Massage Therapy Ch. 01

"Ricky, what is wrong with you!"

"I'm...not decent, Kristin. I told you, I was heading to the shower. I didn't know you were here."

Her eyes widened just a bit. "Are you naked?"

"Yes," he said sheepishly.

She gave an amused giggle, then pointed to the towel that he had dropped on the floor, near the doorway. She pointed at it. "If you're going to be like that, there's your towel. Jeez!"

Rick couldn't get over how casual his sister was being about having woken up topless to her staring brother. She truly believed he was just surprised, not actually turned on by this. She was just too innocent, and she had every right to be. There really had never been any sexual awkwardness between them before, and it was only in his head now. So she wanted him to come over and hug her, no big deal, right? Well, his erection said otherwise as it continued to rage against the wall, just out of her sight. But since he had the other towel in his hands and didn't want to look like a jerk to her after being gone so long, he managed to unfold it and wrap it around his body, carefully adjusting his cock to flatten against his belly, hopefully obscured by the bulk of the fluffy towel, with his hand strategically holding everything in place.

Kristin smiled wider when Ricky finally entered the room. She was amused that he was clad only in a cotton towel. He still had the slender, muscular body she remembered from his last visit. She was happy that he kept in shape, it meant he would remain healthy and live longer. She also knew her brother had had girlfriends, and they would no doubt be attracted to his physique. She hoped someday that when she fell in love it would be with a boy as handsome as her brother.

She stood as he crossed over to her, and they hugged affectionately. Rick kept his hips bent back a little, avoiding her pelvis with his erection. He felt her large breasts flatten and squish out against his chest as she held tightly. He kissed the top of her head. They were quiet for a moment, happy to be there with each other, and then finally moved apart slightly. Rick could see right down Kristin's shirt to the valley of her naturally large cleavage, and somehow one of the only two buttons she used to clasp her shirt closed had popped open.

Kristin caught him staring at her and smiled. "I know. Crazy, huh?"

Rick swallowed. "Yeah, pretty surprising."

Kristin said, "I hate them, though. They grew too fast, and they really hurt."

"They hurt?"

"Yeah. Mom said I've got growing pains."

"In your breasts?"

She nodded. "Mom said there was really nothing I could do about it until they stop growing, which hopefully is soon. If they get as big as Mom's I'm not going to be able to stand up straight!"

Rick couldn't help but smile. "Not with that skinny little frame of yours."

Kristin reached up and cupped the base of her breasts. Rick's mouth went dry as he saw this. Then, to his amazement, Kristin actually began rubbing her breasts in front of him. She said, "Mom said I should rub them when they get sore, like a stiff neck or back."

In a horse voice, Rick said, "I guess...that makes sense."

"She also massages them for me when they get really, really sore, which is the case now."

Rick began to worry his erection would rip through the towel. He kept a hand planted firmly in place, holding the damned thing against his body. In his aroused state, the idea of his mother massaging his little sister's breasts—two women in an intimate situation—was almost too much for him. He knew his mother, in addition to having her doctorate in Kinesiology, was also a licensed massage therapist, a carry-over from the job she'd held to help pay for her higher education.

"I wish Mom were here now," Kristin said, sitting on the bed and sighing, still rubbing her breasts with apparent frustration.

"They...they really hurt?" Rick asked carefully.

Kristin nodded. "Rubbing my own boobs is like rubbing my own feet when they're sore. It just doesn't feel as good to do it yourself."

Rick just stared. If his sister was happy to squeeze her tits in front of him, he was happy to watch. Swallowing, trying to get saliva back into his throat, he said, "When's Mom getting home?"

"Kinda late tonight, I think. She said she has to go down to the track at the university to watch one of her clients do laps. He's recovering from knee surgery or something."

"I see...." His mind, of course, had already bridged the gap of where he'd hoped this conversation was going. He desperately wanted to volunteer to massage his sister's breasts. He couldn't believe he was even allowing himself to think it, but the twitching, pulsating penis connected to his body was calling the shots now. Nevertheless, if such a thing was even remotely going to happen, he knew it would have to be her idea.

He said, "I'm sorry you're in pain, sis. Mom really is the best at massage, isn't she?"

