It was a Thursday afternoon, first semester of my junior year of college. I remember it was Thursday because my programming professor always gave us our tests on Friday, and I intended to study, but as I entered my apartment, it became clear that my roommate had other ideas.

There was a weird table set up that took up most of the space in the common area, the lights were turned down, and there was some aroma therapy smell permeating the air. "What the hell is this?"

"I'm trying to make my mom happy," he replied.

"You gonna give her a happy ending or something, dude? That's messed up!"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, NO!"

"Then, what? She giving you one?"

He took a swipe at me that time, barely grazed my bicep, and I slipped beneath, wrapped my arms around him and took his back. He was still looking for me in front of him when I tightened my forearm and bicep against his neck. All that BJJ my parents had taken me to came in handy sometimes. I let him go and popped his stomach, "better come prepared next time, man!" He shook his head and chuckled a little.

"Seriously, what the hell is this?" I asked again.

"My little sister is coming by to pick this thing up. I've been assembling it all afternoon for her. Guess that's what you get for buying a massage table from Amazon."

"Your sister? Did I know you had a sister? "

"It's the picture hanging on the fridge, goob! She's the one standing there with ME and MY parents."

"What is she, like 12? She's starting early, huh?"

He started to shake his head and then the phone rang. He answered, and a couple of "yeahs" later, he hung up. "I've gotta run for a bit. Will you be here to let her in? Maybe help her load it?"

"Yeah, I'll give the little sis a hand, bud."

He grabbed his keys and headed out.

He'd only been gone maybe 10 minutes when I heard a knock at the door. I had already slipped into some gray sweats and a rash guard in preparation for an evening of study. I opened the door expecting to see a 15 year old and her mom, but was met instead by a goddess. This couldn't be the sister.

"Can I help you?" as I took in her shoulder length brown hair, her green cami that hugged her well-proportioned curves, and her daisy-dukes that revealed every inch of her shapely legs.

"Yeah, my brother said you'd help me with that table," the words pouring out over shimmering supple lips beneath a cute nose and dark brown eyes that would swallow your soul.

"Oh, of course," I stammered. "I wasn't expecting," looking her up and down, "YOU ...uh... this early, I mean." That was a close one, I reassured myself not really believing she hadn't noticed. Internal face-palm.

"Yeah, so come in and let's figure out how to pack this thing up."

She stepped through the door and around the table, "doesn't look all that sturdy. Do you think it's put together right?"

"You want me to hop on? I'm nearly 200 lbs. How big a client are you expecting?"

"Would you mind terribly?" she asked.

I had only had a massage once at that point, but I knew the procedure. So, I hopped up on the table face down and got comfy. "This isn't half bad," I said. She reached down and tried to wiggle the table by its side. When it barely budged, she grabbed a leg and repeated the shaking. "Not bad," she proclaimed.

I was about to roll myself off the table when I felt her hands on my back. "Hold still one sec." She replaced her hands with an elbow and began to lean into the muscle just below my shoulder blade. "That works... let me try one more thing." She threw her knee over my back and sat down on my hamstrings.

"Is this a normal part of your therapy?"

"It is. Sometimes I even stand on the client. Would you mind if I tried that with you?"

"Go for it!"

Without hesitation, she kicked off her shoes and began to position her bare feet on my upper back.... or attempt to, at least. Her feet kept slipping down as my shirt moved freely between our skin. She paused. "Do you think you'd mind taking that off so I can give this a thorough trial?"

I agreed and she slipped her fingers beneath the tail of my shirt and helped it over my head. There was a brief pause and then I felt her fingertips tracing the muscles in my back all the way down to my sweats. A little pause as she lingered just above the waistband, "these too? May as well get the full experience.... if you're ok with a massage?"

I lifted my head and tilted around to meet her gaze. "I've only had 1 but I'm up for another. It's just.... what if your brother comes back and finds me naked under a towel with his sister?"

She chuckled. "Well, first, he went to meet a guy about a Jeep he's interested in. He'll be gone at least 3 hours. And second, I didn't bring my massage coverup." She shrugged.

