Physical Therapy With Sylvia

When I was a teenager I was good at soccer and played at a decent level as a striker for the girls' school team. When I got to college, I made it into the university girls' college team, but I overstretched myself in the tryouts and ended up injuring my back as well as pulling a muscle in my groin. The good news is I got picked for the team, but I was told to see a sports physical therapist so I could deal with my injuries before the season started in earnest. I was only 19, but already my body was showing signs of stress from my vigorous high school athletics.

The coach recommended a female sports therapist who worked a lot with students from my college. Sylvia Jewel was a good- looking woman with a slim, androgynous body. She wore her blonde hair short in a sort of Scandinavian way, and she always looked lithe and elegant in her stylish white athletic outfits. At first I was intimidated by her, but she put me at my ease by smiling in a friendly way and complimenting my physique.

"You look really fit," she said, looking me up and down. "What a great athletic figure. What's the problem?" As I explained, she sat opposite me on the sofa and, after I explained about my injury, she had me undress down to my bra and panties, and she examined me closely. Her hands were warm and experienced as she checked out my torso, hips and legs. She also touched my ass which was a surprise, and perhaps should have been a hint that something was unusual about her treatment methods.

"You surely don't wear that pretty lingerie while you're playing soccer, do you?" She enquired, and I blushed at the thought of how I must look to this highly professional woman in my pink bra and panties. Of course I should have worn my sports undies. It must have looked as if I was on a slutty date.

"You have a great body." She said, looking critically at the alignment of my arms and spine. And such nice, big breasts," she continued casually, manipulating my quad muscles quite hard as I stood in front of her, "So you should wear a proper bra that supports them."

"Yes, I've got one." I said. I could feel myself blushing at her personal comments, but she just smiled as if she found me charming.

"Next time you come, wear your sports bra so I can see how it holds you." She said. "Do you experience back pain? That can happen with large breasts."

I like the way my body looks, and I was very happy she noticed my boobs. And yes they are quite big. In fact I'm very proud of how full and firm they are. My Christian upbringing means I'm not vain but I think they compare well with any movie star's.

"Let's get a closer look at you." She said. "Take off your bra and lie down."

I obediently unhooked my bra and lay on my back on her massage table while she pulled, pushed and stretched my body. It wasn't used to being topless with a stranger like this, but it felt liberating, although her compliments were strangely inappropriate.

"Such a gorgeous body." she said, pressing one shoulder into the table to stretch my spine. It hurt, but in a good way. Her comment made me feel proud of myself, and I smiled inwardly with satisfaction.

"...and such beautiful breasts. You're very fit. Shouldn't have any trouble bouncing back from this injury, but I do want to make sure you don't put too much strain on your neck and shoulders with those boobs, which are still nice and firm, but big for an athlete."

I liked that she was complimenting me and I could almost feel my chest swelling in pride. She was, after all, a physical therapist who was used to the bodies of female athletes, so it made me proud to be compared so favorably with her other female patients. She turned me over and pulled my leg backwards, pressing her hand into my buttock as she did so. I had never been naked in front of anyone in quite this way before. But, looking back, I'm amazed that it felt so normal and so comfortable to be naked with her, even at the first visit. Also it felt fantastic to be stretched like that.

She pressed hard on my ass and pulled my leg back to stretch the quad muscle, then had me roll over to do the other leg.

"Your groin injury is here?" She queried, touching me low down on my abdomen with her fingers at the waistband of my panties. I was glad her hands were warm and gentle.

"No, it hurts here." I said, showing her the spot high up on my inner thigh, "And it spreads downwards and upward from there." She had me sit up to tense my abs, and I winced slightly in pain.

"Do you have pain in your hip and glutes?" She asked.

"Yes." I said.

She worked me hard for about half an hour, until my body was aching with the released tension. Then she said, "That was probably hard on your muscles. But now I will give you a deep tissue massage to relax you, and it will feel really good. Is that OK?"

It sounded great and I eagerly agreed.

"Roll over." She instructed, and I did so. "Let's take a look. Is it OK if I take your panties off? I can't work your hips and glutes with these little lacy things getting in the way. And I don't want to get oil all over them"

"No. that's OK." I said.

