Incest and smut galore. Leave constructive reviews. Flames will be summarily ignored so I'd suggest trolls to stop wasting their energy as nobody shall take those into consideration. However, idiots gonna idiots. So ignore the crap and dig in.

Nineteen-year-old Eleanor Potter shut the front door behind her and listened to nothing but silence for several seconds. She was relieved to find that the house was empty. She had just gotten home from a particularly stressful day at the quidditch training, and all she wanted was a little peace and quiet, even if for a short period of time. She dropped her jacket and her wand on the table, threw her broom to the side, and padded directly up the stairs.

She entered her room, not bothering to close the door, and allowed herself to drop in one fell swoop onto her twin-size bed. Her skirt flared out from her slender legs, but her white blouse suddenly felt constricted.

"Dammit," she mumbled, lifting her head and looking at her chest. To her frustration, her breasts seemed to have grown even more in the last couple of weeks, and once again her top was too small. The material stretched across her mounds. Even though she was lying on her back, her boobs were just too naturally firm and pushed right up. The movement of the tight shirt rubbed against her sensitive nipples, which now poked out like a pair of little spikes.

Eleanor knew from watching TV, movies and reading magazines like Witch Weekly, Cosmo and Allure, that large firm breasts were what men wanted and flat women wished they had. But right now, at barely 19 years of age, having big boobs was nothing but a terrible hassle. Puberty had been very cruel to her. Whereas almost all of her girlfriends had seen regular development with their breasts becoming larger and hips widening and becoming curvier, Eleanor's own development seemed stalled.

Not even two years ago Eleanor had only the mildest of mounds pushing only slightly out from her chest, and she had honestly begun wondering if she would ever develop a bust. However, she was very skinny and only three inches over five feet, so along with her thin legs, flat tummy and perky but small rear, having small breasts fit just fine. Then, suddenly, as if a secret hormonal switch had been turned on in her body or a potion had magically altered something, it was as if Eleanor's boobs had started growing and swelling overnight. Every couple of months since then her mother had to help her pick out new, larger bras, as she didn't like using extension charms on her undergarments, and none of her favourite girl shirts fit her anymore without those enlargement spells. Worst of all, her breasts ached. Numbing charms could only do so much, and she didn't want to depend on pain-relieving potions either. It didn't help that she had to keep her boobs clamped up in a stuffy bra all day so they wouldn't jiggle about during training. Even together, the bra and the tight shirt together with robes could do nothing to stop (or hide) the fact that Eleanor's breasts just kept getting bigger.

"Growing pains," her mother, Lily, had finally explained. At 40, Lily was a successful healer with potions and charms masteries, and she ran her own private hospital, so she definitely knew everything there was to know about human anatomy. She went on: "Teenage boys and girls sometimes experience growing pains when they 'sprout' too fast. Usually, it's felt in the knees or elbows as you go through a growth spurt, but for you, my dear, it's your breasts. Numbing charms are your best bet as too much dependence on pain-relieving potions is not advised at all."

"Unfortunately," Mom added, "you inherited my genes. See?" She hefted her own large, very full pair of breasts swelling within her shirt. Eleanor had seen her mother naked several times, and it was true that Mom's breasts were absolutely huge.

Watching her mother make funny faces as she squeezed her own big boobs, Eleanor couldn't help but smile. Mom smiled back and said, "I too went through this awkward phase. I remember what it was like, dear."

Lying there on the bed, Eleanor's aching breasts reminded her that they were still constricted by the bra and shirt. She sat up and removed them both. She held her wand up, muttered a spell and double-checked the size: 34C. Her mother had warned that she would soon need a D, possibly even a DD. She wondered just how much her breasts would ultimately grow. She knew her mother was a 36D, so it was quite possible that she would eventually grow all out of proportion to her skinny little body. Heck, it already felt like that!

Eleanor caught her reflection in the mirror above her dresser, and she turned profile to study her jutting naked boobs. Yep, they definitely looked bigger. To her mollification, she had grown a bit taller, now standing at a height of 5'6". Her hips had started to flare and curve ever so nicely, but whatever hormones God had seen fit to give her, he had definitely thrown 99% of them into her boobs!

At times like this, when her swollen chest ached really badly, ever after numbing them, Eleanor's mom had advised her to massage them. "Just like you would rub your tired feet," Lily had explained, "or massage a stiff neck, it's a way to get the blood flowing and help you relax. It's perfectly normal."

Lying back on the bed, still wearing her short skirt but quite naked on the top half, Eleanor reached up and gently began massaging her own breasts. She carefully avoided her erect nipples—they were just way too sensitive right now, and whenever she rubbed those, she felt a little funny...down there. She wasn't quite sure why that was. Why would touching her nipples cause her vagina to get tingly and moist? She didn't feel like changing her white silk panties right now, so she avoided what would make them damp. For several minutes she simply closed her eyes, tried to relax in the blessed silence of the empty house, and casually squeezed and massaged her breasts. Eventually, she dozed into a light slumber, allowing her hands to slip down to the bed on her sides.

Harry Potter, Eleanor's 21-year-old brother, was almost through his final year in Unspeakable internship. He was looking forward to joining the DoM and putting his years and years of study and experience to good use.

He'd had a personal offer to join the DMLE from the minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt himself, but he had no interest in joining the Auror force, which was why he was quite eager to deny it and join the Unspeakable internship to join the DoM after three years of training. The only drawback was that he had to reside in a private property with other interns for the second half of his training, although he was allowed to visit before the final test. So he had to move away from his mother and sister from his childhood home, in the modest town of Godric's Hollow in which he'd grown up. His mother had pretty much kept his room as-is from the time he'd left for the training at 20. It was going to be a nostalgic experience to visit.

