Just The MessengerbyHarveyMarcus©
Don't Fuck Me; I'm Just The Messenger
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.
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A Harvey Marcus Retrospective: Don't Fuck Me; I'm Just The Messenger
In a sudden delusion caused by two simultaneous synapses crossing each other, I thought, "Gee, wouldn't it be keen to tell the story of how I, Harvey Marcus, got started with all of this screwing around. I mean, it didn't just happen out of nothing. Everything has a cause, a spark, an ignition. So, here's another Official Retrospective, detailing how I involuntarily got sucked into a campaign of accidental sex with all of the world's eighteen-year and older females.
Episodes One and Two found me seduced by two different babysitters. Episode Three involved a stranger, while Episode Four partnered me with a coworker.
This jumps ahead to my Fifth Episode, bringing Mr. Marcus to a new threshold: sex with a family member. Relatively speaking, Mr. Marcus's won't-power (or willpower) has been brutally pummeled by the previous four encounters (or en-cunt-ers). Will he hold the line against incest?
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My wife Harriett has an older brother named Arnold. The last time I saw Arnold and his family was at an ice skating exhibition featuring his adopted daughter, Joanie, and three hundred other kids. I had to give her credit. - She didn't fall even once. However, at the speed she skated, I could have polished off a fat novel in the time it took her and her teammates to enter the rink, perform their number and skate to the exit.
Anyway, Arnold's mother-in-law, no relation to us, passed away but curiously included Arnold's sister, my wife Harriett, in her will. I didn't remember even meeting the woman, although I don't attend every family gathering. Arnold's wife Annette was never fond of Harriett, especially after Harriett got pregnant. After years of trying and failing, followed by expensive and unsuccessful procedures, they were forced to adopt.
I wasn't on the call but a direct quote of Annette by Harriett afterwards made it clear Annette was furious that "some nobody was going to profit by her mother's death." Harriett didn't want her brother to suffer any more than he already had at Annette's hand (or mouth), so she called Annette back and offered to work things out. They came to an agreement that involved a reduced amount from what the will stated, Harriett reimbursing Annette $500 for a plane ticket and signing a release against any other claims or remuneration. Sounded wacky, but this was Harriett's business, not mine. Harriett wouldn't listen when I told her to hold out for the entire amount, in excess of $20,000. The worst part was, Harriett recruited me as the messenger boy without asking. I swallowed hard when Harriett handed me an envelope containing $500 in cash. Where did she get that kind of money? Cash was one of Annette's requirements. Another was no electronic documents, instead specifically no-acid paper. I was to deliver the cash and get the release document from Annette. Sounded simple, but these things never are. Plus, I didn't like Harriett's expectation that she could give me chores like this and expect me to do them without complaint.
I flew out to Kansas City that evening and rented the cheapest subcompact Buck Dollar Rentals had. It was a real beater whose engine felt like it was powered by rubber bands. Fortunately, Arnold and Annette's house was downhill from the airport.
The lights were off inside, with no outside illumination. Were they asleep? I rang the bell. No answer. While I stood contemplating my next move, and wondering if I'd get mugged for the lump of cash in my jacket pocket, a convertible pulled into the driveway and opened the garage. I walked around to the front of the open garage only to see a figure exiting the car. A young woman leapt out and headed straight for a door into the house. Too young to be Annette. Must be Joanie. She'd really grown up. I started to say something but the noise of the motor closing the garage door drown out my stuttered introduction.
Knowing that someone was home, I rang the bell again. Joanie answered, eyes red and puffy. Her tan was extraordinary. Not an inch of white visible around her halter-top or past the hem of her short skirt. Her hair, frizzy and full, was tied into a puffy ponytail in back. "What do you want?"
My body was framed by the doorway. "Is your mother home?"
"No. Go away." She shoved at the door and stalked away to the left, to the living room if memory served. My foot prevented the door from slamming in my face. Her ponytail was a plume. If she stood on her head, she would have been a human dust mop. And, her panties would be on display. God, why does my mind go there so easily? Maybe it was the short skirt and the way it swooshed as her hips swayed.
