tagIncest/TabooMassage Therapy

Massage Therapy


[Author's Note: This is a revised edition of "Massage Therapy." The situation and characters are all exactly the same, but I have corrected a couple of glaring logistical errors which should now make the reading more realistic. I deserve any and all constructive criticism I have received so far. Thank you for being brutally honest, and keep up the feedback, positive or negative. Happy reading! --ATW]


Kristin Davidge shut the front door behind her and listened to nothing but silence for several seconds. She was relieved to find that the house was empty. She had just gotten home off the bus from a particularly stressful day at school, and all she wanted was a little peace and quiet, even if for a short period of time. She dropped her book bag on the floor near the door, kicked off her uniform sneakers, and padded directly up the stairs in her white knee-high socks.

She entered her room, not bothering to close the door, and allowed herself to drop in one fell swoop onto her twin-size bed. Her short plaid uniform skirt flared out from her slender legs, but her white button-down uniform shirt suddenly felt constricted.

"Dammit," she mumbled, lifting her head and looking at her chest. To her frustration, her breasts seemed to have grown even more in the last couple of weeks, and once again her uniform shirt was too small. The material stretched across her mounds. Even though she was lying on her back, her boobs were just too naturally firm and pushed right up. The movement of the tight shirt rubbed against her sensitive nipples, which now poked out like a pair of little spikes.

Kristin knew from watching TV, movies and reading her mother's magazines like Cosmo and Allure, that large firm breasts were what men wanted and flat women wished they had. But right now, at barely 18 years of age, having big boobs was nothing but a terrible hassle. Kristin was the only girl in her twelfth-grade class to have such enormous naturally developing breasts. A few other girls obviously padded their bras in a pathetic attempt to look older. The boys in her class teased her incessantly—especially today—and while she was beginning to get noticed by the older boys in the neighboring junior college they sort of scared her.

Not even six months ago Kristin had only the mildest of mounds pushing only slightly out from her chest, and she had honestly begun wondering if she'd ever develop a bust. However, she was very skinny and only an inch or two over five feet, so along with her thin legs, flat tummy and perky but small rear, having small breasts fit just fine. Then, suddenly, as if a secret hormonal switch had been turned on in her body, it was as if Kristin's boobs had started growing and swelling overnight. Every couple of months since then her mother had to help her pick out new, larger bras, and none of her favorite little-girl shirts fit her anymore. Worst of all, her breasts ached. It didn't help that she had to keep her boobs clamped up in a stuffy bra all day so they wouldn't jiggle about at recess. Even together, the bra and the tight shirt could do nothing to stop (or hide) the fact that Kristin's breasts just kept getting bigger.

"Growing pains," her mother, Janice, had finally explained. At 39, Janice was a successful physical therapist with a PhD in Kinesiology, and she ran her own sports medicine clinic, so she definitely knew something about human anatomy. She went on: "Teenage boys and girls sometimes experience growing pains when they 'sprout' too fast. Usually it's felt in the knees or elbows as you go through a growth spurt, but for you, my dear, it's your breasts."

"Unfortunately," Mom added, "you inherited my genes. See?" She hefted her own large, very full pair of breasts swelling within her shirt. Kristin had seen her mother naked several times, and it was true that Mom's breasts were absolutely huge.

Watching her mother make funny faces as she squeezed her own big boobs, Kristin couldn't help but smile. Mom smiled back and said, "I too went through this awkward phase, being the first girl to...develop in school. I remember what it was like, dear. The boys tease you because they haven't quite figured out the birds and the bees, and the girls tease you because, well, because society seems to prefer big breasts, and they're all just jealous."

Today Kristin had experienced the truth of her mother's explanation to the highest degree. The boys had held a contest to see who could sneak up behind her and grab her boobies with both hands. None of them had fully succeeded, but that was after several pokes and pinches and other glancing blows all day. And from the girls it was verbal, calling her "slut" and "ho" and "hoochie" as if she was suddenly some kind of sex-addict just because she was developing physically.