He'd been gone the entire period without seeing his home or family, nearly a year and six months. This training, however, had been quite brutal in terms of research and brainstorming, and he'd been spending nearly every free moment perfecting his project required for his membership. He spoke regularly with his mother, Lily, and sister, Eleanor, by floo or Patronus, and he was eager to see them again. In one of her latest calls to him, his mother had warned that Eleanor had "grown considerably" since he'd last been home. At 6'1", Harry towered over his baby sister. He was used to looking down at her and offering his brotherly teases about his little "pipsqueak" sister. He tried to imagine her being taller but probably still skinny as a toothpick, which would make her look pretty silly.

Nevertheless, he told himself to be nice to her at first because she was probably quite sensitive about it. He remembered his own awkward teenage years when he'd been a short, scrawny little dork until shortly after his sixteenth birthday when suddenly he seemed to start growing a couple of inches a month. He'd suffered agonizing growing pains in his knees. The only good thing about all that suffering was the extra inches he'd gained in his penis. With the few girls he'd managed to sleep with before moving away, there had never been any complaints about his cock. If poor Eleanor was suffering the same growth-spurts—except the penis part, of course—he would have to be sympathetic. He knew Eleanor looked up to him and would be crushed if he reacted negatively to her bodily changes, so if he was surprised to see her suddenly taller, he would have to pretend nothing was different.

He apparated outside the house and went inside. Looking around, he could see that Mom wasn't home yet. Oh well, perhaps he could surprise his mother by having a meal cooked and ready for her.

Harry closed the main door and glanced at his watch: 3:20. He wasn't sure exactly when Eleanor got out of quidditch training, but he knew from a recent call that she had running ragged, which had been keeping her at the Harpies training ground at least a couple extra hours each day. So, he would be surprising both of them with the meal. Cooking was one of his favourite hobbies, so he knew they'd both be pleased with something really special roasting in the oven upon their return home.

He entered into the kitchen and listened for a moment: silence. If Eleanor were home there would invariably be a TV going, music and speakers blaring, or anything else. Harry glanced at his watch again and figured he had time for a quick shower before digging through the pantry and fridge to see what he could whip up for supper.

The Potter home was a moderate-sized four-bedroom two-story Mediterranean-style structure, pretty much identical to one out of every four houses on the rest of the block. Typical modern suburban family homes, all pretty much the same house with four different floor plans. Harry made his way up the broad open staircase until he came to the first door: his room. Further down the hallway was Eleanor's bedroom, a spare room, and then the master bedroom for his mom. Harry's father had been out of the picture for several years now, having died back on Halloween in the year 2001 when Harry was only three years old and Voldemort attacked their home. He, along with several members of the Order of the Phoenix, a resistance group led by A. P. W. B. Dumbledore to combat the dark forces took the Dork Lord and his band of Death Munchers down. But the battle was not one-sided, as a number of defenders were martyred, his father James Potter and his best friend Sirius Black among those who mattered to him the most. All the Death Munchers were captured and prosecuted to the full extent of the law in place.

Harry took a deep breath upon entering his room, happy to see that his mother had freshened up the bed knowing he'd be home this weekend. It was a wide double bed, Denver Oak and Urban Teak colour. He'd grown up in that bed, masturbated a million times in that bed, even made love to a girl or two in that bed. It was a place of honour. He would never get rid of it. He dropped his robes and wand on the bed and immediately began to undress. He'd been up since dawn, and he looked forward to a quick refreshing shower before settling in.

He padded naked into the Jack-and-Jill bathroom that his bedroom shared with Eleanor's room. There had been times when they both lived here, when she was very, very young, that they'd gone through the classic sibling fights over the use of the bathroom, but that seemed like ancient history now, and today he and Eleanor had a great relationship. When he entered the bathroom, Harry saw that the door on the other side, that led into Eleanor's bedroom, was partially open. He could see her dresser and desk from here. In case she happened to come home while he was showering he figured he'd better close the door, and he did so absent-mindedly while glancing back into the bathroom to see what had changed.

He noticed that none of his usual toiletries was around. Eleanor had either thrown out or hidden his preferred brand of shampoo, conditioner and soap. Though she preferred scents that were a little flowery for his taste, he figured he could survive with her stuff for now. That only left needing a towel, and that's when he noticed that the bathroom was devoid of any towels, except for one simple hand towel folded neatly on the counter. He shrugged, must be laundry day.

Harry left the bathroom through his bedroom and walked straight out into the upstairs hallway. He was naked but alone, so it didn't matter. Passing right by the open door to Eleanor's bedroom, he walked about halfway down the hallway to where he knew a small linen closet would contain the spare enchanted towels. His mother preferred to use enchanted towels rather than spell drying charms due to various enchantments woven into the fabrics ranging from refreshment to fragrance. Sure enough, there were plenty from which to choose, and he grabbed two. When he turned back toward his room and took a couple of steps he was now able to see into Eleanor's bedroom from an angle that presented her bed to his field of vision and—

Holy Mother of Merlin!

Harry literally froze in his tracks. At first, it was from a simple and complete surprise to discover that his sister was home after all. But surprise switched swiftly to embarrassment when he remembered that he was completely nude. Embarrassment became full-on shock when he saw that Eleanor herself was nude—well, her top half was.

The shock increased exponentially when Harry blinked a few times at the huge pair of tits that swelled beautifully atop his little sister's rib cage. Holy mother of Merlin! he thought again. When Mom had said that Eleanor had "grown considerably" who would've guessed she'd meant like this!