She didn't stop me from following her. Maybe she thought the door slam had been sufficient. An envelope on the wrought iron entry table was addressed to Harriett Marcus. It contained the papers I'd come for. I could have left my envelope with $500 and taken the legal papers and that would have been that. Mission accomplished. But I hadn't seen or talked to Joanie for six or seven years. I viewed it as a training opportunity to prepare me when Annie got older. I left Harriett's envelope in place. "I need to see her."
Joanie spun, the hem of her short skirt flirting with her waist. "You've got your nerve, coming to our house. Where to you normally meet, anyway? Day's Inn? Motel Six?"
What was this about a motel? Did Joanie think I met her mother at motels? Where did that come from? Annette barely tolerated my presence. There's no way she'd get involved with me, especially some sleazy relationship. All I had to do was take the envelope, leave Harriett's payment and go. But something odd was going on here. Getting accused of a sexual relationship I wasn't having was novel. It made me curious. Like a cat, but with only one life. "I'm just here to get a release."
She continued her rant. "I bet you are. You men are all alike."
I'd chosen my words badly. "You have this all wrong."
"Yeah sure. I'm not stupid. I know Mom's been cheating on Dad for a while. But none of Mom's johns have ever come to the house."
If Joanie was correct, supposedly faithful Annette was a loose woman. I decided to let the mistaken impression go on a bit longer. "This is where she told me to meet her."
"That's impossible, because she's out with my dad, and she wouldn't want him to see you. God, you may be a stud, but you're really confused. Now get the hell out of here before they get back from the relatives." She grabbed her head with her hands. Her blouse buttons were in the wrong holes. "God, how could she schedule a fucking session when Gamma isn't cold yet? What a bitch!"
I dragged my attention from the gaps in her blouse. "When will she-"
"Make good? Hell if I know. You men. You get all stiff and tell us it will be wonderful and then. And then." Joanie chocked up. "You make me sick". She pointed at the door as she ran upstairs crying.
I plopped down on he soda. What was Joanie's problem? I sat in the dimly lit living room. About fifteen minutes later Joanie came prancing downstairs in a towel. Her wet hair told me she'd showered. Uncrossing my legs caught her attention. She held the towel close. "Shit. Are you still here? I told you to leave." Sharp tan lines across her shoulders told me that she'd stayed with the same skimpy bathing suit all summer. She hiked the towel up to prevent exposing her chest but that only raised it higher on her thighs. She couldn't have it both ways. "I told you, Mom's not here, and she and Dad will be back any moment. Beat it!"
"That doesn't change the fact that she scheduled this. I'm here to do business."
"Is that what you call it? And run the risk of running into my father? You're so stupid."
"I know your dad. He's-"
"Oh great. Now Mom's fucking Dad's friends. What do you, work together or something? Shit, what if he finds out? Christ!"
Time to straighten Joanie out. "He doesn't know because your mother-"
"Keeps it hidden. No duh. She must have thought Dad wouldn't be here. Or me for that matter. And I wouldn't have been except for-" She began to breathe erratically. Her towel shifted with each inhale. The tears resumed. She slumped into the far end of the sofa. The towel was barely keeping her privates covered. Which meant there was a lot of bare skin. Which meant I was erect.
Even though I'd had sex with two of Annie's babysitters, a stranger in a gynecologist's office and a co-worker, there was no way I'd have sex with a family member. A simple, firm barrier to behavior. The family line I wouldn't cross. "Care to talk about it?" I could still provide advice, if Joanie needed some.
"What's wrong with me anyway?" she asked.
Nothing that I could see. "Beats me. I don't know about your grades in school, but you look marvelous-"
She raised her chin. "Really?"
"Absolutely." I made eye contact so she knew I was being honest.
She paused before speaking. "So how much money did you bring Mom?"
She thinks her mother gets money for sex? I wouldn't have sex with Annette if she paid me! Under Joanie's assumption, a fair question. "$500."
"Really? What does she do for $500?"
I glanced at the envelope in the entry. "Like I said, I get a release-"
"So she gets you off? $500 is too much for a handjob or blowjob. She must fuck you. Right? Nah, that would be too cheap."
I'd heard the amount of Harriett's inheritance was about $20,000. But she was settling for five percent, or a grand. "Yes, I'm getting fucked."
"$500 huh? You want to try somebody younger?"