Kristin glanced up at him. When they were growing up, their mother had been—still was—a strong believer in therapeutic massage. Getting a massage, Janice maintained, not only felt good, it also released natural endorphins into the bloodstream, which alleviated pain and stress. Have a headache? Get a massage. Stressful day in school? Massage. Upset about a tragic event? Massage. Mom was very generous with her massages, and she'd taught both of her children to be pretty good amateur massage therapists, too.

Which is exactly what Rick was hoping his little sister would remember.

And she did.

"Ricky...would you mind helping me?"

Trying to stay cool, he said casually, "Hmm? How?"

"Would you massage me? I really am in pain here."

Resisting the urge to pounce on her, Rick managed, "Sure...I suppose."

Despite his attempt to be cool, Kristin sensed the anxiety in his voice. She said, "You don't have a problem massaging my boobs, do you?"

"Me? No. Of course not."

Kristin smiled and immediately took her shirt off. Reclining back on the bed with her wonderful 18-year-old breasts sticking right up, she said, "Oh, thank you, Ricky! This is going to feel sooooo good."

You don't know the half of it, Rick thought as he approached his sister. He took a step over to her and looked down. He was now only a couple of feet from her, and he could gaze without obstruction or distance at the smooth flesh of her naked upper body. He could smell her soft fruity scent, too. It was intoxicating. He felt his knees weakening.

Now came the question of how to begin. Did he just lean down and start rubbing away? Should he find some massage lotion? How should he sit? He was wearing this towel like a tight kilt, which made things awkward. (Strangely enough, neither one of them thought it was weird that he would be wearing only this towel while he massaged his half-naked sister.) Finally, he sat along the side of the bed, facing her. He had to close his knees together. The way his legs were facing, if she opened her eyes and moved her head slightly, she would be able to see up his towel. In such a case, she would undoubtedly see his hairy balls, swollen with the semen that he would be desperate to release once this massage was over and he was able to escape into the solace of his bedroom...

His cock, still raging hard, was pressed up against his belly, tightly covered by the towel, which was rolled tightly at the top. He finally, carefully, pulled his protective hand from where it was holding everything together. As long as he didn't shift around too much, it felt like the towel would hold in place. And if he could get his cock to settle down a bit, there would be less risk of a towel slipping episode.

When he finally reached out and placed one hand tentatively atop one of her naked breasts, both brother and sister couldn't help but utter a mutual gasp—hers of relief, his of simple sexual shock. But Kristin's eyes remained closed, and a happy, relaxed smile remained on her face. That meant only one thing: Rick could proceed.

His instincts, influenced by the raging hormones of the horny boy in his body, were to squeeze his sister's breasts hard, pinch the nipples and perhaps even dive in for a nibble. Of course, with tremendous willpower what he actually did was begin a slow, gracefully controlled massaging action on both breasts with both hands. He had given dozens of massages to his mother and sister before, always on only their backs, legs and arms, of course, so it made sense to apply the same uniform circular moves on Kristin's front. He would simply have to console himself with the fact that he was, after all, getting to feel some very nice, very large boobs, even if he couldn't outwardly sexualize his actions.

Kristin was suddenly in heaven. She sighed and relaxed and indulged in the wonderfully relieving endorphins that she knew from her mother's teachings were starting to flow through her body. Ricky's massage techniques were a little rougher and less practiced than Mom's. His hands weren't as soft, but they were much larger and almost able to cover both of her breasts as he spread them out. Almost immediately the growing pains she'd been experiencing in her breasts began to fade away.

Rick was also in heaven. Now settled into a slow and steady routine, working his fingers strategically around his sister's fleshy mounds, he allowed his eyes to wander her body. He loved how his hands looked on her breasts, especially when one of her nipples sort of poked between his fingers as he occasionally spread them out. He admired the curve of her slender neck and the line of her jaw. It gave him true pleasure to see the look of happiness and relaxation on her face. He could feel her heart beating through her chest, and he noted that it actually slowed in its pulse as her body relaxed and settled into the sensation it was receiving.