Harry stared: he stared openly and in total wonder. Eleanor's breasts were amazing. They were perfect. They looked insanely alluring attached to her curvy and basically goddamn hourglass frame! He could see the outline of her arse, and her arms were very slender and toned, as were her legs. How had nature managed to throw so much flesh into those two glorious mounds and still spreading it out over the rest of her body? Perhaps she would eventually develop more, but for now, this 19-year-old little girl had the body and tits any Hollywood actress would've paid tens of thousands of dollars to achieve artificially.

After several seconds, Harry managed to come to his senses enough to recall that he was standing naked in the hallway, with only a pair of fluffy towels shielding his genitals from his half-naked little sister. Fortunately, she appeared to be asleep. But it was quite possible that Eleanor would wake up at any moment, so Harry had to make a decision:

Keep staring.

He took another step toward Eleanor's door but then slanted to the side, angling just his head and shoulders into the doorway so that if for some reason Eleanor woke up and caught him, at least his lower body would be shielded by the wall. He watched Eleanor sleep, and breath, and heave her chest slowly up and down. Not only were the mounds themselves luscious, full and seemingly defiant of gravity, but she had nice nipples as well, each of which was surrounded by a perfectly proportioned areola. And Lord God above, her nipples were hard! Harry was transfixed, but after several moments he actually managed to pull his bulging eyes from those perfect breasts, figuring he might as well check out the rest of her body.

First, he went up, allowing his gaze to take in his sister's cute face with its smooth creamy complexion and button nose. She had long, naturally wavy scarlet hair, darker than their mother's dark crimson red, reaching past her shoulder to the middle of her back, and it spread out softly on the pillow beneath her head. Then, moving back down (and pausing yet again on those breasts), Harry peered down along her chest and to her stomach, which was flat, defined and wonderfully smooth. The beginning of her round curvy ass was covered by the top of her pleated skirt. The skirt itself was short, terribly short, and at this angle, Harry realized he could see just slightly up and into Eleanor's crotch. There was just enough light in the room to let him know that her panties were red.

At this point, Harry squeezed his eyes shut, blinked, and looked down at himself. He had dropped one of the towels to hold himself steady on the wall. Something flat and cold had started pressing against his penis, and upon looking down to the source of this sensation Harry realized that it was because of the fact that his penis had begun to swell and it was now touching the wall. When he backed his hips up a little, the blood continued to flow south, and in seconds Harry was sporting a raging hard-on. His thick, impressive cock was erect—while he stared at his sister!

He tried to rationalize this as just being hornier than normal. Because of the intense research project he had been conducting this past year, he'd been horrible about maintaining any kind of normal life. He'd never been much good at keeping a steady girlfriend anyway, though he managed to get laid at least every few months or so. However, he'd been in a really dry spell lately, for the last year and a half, which meant he was horny. Very horny.

Now he was horny for his sister. His own flesh and blood 19-year-old sister.

With this newfound incestuous lust welling up within him (and within his throbbing cock), Harry returned his gaze to his sister, double-checking those tits yet again, before resuming his complete examination of every visible section of her body. From the crotch area again, and those lacy red panties, Harry moved lower still, following along the exposed flesh of her toned thighs and long slender legs. Those legs led beautifully to a set of pretty calves and dainty ankles, connecting in turn to perfect little feet.

Harry began to fantasize about working his tongue slowly up his little sister's body, beginning with a little nibbling on her toes, licking long moist lines along her legs...ever so slowly until he could get to her breasts. It was while he was staring at her feet, letting his purely inappropriate fantasy play out in his head when he heard a familiar voice.

"Hi, Harry."

Eleanor didn't know for how long she'd been dozing, and it was in this slightly groggy state that she opened her eyes, glanced at the open doorway, and saw her big brother, Harry, poking his head in. She smiled and said, "Hi, Harry." She loved her brother very much and was excited to have him back home for a while.

When he didn't say anything at first, she wondered, in her waking state, that she'd only imagined him there. But no, he was definitely there, his head still leaning into the doorway, staring at her, his eyes wide. Why?

Oh, that's right, she was topless. But what was wrong with that? She knew Harry had seen her naked plenty of times when she was growing up. She'd seen him too, especially since they had to share a bathroom growing up. He was her brother, after all, what was the big deal?

In response to her greeting, Harry could only stammer, "Oh, sorry, Ellie...sorry."

She frowned. That was weird. Why was he acting so awkwardly? Then she remembered and thought, That's right, he hasn't seen these crazy big boobs on me! He's been gone so long.

"I know," she said, grimacing. "They're crazy, right? Just grew overnight."

Harry's reply was just, "Uh...sorry."

"Merlin, Harry, it's no big deal. I'm just getting boobs like Mommy now. Are you going to say hi, or are you just going to stand there and make funny faces?"

She watched him blink a few times, then look down. He finally looked back over at her and said, "Hi...Hi, Ellie."

Eleanor couldn't help but grin now. Harry was acting just like those immature boys from school who seemed to only be able to stare at her growing chest. No way could her brother be as shallow or mean. She figured he was just surprised since he'd been gone so long and she had been more or less flat-chested when he'd last seen her. She hoped he didn't think she'd turned into a freak.

"I hope I'm not scaring you," she said.

"No, no," he said, "Not at all. I just...I just didn't know you were here. You surprised me."

She smiled, then sat up. "Well," she said, "do I get a hug?" She held out her arms.

"Oh, Ellie," Harry said. "I, uh...I was just heading to the shower."

She frowned and said, "You think I'm a freak now, don't you?"