Sex addict! "Ha!," Kristin scoffed aloud. She had always been terribly shy and naïve about sexuality. In fact, though at her age in the 21st century no one could believe it, she had barely even kissed a boy once, a year ago, and it had lasted only a few seconds at that! Once he had tried to put his tongue in her mouth Kristin had recoiled in shock and shoved him away, determining right there that boys were dirty and weird. Strangely enough, she'd all but forgotten about that silly little kiss until...until her breasts had started growing! It seemed as if puberty, delayed in its launch, was now kicking into overdrive. Even though she was infinitely inexperienced at how the whole process worked she instinctively began thinking more and more about sex, knowing from TV and stuff that it usually began with a kiss...

Lying there on the bed, Kristin's aching breasts reminded her that they were still constricted by the bra and shirt. She sat up and removed them both. She held her bra up and double-checked the size: 32B. Her mother had warned that she would soon need a 34B, possibly even a C, and now it felt as if that was the case. Kristin wondered just how much her breasts would ultimately grow. She knew her mother was a 36D, so it was quite possible that she would eventually grow all out of proportion to her skinny little body. Heck, it already felt like that!

Kristin caught her reflection in the mirror above her dresser, and she turned profile to study her jutting naked boobs. Yep, they definitely looked bigger. To her added frustration, she hadn't grown any taller. Her hips had started to flare ever so slightly, but whatever hormones God had seen fit to give her, He had definitely thrown 99% of them into her boobs!

At times like this, when her swollen chest ached really badly, Kristin's mom had advised her to massage them. "Just like you would rub your tired feet," Janice had explained, "or massage a stiff neck, it's a way to get the blood flowing and help you relax. It's perfectly normal."

Lying back on the bed, still wearing her short plaid skirt and knee-high socks but quite naked on the top half, Kristin reached up and gently began massaging her own breasts. She carefully avoided her erect nipples—they were just way too sensitive right now, and whenever she rubbed those she felt a little funny...down there. She wasn't quite sure why that was. Why would touching her nipples cause her vagina to get tingly and moist? She didn't feel like changing her white cotton panties right now, so she avoided what would make them damp. For several minutes she simply closed her eyes, tried to relax in the blessed silence of the empty house, and casually squeezed and massaged her breasts. Eventually, she dozed into a light slumber, allowing her hands to slip down to the bed on her sides.


Richard Davidge, Kristin's 20-year-old brother, was halfway through his third year in college. He was looking forward to someday getting a decent job and putting his years and years of study to good use. Ironically, he still wasn't quite sure just where he would begin his career, but one thing was for sure: he'd had his fill of studying even though he still had another boring year to go.

And he'd had his fill for the semester, too, which was why he was quite eager to escape from his crumby apartment in his college town in favor of his childhood home half a state away, in the more modest town in which he'd grown up. His mother had pretty much kept his room as is from the time he'd left for school at 17. It was always a nostalgic experience to visit again.

This time, he'd been gone the entire semester without seeing his home or family, nearly six months. Usually he would get at least one or two long weekends here or there to make the long drive back home. This past semester, however, had been quite brutal in terms of academics, and he'd been spending nearly every free moment perfecting his senior project required for graduation. He spoke regularly with his mother, Janice, and sister, Kristin, by phone or email, and he was eager to see them again. In one of her latest emails to him, his mother had warned that Kristin had "grown considerably" since he'd last been home. At an even six feet, Rick towered over his baby sister. He was used to looking down at her and offering his brotherly teases about his little "pipsqueak" sister. He tried to imagine her being taller but probably still skinny as a toothpick, which would make her look pretty silly.

Nevertheless, he told himself to be nice to her at first because she was probably quite sensitive about it. He remembered his own awkward teenage years, when he'd been a short, scrawny little dork until shortly after his fifteenth birthday, when suddenly he seemed to start growing a couple of inches a month. He'd suffered agonizing growing pains in his knees. The only good thing about all that suffering was the extra inches he'd gained in his penis. With the few girls he'd managed to sleep with over the years, there had never been any complaints about his cock. If poor Kristin was suffering the same growth-spurts—except the penis part, of course—he would have to be sympathetic. He knew Kristin looked up to him and would be crushed if he reacted negatively to her bodily changes, so if he was surprised to see her suddenly taller or with a face full of pimples, he would have to pretend nothing was different.

