Summer At The Lake With My Sister

She stared at me, waiting.

She didn't have to wait long. My lips pursed and my head descended and before I knew anything else, I was sucking on my sister's tits, tasting and slurping up the tequila, but most of all savoring the exquisite sensation of Sara's nipples in my mouth. I took one at a time, sucking it in no hurry, savoring its depth and width with my lips and tongue. I sucked hard and felt her tit pull away from her flesh into my mouth until it hit my eager tongue. No sensation had ever been sweeter. The tequila was unimportant.

My hands rose to her breasts and caressed them, hard, while my lips kissed her nipples.

I was transfixed by the site of Sara's bare breasts, but I looked away long enough to see her face, and she too was staring at my hands and lips on her flesh.

I don't know how long I sucked her breasts. Two minutes, five minutes, twenty minutes -- I have no idea. But at some point, when I'd sucked all the tequila off her chest, I pulled back from her and looked her in the face. We said nothing but our eyes communicated everything.

My hands went to her shorts, and I pulled down. I wanted more. I looked at Sara and saw her nod, faintly.

With a quick, hard yank I pulled Sara's shorts, and the tiny panties underneath, down her thighs, to her knees.

For the first time in my life, I beheld my sister's pussy.

A thin narrow strip of hair lay over her clitoral hood, below which lips obviously puffed up by her arousal lay partly opened, exposing pink depths that I had never imagined I would see.

Both of us breathed hard. We said nothing. Sara now lay naked on a rock in a mountain cathedral of darkness and silence, save for the soft music of a gentle breeze playing through nearby pine trees.

I held the flask over her. Only a trace of tequila remained. I was determined to use it wisely. I tilted the flask until a pinched dribble of liquor splattered onto the skin over her clit. The tequila flowed over her in every direction.

"You have a beautiful pussy," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"Thank you, big brother," she said. She paused a beat. "It's yours."

I need no further encouragement. My mouth fell on her, engulfing her clit hood and lapping up the trickly tequila patches that glistened in the fading campfire light to either side of her pussy. When I was done, I moved down, tongue swirling over the tiny, pearly nub of her clitoris.

Sara moaned. I'd never heard any sweeter music. Her hips lifted off the rock and she mashed her pussy against my mouth.

My tongue assaulted and probed every part of her pussy. My sister's pussy. My lips and fingers pushed her lips back so I could probe her as deeply as possible. Wetness met my probing; Sara was drenched. The rock under her was wet -- I could see the patch of darkness even in the gloom of night.

I wanted to make her come, but before I was finished Sara sat up and pushed me back.

"My turn," she said, with a tone that allowed no argument.

My sister, completely naked now, hopped off the rock and pushed me back on it. Her graceful fingers clasped the waist of my shorts and pulled down. The shorts moved down my body until my granite-hard cock sprang forth and bobbed in the night sky.

A moment of cold enveloped my penis, but it was no more than a moment, because within seconds the warm, wet shroud of Sara's mouth fell over my cock, licking it, tasting it, and engulfing it. Her tongue swirled over me. I threw my head back, my gaze on the stars above -- the Milky Way blazed overhead in a glorious arc. The cooling night air nipped my skin, but I didn't care. All I could focus on was the ecstasy of Sara's mouth busily working over my erect penis.

She had skills. She mixed up her movements, sometimes taking just the head in and sucking on it, other times pulling it fully inside her mouth until I felt the cock-tip hit the back of her throat, and still other times pulling it out and licking it up and down. Her thumb and forefinger stayed fixed around the base of my shaft so she could control where my cock went.

It was bliss.

She pulled her mouth off my and looked up at me, the end of my cock millimeters from her mouth.

"Don't come yet," she said.

"That's going to be hard to control," I replied. "You're driving me crazy."

"You're driving me crazy, too," she said, "but I don't want you to come in my mouth. I want you to come somewhere else."

"God, Sara," I said. "I don't know if I can hold it."

"I guess we move on to phase 2," she said. She sat back, squatting, with her legs spread wide.

I beheld Sara's body, pulled back from me, lit by moonlight. Sara posed, legs open, lewd and sublime. Patches of her skin sparkled where the remnants of the tequila coated her. My eyes drifted to the lake, and to the surrounding mountains, and to the obsidian sky overhead, freckled with the light of ten thousand stars.

It was a sacred moment.