"Oh, God, no!" Harry said quickly. "It's just..."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Eleanor, you should cover-up."

She shrugged. "Fine. Just get in here and say hello!" She reached for her blouse and began to shrug it on. Because it was so damned tight, she left the buttons undone. Her boobies still ached a lot. When she glanced up again, Harry was still standing there.

"Harry, what is wrong with you!"

"I'm...not decent, Ellie. I told you, I was heading to the shower. I didn't know you were here."

Her eyes widened just a bit. "Are you naked?"

"Yes," he said sheepishly.

She gave an amused giggle, then pointed to the towel that he had dropped on the floor, near the doorway. She pointed at it. "If you're going to be like that, there's your towel. Merlin!"

Harry couldn't get over how casual his sister was being about having woken up topless to her staring brother. She truly believed he was just surprised, not actually turned on by this. She was just too innocent, and she had every right to be. There really had never been any sexual awkwardness between them before, and it was only in his head now. So she wanted him to come over and hug her, no big deal, right? Well, his erection said otherwise as it continued to rage against the wall, just out of her sight. But since he had the other towel in his hands and didn't want to look like a jerk to her after being gone so long, he managed to unfold it and wrap it around his body, carefully adjusting his cock to flatten against his belly, hopefully, obscured by the bulk of the fluffy towel, with his hand strategically holding everything in place.

Eleanor smiled wider when Harry finally entered the room. She was amused that he was clad only in a cotton towel. He still had the slender, muscular body she remembered from before he went away. She was happy that he kept in shape, it meant he would remain healthy and live longer. She also knew her brother had had girlfriends in the past, and they would no doubt be attracted to his physique. She hoped someday that when she fell in love it would be with a boy as handsome as her brother.

She stood as he crossed over to her, and they hugged affectionately. Harry kept his hips bent back a little, avoiding her pelvis with his erection. He felt her large breasts flatten and squish out against his chest as she held tightly. He kissed the top of her head. They were quiet for a moment, happy to be there with each other, and then finally moved apart slightly. Harry could see right down Eleanor's shirt to the valley of her naturally large cleavage.

Ellie caught him staring at her and smiled. "I know. Crazy, huh?"

Harry swallowed. "Yeah, pretty surprising."

Eleanor said, "I hate them, though. They grew too fast, and they really hurt."

"They hurt?"

"Yeah. Mom said I've got growing pains."

"In your breasts?"

She nodded. "Mom said there was really nothing I could do about it until they stop growing apart from numbing charms and pain potions, which they hopefully will soon. If they get as big as Mom's I'm not going to be able to stand up straight!"

Harry couldn't help but smile.

Eleanor reached up and cupped the base of her breasts. Harry's mouth went dry as he saw this. Then, to his amazement, Eleanor actually began rubbing her breasts in front of him. She said, "Mom said I should rub them when they get sore, like a stiff neck or back."

In a horse voice, Harry said, "I guess...that makes sense."

"She also massages them for me when they get really, really sore, which is the case now."

Harry began to worry his erection would rip through the towel. He kept a hand planted firmly in place, holding the damned thing against his body. In his aroused state, the idea of his mother massaging his little sister's breasts—two women in an intimate situation—was almost too much for him. He knew his mother, in addition to having her potions and charms masteries, was also a licensed healer.

"I wish Mom were here now," Eleanor said, sitting on the bed and sighing, still rubbing her breasts with apparent frustration.

"They...they really hurt?" Harry asked carefully.

Eleanor nodded. "Rubbing my own boobs is like rubbing my own feet when they're sore. It just doesn't feel as good to do it yourself."

Harry just stared. If his sister was happy to squeeze her tits in front of him, he was happy to watch. Swallowing, trying to get saliva back into his throat, he said, "When's Mom getting home?"

"Kinda late tonight, I think. She said she has to go and oversee some patient's recovery."

"I see..." His mind, of course, had already bridged the gap of where he'd hoped this conversation was going. He desperately wanted to volunteer to massage his sister's breasts. He couldn't believe he was even allowing himself to think it, but the twitching, pulsating penis connected to his body was calling the shots now. Nevertheless, if such a thing was even remotely going to happen, he knew it would have to be her idea.

He said, "I'm sorry you're in pain, sis. Mom really is the best at massage, isn't she?"

Eleanor glanced up at him. When they were growing up, their mother had been—still was—a strong believer in therapeutic massage. She believed that no spell could equal the sensations felt when you got a massage. Getting a massage, Lily maintained, not only felt good, but it also released natural endorphins into the bloodstream, which alleviated pain and stress. Have a headache? Get a massage. Stressful day in school? Massage. Upset about a tragic event? Massage. Mom was very generous with her massages, and she'd taught both of her children to be pretty good amateur massage therapists, too.

Which is exactly what Harry was hoping his little sister would remember.

And she did.

"Harry...would you mind helping me?"

Trying to stay cool, he said casually, "Hmm? How?"

"Would you massage me? I really am in pain here."

Resisting the urge to pounce on her, Harry managed, "Sure...I suppose."

Despite his attempt to be cool, Eleanor sensed the anxiety in his voice. She said, "You don't have a problem massaging my boobs, do you?"

"Me? No. Of course not."

Eleanor smiled and immediately took her shirt off. Reclining back on the bed with her wonderful 19-year-old breasts sticking right up, she said, "Oh, thank you, Harry! This is going to feel sooooo good."

You don't know the half of it, Harry thought as he approached his sister. He took a step over to her and looked down. He was now only a couple of feet from her, and he could gaze without obstruction or distance at the smooth flesh of her naked upper body. He could smell her soft fruity scent, too. It was intoxicating. He felt his knees weakening.

