All characters engaged in sexual activities are over the age of eighteen and products of the author's imagination.
Doing the laundry has never been one of my favorite chores. However, I had to do it that morning since I had plans for the evening. When I approached the laundry room with a hamper full of dirty clothes, my sister was already there, unloading a load of her clothes from the washing machine.
"I'll be finished with this in just a minute." She said, acknowledging my presence with a smile.
I dropped the hamper full of dirty clothes on the floor and waited for my younger sister, Mila, to finish unloading the laundry. Unlike me, Mila took a piece of clothing at a time out of the washer basket, shook it gently, and then threw it into the dryer. Then, she took a mesh laundry bag and removed her undergarments one at a time, separating her bras from the others, such as panties, and hung her bras on a hanger to air dry.
"Hey, I don't have the whole day here.... Hurry up, Mila!" I became impatient.
"I don't have the whole day either, Liam. Mom is waiting for me to go out. I am almost done here. "She said, sticking her tongue out playfully, her eyes twinkling.
"Where are you two going?" I asked casually, with no choice but to wait until Mila had completed her usual ritual of unloading her clothes.
"Massage... Mom has a gift certificate for a couple's massage, but Dad doesn't want to go. So, I get to have a full-body massage." She bragged, carefully placing another bra on the hanger to air dry.
Glancing at the bra with a small cup, I couldn't help but utter, "You need a breast massage for sure." And mocked.
"WHAT?"
"A breast massage, Mila, a breast massage to make those things of yours a bit bigger." I joked and laughed.
She frowned and said, "They are big enough, and I am happy with them." Then she paused for a moment looking at my face, and swiftly pushed me away as she walked off the room, saying, "Maybe you should get a pecker massage to get your tiny thing bigger."
"No girl has complained about my size, Mila, no one." I chuckled, slapping her soft buttocks, although I meant to tap her back. Turning around at a safe distance, Mila stuck her tongue out again and walked away.
Mila, my younger sister, is about fourteen months younger than I am. She had just graduated from high school and was waiting for the fall semester to start at my junior college, where she would begin her next chapter in life. Meanwhile, Mila joined a fast-food restaurant for the summer, and I continued working part-time at a grocery store.
While in high school, she participated in swimming and soccer. Our mom enrolled her in dancing and piano lessons several evenings a week to fill her schedule to the fullest, just like they had done with me during my high school years. I was also a member of the school's swimming team, played ice hockey, and was a member of the Boy Scouts. Our parents thought keeping children busy was the best way to keep them out of trouble.
Mila had a very athletic frame despite standing only 5'4". She had long, well-toned legs for her height, lovely globular buttocks, broad shoulders, and an angelic face that begged for second and third looks of appreciation.
She was also the sister that I grew up with, and she was a buddy with a good sense of humor. Together, we outgrew pillow fights, climbing and jumping off trees, bicycle races, fighting for the swing set, and playing in the outdoor monkey bars as we aged. Very close body contact during horseplay was common, yet innocent and non-sexual in nature. Even after we turned eighteen, I still enjoyed hanging around together, teasing and joking, etc., and maintained the relationship we enjoyed over the years as siblings.
Teasing about her breasts was new. It may have begun after I overheard Mila talking with her mom about the difficulty finding bras that fit her sometime after her 18
th
birthday party. What struck me was not her concern about finding fitting bras but her worry about what covers bras or the lack of their mass.
Soon after, I realized I was paying more attention to her breasts. It is not like I hadn't paid attention to the rest of her body before, or wished that I could get laid by a girl who was as good-looking as Mila was. I knew she always had her breasts, and they were just there, but I had no good reason to pay extra attention to them except to appreciate what a good-looking girl she was. As I scrutinized them anyway, I never thought Mila's breasts were too small for the rest of her figure. They looked firm, perky, and slightly over a handful, but they were ideally suited for her athletic figure. A figure that I would love to explore until I can explode... all over her.
The next day, when we passed each other down the hallway, I made a point of stopping to ask how her breast massage was the day before with a chuckle.
"Oh, it was perfect. Don't you see they are a bit bigger already today?" She gave a teasing smile and thrust her chest forward.
"They look a little mushy, though." I teased back and poked a finger at her left breast, and she swiftly slapped my hand.
"Hope you had time to massage your pecker while we were gone to make it bigger." Mila hit back as she walked past me.
"There was no need for that. It gets bigger when it needs to." I said as I headed to my room.