As he massaged her, he happened to glance down and see that the top of his towel had loosened slightly, and to his horror he saw the tip of his cock poking out. Worse, the purplish head was glistening with clear pre-cum. If his sister opened here eyes and saw this, she would certainly recoil in horror at the fact that her own brother was getting a sexual charge out of massaging her breasts. He didn't want that to happen!

Trying to make his movements very smooth and subtle (his mother had warned that sudden movements in massage disrupted the gentle atmosphere of the experience and could ruin it for a client), Rick slid his hand gently down across one of Kristin's breasts and over her stomach. While there, he felt her wonderfully firm musculature under its flats surface. Nice. But there was no time for that now, he had to get the wet head of his penis back into the towel...

Kristin wanted this massage to continue for a hundred hours. She had never felt more relaxed in her entire life. She didn't understand why this particular massage felt so much better than others she'd had before from her mother, even though she was professionally trained. Perhaps there was something with the more masculine way her brother rubbed her body. His hands were large and strong and deliberate. It was like he suddenly had some kind of power over her. There was also something else very strange going on: her nipples were beginning to get harder and harder. She sensed that Ricky had to spread his fingers apart to keep from accidentally trapping a nipple in as he moved his hands around. But every few revolutions, his palms moved against the very tips of her nipples, and in a way she was all too familiar with she knew that soon she would begin to get moist again in her vagina.

She would be very embarrassed if Ricky somehow noticed that she was wetting her panties with secretions that she knew a woman was only supposed to produce during sex. After it began happening to her regularly during increasingly frequent fantasies, Kristin spoke to her mother (they always maintained wonderfully open communication) who calmly explained that this was perfectly natural. Kristin had been really worried, but her mother just smiled and said, "Just because your vagina lubricates itself from time to time doesn't mean you're going to suddenly turn into a sex monster."

Kristin hoped her mother's explanation was true. She was beginning to get very wet down there. She hoped it didn't start to smell. One time, when she'd experimented in playing with herself, Kristin put her finger in her vagina, and after rubbing herself for a little while until wonderful jolts of pleasure shot through her loins, she put her wet finger to her lips and nose and tasted and smelled: there had been a subtle but distinct flavor. Was it something that Ricky would smell?

As these thoughts randomly rushed through her mind, Kristin felt one of Ricky's hands begin to move off of its regular circular course. As it moved down, his fingers scraped casually against one of her nipples, a little harder than normal, and Kristin couldn't help but let out the lightest of gasps. A fresh burst of vaginal fluid leaked into her already-most panties. Oh no, she thought, I must be absolutely soaked down there now. Surely he'll smell it!

She opened her eyes slightly, just as she felt Ricky's hand graze across her stomach. Ooo, that was new! She liked that. When she glanced up to study his face, worried that he smelled her juices, she saw that he was looking down. Oh no, she thought, it's worse than I thought. But when she tilted her head to follow his gaze, something else shocked her much worse than her own vaginal flow.

Ricky's penis!

It was sticking out of his towel! How could that be? She could only see the tip, and it was practically touching Ricky's belly button. This was bazaar! She knew enough about male anatomy to know that a boy's penis hung down between the legs, with the testicles. For her to see Ricky's penis like that it must be—oh my God, it must be hard! She always thought hard penises stuck straight out, not up...then again, if it was being restricted by the towel, then it could supposedly poke straight up, against the tummy. But for the head to be sticking up that far....

It occurred to Kristin that Ricky didn't realize she was watching him as he tried to adjust his penis and get it back inside the towel. As he did so, she noticed that a clear wet sticky substance was oozing slightly out of the little hole in the tip. What the heck was that? Finally, once he was adjusted once more, she watched him wipe his fingers on the towel before reaching back out with that hand to resume his massage of her other breast. As he did so, he looked at her face, and he saw that her eyes were open.

Rick's heart began beating wildly. How much had she seen? Her eyes were wide. The whole time, he had continued massaging her one breast with his hand. Actually, in his distraction with trying to adjust himself, his subconscious mind had continued the "massage" which had turned into little more than a cupping and squeezing action. He paused that action but kept the one hand on her breast.

He said, "Kristin, I'm sorry."