Now came the question of how to begin. Did he just lean down and start rubbing away? Should he find some massage potion their mother brewed and kept at home? How should he sit? He was wearing this towel like a tight kilt, which made things awkward. (Strangely enough, neither one of them thought it was weird that he would be wearing only this towel while he massaged his half-naked sister.) Finally, he sat along the side of the bed, facing her. He had to close his knees together. The way his legs were facing, if she opened her eyes and moved her head slightly, she would be able to see up his towel. In such a case, she would undoubtedly see his balls, swollen with the semen that he would be desperate to release once this massage was over and he was able to escape into the solace of his bedroom...

His cock, still raging hard, was pressed up against his belly, tightly covered by the towel, which was rolled tightly at the top. He finally, carefully, pulled his protective hand from where it was holding everything together. As long as he didn't shift around too much, it felt like the towel would hold in place. And if he could get his cock to settle down a bit, there would be less risk of a towel slipping episode.

When he finally reached out and placed one hand tentatively atop one of her naked breasts, both brother and sister couldn't help but utter a mutual gasp—hers of relief, his of simple sexual shock. But Eleanor's eyes remained closed, and a happy, relaxed smile remained on her face. That meant only one thing: Harry could proceed.

His instincts, influenced by the raging hormones of the lack of any sexual experience in recent past, were to squeeze his sister's breasts hard, pinch the nipples and perhaps even dive in for a nibble. Of course, with tremendous willpower what he actually did was begin a slow, gracefully controlled massaging action on both breasts with both hands. He had given dozens of massages to his mother and sister before, always on only their backs, legs and arms, of course, so it made sense to apply the same uniform circular moves on Eleanor's front. He would simply have to console himself with the fact that he was, after all, getting to feel some very nice, very large boobs, even if he couldn't outwardly sexualize his actions. He channelled his magic through his palm on her breasts and Eleanor moaned.

Eleanor was suddenly in heaven. She sighed and relaxed and indulged in the wonderfully relieving endorphins that she knew from her mother's teachings were starting to flow through her body. Harry's massage techniques were a little rougher and less practised than Mom's. His hands weren't as soft, but they were much larger and almost able to cover both of her breasts as he spread them out. Almost immediately the growing pains she'd been experiencing in her breasts began to fade away.

Harry was also in heaven. Now settled into a slow and steady routine, working his fingers strategically around his sister's fleshy mounds and channelling his magic through his palm, he allowed his eyes to wander her body. He loved how his hands looked on her breasts, especially when one of her nipples sort of poked between his fingers as he occasionally spread them out. He admired the curve of her slender neck and the line of her jaw. It gave him a true pleasure to see the look of happiness and relaxation on her face. He could feel her heart beating through her chest, and he noted that it actually slowed in its pulse as her body relaxed and settled into the sensation it was receiving.

As he massaged her, he happened to glance down and see that the top of his towel had loosened slightly, and to his horror, he saw the tip of his cock poking out. Worse, the purplish head was glistening with clear pre-cum. If his sister opened her eyes and saw this, she would certainly recoil in horror at the fact that her own brother was getting a sexual charge out of massaging her breasts. He didn't want that to happen!

Trying to make his movements very smooth and subtle (his mother had warned that sudden movements in massage disrupted the gentle atmosphere of the experience and could ruin it for the recipient), Harry slid his hand gently down across one of Eleanor's breasts and over her stomach. While there, he felt her wonderfully firm musculature under its flats surface. Nice. But there was no time for that now, he had to get the wet head of his penis back into the towel...

Eleanor wanted this massage to continue for a hundred hours. She had never felt more relaxed in her entire life. She didn't understand why this particular massage felt so much better than others she'd had before from her mother, even though she was professionally trained. Perhaps there was something with the more masculine way her brother rubbed her body. His hands were large and strong and deliberate. It was like he suddenly had some kind of power over her. There was also something else very strange going on: her nipples were beginning to get harder and harder. She sensed that Harry had to spread his fingers apart to keep from accidentally trapping a nipple in as he moved his hands around. But every few revolutions, his palms moved against the very tips of her nipples, and in a way, she was all too familiar with she knew that soon she would begin to get moist again in her vagina.

She would be very embarrassed if Harry somehow noticed that she was wetting her panties with secretions that she knew a woman was only supposed to produce during sex. After it began happening to her regularly during increasingly frequent fantasies, Eleanor spoke to her mother (they always maintained wonderfully open communication) who calmly explained that this was perfectly natural. Eleanor had been really worried, but her mother just smiled and said, "Just because your vagina lubricates itself from time to time doesn't mean you're going to suddenly turn into a sex monster."

Eleanor hoped her mother's explanation was true. She was beginning to get very wet down there. She hoped it didn't start to smell. One time, when she'd experimented in playing with herself, Eleanor put her finger in her vagina, and after rubbing herself for a little while until wonderful jolts of pleasure shot through her loins, she put her wet finger to her lips and nose and tasted and smelled: there had been a subtle but distinct flavour. Was it something that Harry would smell?

As these thoughts randomly rushed through her mind, Eleanor felt one of Harry's hands begin to move off of its regular circular course. As it moved down, his fingers scraped casually against one of her nipples, a little harder than normal, and Eleanor couldn't help but let out the lightest of gasps. A fresh burst of vaginal fluid leaked into her already-most panties. Oh no, she thought, I must be absolutely soaked down there now. Surely he'll smell it!