He pulled up to the house in the old Honda that had stuck with him and his meager budget through college. Using the clicker he kept in the glove compartment, he opened the garage door and was slightly disappointed to see that the two-car space was void of another vehicle: Mom wasn't home yet. Oh well, perhaps he could surprise his mother by having a meal cooked and ready for her.

Rick pulled into the garage, closed the main door, and glanced at his watch: 3:20. He wasn't sure exactly when Kristin got out of school, but he knew from a recent email that she had been working on a complicated school science project, which had been keeping her at school at least a couple extra hours each day. So he would be surprising both of them with the meal. Cooking was one of his favorite hobbies, so he knew they'd both be pleased with something really special roasting in the oven upon their return home.

Lugging a duffle bag over his shoulder, he entered into the kitchen from the garage and listened for a moment: silence. If Kristin were home there would invariably be a TV going, MySpace etched on the computer screen, and a cell phone blazing with texts—typical teenage girl multitasking. Rick glanced at his watch again and figured he had time for a quick shower before digging through the pantry and fridge to see what he could whip up for supper.

The Davidge home was a moderate-sized four-bedroom two-story Mediterranean-style structure, pretty much identical to one out of every four houses on the rest of the block. Typical modern suburban family homes, all pretty much the same house with four different floor plans. Rick made his way up the broad open staircase until he came to the first door: his room. Further down the hallway was Kristin's bedroom, a spare room, and then the master bedroom for his mom. (Rick's father had been out of the picture for several years now, having divorced when the kids had only been a few years old.)

Rick took a deep breath upon entering his room, happy to see that his mother had freshened up the bed knowing he'd be home this weekend. It was a small, old bed, a little squeaky and sagging, but he'd grown up in that bed, masturbated a million times in that bed, even made love to a girl or two in the bed. It was his place of honor. He would never get rid of it. He dropped his bag on the floor and immediately began to undress. He'd been up driving since dawn, and he looked forward to a quick refreshing shower before settling in.

He padded naked into the bathroom that his bedroom shared with Kristin's room, which adjoined through a connecting door. There had been times when they both lived here, when she was very, very young, that they'd gone through the classic sibling fights over use of the bathroom, but that seemed like ancient history now, and he and Kristin had a great relationship. When he entered the bathroom, Rick saw that the door on the other side, that led into Kristin's bedroom, was partially open. He could see her dresser and desk from here. In case she happened to come home while he was showering he figured he'd better close the door, and he did so absent-mindedly while glancing back into the bathroom to see what had changed.

He noticed that none of his usual toiletries were around. Kristin had either thrown out or hidden his preferred brand of shampoo, conditioner and soap. Though she preferred scents that were a little flowery for his taste, he figured he could survive with her stuff for now. That only left needing a towel, and that's when he noticed that the bathroom was devoid of any towels, except for one simple hand towel folded neatly on the counter. He shrugged, must be laundry day.

Rick left the bathroom through his bedroom and walked straight out into the upstairs hallway. He was naked but alone, so it didn't matter. Passing right by the open door to Kristin's bedroom, he walked about halfway down the hallway to where he knew a small linen closet would contain spare towels. Sure enough, there were plenty from which to choose, and he grabbed two. When he turned back toward his room and took a couple of steps he was now able to see into Kristin's bedroom from an angle that presented her bed to his field of vision and—

Holy Mother of God!

Rick absolutely froze in his tracks. At first it was from simple and complete surprise to discover that his sister was home after all. But surprise switched swiftly to embarrassment when he remembered that he was completely nude. Embarrassment became full on shock when he saw that Kristin herself was nude—well, her top half was.

The shock increased exponentially when Rick blinked a few times at the huge pair of tits that swelled beautifully atop his little sister's rib cage. Holy Christ, he thought, when Mom said that Kristin had "grown considerably" who would've guessed she meant like this!