Is she serious? No way I was missing out on the opportunity. "Then, let's go for it. Just make sure to lock and chain the door. That'll buy me a few minutes to escape out the back window if he does return." She grinned.

"Deal!"

She went to lock the door and I crawled onto my knees to peel the sweats off. She turned around just as the waistband slipped down my thighs leaving my semi-aroused cock dangling outside the fabric. She never flinched. Just stood there taking in the view. Realizing she wasn't bothered by my exposure, I leaned on one side and slipped the pants on down and off my ankles, dropping them to the floor. Then, back down onto the table, making certain to adjust my cock so that it lay down between my legs rather than against my stomach.

She stepped over and slid her hand up the back of my thigh and slapped my ass cheek. "You ready?"

"Give it to me, babe!"

She began with my back and neck, her soft hands gently kneeding my muscles to warm them up. After a few moments, she began to alternate between the butt of her palm and her elbow to get the tight spots to loosen. She spent a good while on my back and then began to work her way down my legs.

The massage was actually, quite good. She made sure to locate and "break up" all of the tight spots, but as she worked my hamstrings, her fingertips crept lower and lower between my thighs. I couldn't be sure whether it was intentional, but I wanted to encourage her to go lower. I readjusted on the table as she moved toward my glutes, lifting my hips off the table slightly, and then spreading my legs a little further apart. The mere knowledge that I had just exposed my cock a little more to here made it pulse, quickening the blood flow, and swelling its size again.

She responded by sliding her hands back down from my glutes but passing her fingertips over the tip of my cock ever so lightly. More swelling for me, and the need to readjust again. I knew we were both on the same page now as she brought her hand back up toward my glutes, this time brushing her fingertips along the entire length of my dick. I stiffened to my full length and girth. She released a little noise as she noticed. "You enjoying your massage, sir?" she purred.

"I think you are well aware of my enjoyment factor, miss."

She giggled. "Yes, sir, you're showing plenty of enjoyment..... but I'd like to try one more technique on you to see just how much I can get out of you. Would that be ok?"

"I'm 100% in your hands, hon."

With that, she brushed her fingers slowly along the length of my cock and balls, but cupped my ass as she reached the top, leading me to rise up onto my knees a little, lifting my hips from the table. "Mhmmm," she urged as she repeated the motion. I responded by lifting my ass further into the air so that I was essentially "face down ass up". This seemed to be the desired position as she didn't hesitate to caress my inner thigh on her way up to my shaft and balls.

She cupped the balls in her right hand and then reached her left around the front of my leg to wrap her fingers around my erection. She started with long, slow strokes, sliding my foreskin up and down the shaft. Each pass had me holding my breath as she reached the end of the stroke. I was aching, but she kept her movements steady and slow as if she knew exactly the speed that would make me blow all over her table and was dialing it back just beneath.

Honestly, I didn't want her to stop. I love a good edging, and she was really working me over in that manner. After what had to be 10 minutes, she released my dick and moved around to the end of the table. I wasn't able to see her, and couldn't tell what she was doing until I felt the table jar. Was she climbing on with me?

My question was answered in short order as the table movement stopped and then I felt something moist and firm lap against my frenulum. The sensation almost made me lose my load but I tightened my body and waited. I could sense her smirking as she released a little giggle at my response.

She gave me a second to recover and then wrapped her lips around my swollen member, sliding her mouth all the way up my shaft until my balls were against her chin. She reversed the movement and repeated... it only took about 5 more passes before she had me tightening up again. This time, she didn't relent. She milked my cock with her mouth a couple more times until I released my load. She gulped down almost every drop, allowing only a trickle to escape the corner of her mouth which she slurped up once she had swallowed the rest.

"That was big," she said once she'd collected herself.

"You pulled it out of me with your excellent massage skills, miss."

"Well, yes, but I wasn't only talking about the load.... you think I might try that thing on for size, sir?"

"You most certainly can, miss."