"I don't know about that... Unlike my breasts, your thing is hardly even noticeable. Maybe, you should get a pecker massage to help it grow to manhood." Mila said, chuckled, and continued walking. I stopped in my tracks, turned, and hurried to chase Mila down to the living room, where she was getting ready to turn on the TV with a remote control. Instantly, she knew I was trying to harass her for her comments one way or the other. She made a feeble attempt to get away, but I swiftly grabbed her by the hand. Mila didn't try to break free from my grasp, fully understanding that I wouldn't hurt her. She giggled, weakly pulling her hand from my grip. "Let me go..." She chortled.
Listen, I don't have a problem with my size. I am happy with it, and no one has complained about it. You, on the other hand, want your breasts to be bigger, right?' I asked, chuckling along with her.
"Said the guy with a small pecker." Milla broke into a laugh that echoed through the room. The sound was infectious, causing even me to crack into a smile.
"If you are not my sister, I would have you measure it to your heart's content. I bet you'll be very happy with my size." I chuckled.
"Well, if you are not my brother, I would measure it and prove that you need massage therapy to get a man's pecker." She hit me back with her words and incessant giggles.
"Go ahead, I'll forget for a moment that you are my sister and let you measure my dick so that you can find the size firsthand. As for you, I can see your size." As I said that, I let her hand go and, without even thinking, reached and softly cuddled her left breast.
"HEY!" Mila protested weakly.
If you prefer natural breast enlargement and don't want implants, check out breast massage therapy on the web." I said. However, I had never done any research on the topic or known anything about breast massage therapy. However, I knew enough to realize that the internet would likely have something to support any theory or treatment.
"Hmmm... I don't know. Maybe I'll check," Mila said somewhat hesitantly.
I wasn't sure even why, but I was thrilled to hear that Mila would at least consider an organic method of developing the mass of her breasts. For some unknown reason, it excited me that impure thoughts began to occupy my thoughts. My brain fired up, drawing images of twin peaks under the palms of my hands, gently rubbing and caressing them.
I rushed to my computer, opened the browser, and searched for breast massage therapy. I was surprised by the number of hits I received. I read through many and copied the URLs of several that I found interesting and supportive of what I told Mila. On a particular page, it described how to massage breasts to increase their vastness and suggested that one should go braless as often as possible if the person is younger than 30. Apparently, for the article's author, staying braless helps them develop faster for younger females. It is also recommended to place a damp, hot towel on the breasts, apply an ointment suitable for the person, and massage them in a circular, inward motion. I was overjoyed.
The next couple of days were uneventful. I purposely evaded any horseplay or teasing of Mila. However, I fuzzily noticed her blushing a few times when our eyes met. I was doubtful that my sister would be tense or blush, and that, in a way, revealed to me that she had at least taken the time to look at the websites I sent her. Then, one afternoon when we were both home, I saw her watching TV, wearing loose shorts and a tight-fitting T-shirt. What she had on or what she was doing didn't surprise me. What surprised me was seeing a pair of nipples poking her top. My jaw dropped, realizing Mila was braless, which was probably the first time I noticed her without a bra at midday. That very same day, when she came to the dining table with the family, she had the same outfit, plus a bra, an outline of which was visible under her t-shirt.
I wondered whether she actively followed the instructions in the article I sent. If she were, what perks would I have, anyway? I hope there might be something, but it may not be what I'm looking for.
During the next few days, I noticed that Mila would hang around the house braless when the parents went to work. Either she would remain in her pajamas longer than usual or wear her everyday home attire, loose shorts, and a T-shirt, minus the bra. While we chatted about various things when we were home together, I refrained from picking on her or asking if she had considered breast therapy.
Then, one day, when I accidentally found a bottle of fenugreek oil in the bathroom's medicine cabinet, it reminded me of a web page I had sent her, which recommended the oil for massaging breasts to promote development. I became curious more than ever if Mila was not only hanging around braless but if she was applying oil to massage her breasts. I couldn't help but visualize her standing in the bathroom and using the oil on her tits and massaging them slowly. I equally wondered if she ever got horny when she rubbed herself. I got an instant hardon...
The next time I caught Mila alone in the kitchen, standing by the sink and washing dishes our parents left before heading to work, I decided to bring up the topic.
"Ahem...Someone is up early today!" I said to get Mila's attention while taking an eyeful of her spherical buttocks that were pointed toward me as she washed. The pajama shorts she had on didn't hide the contours of her marvelous buttocks, and I was quick to spot that her matching pajama top had nothing underneath it.
"Hey, Liam," Mila said without stopping what she was doing or looking my way.
"Do you have work today?"
