A Spring Mourning

Growing up with a best friend like Chase was everything a guy could have hoped for. Throughout our teenage years, Chase's place had been the number one hangout for our group of friends. Chase's dad had divorced before they moved to Barrington and he worked two jobs to make ends meet. Because his dad was virtually never home, we had a place we could go with no supervision. This meant unlimited access to cable TV, Coca cola and an occasionally foray into dad's stash of dirty movies and magazines.

They lived in a nice home with Chase's sister Mary. Mary was 2 years younger than Chase and a year younger than me. Growing up, she was always a thorn in our plans. She was a bit of a tom boy and always wanted to hang with the guys. We usually had to let her come along on whatever we were doing just to avoid her being a tattle tale when dad came home from work. Keeping her in the fold served us well over the years and when Chase and I moved on community college, Chase's place continued to be the hang out of choice.

My first year in college, I spent most of my free time with Chase and my other college friends drinking, playing video games, watching TV and occasionally doing a little school work. Mary was still around much of the time to hang with the guys. Even though she was still senior in high school, she was 18 now and most of us figured that was good enough. She was a recreational pot smoker and occasionally brought out some of her stash for us to share which if for no other reason made most of us want to keep her around. I'm not sure if she had too many friends in school, but I think she felt like she was closer to us than any of them.

In late March of that year, I had gone by Chase's after my morning class only to find that he wasn't around. We pretty much had free reign of his house and I let myself in and plopped in front of the TV. Apparently Mary's high school was on spring break, so when she moped down the stairs rubbing the sleep from her eyes, I was surprised but happy to have her company. Even fresh out of bed, I was always shocked how the uncoordinated and just a little bit chubby Mary had grown up to be a very sexy young woman. I remembered thinking when we were in junior high that part of the reason that she might like spending time with the guys was because she looked more like one of the guys. Of course, she was just a late bloomer and when puberty finally hit she ended up with some nice curves and large firm breasts that suited her frame nicely. I'm sure I wasn't the only one to notice, but Mary was more like a sister than a real girl, so I never really thought of her in "that way."

Mary and I chatted while a re-run of Road Rules filled the background from the TV. She had obviously just gotten up when she heard me downstairs. Her hair was a mess, a little big greasy and matted from sleeping. She was still wearing sweat pants and a ratty white t-shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra and I caught myself more than once staring at the outline of her bare breasts pressing up against the cotton fabric. I could just make out the shape of her nipples where the slightly darker area of her areolas showed through the shirt. I think she caught me starting at one point and I interrupted the uncomfortable silence with a bold inquiry.

"Is it OK if I use your bathroom?"

"Sure," she responded, a sneaky smile on her lips telling me that I was totally busted, "but the toilet down here isn't working, so you'll have to use the one upstairs."

"OK." I said as I got up and bounded up the stairs. Hopefully she didn't notice my red face.

The upstairs bathroom was really more of a shared master bathroom. There were two doors on opposite ends of the room, one leading into Mary's bedroom and the other into her dad's bedroom. I went in via the door that was through Mary's room and it immediately obvious that she normally had exclusive access to this bathroom. The sink top was covered with all sorts of lotions, make-up, brushes and hair products. Piled up in front of the door to her dad's room was several days' worth of dirty laundry. As I stood there taking care of my business, my mind wandered to images of Mary's breasts in her opaque white t-shirt. I thought about how much I would enjoy peeling back her shirt and taking her firm breasts into my hands. I wondered what kind of nipples she had. Were they the little pencil eraser type or they bigger like finger tips? I was sure I'd never find out, but it was fun to think about. I shook off the fog and focused on the task at hand as I found I had started to develop a slight hard on that was affecting my aim.