She opened her eyes slightly, just as she felt Harry's hand graze across her stomach. Ooo, that was new! She liked that. When she glanced up to study his face, worried that he smelled her juices, she saw that he was looking down. Oh no, she thought, it's worse than I thought. But when she tilted her head to follow his gaze, something else shocked her much worse than her own vaginal flow.

Harry's penis!

It was sticking out of his towel! How could that be? She could only see the tip, and it was practically touching Harry's belly button. This was bizarre! She knew enough about male anatomy to know that a boy's penis hung down between the legs, with the testicles. For her to see Harry's penis like that it must be—oh my God, it must be hard! She always thought hard penises stuck straight out, not up...then again, if it was being restricted by the towel, then it could supposedly poke straight up, against the tummy. But for the head to be sticking up that far...

It occurred to Eleanor that Harry didn't realize she was watching him as he tried to adjust his penis and get it back inside the towel. As he did so, she noticed that a clear wet sticky substance was oozing slightly out of the little hole in the tip. What the heck was that? Finally, once he was adjusted once more, she watched him wipe his fingers on the towel before reaching back out with that hand to resume his massage of her other breast. As he did so, he looked at her face, and he saw that her eyes were open.

Harry's heart began beating wildly. How much had she seen? Her eyes were wide. The whole time, he had continued massaging her one breast with his hand. Actually, in his distraction with trying to adjust himself, his subconscious mind had continued the "massage" which had turned into little more than cupping and squeezing action. He paused that action but kept the one hand on her breast.

He said, "Ellie, I'm sorry."

"Was that...was that your dick, Harry?"

"Well..." He blushed bright red. Any second now he knew she would freak out and scream at him to get out. But he respected his sister too much to go anywhere but in an honest direction, so he lowered his head and nodded. "Yes."

"I don't understand," she said. Her tone sounded surprisingly calm. Curious, but calm. "How could it stick out like that?"

He looked at her again. He was relieved to find that her expression matched her tone. She was quite curious, but she was by no means freaking out. In fact, she didn't have a problem with the fact that one of his hands was still holding her breast.

"Harry, is your penis...hard?"

He swallowed. He nodded.

"Why?"

In his embarrassed shock, Harry began to realize something. His sister Eleanor wasn't freaking out due to the simple fact that she was truly and honestly curious about his penis, almost in a clinical sense. Despite her incredible newly bloomed breasts and the fact that she was now 19 years old, as far as he knew she was still a virgin and had always been extremely shy around boys. She didn't know yet how all the "plumbing" worked. She wanted her brother to explain it. So, he would try.

"Well," he began, and he removed his hand from her breast.

"Oh, Harry, don't stop your massage!"

"Oh...okay." He reached up again with both hands and resumed his caressing of her young breasts.

She smiled, letting out a relaxed sigh. "Now...explain."

Does she really know what she's asking? Harry wondered sceptically. And did she really not know how guys got hard-ons? Well, he would do his best to explain, but he would watch her closely. Once she became uncomfortable, he would back away.

He said, "A man's thing...his penis...becomes hard when blood begins to flow into—"

She giggled, "Silly goose! I don't mean how does it physically get hard—I know how that all works. What I mean is, why? Why is it getting hard now?"

"Well, Ellie, the fact of the matter is, I'm a boy, and you're a girl."

"Duh!"

"Shh, let me try to explain. Even though what we're doing right now is to help relieve you of your growing pains, normally when a boy touches a girl's breasts it is considered much more intimate than when a boy touches, say, the girl's shoulders." He paused, gauging her reaction.

She didn't seem bothered. She simply asked, "So because massaging my boobs is more intimate than my shoulders, you're getting hard?"

"Yes."

"But it's not like we're going to have sex or anything. We're brother and sister."

"Yes, but..." Harry sighed, realizing things were going to get a lot more awkward. But he loved her and respected her enough to be honest: "What we're doing...it's still of a sexual nature. If you were just a regular girl, and I was a regular guy, it would be a sexual thing for me to feel your breasts." He added quickly, "I love you, Eleanor, and you are my sister, yes, but I guess my body...my penis...doesn't always know the difference. I'm sorry."

Eleanor gazed into her brother's eyes when he offered his apology. Her heart went out to him; he seemed genuinely embarrassed and troubled that he had offended her. She felt compelled to show that she was okay with this. She was aware, of course, that girls didn't normally expose their breasts to boys unless sex was going to be involved. But her thinking up to this point was, "He's my brother, it's no big deal." Nonetheless, she finally realized, although Harry was giving her an honestly therapeutic massage, naked boobs were naked boobs, and the poor boy was reacting as nature intended.

Knowing that she had to put him at his ease, she confessed, "Harry, I'm being affected too, you know."

"How so?"

"Well, you may have noticed but...my nipples are hard."

He paused in his massaging, his palms now cupping her hard nipples. "I noticed," he said, a slight grin on his face.

"But there's more," Eleanor went on. "You see, when my nipples get hard, my...well, I get sort of wet...down there."

She watched her brother staring at her for a moment, and then he seemed to get it. Not only did he get it, but it must also have caused some kind of reaction in him because she saw his jaw sort of tense up and his eyes narrow. Then he glanced down, and when she followed his gaze, she saw that the head of his penis had once again made an appearance above the line of the towel around his waist.

Harry took a hand from her breast to once again tuck in his newly inflamed erection. He was stunned to hear Eleanor say, "No, Harry...it's okay. Leave it."

"What?"

She shrugged. "I've already seen it. What's the big deal? I know why it's hard now. I appreciate you explaining. We now know that our bodies are reacting to each other, so we can adjust to this feeling and not get weird about it."

