Sister-in-Law Superbowl History

I had been looking forward to this day for weeks. Why? Because I'm a huge Seattle Seahawks fan and they were playing the Denver Broncos in the Superbowl. We were all gathered at my brother's large farm house- men of all ages and all of us related in some way. By design, this had turned into an almost exclusive men's party. All of the women in our lives were together at my home few hours away, with my wife, at El Matador State Beach in Malibu, California. A few of the women were into football, but most of them were looking forward to some beach time at one of the most beautiful beaches in California. Fun for them, fun for us. We were excited beyond belief, laughing, eating, drinking, and riveted to the pregame show. It's safe to say football was the only thing on our minds.

The only woman left in this house was my brother Tom's wife, Cindy. She was supposed to be in Malibu with the girls but three days earlier had what can only be described as a pretty serious glute injury. I know what you're thinking - butt hurt. However, her butt wasn't the real problem. When you have a glute injury it causes a lot of added stress to the hamstrings and lower back extensors. Once these other muscles start to spasm, the pain can be debilitating. (Okay, I admit I'm a physical therapist, but the last 10 years I've been managing a pain clinic and haven't had any hands-on patient care experience in over a decade.)

Cindy had refused the hardcore pain killers, muscle relaxants, and anti-inflammatories that would have let her limp along with the other girls. As a result, she was on bed rest and kind of isolated in her upstairs master bedroom.

I think it's tacky when guys spend a lot of time describing a women's body, especially if it's a close relative, but suffice to say she's beautiful, 10 years younger than me in her 30's, athletic, long dark brown hair, boobs that have been upgraded, and tight. My stupid brother had married well.

The first play of the game Denver's center snapped the ball over Peyton Manning's head resulting in a safety. Things just got better and better as the Seahawks jumped ahead to a 22-0 lead in the first quarter. The drinking increased dramatically, the noise level had raised, the party was full on now. I was way at the back of the room by myself. I had a view of the back of everyone's head, but could still see the game perfectly on the big screen. Perfect for me.

When Cindy hobbled into the room, I had forgotten she was home. She looked disheveled, barefoot, and was dressed super casual in a pair of PE shorts, a loose-fitting top that didn't quite reach her belly button, and no bra. For whatever reason it was like she was the invisible woman. None of the other guys noticed her. But she must have noticed my head snap around and she caught me doing the long appraisal. As my eyes lifted from her thinly covered nipples to her eyes, we made eye contact and both smiled. Busted. Oh well, I think she appreciated one man noticed her entrance. Suddenly, for me, the game became less interesting. I felt a familiar movement, a jump really, in my groin. Messy Cindy was definitely hot Cindy.

She went up front to my brother Tom and after several attempts finally got his attention. They had a short, heated exchange that I couldn't hear because of the TV and the drunk crowd. I was watching her intently when my brother suddenly turned, pointed at me, said something short and returned his attention to the game. Cindy looked at me a little embarrassed and slowly made her way through the crowd back to my location. When she got to my isolated spot, I reached out and touched her hand. A human gesture. I wanted her to know I genuinely cared about her.

She said, "I'm super uncomfortable."

"I bet you are. That's a tough injury. What have you tried so far? Are you okay?"

That last question opened a flood gate of tears, explanations, and diagnoses that I listened to patiently. Apparently when she told my brother how much pain she is in, he told her to talk to me because of my position at the pain clinic. Truth is I'm a paper pusher, but he doesn't know anything about what I really do. Cindy explained that she had been alternating hot and cold compresses, resting, and taking some over the counter pain relievers. But the pain was getting almost unbearable. The pain had migrated to her hamstrings (back of the upper leg) and her lower back. This is actually typical for this type of injury.

"What you really need is a deep tissue massage. A skilled massage therapist can release the Piriformis Medius muscle, work those hamstrings, and dig into your lower back. It's pretty painful but provides some lasting relief, sometimes for hours or even days. The problem is it's Sunday, and the real problem is it's Superbowl Sunday. You aren't going to find anyone until tomorrow."

She started sobbing again. I felt terrible, so I asked her to sit and I worked my way up to my brother Tom's location and told him what was going on.

Part Two

"I'm a physical therapist, not a massage therapist, but I should be able to help her."

He looked at me cross-eyed and said, "There is no way in hell you are going to massage my wife's butt. I'll give it a try it later myself."

It took me a minute, but I finally convinced him by explaining I didn't need to massage her butt, just the hamstring muscles, abductors, and a little work on her lower back. "It can all be done right here in the back of the room, with her standing." (I didn't explain that the abductors are really the inner thigh. He's an idiot.) Remarkably he agreed and returned his attention to the game which had gotten completely out-of-hand. To my utter amazement, he never looked back again the whole time.

I explained to Cindy what I wanted to try. "By standing it's going to be a little uncomfortable for you, and it's less than ideal, but the optics of us going to the master bedroom together for an hour while I rub your butt is more than your weak-minded husband can tolerate." We laughed together. I noticed she was already starting to be hopeful for some relief, but I had a problem of my own. I had a semi-erect penis already and I knew how intimate this process was going to get. I also knew that anything public is a kink of mine. I would have been less turned on in the private bedroom upstairs than I would be here with a room full of men, even if they are oblivious.

It turned out I was more comfortable behind her, on the ground, sitting on my heals. She was standing of course. The funny thing is the crowd, if they did look back, would just see my sister-in-law standing behind an empty couch watching the game. I was completely hidden by her and the couch. I hit the guest bathroom and grabbed a small bottle of lotion. Not what was needed or what a real massage therapist would have, but it was better than my dry hands pulling skin and hair. I put a dab of lotion in my hands and started working on her right hamstring.

