My wife Harriett has an older brother named Arnold married to a unsocial woman named Annette. 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, Annette's mother and 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.
Annette was never fond of Harriett especially after Harriett got pregnant. After years of trying and failing, followed by expensive and unsuccessful procedures, Arnold and Annette were forced to adopt. Joanie was the lucky kid.
Harriett learned about being a beneficiary in a call from Annette. 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 my (her) mother's death."
Harriett wouldn't listen when I told her to hold out for the entire amount, about $20,000. She didn't want her brother to suffer any more than he already had at Annette's hand (or mouth), so she offered to work things out. They came to a convoluted agreement: Harriett would accept a reduced amount from what the will stated, Harriett would sign a release against any other claims or remuneration and also reimburse Annette $500 for legal expenses. Sounded wacky, a result nothing like what a good lawyer would have conjured up, but this was Harriett's business, not mine.
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. Cash payment was one of Annette's requirements, and no one in their right mind mails $500 in cash. Where did Harriett get that kind of money? Maybe I wasn't the only one in our family with a side stash. Another was no electronic documents, instead everything had to be written or printed specifically on no-acid paper. That meant that someone, namely me, would 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. There were plenty of attractive passengers and flight attendants, all of whom seemed to be flaunting their bodies, teasing me. I was tempted to buy a Penthouse or Forum, but then what would I do with the resulting erection? Instead, I sat with my legs crossed and my arms folded and tried to ignore the temptations. Meanwhile, my fantasies ran wild.
At the airport, I 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? It wasn't that late, just past 8. 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. She'd grown into a lovely young woman with curves in all of the right places. 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 and leave my mother alone." She shoved at the door and stalked away towards the left. 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 all of those women I'd seen, or the short skirt and the way it swooshed as Joanie's hips swayed. But I had an incontrovertible rule: no sex with family.
She didn't see me following her inside. Maybe she thought the door slam had been sufficient. An envelope on the wrought iron entry table was addressed to Harriett Marcus. I was sure 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 really need to see her."
Joanie spun, the hem of her short skirt flirting with her waist. "Get out!" She pointed an accusing finger. "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."
"I bet you are." She continued her rant. "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. This was fascinating, illuminating an aspect of Annette I'd never suspected. 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 fuck 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? Damn it, what about 'leave' don't you understand?"
"That doesn't change my urgency to see her."
"Nobody could be that horny." 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 and I couldn't have her. She was family. "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."
.... There is more of this story ...