"Well...okay."

"Just don't stop my massage."

"Okay." He resumed. She no longer closed her eyes. She enjoyed watching her brother. She was now very curious to know what the rest of his penis looked like. The head was big and fat and shiny with pre-cum.

While she watched his face, however, she noticed that he seemed bothered by something. Every once and a while, he would grimace or even let out a slightly pained little grunt. She asked, "Are you okay, Harry? Are your hands getting tired?"

"No, it's not that."

"Then what?"

"Well..." He trailed off. What was he to tell her? His entire being had become consumed with the powerful desire to rip his towel off, tear off his sister's panties and then fuck her violently, a thought process that shocked even him. So he fought it. But in fighting it, his cock ached terribly.

"Harry, please, what's wrong?"

Merlin, he thought, if she's going to ask then I'm going to tell her. So far she had remained calm, but the next test was coming. Through gritted teeth, he said, "My body is having a hard time with this, sis."

"How so?"

"Well, you can see that I have an erection. The problem with having an erection for so long is that it can...hurt after a while."

"Really?"

He nodded.

Eleanor suddenly realized something. Her eyes went wide and she even sat up slightly on an elbow. She said, "Oh my God, Harry, when your penis grows, you get growing pains, just like my breasts!"

Harry could only respond, "Well, in a way, I suppose, yes."

"Harry, I am so sorry! In asking you to relieve my pain, I've caused yours."

"It's okay, Eleanor. Really." Though it wasn't. He could not recall ever feeling his penis throb so much without being able to relieve himself with some desperately needed masturbation. Instead, both of his hands still slowly and lovingly squeezed his sister's boobs.

Eleanor said, "Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want it to hurt, Harry. What will make the pain go away? Should I cast a numbing charm on it?"

"What!? No! No no no no no! No numbing charm there. You don't use spells on your privates. Never."

"Oh Okay. Okay, but then what will you do?"

This was the moment he had waited for. As if from outside his own body, he heard himself find the courage to utter, "Perhaps...perhaps a massage would help."

He waited tensely for his little sister to realize that he was actually suggesting that she rub his penis. There was no way he was going to get away with this, he had simply bitten off more than he could chew. The fun was over—

But then she said, "I can do that."

His cock actually gave an involuntary flex when he heard that, and a fresh dose of pre-cum oozed from the tip. He said, "Really?"

Eleanor smiled. "Sure, Harry. It's only fair. My breasts feel really good now. The pain is gone. My whole body actually feels good now. Your massage was wonderful. I want to return the favour."

He smiled back. "That's very nice of you, sis."

Eleanor sat up, her large breasts swaying. She said, "We should trade places. You lie down here, and I'll take care of you." Gently, she guided her brother to a lying position on the bed. He must be in real pain, she thought. He wasn't really saying much. When she got him in position, she sat in almost the same way he had been, her knees facing up toward his head. She modestly closed her legs in case he happened to tilt his head and see up her skirt. She didn't think he'd want to see her wet panties.

"Just relax now," she said soothingly. He had kept his head up, watching her. His hands had also been down at his mid-section, covering his crotch. Gently, Eleanor pushed her brother's hands away, and she was amazed at the way his hard penis pushed a big tent in the towel. "We have to undo this thing," she said.

Harry didn't protest as Eleanor slowly undid his towel and pulled it away. He was now lying in full nudity on the bed, and if Eleanor had been surprised at how big the head of his penis was, she was now completely awestruck by the size of the entire shaft, surely several inches long, that led down to a sizable pair of testicles.

Harry, growing nervous, said, "Eleanor, you don't have to do this."

"Shhhh," she replied. "Seriously, Harry, it's okay. I know this is just your body reacting. And besides, I've always been curious to see what a man's penis looks like, I mean other than on the Internet or those magazines. What better way to get a safe up-close look?"

Who could argue with that, Harry thought. He said, "All right, Eleanor, but for the record, if you get uncomfortable with or are bothered by anything we do next, just say the word and I'll walk out of this room right now."

"Deal," she said, grinning. She reached out tentatively with one hand and let the tips of her fingers lightly touch the shaft of her brother's massive penis. When it twitched, she snapped her hand back. "Oh, did that hurt?"

"No...no," Harry said, his voice thick. "It just, well, it tickles when you touch it lightly."

She giggled. "What should I do?"

"Just...just place your hand all the way around it. Get a good grip. That should do it."

Eleanor was getting excited about what was literally hands-on learning about a man's penis. With innocent eagerness, she reached right out this time and grabbed the thing, wrapping her fingers all the way around—well, almost. She couldn't quite fully touch her thumb to her fingers. His penis seemed to be bigger in diameter than her forearm. Incredible! She found it unfathomable as to how a penis this big was supposed to fit inside a woman's vagina for sex.

She looked at Harry, but he had his head back, his eyes screwed shut. She was convinced his pain was worse than ever. But she was suddenly unsure of how to massage him. Although his penis was big, there wasn't a lot of actual surface area on which to rub. Although Lily, her mother, had given her a few instructions on the proper technique for massage, she'd never told her daughter how to massage a penis.

"Harry, how should I massage you?"

"Like this," he said. He reached up with his own hand, placing it over hers, and began to move it back and forth. She could feel the skin move over the rigid tissue underneath. This was pretty neat. After a few moments, she seemed to get the rhythm, and he removed his hand.

Now stroking her brother exactly as he'd guided her, Eleanor asked, "Is this good, Harry? Am I massaging you okay just like this?"

"Yes!" he blurted in a grunt. "This is just fine, baby."

