Blood is Thicker than Water, and Cum is Thicker than Blood
I had recently moved in with my niece, Renée, after separating from my wife. Renée was recently separated from her husband as well, so since we were both on the down and out so to speak, she had invited me to move in with her to help with the mortgage and to make her feel more protected at the same time.
I hadn't met Renée until she was 16, due to divorce issues, but we had developed a strong bond, possibly because we were both adults and we both modeled. She was now close to 30, and bore a startling resemblance to 1980's actress, Robin Matheson, with dirty blonde hair.
Renée's breasts weren't very big, perhaps a strong B cup, but they seemed to be rather firm, particularly for her age. She was constantly making references to them, however, about how small she felt they were. The only time she had seemed content with her tits was after the baby was born, and they swelled with milk. Renée subsequently complained to me that this left them with stretch marks after she stopped nursing.
Yep, that was the kind of relationship we had; we talked about such things, as though we were high school chums. It never occurred to me that we were actually flirting, in a strange sort of way. We just seemed to be really close, and talked about dirty little things.
One evening, as I was preparing to go to bed, I heard what sounded like soft crying coming from Renée's bedroom. Assuming she was upset with something regarding her ex, I decided to check on her. Clad only in my underwear, as I was ready for bed, I stuck my head in her door and whispered, "Are you okay?"
Renée didn't reply immediately, so I entered her room out of concern and repeated my question.
"Are you okay, Sweetie?" I inquired again.
"No." Renée sobbed. "My head hurts so bad!"
"Did you take something for it?" I asked rather stupidly.
"Yes." Renée wailed, "About fifteen minutes ago. I can't believe how bad it hurts!"
"Okay Sweetie," I said soothingly, "just try to relax. Here, let me try and loosen up your neck muscles, okay?"
"Okay." Renée replied, as I slid my hands under her neck and began working the muscles with my fingers.
I massaged her neck from her shoulders to the back of her head for several minutes, and then instructed her to turn sideways on the bed. Grasping her firmly under the jaw, I slowly pulled on her head, and then gave a sharp tug, which resulted in a series of loud pops, like a flexible straw opening up.
Renée grunted in surprise at the popping in her neck.
"That feels so much better!" she exclaimed.
"I'm sure it does," I replied, "but the muscles will pull it right back. I've fixed the symptoms, but the root of the problem is in your back."
"What do you mean?" Renée inquired.
"Your head is connected to your neck, which is in turn, connected to your back." I explained. "Your back muscles are actually pulling on your neck, which is giving you these headaches."
"Can you fix it?" Renée begged. "Can you stop the pain?"
"I think so." I responded. "I need to work the muscles in your back, so I need you to turn over."
"Is my nightgown in the way?" Renée asked. "Do I need to take it off?"
What a question! I know she probably didn't mean it the way it came across, but I was still stunned for a second or so.
"It would help." I replied. "I can really work the muscles that way."
Renée sat up and pulled the nightgown over her head, tossing it to the floor. In the dim light, I could barely make out the shape of her tits, and I suddenly felt a strong sensation in my loins. I ignored it, and began kneading her back muscles as she rolled over on her stomach.
It took a few minutes of probing with my elbow, but I finally located the source of her pain and worked the muscles for several minutes.
"I can't believe how my back can give me such a headache." Renée whispered.
"It's all stress-related." I explained. "I really don't have the time to detail how it all connects, but your angst over your situation with Ron is causing you to tense up, and the result is a headache like this."
