He didn’t reply. Instead he finished unwrapping her chest. It took every millimeter of self-control he could muster to keep a poker face. Sure, there was a lot of healing to do, but he could already tell his sister’s new boobs were fantastic. Great, add this to her beautiful face, impossibly long legs and glorious tush. Jess had just piled on one more ridiculously hot thing about her for him to try not to think about. Her new breasts were large, gravity-defying teardrops. They sat a little high right now, but when they settled in she would be ready for a centerfold.
“Well?” she finally asked because her brother was so quiet.
“Hmmm…” he tried to look thoughtful, “Well, should the right one be green on the bottom?”
“What?!”
“Just kidding. Everything looks fine. Looks like you at least kept the size down to something realistic looking.”
Jessica bit her lip. “Dr. Nelson called them ‘a very generous C.’ He wouldn’t go any bigger.”
“Well, I think you’re still definitely eligible for that ‘BT’ nickname you asked me for this spring. Want me to get you a mirror so you can look?”
“No. Yes. Maybe. Ack, I don’t know.”
“If you’re willing to take my word that everything is okay, I suggest you hold off another day or two until you’ve healed a bit more. You might freak out a little right now, there’s some mild bruising.”
“Okay.”
“Time for more washing. Ready, Stinky?”
“Hey, I liked ‘BT’ better,” she groused.
“No telling which nickname will stick,” he sassed. Their banter helped distract Winston as he began washing his sister’s shoulders. When she cooed happily, he let it became more of a massage, stroking her muscles awhile. He washed under her arms as well.
“Lean forward a little. I can get part of your back at least.” She struggled a bit, her stomach and chest were sore. He continued with the soapy massage then rinsed her with the unsoaped wet cloth. She leaned back onto the bed with a sigh.
He paused with the washcloth. Okay, it was time for the boobs. He wasn’t ready. Would he ever be? He composed himself and ever so gently washed his sister’s chest. She winced a few times when he carefully dabbed at her sutures but she didn’t say anything. He re-bandaged her and helped her pull on a fresh t-shirt.
“Okay, onto the bottom half.” He draped the other large towel over top of her from the waist down for a measure of modesty. She managed to get her sweatpants and underwear started down off her waist before it got too uncomfortable for her to bend forward.
“Help?” she winced. “It hurts to reach.”
Winston had to de-pants his sister. A blend of thrill and horror ran through him. He quelled it and reached under the towel for the waistband to her pants at her hip and slid them downward a bit from the side. It was awkward. When they were close to her knees, without thinking, he reached into the middle of the sweatpants to grab them by the crotch. His hand hit the warm center of her panties and he stiffened slightly in surprise. They were soaked. Not sweaty soaked because they were wet only at the crotch. They were horny girl soaked.
No mistaking it, his sister was aroused by his attentions. “It’s the painkillers,” he told himself. “She’s half delirious.”
Winston pulled her sweatpants out from under the towel and purposely threw them into the wash basket way on the other side of her room. If he was right, they’d reek of her arousal and he did not need that sensory input right now. He was having a hard enough time dealing with seeing and touching his sister.
He forced these thoughts from his head and focused on washing his little sister’s cute feet. “How’s that? Too rough? Too soft?”
“Oh just right, it feels amazing. I might take a long time to recover. You may have to do this for months.”
“Nice try. You’ll be up and around in a couple of days.”
He worked his way up her slender ankles and her sleek, toned calves, then her knees. He rolled her covering towel up as he went. He did a pretty good job staying detached again until he got above her knees and started in on her slender, toned thighs. They were silky smooth, flawless and muscular. It was impossible not to have sexual thoughts looking at them and feeling them.
“God, when did my sister get hot thighs?” he wondered to himself.
He must have moved his lips because Jess asked “What was that?”
“Sorry, I guess I was trying to figure out when you went and got all pretty on me.”
It was an unguarded comment that made him cringe as soon as it tumbled from of his lips.
There was a pause as the compliment registered with Jessica, and she smiled sweetly. “Thanks brother dear. I do hope you aren’t going to say that to all your patients. You might be up on harassment charges,” she teased.
At the same time though, she met his eyes and spread her legs a bit. It was a silent invitation for him to continue washing up her thighs.
To be sure, Winston wanted to hear her permission, so he asked. “You fine with me washing your naughty bits?”
“You sound like Mom,” Jess grinned. It was true. His occasional resort to a British euphemism was an affectation he’d picked up from their anglophile mother. He didn’t even realize it sometimes.
But Jess hadn’t answered his question. He smiled and waited patiently until Jess’s porcelain cheeks flushed pink and she nodded slightly. “Please? It might kill me to reach down like that.”
“No prob,” he shrugged, switching smoothly back to American slang. But, dammit, there was a ‘prob.’ He was about to touch his sister’s pussy. It had been virtually impossible to get over seeing it a few days ago. Now he had to touch it? He tried to think about something else.
Jess misinterpreted his hesitation. She looked hurt and embarrassed as she began to slide her legs closed. “If you don’t want…”
“No, I want,” he reached forward to stop her knees from closing. “Wait, that didn’t sound right. I mean, I’m fine with…”
“I know what you meant bro,” she smirked. “And thanks. Really. I don’t think many guys would be excited at the prospect of washing their sister’s goods.”
Ah, but that was exactly his problem. He wasn’t many guys and he was very excited at the prospect of washing his sister’s goods. He just wished he wasn’t.
He rolled her covering towel up a bit more and reached beneath it with his washcloth-covered hand, intending to start at her vulva, get a little lather in her pubic hair and gently work downwards to her ‘goods’ proper. His plan went awry when his washcloth slicked against perfectly smooth skin.
The surprise had shown on his face before he realized it.
Jess giggled. “I wondered how you would react. I got waxed down there the afternoon before the surgery silly.”
“Why?” he blurted out.
“Why do you think? ‘Cause it’s summer and that means bikini season. Plus, all the hot studs that are going to do me will complain about getting hairs in their teeth if I don’t. Don’t your boyfriends make you shave your goodies?”