Rick stared: he stared openly and in total wonder. Kristin's breasts were amazing. They were perfect. They looked insanely large attached to her skinny little frame. He could see the outline of her ribs, and her arms were still very slender, as were her legs. How had nature managed to throw so much flesh into those two glorious mounds without spreading it out over the rest of her body? Perhaps she would eventually fill out, but for now this 18-year-old little girl had the body and tits any Hollywood actress would've paid tens of thousands of dollars to achieve artificially.

After several seconds, Rick managed to come to his senses enough to recall that he was standing naked in the hallway, with only a pair of fluffy towels shielding his genitals from his half-naked little sister. Fortunately, she appeared to be asleep. But it was quite possible that Kristin would wake up any minute now, so Rick had to make a decision.

His decision was this: keep staring.

He took another step toward Kristin's door but then slanted to the side, angling just his head and shoulders into the doorway so that if for some reason Kristin woke up and caught him, at least his lower body would be shielded by the wall. He watched Kristin sleep, and breath, and heave her chest slowly up and down. Not only were the mounds themselves luscious, full and seemingly defiant of gravity, she had nice nipples as well, each of which was surrounded by a perfectly proportioned areola. And Lord God above, her nipples were hard! Rick was transfixed, but after several moments he actually managed to pull his bulging eyes from those perfect breasts, figuring he might as well check out the rest of her body.

First he went up, allowing gaze to take in his sister's cute face with its smooth creamy complexion and button nose. She had long, naturally wavy blond hair, a little past shoulder length, and it spread out softly on the pillow beneath her head. Then, moving back down (and pausing yet again on those breasts), Rick peered down along her chest and to her stomach, which was flat, defined and wonderfully smooth. The beginning of her hips was covered by the top of her pleated, plaid-patterned uniform skirt. The skirt itself was short, terribly short, and at this angle Rick realized he could see just slightly up and into Kristin's crotch. There was just enough light in the room to let him know that her panties were white.

At this point Rick squeezed his eyes shut, blinked, and looked down at himself. He had dropped one of the towels to hold himself steady on the wall. Something flat and cold had started pressing against his penis, and checking this sensation out Rick realized that it was in fact his penis as it began to swell. It was touching the cold wall. When he backed his hips up a little, the blood continued to flow south, and in seconds Rick was sporting a raging hard-on. His thick, impressive cock was erect—while he stared at his sister!

He tried to rationalize this as just being more horny than normal. Because of the intense research project he had been conducting this semester, he'd been horrible about maintaining any kind of steady dating life. He'd never been much good at keeping a steady girlfriend anyway, though he managed to get laid at least every few months or so. However, he'd been in a really dry spell lately, for the last several months, which meant he was horny. Very horny.

Now he was horny for his sister. His own flesh and blood 18-year-old sister.

With this newfound incestuous lust welling up within him (and in his throbbing cock), Rick returned his gaze to his sister, double-checking those tits yet again, before resuming his complete examination of every visible section of her body. From the crotch area again, and those pure white panties, Rick moved lower still, following along the exposed flesh of her slim thighs and knees. At that point, the tops of her white knee-high socks began. Rick shook his head, honestly wondering if school officials made it a specific point to design uniforms to drive every heterosexual adult male insane with lust. So, the socks, yes, those clean white socks, covering pretty calves and dainty ankles, connecting in turn to perfect little feet.

Rick began to fantasize about rolling those socks slowly down his sister's legs, one at a time, pausing at each foot to lick and nibble lightly at her pretty little toes. It was while he was staring at her feet, letting his purely inappropriate fantasy play out in his head, when he heard a familiar voice.

"Hi, Ricky."


Kristin didn't know for how long she'd been dozing, and it was in this slightly groggy state that she opened her eyes, glanced at the open doorway, and saw her big brother, Ricky, poking his head in. She smiled and said, "Hi, Ricky." She loved her brother very much and was excited to have him back home for a while.

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