The lake basin, framed in its high, granite walls, was our church. The tequila that had splashed over our bodies was our holy water. Sara was my bread and body.

Sara ran a hand over her exposed torso.

"I'm sticky."

"Me too," I replied. "We both have tequila all over our skin. We can't get into our sleeping bags like this."

"Let's go wash off," Sara said. Her hand pointed vaguely in the direction of the lake.

"Sara, it's nighttime. We'll freeze."

"No, we won't. We'll wash off and then we'll warm up. I know how to warm us up. Where are the towels?"

"In my backpack," I said. "Just a sec."

I stood up and walked to my backpack, my hard cock bobbing all over as I tip-toed over the hard, cold, pebbly ground.

I fumbled through my backpack and pulled out two towels—hand towels only, barely suitable for drying us off if we went in the lake. But I brought them, anyway, back to where Sara sat, naked, magnificent, her body lit only by the fading light of the campfire and the faint but growing light of a half-moon overhead.

"Let's go," she said.

We grabbed our towels and fleece tops and ran awkwardly toward the lake, dodging rocks and needly plants where we could, shouting "Ouch!" to the night when we failed and the ground underfoot pricked our feet. The stickiness of the tequila lay in a patchy film over our bodies. I saw Sara's breasts bob in the moon light as we hopped and ran to the water. I felt the awkward weight of my hard cock as it swung right and left in rhythm with my churning legs. The cold night air bit our skin. There was no sound around us, save for the whisper of an evening mountain breeze.

We came at last to the lake shore, and we shivered. During the day the water had looked inviting, but now, at night, it looked cold and forbidding. I wanted to retreat to the tent. But I needed to wash the tequila off me. Sara and I looked toward one another, and we nodded at the same time.

We plunged into the lake, together.

The cold of the water pierced my body. I ran my hands all over myself to wash off the tequila as quickly as possible. When my hands were done, I dunked myself up to the neck under the water. Then I hopped out of the lake, shivering. It was night-time in the mountains and the temperature was plummeting.

Sara emerged from the lake at the same time I did, like Venus of the mountains. A light chalky moon-glow lit the curves of her nude body. We grabbed the towels lying on a rock and dried ourselves off the best we could and then we both threw on our fleece tops. I noticed the bottom of Sara's fleece top hit near her hips, but above her pussy, leaving her exposed.

I grabbed her and kissed her. She kissed me back, hard.

I needed warmth but didn't want to run back to the camp to get it, so I spun Sara around until her hands were on the boulder in front of her and my hands were on her hips.

"Christopher --" she began to say.

"Don't say anything," I said. "I need you. Now."

She paused for a moment but the words that followed pierced through the cold, quiet, night sky.

"Take me," she said.

I did. My cock, briefly shrunken from the dip in the cold lake, already had sprung back to life from the sight of Sara's nude body. It pointed out hard and straight from me. I pushed forward and the cock head hit Sara's pussy.

The night was too cold to permit foreplay or ceremony of any kind. I plunged straight in. Her cunt was wet, if tight, and the head of my cock entered and filled her without trouble. I paused when I was all the way in, and my pubic mound slammed against her pussy lips.

As if in sync with our fucking, the wind picked up. The ever-colder nip in the air kissed our skin, and the voices of the evening wind murmured with greater volume through the trees all around us. The cold spurred me on. I knew that our bare bodies, still wet from the lake, wouldn't be able to tolerate night-time exposure at this altitude for long. I had to fuck Sara fast and hard to completion, before we both froze.

So, I did. My hands held her hips fast and my fingers dug into her skin as my body rocked with hers. Sara's fingers clutched the edges of the boulder. Her ass pushed back against me.

And, Oh, what an ass. The moon glow was faint, but it was enough to expose Sara in her exquisite and uncovered beauty. Her butt tweaked against me and her bare, pale cheeks shone in the pale light and the dark cleft between those cheeks beckoned to me, welcomed me, as my cock thrust forward, into the cleft and the glorious, sopping entrance of her pussy. I had never beheld anything or anyone so beautiful.

Both of us heard it, above the whispers of the wind: the sound of urgent fucking, of two bodies smacking against each other and of the pushing and pulling of my ravenous, firm cock into and out of her willing depths. She grew wetter and the noise grew louder. Dribbles of her wetness flowed out of her, onto my cock, splattering my thighs and trickling down my legs.