"Was that...was that your dick, Ricky?"

"Well..." He blushed bright red. Any second now he knew she would freak out and scream at him to get out. But he respected his sister too much to go anywhere but in an honest direction, so he lowered his head and nodded. "Yes."

"I don't understand," she said. Her tone sounded surprisingly calm. Curious, but calm. "How could it stick out like that?"

He looked at her again. He was relieved to find that her expression matched her tone. She was quite curious, but she was by no means freaking out. In fact, she didn't have a problem with the fact that one of his hands was still holding her breast.

"Ricky, is your penis...hard?"

He swallowed. He nodded.

"Why?"

In his embarrassed shock, Rick began to realize something. His sister Kristin wasn't freaking out due to the simple fact that she was truly and honestly curious about his penis, almost in a clinical sense. Despite her incredible newly bloomed breasts and the fact that she was now 18 years old, as far as he knew she was still a virgin and had always been extremely shy around boys. She didn't know yet how all the "plumbing" worked. She wanted her brother to explain it. So, he would try.

"Well," he began, and he removed his hand from her breast.

"Oh, Ricky, don't stop your massage!"

"Oh...okay." He reached up again with both hands and resumed his caressing of her young breasts.

She smiled, letting out a relaxed sigh. "Now...explain."

Does she really know what she's asking, Rick wondered skeptically. And did she really not know how guys got hard-ons? Well, he would do his best to explain, but he would watch her closely. Once she became uncomfortable, he would back away.

He said, "A man's thing...his penis...becomes hard when blood begins to flow into—"

She giggled, "Silly goose! I don't mean how does it physically get hard—I know how that all works. What I mean is, why? Why is it getting hard now?"

"Well, Kristin, the fact of the matter is, I'm a boy, and you're a girl."

"Duh!"

"Shh, let me try to explain. Even though what we're doing right now is to help relieve you of your growing pains, normally when a boy touches a girl's breasts it is considered much more intimate than when a boy touches, say, the girl's shoulders." He paused, gauging her reaction.

She didn't seem bothered. She simply asked, "So because massaging my boobs is more intimate than my shoulders, you're getting hard?"

"Yes."

"But it's not like we're going to have sex or anything. We're brother and sister."

"Yes, but..." Rick sighed, realizing things were going to get a lot more awkward. But he loved her and respected her enough to be honest: "What we're doing...it's still of a sexual nature. If you were just a regular girl, and I was a regular guy, it would be a sexual thing for me to feel your breasts." He added quickly, "I love you, Kristin, and you are my sister, yes, but I guess my body...my penis...doesn't always know the difference. I'm sorry."

Kristin gazed into her brother's eyes when he offered his apology. Her heart went out to him; he seemed genuinely embarrassed and troubled that he had offended her. She felt compelled to show that she was okay with this. She was aware, of course, that girls didn't normally expose their breasts to boys unless sex was going to be involved. But her thinking up to this point was, "He's my brother, it's no big deal." Nonetheless, she finally realized, although Ricky was giving her an honestly therapeutic massage, naked boobs were naked boobs, and the poor boy was reacting as nature intended.

Knowing that she had to put him at his ease, she confessed, "Ricky, I'm being affected too, you know."

"How so?"

"Well, you may have noticed but...my nipples are hard."

He paused in his massaging, his palms now cupping her hard nipples. "I noticed," he said, a slight grin on his face.

"But there's more," Kristin went on. "You see, when my nipples get hard, my...well, I get sort of wet...down there."

She watched her brother stare at her for a moment, and then he seemed to get it. Not only did he get it, it must've caused some kind of reaction in him, because she saw his jaw sort of tense up and his eyes narrow. Then he glanced down, and when she followed his gaze, she saw that the head of his penis had once again made an appearance above the line of the towel around his waist.

Rick took a hand from her breast to once again tuck in his newly inflamed erection. He was stunned to hear Kristin say, "No, Ricky...it's okay. Leave it."

"What?"

She shrugged. "I've already seen it. What's the big deal? I know why it's hard now. I appreciate you explaining. We now know that our bodies are reacting to each other, so we can adjust to this feeling and not get weird about it."

"Well...okay."