After finishing in the bathroom, I washed up and headed back out into Mary's room. Just outside the door, up against the wall to the right of the bathroom entrance was Mary's dresser. The top drawer was open and her panties were piled randomly inside it. My dirty thoughts about Mary today wouldn't let me pass up this opportunity for a little window shopping. I grabbed the first pair right off the top. They were plain blue lycra hip huggers. As I held them out I couldn't believe Mary, or anyone over the age of 5 would even fit in them. I brought them up to my nose to take a whiff and was a little disappointed to find they just smelled like fabric softener. I tossed the hip huggers back in and moved on to a cute little red thong. The front satin fabric was edged with some lace that stopped just behind where the cotton patch ended and met with the string that spent its time nestled between Mary's cheeks. I started to get hard again as I imagined her wearing that lacy little number and slowly stripping it off for me. I tossed it back into a drawer as well and decided I better stop snooping before I got busted again today.

I headed back down to the living room where Mary was just where I left her. She was staring blankly at the TV when I entered the room and sat down. My erection had mostly subsided, but my desire for Mary had taken an unexpected upturn. Not wanting to dwell too much on the many ways I wanted to be intimate with Mary, I started some conversation, "What are you thinking about doing after high school?"

"I'm not really sure," she said, "but I'm probably going to end up at the community college with you guys. I've also been taking a couple of classes to get my massage therapy license."

"Really?" I replied. "I didn't know you were interested in that. Are you thinking about therapy as a career, or just a hobby?"

"Honestly, my friend Jenny talked me into it. She wanted someone to take the classes with. She's trying to work her way through college and I'm pretty sure she's doing a little special massage work on the side...if you know what I mean."

"Jenny? Really? I never would have suspected," I said, honestly surprised the Jenny who I had met several times and had come off a bit prudish in my opinion was serving the community at large with many happy endings.

"Yeah," Mary added, "I think she tries really hard to keep it separate from her real life. She's very discreet about it all."

"That's probably a good idea. So, are the classes hard?"

"No, not really," she said, "I've finished most of the preliminary stuff and a lot of the book work. I've just started working on the practical applications. I have to work several hours a week at the school's massage studio. I'm not sure I'm cut out for it as a career though. I'm really struggling with being able to give a therapeutic massage to anyone who walks through the door. I've been pretty uncomfortable with a few of my clients already and I know the school screens them for us. Who knows what I would get if I was doing it professionally."

"What didn't you like?" I inquired.

"Well," she started, "it's been hard to work on some of the men that have come in. It's really strange when they roll over and it's obvious they have a big hard on. Many of them are also very suggestive to me. I usually try and laugh it off and remind them that it's against the rules. I also find it hard to massage women. We try our best to maintain modesty, but many of the deep tissue massages focus on the thighs, back and butt and I just feel uncomfortable touching another girl there." She paused and then continued, "I'm sure I'd get used to it, but it's just another thing to have in my bag of tricks for now. I'm sure I'll at least finish the courses to apply for a license."

"Can I get a demonstration?" I asked with a big, doofy on my face.

Mary responded, "Sure, I'd be glad..." but she looked over and saw the grin on my face and finished, "...to, but I don't give happy endings. You'll have to try and find Jenny on the internet for that you sicko." We both laughed.

"But if you were serious," she added, "I'll give you a massage. You can give me some feedback on how I'm doing. I think most of the regulars at the school probably get frequent massages. I'd be curious what an infrequent flier would think."

"Well, if you're just looking for feedback," I said, "I'm sure I could accommodate."

"OK. Deal. I'm going to head upstairs and take a shower and put some clothes on. In case you haven't noticed I rolled out of bed when you let yourself in. I'll get you when I'm ready."

Mary got up and was facing me as she bent over to grab her slippers. Her shirt hung low off her neckline and I could clearly see her breasts hanging free from her chest. I think she took a little extra time before standing back up, but when she did she looked straight at me with a grin and I knew I was busted again. As she walked over to the stairs, I watched her perfectly rounded ass move with each step and I was consumed with thoughts of her butt bouncing off my hips as I penetrated her from behind. Moments later she was gone from my view and I heard the water running in the shower.