She then surprised me by unhesitatingly pulling my panties all the way down and taking them completely off. I felt silly being shocked at her boldness. After all, she was a professional. But I could feel myself reddening with embarrassment at my nudity. I was lying on my front and I felt very exposed lying there with my bottom bared. Once again, she showed no discomfort whatsoever, and her professional attitude helped me to relax.

She reached for a triangular foam bar from her bench and had me lift up so she could slide it under my hips. This had the awkward effect of thrusting my bare bottom upwards. It felt as if my cheeks were opened up in this position, and I was conscious that my private parts were completely exposed to her gaze. But obviously she was a medical therapist who knew what she was doing, so I tried not to dwell on the strange intimacy of my indecent state. From her bench, she took a white towel which she carefully folded -- way too slowly. Hurry up and cover me I thought. Then she placed the dry, warm cotton over my naked behind. It was pleasant, but still I felt very naked as I lay there waiting for her to touch me. I could smell the fragrance of the oil she used to lubricate her hands.

She started firmly massaging my spine, beginning at my shoulder blades and pressing my vertebrae as she worked her way down my bare back to where the white towel covered my modesty. It felt incredible. She stopped to apply more oil, then started at my neck again, making me grunt as she pressed down firmly, compressing my lungs so I breathed out as she did so. She was very strong. It felt good to be manipulated so expertly. She was working all the kinks out of my spine.

"Let's get started on your glutes," she said.

"Mmm-mm." I responded as I felt her hands moving down my hips and underneath the towel to grip and press my buttocks hard. It was painful at first, but she knew what she was doing. The towel must have slipped by itself onto the floor, because I was soon conscious of being completely nude under her professional touch and at the mercy of her expert massage technique. Her hands were moving freely over my bottom, and it felt fantastic. She poured plenty of massage oil on my skin, so it trickled down into my butt crack, then her incredible hands worked their way mercilessly down my back muscles and glutes, her strong thumbs pressing into my bare ass cheeks and down my sore thighs, manipulating my hamstrings until they glowed with all the attention. A delicious tingling was spreading through me and I was ashamed to realize I was starting to feel aroused.

"You really do have a beautiful behind..." She said quietly, almost to herself, as she slid her flat hands slid up over my bare cheeks, massaging them fully. Her fingers unashamedly dipped in between the cheeks of my bottom. "A lovely ass in fact."

Her fingers delved deeply into my gluteus muscles, then she vigorously smoothed oil over my ass cheeks before repeating the deep massage technique. She even worked her fingers into the hot, intimate depths between my buttocks, making me gasp.

I was very relaxed as she worked my body, but her comment about my ass lingered in my head and seemed a bit out of place. It was too intimate for a physical therapist, and I was uncomfortable at the personal comment, even though I very much liked being complimented by her. I loved that she had been so positive about my physique, and I reveled in the pride of being naked and admired by her.

But I was also horrified at the thought that maybe the team therapist was a lesbian. There I was, lying completely naked and at the mercy of a woman who might have lesbian desires for me. But then I relaxed again under the touch of her warm hands -- alternating between gentle and firm -- which put me at my ease. I started to doze off, enjoying the feel of her wonderful, gentle hands caressing my back, thighs and buttocks.

"Roll over onto your back and let's have a go at that groin muscle." She said suddenly, waking me up out of my pleasure-induced slumber. I did as she instructed, and she moved the foam support down to the back of my knees. I had forgotten about my nakedness, but was reminded of it when she gently but insistently put my legs where she wanted them and arranged my arms by my sides. I was very aware of being completely naked for her now, and looked at her as her gaze raked my nudity. She smiled at me.

"Beautiful breasts," she said, with a warm smile. I felt nervous. I was happy that she was admiring my boobs. But the idea of being touched another woman who might be a lesbian felt wrong. Very wrong. I'm a devout Christian and I know that gay people are bad, and any homosexual thoughts are sinful. Once again she took her time as she folded a warm, dry towel to place over my loins, but not before she had plenty of time to look at my exposed sex. I was conscious of my breasts being naked as she worked on my legs. My face was flushed and I was breathing hard, but I tried to think about my soccer moves to take my mind off how sinful it was that I was experiencing pleasure from her ministrations. She liberally oiled my upper thighs and diligently worked my quads and hip flexors. Her fingers were very close to my pussy but when I looked at her, she kept her gaze professional. I could feel my nipples hardening. I was sorry when the end of the session came.