She giggled again. He called her "baby." He was sure acting strange now. But that was okay. She knew how frustrating it could be to experience growing pains and not get any relief. If stroking his penis was going to help him, she was happy to do it. She wasn't completely naïve about it either—she knew that between a regular guy and a regular girl she would be giving a "hand job." But she loved her brother and didn't mind making him feel good.

Harry was in complete and utter ecstasy. He could never have imagined, when he walked into this house barely an hour ago, that he would eventually be naked on his 19-year-old sister's bed with her tiny little hand barely able to wrap around his cock as she stroked it. It was certainly a feeling too exquisite to last long.

Eleanor stared at her brother's large penis as she stroked it. Every once and a while, a new dribble of that clear pre-cum would leak out of the tip. A surprising thought entered her mind: I wonder what it tastes like.

"Easy, sis," he said in a wince as she gave him an experimental squeeze.

"Sorry," she replied, loosening her grip a little. "I'm just amazed at how hard-yet-soft you are. So stiff and rigid, but the skin of your penis is so warm and soft."

Merlin, he thought, if I die tomorrow, thank you for giving this last experience to me!

Aloud, he said, "Sis, would you mind using your other hand too?"

Eleanor smiled. "Sure!" She reached up and now used both hands, wrapped lovingly around her big brother's penis, and continued her back and forth motion. "Is that better?"

"Oh yes!" He knew he wasn't going to last longer. And this presented another problem. Did Eleanor have any idea how a man's orgasm worked? She was happy to stroke his hard penis, but she very well may have thought that doing this over time would help with his "pain" and make it get soft again. Of course, that was only after he was able to cum, which would make a huge mess and probably scare her to death. He knew he would have to warn her, prepare her—and he had to do it fast.

"Ellie?"

"Yes?"

"This feels really good. Very soothing and wonderful. But I have to ask you something."

"Shoot."

He couldn't help but grin at her choice of that word. Soon enough, he said internally. Aloud he said, "Do you know what happens to a man's penis when it gets hard like this and is stimulated?"

"It helps with the pain, right?"

"Well, yes, it does, but—" He paused. He was unbelievably close to orgasm, but he was desperate to stay in control until he could prepare her. Otherwise, he'd have to run into his room and finish himself off privately, and soon! He resumed, "You are definitely helping ease my pain, Ellie, but remember that my penis doesn't really know the difference between whether you, my sister, are giving me a massage or if a regular girl is stroking me for pleasure."

"Like a hand job."

"Yes, yes! Listen, Eleanor, this is important." He was panting now, his balls tingling. "The massage you're giving me is going to cause my penis to ejaculate. Do you know what that means?"

Continuing her steady stroking motion, Eleanor said, "Ejaculate? When a man's sperm comes out?"

"Yes! Yes! Exactly."

"You mean I'm going to cause your sperm to come out?"

"Only if that's okay with you, Eleanor. But you need to decide now. Very quickly. Now!"

"Is it going to make you feel better?"

"Yes! But...it will make a mess!"

"Will lots of sperm come out?"

"Yes, Eleanor, yes!" His hips started to rise up. His buttocks tensed, his toes began to curl. "Please!" he screamed, "Eleanor, please decide whether you're okay with this!"

Eleanor glanced left and right. She wasn't sure exactly how much sperm was going to come out of her brother's penis, but the way he was screaming and grunting and thrashing, she worried that it would be quite a lot. But how much?

"Eleanor! Please! Either stop stroking me or go FASTER!"

Desperate to help her brother feel better, and prepared to deal with whatever mess occurred, Eleanor instantly started stroking faster and faster and said, "It's okay, Harry. You can let it happen now. It's okay, Harry!"

"Oh, Merlin yes thank you!" Harry bellowed. He clutched the sheets with his fists, stiffened his legs and let nature do the rest.

As Eleanor angled his penis straight up in her quickened stroking pace, the first eruption of his semen shot out. In complete shock, she watched a thick, white jet shoot straight up what seemed like two feet in the air before falling back and splattering one half on her hands and the other half on Harry's belly. No sooner had it landed than another string shot out almost as high as the first, and then another. For several seconds, it seemed like an immeasurable geyser of white sticky fluid was going to shoot from his penis indefinitely, spurt after spurt...but soon the pulses of cum became smaller and smaller.

After about thirty seconds, with Harry now begging her to pause in her stroking, Eleanor finally took in what she had just witnessed. Her hands, wrists and part of her forearms were coated in semen from her brother's penis. A couple of drops had even landed on her breasts! It was so warm it almost felt hot. Much of it had also landed on Harry's stomach, hips and legs. Several large globs were also all over the towel spread out underneath him. She simply couldn't believe how much had come out, and she realized why he'd warned her.

All she could say was, "Wow."

Harry managed to open his eyes and tilt his head up. He knew he could usually produce a good amount of semen, but this was incredible. Definitely a record. There was thick white fluid covering much of his lower body, tangling on his skin, and literally coating the two little fists still gripping his cock. His sister, in her wonderful innocence, had given him simply most erotic hand-job of his life.

He looked at her. She looked at him. She smiled said, "Feel better?"

He smiled back. "Oh, yes. Thank you."

She said, "Gonna have to clean you up now, Harry."

"Sure thing." He remembered his wand was in his room and Ellie's was downstairs as well. But there was the second towel on the floor in the hallway, and it was only then that he saw her standing there:

Mom.

Lily, who had arrived home unnoticed over thirty minutes ago and had witnessed these sibling proceedings to their literal climax, was holding the towel. She swallowed, managed to find her voice, and said, "Looking for this?"