It took all of my self-control to not barge into the shower and take my chances with Mary's reaction. My stiffened rod wanted to do that and so much more, but I focused on trying to think of something else and grabbed to remote to flip through the channels. Fortunately there was an episode of COPS, which is always a good way to take your mind of things. After only one beat down by the Dallas police force they were following, I heard the water shut off and some rustling around upstairs. Just a couple of minutes later, Mary called down the stairs, "I'm ready now, why don't you come up here."

I clicked off the tube and headed upstairs again. I walked towards Mary's room and when I entered I noticed it was picked up, the drawers were closed, the closet was closed and the bed was stripped of everything but the fitted sheet. Mary stood on the far side of the bed. She was wearing a loose fitting black t-shirt and she was clearly wearing a bra now. Her breasts were pressed up and together more and I imagined the cleavage formed by her creamy skin, even if I couldn't see it now. Her shirt was tied in a knot at her waistline and she had put on black spandex shorts that showed every curve of her lower body. I tried to spot any panty lines to see if she was wearing any, but the shadows in the room prevented me from making out any details in the black fabric. Her long blond hair was still damp after being only towel dried and brushed and hung down just onto her shoulders. On the table next to her bed, there was small hot plate with a bowl filled with water warming on top. In the water sat a small bottle that I assume was some type of oil. Mary was rubbing her hands together like she was trying to warm them up.

"Strip down to your boxers and lay face down on the bed near this side," she said, pointing to the bed near the side she was standing on. "You can put the pillow under your chest and cross your arms one forearm on top of the other. You can rest your forehead on your arms."

I did as I was instructed. I heard Mary grab the bottle of oil from the warm water and open it up. A few seconds later I felt her warm hands spreading warm oil over my back. It felt great as she began to work my flesh and muscle. She worked from the base of my spine, up along the spinal column and then focused her efforts on the broad shoulders and upper back, varying pressure and technique as she moved around. I could feel the stress of life melting out of me with each kneading motion. I moaned a few times as she found several knots that required some extra work. I felt Mary climb up onto the bed and she took a position straddling my butt. She started putting her body weight into her strokes and my muscles released the last bits of tension that were remaining.

After Mary finished with my back she moved to my calves, hamstrings and butt, focusing on each major muscle group. A few of her strokes on the backs of my legs had put her hands and fingers up the legs of my boxers and stimulatingly close to my scrotum. Each time I felt a tingling sensation course through my body and I had developed a steady erection as the hot strokes of her oily hands continued to work my legs.

"Roll over," she said when she had finished with my back side.

"Um, I don't think I should," I said, embarrassed that I would reveal to her the thoughts that were floating around in my head.

"Don't be silly," she snickers, "I'm a professional."

"Well, technically you're only studying to become a professional." I conceded as I rolled over to reveal a tent in my boxers. Fortunately for me, the pattern of the fabric hid small wet spot that had formed from my pre-cum soaking through.

"Well, well, nurse. What do we have here?" Mary said, as if she were a doctor talking to a nurse. I was waiting for a laugh, but what I got was a towel covering my face.

"It'll help your situation if you can't see what I'm doing," she said, emphasizing the word "situation" and with that I felt her hands again spreading the warm oil over my chest and arms. She started with my biceps and worked her way through my shoulders to my chest. Now that I was facing up towards Mary I could smell the mixture of massage oil and the fruity soap and body wash that she used in the shower. Unfortunately her assessment of my "situation" was completely incorrect and now that I was left to picture what was going on in my mind, I had thoughts of her pulling off the towel from my face to find her straddling me, her moist sex inches from my face, waiting to be licked and probed by my tongue. I was fully erect now and I felt Mary climb onto the bed as before. She again straddled my hips as she sat down gently on my erection, flattening it against my body. She put her weight behind her strokes again and with each smooth passing of her slick hands over my chest my penis lightly brushed along between her legs. When she had finished with my chest, she moved onto my thighs and eventually finished up with my feet.

"Finished," she said as she hopped next to me on the bed. She snatched the towel from my face and tossed it on me to cover over my erect rod.