"You will feel tired after the deep tissue massage." She told me as I dressed to leave. She was sitting on the sofa watching me and I was embarrassed that her lacy panties were visible under her tight white skirt. She looked relaxed with her legs slightly parted, but from the start with Sylvia, things that would be embarrassing elsewhere seemed normal. She didn't seem at all self-conscious about her pretty white panties being on view to her new patient.

Afterwards, my body felt amazing, and I went back to my dorm tingling all over. I felt so sleepy and sexy. My room-mate was out, and I was completely exhausted. Sylvia had predicted that the session would make me tired and she was right. But she didn't tell me it would also leave me feeling extremely aroused sexually. I dragged myself into bed and lay on my front. My body tingled because I was so turned on. I started to touch myself, sliding my fingers up between my legs. I couldn't believe how wet I was and how much I wanted to masturbate. I know masturbation is a sin, but I couldn't help myself. Feeling very guilty but very excited, I pleasured myself quietly, amazed at the responsiveness of my body, then I fell into a deep sleep after a delicious orgasm.

The next day I woke up feeling great, but I resolved not to go back to Sylvia Jewel. I was very uncomfortable with the intimate comments she had made about my body, and was horrified at the thought that she might be a lesbian. I asked Laci, one of the other girls who had been to see Sylvia, what she thought. "Hey, do you think she's a lesbian?"

"A lesbian? No. She's a sports coach -- she's supposed to touch your body. Why ever would you think that?" She replied. But in the back of my mind, I had a feeling Laci was wrong. I hadn't had any encounters with a lesbian that I knew of before, but the very thought filled me with dread and shame. From my church I knew that lesbians were dirty, sinful women who must be shunned.

However, there was no denying that Sylvia knew her trade. The next day my groin felt much better and my back was completely fixed. I went to practice and couldn't believe how supple and energetic I felt. I ran hard and fast and scored six goals in practice, against our best goalie. Sylvia was a miracle worker, although I could still feel the muscles in my groin and hamstrings complaining again after the heavy exercise. Wanting some more of her magic, I decided not to tell my team-mates about my reservations about Ms. Jewel, and I duly kept my appointment with her two days later.

As before, she made me feel completely at home as soon as I walked into her therapy room. It smelled pleasantly of fragrant oils and warm towels. She was wearing tight black athletic pants and a zip-up top that displayed her cleavage. I couldn't help but admire her body. I noticed again what a strong, slender figure she had -- the body of an athlete who took care of herself. I wanted to be like that when I was her age, although my body was much curvier than hers. I knew she expected me to undress, so hesitantly I took off my clothes. I felt OK about it, since she had seen my bare boobs already, so I stripped all the way down to my panties with only a slight hesitation and stood topless in front of her as she appraised me. I had worn my best pink sports bra, and she made me put it back on so she could examine the way it fitted.

She watched closely as I pulled it down and tucked my breasts inside, one at a time. My nipples swelled and got stiff under her gaze, which made me redden with embarrassment.

"You have beautiful big, breasts," she said. "So you must look after them. It's very important that this fits you and holds you well," she said, helping to fit it, then she stepped behind me and cupped my boobs from behind in her confident, strong hands. Again, I found myself responding positively to her compliments, pleased that she liked my body. But I instinctively flinched when she held my boobs in her hands.

"Don't be alarmed, I'm just feeling for the way they support the weight of your breasts," she said, holding them in both hands and pushing them up. I told myself that I should let her touch me freely because she's a sports therapist, but I had the sudden queasy feeling again that she might be a lesbian. The thought made me very uncomfortable but at the same time I couldn't deny the intriguing curiosity it aroused in me.

"Yes, this is good, it's a good bra. Do you see how it fits you here?" She came round to the front and slid her hands under my armpits. It felt somehow very naughty, even though it was a legitimate procedure.

"Now slip off your top again and get up on the table," she said.

