My first submission!
All characters are 18+
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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?"