The PE trunks were loose and I could see she had on a red thong of some kind. Kneeling here behind her I could smell her. Because I was below, sometimes when she shifted slightly, I could see past her stomach and her under-boob would come into view. It was almost more than I could take. I needed to FOCUS.

Her hamstring was really tight, and I had to be careful to make sure it wasn't too painful or cause her to cry out and attract attention. Any real attention my direction and the teepee forming in my pants would be painfully obvious to all. My physical therapist days came back to me like riding a bike. I worked the muscle and felt her start to relax and she slowly became like puddy in my hands.

Part Three

I was better at this than I thought I would be. This experiment started out as a longshot, but it became apparent she was getting real pain relief. This made us both happy. The crowd, the game, the noise all faded into the background. It felt like we were in our own little space, but truly in a room filled with 20 men. I had just finished both hamstrings and was ready to move to her lower back. I asked permission, and she agreed to pull the PE trunks down a few inches for access to her lower back. I was surprised and more than a little turned on to see a tattoo on her lower back. Wow! It was really classy too. She's been my sister-in-law for eight years and I had no clue this beautiful ink even existed. It was a little shocking because of her upbringing, but it made me happy she had this permanent expression. I felt honored to witness it.

I worked her lower back carefully and she responded by relaxing and leaning back into my hands. Honestly, my hands were starting to get tired. How do massage therapists do this all day long? I checked the time by looking up at the game. It was the middle of the second quarter so we only had about 30 minutes before halftime. I know what you're thinking, but I'd been a perfect gentleman up to this point, except for an occasional peek at her under-boob. I had even been so focused my erection was barely visible. I also knew the next and final stage, working those abductors was going to be intimate. She was so appreciative of me at this moment, and likely pain free. I was really curious what would happen when I started working her inner thighs.

Part Four

I began by basically kneading her inner thigh with one hand on the outside of her leg, and one on the inside. I started near the knee and worked my way slowly up her athletic leg. A few times she flinched. Was this ticklish? Painful? Or maybe too intimate? I was afraid to ask. I wanted to keep going and was worried any questions would lead to, "Maybe we should stop now?"

Suddenly my spirits dropped. Cindy said, "Stop!" But then she added, "I need to use the restroom." She slipped out behind me and the room full of men. When she returned, I got the shock of my life. The red thong was missing. I could see it through the fabric before, but now nothing. I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt. She probably thought I never knew it was there. But I was very aware of its presence. Now even that thin barrier was absent.

I continued my work, with the lotion, but soon realized there was another lubricant touching my fingers when I approached the apex of her inner thigh. Lubricant, much softer and slicker than the bottled lotion with a faint scent of musk and womanhood. My semi-erect penis was now a full blown hard on. I leaned in close and breathed in a deep breath of her. I carefully extended my fingers slightly to capture more of the natural lubricant and brought it to my mouth for a taste. When I looked up, there was the eye contact again. She smiled knowingly. Oh my god, how can I go on? Again, I looked at the game, the clock was ticking.

I changed my hand position and definitely got more aggressive with my fingers. The perineum is a thin layer of skin between the vaginal opening and the anus. I kept slightly bumping it during my upward motion and she was definitely responding by spreading her legs just slightly more and bending just a little at the hips rather than standing straight up. The slick touch, the smell, the throbbing hard on. I was about to break. My mind kept screaming THIS IS CINDY! SHE IS BASICALLY YOUR SISTER. But my penis was doing the real talking now. My penis wanted in there, even though I knew that would be entirely impossible and wrong.

On my next trip up her thigh, I let one of my fingers just barely touch her labia minora, centimeters from the vaginal opening. Hand up and down. Bump, bump, bump. Then a response from her. As I was moving my hand up her inner thigh, she shifted just slightly to the left and three of my fingers entered her vagina. Not far, just the finger tips. But three of them! Five bumps later and those three fingers were in to the first knuckle. All I could feel was slick heat. It felt like there were no resistance. She was hot and loose. I just added a little pressure and all three fingers entered her vagina all the way to my hand. I withdrew those fingers and added another, wondering where I would hit any kind of resistance. Nothing. I pulled out those four fingers and added my thumb into the mix. Okay, now I'm getting some resistance, but not a lot. I applied pressure and sure enough my whole hand slid inside her pussy.

I'm happy for the crowd noise, because she is breathing very hard and even though I'm barely moving my hand there is a definite slopping sound. Just seconds later I felt her clench down on my hand and I knew she was in a full orgasm. I could feel the blood being pushed from my hand and I added pressure against the squeezing pussy. I wasn't expecting this, but she creamed all over my hand and it ran down her legs. I slowly leaned forward and licked a large mouthful of the arousal fluid, white in color dripping all the way to the floor. It tasted so fucking good.

Just as suddenly, she became aware of where we really were. We were in her living room. Her husband was 25 feet away being the idiot that he is. The crowd was cheering and drunk. Their life was beautiful. The Seahawks were winning. Bruno Mars was ready to go on stage. The Red-Hot Chili Peppers were there too. I felt like my life had reached its pinnacle. There was nowhere to go from here except down.

I carefully and slowly removed my whole hand from her vagina and took a moment to admired the gape. She has a large vagina. Huge really. All I can physically feel is the throbbing in my penis. Other than that, I'm pretty much numb. I grabbed a throw pillow and quickly cleaned up the mess, then slid the pillow under the couch. Cindy straightened herself the best she could and quietly slipped out of the room. After she left, I removed my penis and pulled out the soiled throw pillow. In just a few strokes I added my seminal fluid to her vaginal discharge and returned the pillow to its safe place.

We never had sex, but we became very close. A few months later she admitted to me she hadn't laundered the throw pillow. It was hidden, but sometimes she would pull it out, grab one of her monster dildos, and relive the whole thing. Oh, and the Seahawks won 43-8. It was a historical day in many ways.