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Alex continues working with a well-endowed Latina.

"Alright," she acquiesced with a small smile, weakening, and she lay down on her stomach, stretching out across the table. "Hit me with your best shot, Mad Max." He really was quite good. At a lot of things. She heard him chuckle at the nickname, squeezing more sunblock onto his hands, and she closed her eyes, settling back with a grin.

But she had to bite her lip again to stifle another moan when his hands really got to work. 'Wonderful hands,' she thought, shivering both at the cool lotion on her hot skin and the feel of his callused hands. Talented hands. Carpenter's hands. Lover's hands.... She couldn't squelch that last thought that just drifted into her mind. But she did shove it to the back, trying to be abject.

'It's just because I'm so sore and he's so skilled though,' she assured herself, wondering why she was feeling like this and struggling to ignore the tingling/electric sensations. Or maybe because she was so unused to such a touch now. Yet such an innocent touch and she was making it to be... something entirely else. Before a week ago she hadn't seen him for almost two years- but she hadn't felt this way when he'd touched her before. What had changed in that time? Besides her growing up, that is? He was her brother, or rather her stepbrother, but they'd always thought of each other as blood... She bit down harder on a full lower lip.

He was rubbing circles with the heel of his hands now, then pressing deep with his fingers, alternating technique and pressure. Fingertips trailing lightly over the satiny pale skin, evoking another shiver, stroking, bringing every nerve to fiery life, then molding, kneading...... Carrie felt she was drifting away on a cloud of pleasure, body fully at ease as his magic hands moved over her shoulders and upper back, making her quiver, tremble, as they drifted over to the small of her back and then to the middle again.

'Yes, floating away,' she thought passingly. 'Or melting into a warm pile of butter,' she sighed mentally, an almost sleepy, contented cat feeling coming over her. Still in that state of mind, she stretched under him, arching her back slightly, his fingers trailing to her neck, stroking, tracing her shell of an ear, running through her hair and briefly massaging her scalp. Instant puddle of Carrie. She could swear she just purred. 'I definitely owe him for this. I'll have to think of something really nice to do for him later.'

Transported, she barely noticed as he moved down her body, massaging her small feet and shapely calves, following her long, smooth legs up to trim thighs, brushing the cloth-covered mound between them, pressing. And before her sluggish brain had time to register the action, his hands were smoothing back over the curve of her bottom to her back and she was relaxing again without even knowing she'd tensed, releasing a breath without even knowing she'd been holding it.

In a short time she was warm, slick, and completely relaxed, trusting, under his hands- so much so that the moans and sighs trapped in her throat had burst free. Then it was a purely sensual experience. She seemed to forget, in her pleasant dazed fog, that this was technically wrong, that he was her stepbrother, and she was melting, moisture pooling between her thighs and an unfamiliar heat in her veins.

In turn, Max seemed to forget she was his stepsister and only eighteen to his twenty-three, seeing/feelings a soft, beautiful, willing female and his body responded to it. And in the place she was in now, she didn't much care (in fact more than enjoying it)- she was feeling so very good and didn't want that feeling to stop.

So when his wonderful, callused hands slid up her body even further, around to her front and under the thin cotton to cup full, round young breasts, she simply gasped in delighted desire and arced to his touch.

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