My Sister's Spa

Gina needs money for college. She calls Kenzie into the living room and lays out her plan: turning their house into her private massage parlor. Kenzie's eyes go wide. Strangers? In their living room? Gina shrugs it off and asks Kenzie to be her first client—just practice. Kenzie shakes her head. No way. They're sisters, Gina reminds her, and it's just a massage, nothing weird. Grudgingly, Kenzie gives in. Gina nods toward her body. "Take your clothes off." Kenzie starts to back out, but Gina promises to keep her eyes shut. She strips anyway, tense, every inch on display—flat stomach, perky tits, smooth skin. Gina catches a glance, feels her mouth go dry. Kenzie lies facedown on the table, muscles tight. The oil slides warm over Kenzie's back. Gina's hands move in slow, firm strokes, fingers pressing deep. "Feels better than I thought," Kenzie admits. Tension bleeds out. Until Gina's palms drift to the soft sides of her tits. Kenzie flinches. "Just my back. That's enough." Gina pulls back, innocent for the moment. Her hands drift lower, chasing tight hamstrings, tracing the long line of Kenzie's thighs, too close to the heat between them. "This is a full massage," Gina says. "Relax." Kenzie stays still, breathing shallow, as slick fingers slide between her folds. Pleasure curls in her belly. She should stop this. She doesn't. "If anyone finds out," Kenzie whispers, voice shaky with want, "we're fucked." Gina leans in, mouth near her ear. "Then we'll make sure they don't." Her fingers move deeper. Kenzie bites the cushion, hips twitching into her sister's palm. Their little secret now has hands and heat and no going back.