And this wasn't just any girl I was fucking. It was my sister, Sara, wanting me as much as I wanted her.

"God," I said, "what a pussy."

"It wants your cock," Sara said back.

"It's got it," I said. "Now and always."

Somehow, we sped up even faster. It's a good thing nobody else camped at the lake, because Sara began shrieking and I began calling out her name.

"Sara, fuck yeah." That sort of thing.

Our voices, now lifted to the pitch of shouting, carried over the lake and bounced back in an echo.

The scent of her body came to me, wafting over the dominant campsite scent of pine pitch and fir, and of a recently dowsed fire. Even in the cold, night air she sweated. The sweat and sex smell hit me, and I closed my eyes, savoring it. But I didn't stop my hard thrusting into her. The sound of her ass slapping against me rose over the growing night breeze.

"Feels so good," I heard her say.

"I love how tight and wet your pussy is," I replied.

"It's wet for your cock. I love the feel of it in me."

I gave more of it to her. I didn't want to stop, but I knew the falling night temperature left us no choice. I didn't want to end sex with my sister with hypothermia.

"Come inside me," Sara said.

"I will."

It didn't take long after that. Sara's pert ass smacked against me harder than ever, and my cock pistoned in and out of her with a lusty fury. Her body shivered under the grip of my hands, and the scent of her rose in the night air and the cold wind grew stronger and at last my body was ready.

I felt that familiar surge from somewhere within, and it gathered in my loins. I felt the eruption begin and course through my length until my cock tip bulged and gave way and I sprayed inside her, in thick, irregular spurts. I filled my sister. Sara felt it too, and she clenched her butt cheeks and her pussy gripped me like a vise to claim every bit of my cum that she could.

We called out to the night sky at the same time. Our voices trailed off and faded against the cooling breeze. But the lust remained. I clasped Sara's ass to my pelvis until I'd emptied every possible drop of cum inside her.

At last she pulled away.

"It's getting cold," she said. "We better get into the tent."

My eyes ran over her nude body in the moonlight. I'd just fucked my sister, and I could scarcely believe it. Magic, lunar light illumined her figure. I didn't want the moment to end. But she was right: it was getting colder, fast. Neither one of us wanted to experience hypothermia.

"OK, let's go," I said. I shivered and my teeth chattered.

Overhead the sky was black, but the black was dotted by a million stars.

Sara and I raced to the tent and dove inside it, zipping it closed behind us. I had already made sure the sleeping bags were ready.

I grabbed Sara and kissed her. My tongue probed her mouth and her tongue pushed back against mine.

"Mmmm," she purred. "That feels good. But I'm cold."

"Me, too," I said. "I know how we can get warm."

"How's that?"

"Body warmth."

The night-time temperature fell fast, and our teeth chattered. I zipped the two sleeping bags together, and Sara and I slipped into the joined bags, one after another. I scooted in behind her, my front to her back, my hands reaching forward and around her, grabbing flesh, hands settling over her the fullness of her breasts. My lips hovered at the back of her neck for maybe a few seconds until I planted my lips on her nape and her hair tickled my nose and Sara moaned.

The union of our bodies did what it was supposed to do, and we warmed quickly.

I squeezed her breasts with my hands, teasing her nipples. Sara pushed her butt back against me.

"Mmmm, this feels good," she said. "Let's do this all night."

"Can you sleep if we're like this?"

"Probably," she said. "But I don't care. I want to do it even if we can't."

We nestled together for a long time like that, quiet in the dark tent. A light wind blew outside, sometimes rippling the tent's fabric gently. The sound betokened an odd and tenuous comfort that Sara and I might be safe together under this tiny nylon shroud amid all the dark and cold and wind that the mountains might throw at us.

Time passed, and consciousness faded. After a while -- I don't know when -- Sara's small voice stabbed through the night.

"Christopher."

"Yes."

"I don't want to stop doing this. Tell me we'll keep doing this."

"Always," I said. It was the last thing I said, and then the stress of altitude and the hours of hiking and the surprise at all we'd done together finally caught up and converged and we faded together and we both drifted to sleep.

* * * *

I had always been a light sleeper, so it was no surprise to me when I woke up but couldn't see anything. It was still dark. For an instant I was confused, but then my hands registered the presence of Sara's nude body against mine. I recovered my wits and knew where and when I was. I pulled my watch off the tent floor. It said "4:47 a.m." Damn. I was awake but I had plenty of time to go before sunrise, and Sara was fast asleep and likely to say that way for a while. I didn't want to wake her.

