Love and Release

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Siblings discover the power of touch.
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My first submission!

All characters are 18+

********************

It all started, as these things often do, very innocently.

For years, I'm pretty sure my sister thought I was gay, or, at the very least, totally disinterested in sex. I didn't date anyone and instead spent many hours pouring over books from the library. This bookish obsession carried me through middle school and into high school, eventually landing me a part-time job at the local library. By then I knew it inside and out.

I always preferred to talk about the book I was reading rather than anyone at school, and, when pressed, I actually talked about someone of the opposite sex, my descriptions came out sounding clinical and detached.

Not that she minded terribly much. Our family was religious enough to go to church, but she and I were both very much members of our generation.

When she finally cornered me in my room to ask if I was gay, she was tried to be as polite - and quiet - as possible. She didn't want me to sound judged in the least. She was just curious. I couldn't blame here. I just looked up from my book, listened to her question, then kinda shrugged. At the time, I didn't want to talk about sex with my sister.

Just after she turned 19, she started community college nearby. She would go to classes for a few hours, work retail until dinnertime, and come home and crash out on the couch. If I was already sitting on the couch, she would politely rub her feet up against my legs. I would always lift up my book so she could stretch out.

Weeks of this schedule was making her start to look tired. No doubt she was trying to fit in studying before going to sleep and the pace was wearing on her.

She looked over from the TV show she was watching to see what I was reading.

"What's the topic this week?" she asked.

I paused for a minute, and looked up.

"Shiatsu." When she looked confused, I quickly added "Japanese massage".

My sister's confused look stayed, and surprise was quickly added. "Is that where you take people's clothes off and walk on their backs?"

I laughed. "No, this isn't anything like that. Clothes stay on. Everything is nice and gentle."

I continued. "I picked it up after thumbing through some of the library drop-off books today. Just starting to think about what I might do when I go to college."

"I always thought you'd be a librarian not a massage therapist," she said with a smile, turning back to the TV.

"It doesn't hurt to have options."

When the program she was watching hit its next commercial she looked back over at me. "I am your willing practice dummy if you want to try it. My back is killing me."

I looked up from my book, and she continued. "I figure it's probably better to actually try something before you sign yourself up to study it in school. That's why I'm in community college, so I can try lots of things first."

I didn't want to bring up that I thought it might be because we couldn't quite afford a university. Instead, I just nodded at her sisterly wisdom. She was right. Trying something before I went off to college to study it for years sounded like a good idea.

"When?"

"How about now?" she replied.

I chuckled and flipped back some of the beginner diagrams and bookmarked one. "Okay."

"Where do you want me?" she said, turning off the TV.

"Let's start here. We can move later, if we need more space."

I looked up at my sister in her post-work comfy attire. She had on a loose cotton top with a faded logo on the front and sweat pants. With little hesitation, she turned her back to face me and crossed her legs on the sofa cushion.

I opened the book on the floor beside me and gingerly began to feel out the points in the diagram. The steps seemed easy enough to follow, but I found myself talking to calm my sudden jangle of nerves.

"Shiatsu is similar to acupuncture," I began. "The idea is to make sure the energy in your body is flowing how it should."

I continued to tentatively move my hands, double-checking the diagram as I did so.

"Rather than massage directly on the sore muscle, the idea is to work on nearby areas that will allow the tight muscle to relax."

My sister listened patiently, and, sensing my nervousness, turned her head and said, "it feels good so far." Then, she smiled.

Her warmth settled my nerves enough that I could lay my hands fully on her. Without explaining what I was doing, I simply left them there for a few seconds, quietly wishing her body good health and thanking her for the opportunity.

My sister, sensing that this was part of the massage, began to will herself to relax as much as possible.

With that, I began again. This time, I tried to let my fingers tell me where to rub. The years of flipping through books rather than working in the yard or playing sports had left me with very sensitive fingers. As I felt my way around, I was soon able to feel where each knot was and then nearby where soft tissue would accept the rub.

