have an appointment? Had she decided to turn me in to the authorities for my accidental fornication with Norma?
She spoke first. "Good day, Mr. Marcus. I'm here for your check-up."
Oh, yeah, she'd mentioned that, back when she'd apologized for putting me in a position to have intercourse with Norma. Guess I was safe on that count, at least for now.
"So how does this work?" I opened the front door. She followed me into the living room. Normally, I would have kicked off my shoes, but I didn't want Doc to get the wrong idea. "You want me to prove that large breasts don't turn me on, right?" All size breasts turn me on. My mind raced as I tried to think of a way out.
"Correct. Perhaps you could play the relevant portions of that smut tape my daughter witnessed?" she said.
"Nope. Long gone in the trash. Our counseling session convinced me to get rid of my porn collection." All of it was still safely stored in the attic, but that was none of Doc Crumholtz's business. Oh yeah, her first name was Stephanie.
"Well then, perhaps a well-endowed neighbor?"
Huh? I pointed to the general direction of my picture window. "Are you suggesting I call one of the women in this neighbor to come by and drop their top so you can see if I get an erection? You must be out of your mind!" I'd never seen Joy's breasts, even after fucking her. Probably bigger than her daughters.
Then it struck me. Perhaps I could turn the tables, embarrass her and end this. "Would you do it? Undress and show me your tits?"
Stephanie stammered and turned red.
"That's a fine idea," I continued. "Open your blouse and we'll see if that gets me up."
"I will not!" She crossed her arms. Did she know that made a shelf for her tits, now thrust forward?
"Then you won't get your check-up, because I'm not going to humiliate a friend and neighbor just to satisfy some morbid curiosity-"
"It is not curiosity. It is your mental health we're talking about. You were a sick man. Maybe you still are." She fingered the buttons on her dress. "Oh, all right. It seems I have no choice."
Damn it! Stephanie didn't take the bait. And the look on her face was not one of resignation but anticipation. "Hang on. Let's not do this here." I pointed to the large picture window. If this was really going to happen, then my neighbor Joy, her movers and the incidental passerby weren't welcome as observers. "Let's go upstairs."
I went first, to avoid watching her swinging ass that might get me going. After Inga's blowjob and my Joy-full fuck, my dick would stay wilted, but only for so long. "In here." I pointed to the bedroom.
I directed her to sit on the bed while I stood, giving her a straight-on look at the same organ she held while attempting to prevent me from fucking Norma. "Okay, show 'em if you got 'em."
Soon, Stephanie's bra-encased breasts were in sight, her dress collapsed around her waist. I conjured up thoughts to keep myself from getting excited. Walking on broken bottles. My arm as a punching bag for the neighborhood bully. Banging my elbow on a granite countertop. All real-life experiences. Anything to divert my mind from the half-clothed woman in my bedroom.
"All right, let me see if you're affected," she said.
I unbuckled and unzipped, letting my pants fall to the floor. I slid my jockeys down. My prick hung there, worn out but looking normal.
"Removing your bra would be a better test, wouldn't it?"
Stephanie stared at my dick. "Oh, all right." She reached behind and unclasped the garment. She tugged it off and let it drop to the floor. Her tits were a bit saggy but succulent nevertheless.
My mind escalated more torture scenarios. A paper cut plunged into a bowl of salt. Getting kicked in the balls. The pretend pain stories were working. Stephanie sat there, staring at my lip dick, speechless. What was she waiting for? An erection? Perhaps a proposition? After all, she was naked from the waist up. "So, now what?"
My comment startled her. Her head lifted. Her eyes were glassy, moist. "You seem to have conquered your affliction. Another success." She hesitated, then leaned over to fetch her bra. Her tits swung from her torso.
Given what Inga had told me about her father not reacting to his daughter's nakedness, I'd guessed Mr. Crumholtz was suffering from an erectile disorder. Maybe I should recommend good old Dr. Marcus, or better yet, his daughter BJ. But if Mr. Crumholtz had a problem, it may have been a while since Stephanie had been stimulated. She seemed to be fascinated with my penis during my Norma session. Well, perhaps interested is a better term. "Hang on. I didn't get it up. How do you know that's not my permanent condition?" The question was too logical to be ignored. And if she was interested in something more, this gave her the opening.