My nervousness at her inappropriate intimacy dissipated immediately when she fixed me with her big blue eyes and her warm smile. Her Scandinavian looks made me think her eyes were the color of an iceberg, although I'd never seen one. She was beautiful, I had to admit. The way she looked at me made my body respond with a warm tingly buzz which I liked. I was allowing her to see my bare breasts with more confidence this time. I lay on my back and she worked my muscles perfectly. At one point she had my leg in her strong hands with her elbow pressed hard up against the crotch of my panties. It felt strange but I couldn't seem to break the spell to say anything.

As before, once she had finished the physical therapy, she asked if I wanted a massage. Guiltily I admitted that I did. Very much. Like last time, she took my panties off and I lay down for her in the nude. I watched as she liberally oiled her hands and then my body.

"Such nice breasts." She murmured as her hands freely roamed over my body. I loved how she made me feel beautiful, and the way she continually complimented my body. Perhaps because of this, I didn't object when her hands slid up my torso to cup my boobs. It felt intimate but at the same time it was very pleasant. I was enjoying her touch far too much, even though I knew I shouldn't.

I realized that she had subtly changed from physical therapist to masseuse, and she was very, very good at it. Now, as she massaged my front, she slid her hands all the way up to cup my breasts and massage them fully in both hands. It felt amazing. I couldn't admit it to myself then, but she got me extremely turned on and I loved it, even though I was embarrassed that I was getting wet between my legs. She made me feel so good and so sexy. I had never felt like that before. Sylvia had a way about her that made me feel proud of my body, and somehow being naked in front of her was a guilty pleasure rather than a sin, and I suppressed the shame I felt at my surging feelings. I could hardly wait to go home afterwards and fall into bed -- still smelling of the massage oils -- to pleasure myself to orgasm and fall into a dreamy, sexy sleep.

I went to see Sylvia every week -- sometimes more than once a week -- throughout the soccer season. She helped me work with my insurance to minimize the cost. She always remained very professional, but she gradually took more and more liberties with my body, and I'm ashamed to say I let her, never once questioning the increasing intimacy between us. I looked forward to the sessions so much. I was getting drawn into the sinful pleasures she gave me and couldn't stop. I enjoyed it far too much. On each occasion I could hardly wait for the second half of the session -- after the sports therapy -- when she massaged my naked body thoroughly with warm oil.

I knew by now of course that she must be a lesbian but I somehow justified to myself that her professional attention was necessary to my athletic success, and put it out of my mind. She was a skillful therapist, and couldn't help it if she was attracted to athletic young girls like me, I told myself. I liked the feeling of being pretty and I loved how my body looked now that I was through with puberty. I had sexy curves now, and it felt nice to undress in front of her and let her see me in the nude. I enjoyed her compliments. I have to confess that I basked in her admiration. And it secretly turned me on.

So I kept seeing Sylvia even as the intimacy increased, until on one occasion, after several weeks of therapy, I became so sexually aroused I had an orgasm right on the table.

Her hands were massaging dangerously close to my sex, but, instead of complaining, I closed my eyes and parted my legs, sighing deeply at the incredible magic she was doing to me. The low simmering heat in my core that I always felt with Sylvia was transmitting itself directly to my tingling pussy, which was becoming hot and slick. Nobody had ever touched me like this before. She stood at my feet, in between my parted legs, with her palms on the front of my hips, massaging very low down on my bikini line, while her thumbs slipped down into the oiled valleys each side of my vulva. She caressed me there intimately but so beautifully, repeatedly stroking up and down the lips of my vagina until I thought I would go crazy with the incredible sensations that were building. I could hardly breathe but I didn't want her to stop so I didn't dare move. She was somehow feathering her fingertips over my clitoris. Suddenly I had that amazing feeling I get when I masturbate. The delicious, pleasurable sensation of sexual arousal grew and grew until I thought something would burst. I could hardly stand it. I started to pant and I knew I was going to come. I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to. Nothing prepared me for the intensity of what she was doing to me, and the amazing way the feeling mounted, building more and more until I cried out in uncontrolled passion. My whole body flexed involuntarily, and I could feel my pussy pulsing again and again, as the intense orgasm overtook me. It was no good pretending she hadn't noticed. When I opened my eyes she was looking at me with a big, warm smile.