My sister was quiet at first. I wasn't sure if she was being polite and letting me practice or if I was stinking up the massage. Ten minutes in, and I had worked from the base of her neck, across her bra, and down her spine to her lower back. While I worked at her lower back, I heard her first moan.

"That spot right that. Oh that's good."

With that, she went quiet. I kept at it, giving that spot a little more pressure and attention. I worked my way back up, a little wider out from the spine this time. Again, massaging around her bra. Another ten minutes later I was working her shoulders, her neck, and then moving down to her lower back. As my confidence built, I trusted my hands more, and listened for her rare moan to know when to work something more.

"This feels really good," she broke the silence hesitantly, not wanting to break the spell. "How are your hands holding up?"

I chuckled at her intuition. "They're starting to cramp up a bit. Feel any better?"

"I actually feel quite a bit better, thanks! I mean, and don't take this wrong, but that was pretty amazing for a first attempt."

I blushed. "Thanks. Maybe I do have a backup plan in case I can't be a librarian." I meant it in a cheeky way, but the feeling of success made me tingle with pride.

My sister seemed equally convinced. "Open invitation to practice on me anytime."

-=-=-

I didn't get another chance to practice for a few more days. The library kept me busy, for a change, as we prepared for the big summer book sale. My sister got pulled into a group project that had her working late into the night.

I gently knocked on her door when I saw that her light was still on at bedtime. I heard her respond with a strained, but friendly, "come in."

I poked my head in her door to see her working away on her homework at her desk. She'd been holed up in her room the last few nights and between that and our schedules, this was the first time I'd seen her in since our first massage.

"How are you holding up?" I asked, looking at the stress creasing her face.

"Uggh, right now I'm feeling a bit rough, to be honest." She sat up a bit in her chair and stretched her arms. "Hey, do you think you could rub my neck like you did the other day? I could probably stand to take a break for a minute and that might help me push the next few hours and get this thing done."

"Sure." I replied, coming in and closing the door behind me.

She had papers everywhere, bits of hand-scribbled notes and open books.

"Sorry about the mess."

As I made my way up to her towards her, she looked back down at her notes and up again.

"Ugh," she said as I took a step closer. "Fair warning, I'm actually kinda gross. I could definitely use a shower, but first this thing needs to get done."

I nodded. Our family had a dogged protestant work ethic that wouldn't quit. That she was actually taking a short break spoke volumes about how much her neck was hurting.

"No worries. I'll do my best."

As I took my last step behind her, I could see the tension pulling her neck taut. I was also aware of her feminine smell. I had smelled it before in passing, when she'd come back from a jog, but this felt more personal. She'd been in this space enough that her smell had marked it as her own.

I warmed my hands up and then slowly began to work her neck muscles.

"You should sit up a little."

She complied and without thinking I looked down her neckline from above. As she straightened, I saw the V of her loose shirt slide down a little. Whether she was too distracted or too tired to straighten it, I wasn't sure. I continued to rub her neck and shoulders, and as I did, the V of her shirt pulled away from her chest, giving me a view underneath.

Something happened to me as I looked down at the curve of my sister's breast to where the smooth skin disappeared further under her shirt. Hormones flooded my brain. I watched transfixed as the motion would move her shirt around. At times I could clearly see her bra, white and simple, as the shirt moved. On rare occasions, her bra would also move a little, showing me tantalizing glimpses of the soft skin underneath.

I tried to focus. The intoxication of this new experience had me head-spun and either my sister was too distracted with her homework or too polite to say anything. At last, she spoke.

"Can you move your right hand just a little further forward? Yeah, right there, there's a knot."

There was a big knot, in fact. Had I been paying attention I would have noticed it without her having to tell me. I chastised myself. This was my sister, and I was trying to help, not be a peeping tom.

"Right there, yeah. Hmm, would it help if I took my bra off?" she said matter-of-factly.

"If you want me to hit that spot, it would probably be easier." I swallowed my dry throat, hoping I wouldn't be caught out.

Without a second thought, she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, pulled it off and out of her shirt, and threw it in the dirty laundry pile beside her desk.

"Better," I said, suddenly just as dizzy as before. Luckily, my voice didn't betray the rush going on in my head.