"I don't believe you have that problem. I witnessed you with Norma at my office, remember?" She licked her lips, never taking her eyes off my dick.
"But you don't know for sure, do you? I might have contracted some condition that prevents me from getting erect." I was referring to her husband's situation.
She stroked her jaw. "I see your point. What do you suggest?"
"You'll need to see that I can get an erection, so that you'll know it's in working order. Maybe if you stood up-"
She did. The dress stalled on her waist, so she pulled the garment to the side. Stephanie stood naked except for her full-sized panties covering her loins.
Despite all of the exercise, my prick was inflating. Stephanie was mesmerized by the slow growth. Suddenly, she plopped back onto the bed, and brought her hands to her face. Small whimpering sounds escaped from behind the barrier.
My penis was fatter but not yet pointing. I closed the gap between us, so close that my dick was directly in front of her face. She would have seen it, up close, if she hadn't been playing peek-a-boo. "Stephanie?"
She didn't respond. I sat down next to her and touched her shoulder. She twisted away.
"What's the matter?" I slipped my arm around her, pulling her closer. It wasn't meant to be sexual, only supportive.
Why would she say such a thing? "No you're not."
She leaned against me. I shortened my reach and rubbed her back.
"My marriage is a joke, my practice is a joke, and I'm sitting here naked in a patient's bedroom, wishing for him to pay attention to me. In all the wrong ways."
I knew about her deficient husband, but perhaps there was more. The only example I'd seen of her professional approach was misguided. And she wasn't completely naked. There was still the matter of her panties. But that was easily corrected.
"Now, now, you're under a lot of stress. It must be difficult, trying to raise Inga in a dangerous world." I kept rubbing her back, as I placed my other hand on her knee, cautiously.
Stephanie's breathing was jagged. "I want so much for her."
I wanted Inga so much, but no chance with Stephanie around. "You're doing a fine job. Maybe you need something." I ran my fingertips up and down her thigh. Her legs were pressed firmly together. "Support."
"I suppose so."
"Of course you do. You need to feel loved. Cared for."
She sighed. "Loved. Fat chance."
My dick was fat. She relinquished some of the pressure on her legs, but I didn't dare do anything to spook her, so I took no advantage. "You're a person with feelings."
She raised her head. Our eyes met. "I have feelings." She took a deep breath. "I have needs."
Her thighs parted, allowing my fingers to stroke the inside of her thigh, stopping short of her panties. "Reasonable needs. Rational needs. Everyone does."
"You're right. Everyone has needs." Her eyes glanced down. Her mouth opened at the sight of my erection. "It works."
I dragged my fingers higher, barely brushing the crotch of her panties. She twitched. On the next pass, I ran the back of my hand firmly against her crotch. One of her hands fell into my lap and took hold of my penis. Familiar territory. She stroked my cock. Maybe subconsciously, but who cared? I cupped her mound but didn't advance into her panties. That would be too fast.
She stood, pulling away from my caresses. With a quick bend, she dropped her panties, then sat back down. Her hand groped for my prick. I resumed rubbing her back and slid my hand between her legs. This time, I held her bare cunt in the palm of my hand.
"Oooh, Mr. Marcus."
Our mutual almost masturbation was okay, but I wanted to go all the way with Stephanie. Her awareness of my porn collection and my sexual liaison with Norma needed to be balanced. Besides, I'd kept off Inga despite multiple opportunities. Stephanie owed me, and I was going to collect.
Except she rolled away, laying face down on the bed, head cradled by folded arms.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
Her reply was muffled by the blankets. "This is so wrong. I can't do this. Please, leave me alone."
No way in hell! I straddled her body, my dick flailing. I resumed a backrub, long firm strokes. "Listen, sex is a natural part of life. If your husband can't perform, that shouldn't mean -"
She turned to the side. Her hanging breasts were in profile. "How do you know that?"
"Inga tells the truth. Always. To everybody."
Her face showed a thoughtful expression, as if she was cataloging all the private parts of her life Inga had shared, with me and others. "It's all my fault." She fell back to the bed, her head to the side. "He's dysfunctional because of me."