But I couldn't pull away from her. Her nude body drew mine to hers like a magnet.

So, I lay there, for maybe an hour, enjoying the sensation of her bare skin and curves against me while I tried hard not to react and wake her up. I counted numbers in my head, and I listened to the rhythm of her breathing, and I tuned in to sounds outside -- to the stillness of night giving way to the murmur of morning, with birds beginning to stir and call to one another, quietly at first but with a burgeoning clamor. Eventually, the blackness outside the tent turned to gray. Sara still slept.

I grew restless, but wanted her to keep sleeping, so I wriggled my way out of the joined sleeping bags and grabbed a fleece top and shorts and flip flops and scrambled awkwardly out of the tent. The cold morning air slapped my skin. I pulled on the few clothes I carried and scurried far enough away from the tent so I could take a leak without Sara hearing me. Steam rose from the puddle I made on the ground. The lake scenery emerged around me in a soft muddled light as dawn came. The sun still lay well below the mountain horizon, but a bright spot over the granite crest to the East revealed where it would make its appearance, eventually.

I hopped toward the lake to get a better view and to keep myself warm. But it was hard to think about the lake or the temperature. I thought about Sara, and what we'd done.

We'd had sex. My sister and I. We had fucked. I'd come inside her. I scooped up a handful of frigid water from the lake and splashed it over my face as though it might wake me from a dream, but even with my face stinging from the icy water the dream was still real. My sister Sara and I had fucked.

And it was the best thing I'd ever seen or felt in my life. My brain crowded with images of her lithe, nude body in my arms. I felt again the firm but slippery grip of her cunt on me as I pushed inside her. But there was another feeling, too, greater than any of those -- the swell of my heart as I enclosed and took her. The urgent need for her to be mine. Before this trip, I had never imagined that such a feeling about my sister was possible. I'd never felt it for any woman, let alone Sara. But I felt it now. I couldn't deny it.

The lake bore silent witness to my feelings, its waters changing from lead to gray-blue as the sky brightened. For a few moments the wind fell away completely, and the lake lay like glass beneath and between its mountainous frame. The only sound was the steady music of the waterfall, flowing constantly down the escarpment on the other side of the lake.

I don't know how long I stared out at the lake like that.

"Good morning," I heard a voice call from behind me.

I turned and saw Sara, in her own fleece top and sweat pants, walking toward me in that awkward way you do when you're not fully awake and your muscles aren't yet fully cooperating. Her hair was a mess and her hands were hidden inside the ends of her long sleeves. She wore no makeup and her eyes were squinty and still struggling to open fully, but she was adorable, and sexy, and she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

She hopped over near my patch of ground, until she stood a few feet from me, and we stared at each other. Both our faces, I think, were half joyous, half bemused.

"Good morning," I said, to break a long period of silence.

Sara hopped a few more feet closer to me until I could enfold her in my arms. We held each other and warmed each other in the cold morning mountain air as the sun began to rise.

It rose at last, and the first thing I noticed about it was when it lit up Sara's messy hair, turning it from straw to gold. In moments the morning light bathed our entire bodies, and we savored the new warmth as we clasped each other.

Like other animals that favor the day, Sara and I needed light and sun fully to wake us. At first, we held each other in stillness, but as the sun rose higher over the granite horizon our bodies revived. Then desire and lust stirred. One of my hands grabbed Sara's ass. Her hand caressed the nape of my neck. I kissed her, and our tongues touched, and then we could no longer control ourselves.

Our hands grasped and clutched at one another and soon our clothes were on the ground around us and we were naked again. It wasn't warm yet, but it didn't matter, because we needed each other, and we'd create our own warmth. Sara grabbed me, down there, and almost instantly I grew to my maximum length and Sara put her lips to my ears and whispered the most delicious words she could.

"Fuck me again."

I took her ass in my hands and lifted her and her eyes grew wide and a little girlish squeal came out of her mouth, and while I held her steady with one hand I used the other hand to guide my cock to her opening -- wet already -- and I pushed it inside. I didn't think about it. I'd never fucked a girl while standing up before, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I guessed from Sara's response that she'd never done it before, either, but that she was as willing as I was.