I did my best to continue, but the temptation to peek again got the better of me. I looked over her shoulder and could see my sister's nipples push against the loose cotton as my hands worked their way into her sore shoulders.

I had to look. I had to take the chance. I didn't care if I got caught. It was uncharacteristic for me, as I usually tried to be respectful, but I felt suddenly reckless.

As I rubbed, I intentionally turned my hands so that the loose cloth would gather a bit more in front. The extra slack lifted the front of the shirt as I moved.

From my position above her, I could again see the smooth curve of her breasts. I leaned a little to the side as I worked and had my first reward. Following the skin of her breasts further, as the shirt lifted up, I could see the start of her areola. My mouth went dry, but still I willed myself to keep working at the same pace. The shirt lifted up again and I saw it. My sister's bare nipple. A hard little bud nestled in pink flesh. A single small stray black hair grew at the edge of her nipple and seeing it, I was at once filled with a rush of thoughts.

My sister was a woman.

My sister was a full human. Real flesh and blood.

I was taking advantage of her.

As my conflicted feelings swarmed in my head, one thought was clear. Whether or not I should, I wanted more.

"Thanks, that's probably good for now, though I may hunt you down later for a longer one like you gave me before."

At "longer one" my mind jumped to my crotch, which had been doing its own thinking.

she finished her sentence and smiles up at me. I made sure to turn the other way so she wouldn't catch sight of the bulge, giving a nonchalant "anytime" as I closed the door behind me.

The sound of the shower turning on an hour later woke me from my post-orgasmic sleep, the smell of my jizz in the washcloth beside my bed a reminder of the protracted masturbation session I'd just completed.

-=-=-

When I awoke the next day, I wasn't sure what to think. I wanted to help my sister, but I didn't want to use her and treat her like some kind of sex object. Looking back, I was aroused thinking of images of her bare breast, but reminded that she deserved respect. And, of course, she was still my sister.

I vowed to not think about her when I masturbated again, thinking this would let me reset our relationship to a familial norm. She wasn't the one starting to act weird, and I'd be damned if I let myself turn into a creeper.

I heard a soft knock at the door, and I instinctively said "come in" before remembering the washcloth that I hadn't had time to clean up, yet. My sister didn't normally visit this early in the morning, and my fuzzy head hadn't quite kicked into gear.

She must have just woken up, too. I wasn't sure why she was up this early in the morning on a Saturday. She stepped in and mostly closed the door behind her. She crept up to my bed and I scooted over to make room. As she sat down, I noticed that she was wearing a new pair of sweatpants and another faded logo t-shirt. It was clear in the light streaming through my blinds that she wasn't wearing a bra, either.

"Thanks again for checking up on me last night. Sorry if I was a bit rude when I shoo'd you out. I just wanted to make sure I could finish the project before I passed out." She smiled at me.

I smiled back and gave my traditional "no worries" mumble, but then looked up at her. She wasn't here just to apologize about being a little abrupt. This was an unexpected visit for other purposes.

"I've been thinking that you've been nice to me this week, and now that I'm done for the weekend, I wanted to be nice in return. What do you want for breakfast?"

I chuckled a little and smiled. "Breakfast? Do I get breakfast in bed?"

She chuckled with me. "Why not? I'll go make us something and grab my laptop so we can watch silly videos while we eat."

"That sounds lovely."

My bed sprang back as she lifted her weight off and in a flash she had left my room and was pitter-pattering down the stairs. I leaned back, enjoying my good fortune. Remembering the washcloth by my bed, I got up, tossed it in my hamper, and relieved myself before snuggling back into bed.

A few minutes later, I heard my sisters footsteps coming back up the stairs. In her hands was a small foldout footstool that she'd co-opted as a makeshift "breakfast in bed" table. On it were a steaming mound of scrambled eggs with toast.

"Yum!" I said, grabbing for the table.

"Let me." She set the table on top of me and then went back downstairs, coming back with two large glasses of juice and her laptop under her arms.

She'd made more than enough eggs to share, so we ended up dividing it between us and pulling her laptop open. We fell into an easy rhythm, eating and laughing at cartoons and comic sketches she would find.