I didn't get the cause and effect. Stephanie was obviously sexy enough for me to get excited, but then again, it doesn't take much for me to get a hard on. Most times. "I don't believe that, and neither should you. Are you enjoying the massage?"
"Oh yes. You're pulling all the tension from my body."
It was getting time for me to put something back. I changed my massage location, from her back to her buttocks. My stoke started on her upper thigh, then onto her ass cheeks.
"Oh, that feels even better."
Of course. It was closer to her pussy, a more sensitive area. After a few minutes, Stephanie was raising her hips to my stoke. There it was, hanging there, her cunt. Furry and pungent. Stephanie reeked of sex. I moved closer, spreading her legs, sliding my thighs under hers, so she couldn't lower her hips. I resumed a back rub, but along the sides of her torso, teasing at the sides of her rib cage.
A thought clicked. "Do you think Norma needed sex?" I asked.
Stepanie's voice returned to her professional tone despite my groping. "Perhaps, in her judgment, but she doesn't have the wisdom of age."
"Like we do right?" I had Stephanie on her knees, ass raised, thighs apart.
My prick rubbed up and back through Stephanie's hairy gash. "As adults, we could make that decision more clearly than someone whose hormones were in high gear."
"Absolutely. What are you doing down there?"
I feigned ignorance. "Where? Oh, incidental contact. You're enjoying the massage, right?"
Time to take Stephanie back to clinical. "So why do you think she believed she needed sex?"
"There could be many reasons. Peer pressure. Hormones."
"Really?" I aimed my prick at her pussy, tilting my hips properly.
"Oh yes, hormones. They lay there, under the surface. Sneaky devils." She glanced back. "You're in a funny position."
There was nothing funny about it. I was poised to enter her pussy. All it would take is a slight shift, by either of us. "And then what? The hormones, I mean."
"Oh yes. Well, they're always present in the body, in reasonable amounts. But sexual stimulus -"
I reached under and grasped her hanging tits in my hands.
"You were saying about stimulus?" I palpated her tit masses, and dragged fingers deliberately across her nipples.
Her breathing was heavier. "Sexual stimulus causes the hormones to multiply. They flow through the body-"
I leaned forward, impaling her on the tip of my cock. "In the body?"
"Oh God. Where was I? Oh yes. They flow through the body, carried by the blood stream. Physiological changes occur."
"Like what?" I pulled at her nipples.
"Uhhhhhh. Engorgement, for one." She leaned back. "Oh yes. Physiological inflation."
Our groins moved together. Finally, activityon her part! She was fucking me back. "So maybe Norma was overcome by her hormones. Doing things she wouldn't normally do."
Stephanie grunted. "Perhaps. Oh God. I haven't felt a good stiff penis inside me in, oh God, I don't know how long."
I bucked, driving my prick deeper. Stephanie collapsed on the bed, my hands trapped under her tits. I humped against her butt.
"Oh God, why are you doing this to me?"
With her, not to her. "Think of it as a ministry."
She turned her head to the side. "A what?"
"A ministry, just like Inga did for me." Oops, bad analogy.
Stephanie's voice hardened, and her muscles trapped me. "You promised-"
"No, no, I meant, you need someone to tend to your needs. Ours were household, but yours are sexual."
"God forgive me, but they are."
I rode her hard. She moaned into the pillow, muffling screams of what I hoped were pleasure. But it didn't really matter. She was a willing participant, even if I was too much for her to handle.
She climbed onto her knees and threw me off. Huh?
I want to see you fuck me. Face to face." She laid back and spread her legs. Penetration was easier, but not so deep. I couldn't hold myself above her and rub her tits, which flopped around on her chest. I strained to the depths of her pussy, over and over. Then, a few short thrusts, at the opening, followed by more long strokes.
"Even at his best, Leonard was never skilled."
At sex? Limp Leonard the Loser. Couldn't keep Stephanie satisfied.
I increased the speed of our fucking. Stephanie unsuccessfully tried to throw her legs around my waist, but either it was too thick or her legs were too short.
"Oh God. Oh God. Forgive me, but this is glorious! Mr. Marcus, there's nothing wrong with you, nothing at all!"