This game had gone far enough. My rule shouted at me. I blurted out an answer. "No thanks."
"What, I'm not good enough? Just because I can't- don't you think I'm worth $500?"
What was Joanie's problem? Did she really just offer herself to me for money? My 'no family rule was unambiguous. "I'm sure you'd be terrific and worth every penny, but-"
Joanie didn't give up. "I know Mom's tits are bigger but they sag. Mine aren't bad." She pulled the towel down to expose the tops of her breasts, above the nipples. She was right. Her breasts weren't bad at all. Tanning with the same bathing suit had left well-defined pizza-slice shaped white areas that accentuated her breasts' shape.
"I really can't -"
"Fuck a young women? But you came here to screw Mom, right?"
This was a critical choice. I hadn't come all this way for sex. I analyzed my situation. Joanie was family, my niece. I decided she was bluffing. Sex with an older man, a stranger? Preposterous. The best defense was a good offense. "First I'm shit because you think I'm here to have sex with your mother. Now you make the same offer as her substitute. Why the sudden change of heart?"
"I just back from a horrid date when you showed up. Kind of like fate. Do you believe in fate?"
I wondered if my destiny was scoring with hot but vulnerable young women. "Sometimes."
"You can't believe sometimes. Either you do or you don't. See, I was scheduled to have sex with Greg tonight."
Greg was a lucky guy. "No one schedules sex." Harriett and I didn't, but she'd given it up completely. And my previous sexual episodes had happened at random.
"We did. We set the date a year ago, when we figured we'd be ready. I'd promised myself and I'd promised him. On the top floor of the college parking lot building. Under the stars. Romantic, huh?"
"You waited to have sex for a year? Amazing. So how was it?"
"He just about drilled me a third hole. Bastard. It wasn't pleasant at all. And here you are, ready to do Mom but not me. You're a shithead, just like Greg."
'You've got me all wrong." I was ready to tell her I was her uncle. "I'm really a nice guy, once you get to know me."
"Not like Greg?"
"I don't believe so."
She dipped her head, looking up at me. "So how do you like your women?"
I gave her a puzzled expression, not one of my most attractive. "Huh?"
"You know, heftier and older like Mom or younger and thinner? Like me?"
"Don't be silly." She wasn't being silly, of course. Just horny.
"What's silly about having sex with me? Greg didn't satisfy me and Mom isn't here for you. Maybe we're supposed to be here alone. Those things happen."
"I'm sure they do." Not. "But not to us."
"Why not? Check out my tits before you decide." She let the towel slide.
"No!" I grabbed the edge and tugged it back up. That put my hand against her chest.
"If you want to feel them, that's okay. Greg skipped foreplay and went straight to assault."
Greg was an idiot. Joanie was a horny guy's playground, not someone to be fucked and dumped. I pulled my hand back. "We shouldn't."
"I'm giving you permission, for Pete's sake. I waited a year to get laid and Greg fucked up." She giggled at her own joke. "At least keep me company. I don't want to be alone and I'm guessing you don't either. Maybe you won't let me substitute for my mother, but that doesn't mean we can't hang out."
My eight-inch cock hanging out of my pants was just the thing I needed to avoid. "Okay, I'll stay and we can talk."
"I should probably put some clothes on, huh?"
Joanie leapt off the sofa holding onto the failing towel. Long expanses of bare skin from rib to toe were titillating. And that didn't count the flash of a breast profile. She flew up the stairs two at a time. Her twin ass cheeks bounced. The dark area between her thighs was indistinct but my brain knew what has hidden there. So did my dick.
After a minute of silence, her voice came from the top of the stairs. "Come on up."
I hadn't been in the house maybe twice before. I made my way cautiously. Did she have a gun, ready to kill her mother's lover? Worse yet, maybe she was naked. I peeked into the first bedroom. Looked like it belonged to a young woman. Posters and frills. She'd put on the same outfit she'd worn when I first saw her that night, white halter-top and short blue skirt. She'd removed the tie that kept her wild head full of frizzy hair in check. It sprouted like a brunette aura around her face. "Good, you're still here."
"Where would I go?" I'd given no thought to using her absence to make an exit, taking Harriett's documents and leaving the money. The opportunity to connect with my niece pulled too strong. I just had to avoid anything physical. We were both standing, awkward at best. "So, what do you want to talk about?"