"That was great," I said, "I've never felt so relaxed in my life." As I looked over to Mary, a smiled appeared on her face, accepting the honest compliment for a job well done. Her forehead was beaded with sweat and she was breathing slightly heavy.

"You're welcome," she said as she got up from the bed. "Now get dressed and get out of here so I can get cleaned up and dressed. I don't want to be a slob when you take me out to lunch."

Mary returned to the bathroom as I got dressed and my thoughts of undressing her and making love to her slowly and deeply filled my mind. She did a great job of being professional about the whole experience, but I found it to be one of the most erotic experiences I have ever had. I treated her to lunch and we spent the afternoon hanging out with Chase, watching TV and drinking beer late into the night. When I returned home, before I could even begin to drift off to sleep, I masturbated two times to scenes played out in my mind where Mary's massages finished with her body writhing on top of my cock as I filled her with semen.

It was around a month later when both of our lives took a terrible turn. Mary had returned home from massage school late on a Thursday night to find Chase unconscious on the couch. The coffee table in front of where he was seated was littered with beer cans and a couple of empty liquor bottles. Chase was barely breathing and Mary wasn't able to rouse him. She was scared and called 9-1-1 and after the paramedics, an ambulance ride to the hospital and several hours trying to revive him, Chase died from alcohol poisoning. The news quickly spread through school and our community. I was devastated.

The following week was one of the toughest I had ever experienced. The day before the funeral I had lunch with Mary and her dad. It was a somber affair and we were all struggling with whether or not Chase's death was an accident or suicide. The funeral and burial were just as tough on everyone who knew Chase. I was mostly still in shock and even though I walked up to his body lying there in the coffin, I don't think I really believed he was gone. The following nights were mostly spent in a drunken stupor of my own, not trying to kill myself, but not ready to deal with the pain of losing one of my closest friends. I returned to school the following Monday after missing an entire week and tried to get back into the routine of my life.

Getting back to the regularity of school and work made the time pass quickly and before I knew it, it was mid-May and finals were the next week. I was lucky to have teachers who backed off on classwork the last week so I could spend extra time studying. I was still living at home with my parents and after they had both left for work on Thursday morning, I was studying hard for a chemistry final that I wasn't looking forward to taking when I was interrupted by a knock at the front door.

When I opened the door, I was shocked to see Mary standing there, as radiant as ever but with a sad look in her eyes. I invited her in and directed her to the living room. She was dressed in tight fitting jeans that flattered her figure and paired with the black 3 inch heeled pumps she was wearing, made her legs look like they went on forever. On top, she had a white, spaghetti strap tank top with a black bra that you could clearly see through the thin white fabric. Her black hair was completely straight and was longer than I remembered; now hanging down past her shoulders and onto her chest, the ends hanging just above her breasts. Her tight fitting tank top had a plunging neck line revealing just enough cleavage and a tiny bit of black lace that edged the tops of her bra cups. There was small gap of skin in between her low cut jeans and her top that revealed her milky white skin. Just above her jeans on her back was a small tattoo of a group of blue butterflies. As we sat down on the couch next to each other, I looked into her icy blue eyes that looked as if they would burst into tears any moment.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm OK I think," she replied, "it's been a hard few weeks for me and even worse for dad. How have you been doing?

"Honestly, sometimes I'm not even sure I realize he's really gone." I said. "I catch myself thinking when the phone rings it's going to be Chase, like he was just gone on vacation or something. With school and everything else that's been going on, I think maybe I'm just dealing with it slowly."

"I know what you mean," Mary said, her words trailing off as her thoughts took her somewhere else. After a short silence, she continued quietly, "Do you have something to drink?"

"Sure," I said as I started to get up, "what do you want?"

"Coke would be great," she said. It was still obvious that her mind was elsewhere as her eyes stared off out the window across the room from her. As I walked the opposite way across the room she kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs up underneath herself forcing her to plant her elbow on the armrest to prop up her body.