At one point I looked over at her as she laughed and caught myself enjoying the bounce of her breasts under her shirt. I thought back to last night and my forbidden knowledge. I had only just begun to realize how hard it was going to be to keep my promise.

When we had finished breakfast she sat the table to the side and snuggled into bed with me. She'd never done this before, yet it felt perfectly natural. The rest of the morning was our intermittent giggles and the warm feeling of her against me.

-=-=-

I awoke to hear my sister sharply inhaling air beside me. We must have fallen back asleep after breakfast. She looked like she had a cramp.

"Are you okay?" I asked, watching her grimace.

"I think I slept wrong." She tried to turn her back but then grimaced again.

She looked over at me sheepishly. "Sorry, it looks like I'm going to have to call on your services again. Please?" She pressed her lips together, clearly hoping I'd say yes.

I didn't say anything. Instead, I got up, pulled my sheets back so there wasn't anything in the way and patted the middle of the bed.

She carefully scooted so that she was face-down in the center of the bed and waited. My bed isn't terribly wide, but I was quickly stumped by the mechanics of trying to give a massage on it. I opted to sit beside her and work from that direction.

Again, my hands fell into a surprisingly natural rhythm as they worked over her shirt. I could feel the sore muscle spasm as my fingers rubbed across it, and I hoped for her sake that it wasn't one of those muscle strains that lasts a week before it let up.

As I worked, it was difficult to get the angle that I needed so I adjusted and turned and eventually, carefully, hooked one foot over her, anchoring my ankle against her opposite hip, hovering above her. This definitely helped, albeit a difficult position to hold for a long period of time.

The sprain was a bit low on her back. As I worked, I eventually just gave up and sat on my sister’s legs just below her butt. She didn't complain. From here I could stretch up and work on any part of her back.

I worked and worked, watching to see if she would flinch at something I did and adjusting my position or technique if something was a bit too much. Over time it started to relax, and I noticed another spot a little lower on her back that was also tense. I was starting to work on her back where her shirt ended and rather than trying to stretch it, I put my hands on her bare back instead.

She responded with a simple "that feels good" as I began, which I took as encouragement to keep going. Soon, rubbing the little patch on her back turned into rubbing most of her lower back under her shirt. The rare moan came a little more often now.

"I hate to ask, but can you go a bit lower, too?"

I looked down. I was at the edge of her sweatpants. Cautiously, I worked over top of her pants on the area just above her butt. It was all tight and immediately responded to my touch.

"Oh just like that. Yes. Please." She said, punctuating the last two words with a cute, almost flirty, warmth. As my confidence grew a little in this area I began to work a little lower, finding more taut tissue lower and beside it soft, sore spots.

"Oh right there" she said, with uncharacteristic directness. As I rubbed, a low moan lifted from her belly out her throat. Embarrassed, she tried to be quiet again, but as I worked a second moan followed the first.

I worked over her butt and then scooted down to make room to work on the backs of her legs. Her encouragement continued as I worked.

"Oh my gah... I'm going to owe you breakfast in bed for the next week after this."

I continued, working my thumbs carefully around her inner thigh and then back up her backside until I returned to her lower back. This time I straddled her ass with my thighs.

I leaned up again and did a long stroke with both hands up her bare back. As I did this, I absent-mindedly exhaled and noticed the goosebumps on her back as I sat back up.

My sister said nothing, so I did a similar stroke again, this time getting a little closer to her bare back as I lifted her shirt up with my stroke. Just before third stroke she lifted herself an almost imperceptible amount off the bed, freeing her shirt and allowing it to ride up as I went for my third pass. Again, my face came close to her bare back. I wondered for a moment how high the shirt would have to go before I could see her bare breasts again. The thought caused my heart to beat faster.

Just then, air conditioning kicked on. It hadn't occurred to me that there was a warm day outside, the reliable air conditioning keeping us at the same temperature all day, but the blowing air caused more goose bumps on her. I watched as they rose up her arms. Instinctively, I reached up to gently rub the backs of her arms to warm them back up.

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