"What is sex supposed to be like?" She stood, hands behind her back, pushing her chest forward. She'd skipped a bra, her nipples evident under the thin fabric.
I cleared my throat. "Its intimate and exciting and reckless and -"
"Can you show me how it's supposed to be done? I was expecting to have sex tonight, just with a different partner."
"We were just going to talk, remember?" My whole body stiffened, not just my cock. "You don't really know what you're asking."
Her body heat raised the temperature in the room. At least that's why I thought I was sweating. She plopped down on her bed and patted the area next to her. "I figure you're getting the better end of the deal, me instead of my mother. That's trading up, right?" She didn't have to say that I was not a young buck like Greg. And she didn't. Her eyes were wide in anticipation. "I gave up so many opportunities last year. Nice guys, handsome, hung. But I waited for Greg. Don't make me beg."
I didn't want to make her at all, except I did. My brain searched frantically for excuses. She was my niece. I'd made family the boundary. While I simultaneously mulled the opportunity, struggled to identify justifications and considered viable excuses, Joanie untied the halter behind her neck. Raising her arms thrust her tits out. As the halter dropped, pizza-slice-shaped white patches on cone-shaped breasts came into view. In the middle of each, like lumps of sausage, her pointy nipples. God, they were sexy.
"You have a great tan." My voice was raspy from a dry throat. She couldn't mean what she said. She wanted sex with a stranger? I felt my feet slipping out from under me. No, no slippery slope this time.
"My friend Veronica said her first time was with a older guy. That he was gentle. Not like Greg. Would you be gentle?"
"Yes," I sighed. "If we had sex, but were not going to."
"I don't understand. You were going to have sex with Mom." Her head drooped. I'd disappointed her, maybe even insulted her. "I guess it's okay if you don't want to. But you can still show me what I did wrong."
She and Greg lacked experience. It was clear Greg also lacked technique. "You just need a few tits, uh tips."
She got up and pushed me onto the bed. I sat up. Her ass was on my thighs before I could react. The skirt rode up exposing just about everything. "This was how Greg and I sat."
"You shouldn't be on my lap." I fixated on her exposed breasts. I needed her off my lap before she felt-
"Oh my god. Is that all you? She hugged me, my face nestled between her young tits. This was completely erotic. She smelled fresh and new. Her crotch lifted and made a one point landing on mine. "You are up for this, you liar. I wasn't sure with your hesitating and all. Your teasing has gotten me even hotter."
"I'm not teasing."
"Sure." She ground her crotch against mine. "Ooh, you're really hard. Say, I don't even know your name."
"That's funny. I have an uncle named-" Her eyes bugged out. Her jaw dropped. "Uncle Harvey?" I didn't have to nod. She encircled me with her arms. Her breasts dug into my chest. She squatted harder against my groin. Her attention kept me excited. She planted a wet smooch on cheek, then the other, and finally on my lips. "I haven't seen you in years. Why don't you come and visit?"
I wanted desperately avoiding the cumming. "Your mother doesn't care to see us."
"Don't take it personal. She hates everybody, even Daddy. Oh my god. I told you she's been cheating. You're not going to tell, are you?"
I shook my head.
"You're not Momma's lover. No way!" She kissed me again harder. Had she and Greg kissed? "So why did you come?"
There was that word again. Continued pressure of her crotch on my dick might just cause me to spurt. "Your grandmother left Harriett money."
Joanie smile wilted. Were her eyes tearing? "Gamma had a full life." Joanie snarfed back a sob. "She always had nice things to say about Aunt Harriett. Once Gamma told me that Aunt Harriett and Daddy would gave been the perfect couple except they were brother and sister. That's illegal. Right?"
"Absolutely." And by my self-imposed rule, sleeping with a family member was also not allowed. I prayed she'd get off my lap.
"You've always liked me. I remember you brought me flowers to my ice shows."
It was almost impossible to keep my eyes from staring at her perky two-tone tits. "You remembered."
"This is perfect. I don't need Greg, and I don't have to go find some stranger to teach me about sex. You can to it. Oh God! And here I was, trying to seduce you for money! Oh I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"