I was on the verge of a cum explosion. Just a few more strokes, and Stephanie would get my gift.
"Oh! Oh!" Stephanie's eyes shot to the side. "Oh my God!"
I tilted to look. Inga stood in the doorway, wearing shorts and a tank top. She looked older. Bingo - she was wearing make-up, much too much.
"Mama! How could you?" Inga stormed over to the bed, arms waving.
Stephanie shoved me off her belly. "Darling, I can explain."
One glance at Inga's tits, pointed hills under her top, and I shot my load, once, twice. The first strand flew through the air, as if in slow motion, and splattered on Inga's face.
"Uhhhhhh!" Inga ran from the room.
"Wait for me downstairs," Stephanie hollered. "See what you've done!"
"Me?" I shrugged. "You're the one who wanted to check up on me. I just went along for the ride." Although she was the one who'd been ridden.
Stephanie dressed in a hurry and scurried downstairs. The bedroom reeked of sex. That could wait. I slid on a pair of jogging shorts for modesty, and descended the stairs.
The mother and daughter were arguing, presumably about me, or sex, or what they would be having for dinner.
Inga's finger pointed at me. "You let him have sex with my best friend, and then you have sex with him, all the while insisting that I be your good little girl."
"That's right. I don't want you to be soiled by such depravity," replied Stephanie.
"Even though you wallow in it? And what about Dada? Cheating on him is good behavior?" Inga folded her arms and glared.
"Your father and I have, um, a particular situation-"
"Right! He can't get it up!"
Stephanie gasped. "Inga!"
Her daughter approached her mother and put her hands on Stephanie's shoulders. "I just want to know that I'm attractive. That men like me. Is that so bad?"
"But you are attractive!" said Stephanie.
Inga recrossed her arms. "You have to say that. You're my mother."
Stephanie turned to me. "Tell her she's pretty. Please."
I didn't need to be begged. "Inga, you're a beautiful woman."
Inga turned her back. "Just words."
Stephanie tried to hug her daughter, but Inga writhed away.
"Let Mr. Marcus hug me," Inga said.
Stephanie hesitated. "Oh, all right. It's just a hug." She waved me on.
I put my arms around Inga, enveloping her petite body. It felt too good.
"If Mr. Marcus through I was pretty, he'd kiss me," Inga challenged.
"Oh no! No kissing."
Stephanie had seen this slippery slope before, with me and Norma. It led to fucking, something she regretted ever since. Certainly she wouldn't let the same thing happen with her daughter.
"You mean none of this?" Inga wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled herself up, banging her face into mine. It was kiss of sorts, more like a head butt on the lips. All of her weight dragged on my neck.
I leaned back to correct our shared center of gravity.
"Inga, get off him!" shouted Stephanie. To me, she directed, "Don't let her fall."
I put my hands under Inga's ass cheeks. The material was soft and smooth. I had to get a grip to hang on. At least, that was the excuse my brain invented.
"I want Mr. Marcus to be my first lover, like he was for Norma." Inga tried to lift one leg, then the other, to wrap herself around me. "Please, Mama."
Every movement threatened our balance. My hands repositioned lower as Inga's shorts slid higher. My fingertips were near Inga's crotch. Through the picture window, I saw a cab pull up. Harriett! "My wife's home." I reluctantly yanked Inga's arms from around my neck and ran upstairs. I grabbed an aerosol odor remover and sprayed around the bedroom. Despite years without, Harriett would remember the smell of sex.
When I jogged back down, Harriett stood with sour expression. She didn't like guests, and she didn't like surprises. Stephanie and Harriett were finishing a handshake. It was Inga's turn.
Harriett strained to be polite. "Nice to meet you. Is there a problem?"
Nice to know Harriett is on my side.
"No, just finishing the exit interview," said Stephanie. "Inga has completed her ministry, and her teachers need a report.
"I hope Harvey wasn't too rough on you," said Harriett.
Inga bit her lip. Stephanie smoothed the front of her dress. Harriett shepherded them towards the door. Mother and daughter looked over their shoulders, as they were escorted out. What was Harriett's hurry?