Summer At The Lake With My Sister

"It's incredible," Sara said, twisting her lithe body around as she surveyed the whole lake. She pointed.

"Let's swim over there," she said. "To that rock."

Her finger marked a large rock that sat in the lake perhaps 200 feet away.

"Race you," I said.

"You're on," she replied, and together we dove and swam to see who would get to the rock first.

I was a good swimmer, and I was bigger and stronger than Sara, but I knew she was a good athlete, and I knew that she would try to beat me, so I swam with fast, broad strokes through the lake's cold waters. The cold gripped my chest and made breathing hard, so I had to concentrate. Every once in a while, I raised my head above the surface to see where Sara was. She was close. She wanted to beat me.

I touched the rock first, barely. For a moment both of us clung to it, chests heaving. Then we pulled ourselves up the side of the pebbly surface. After a few moments of clambering Sara and I stood atop the rock, a tiny island in the middle of a jewel of a lake surrounded by the most beautiful mountain scenery I'd ever beheld.

When I had finished taking in my surroundings I turned to Sara. The water-soaked bikini clung to her figure and left little to the imagination.

"This is perfect," I said. "I'm glad you suggested the trip."

"Always listen to your sister," she said. She gestured to a flattish area on the west side of the rock. "Let's catch some rays while it's still sunny."

So, Sara and I lay down, side by side on the little rock island, and we felt our bodies warm under the September sun, slowly but surely descending along its arc toward the mountain horizon to the west.

I was struck by our isolation. Here we lay under the sun in a scenic mountain amphitheater, and for all I knew no other souls existed within miles of us.

"We're completely alone here," I said. "Just us."

"I know," Sara said, and she twisted toward me, her body as damp and sleek as an otter. "I feel like I'm in another world. It's just the two of us. Nobody can tell us what to do here."

I had to try hard to stop my eyes from running hungrily over Sara's body. My God, she looked good. I had always known my sister was pretty, but it was never more obvious than now, when she lay next to me in a thread-bare tiny blue bikini surrounded by a mountain lake. The surface of the lake rippled gently, and sunlight reflected off it like a million diamonds.

A breeze, warm for now but not for long, enveloped our bodies, and the water on our skin evaporated.

"Summer's almost over," she said.

"It is," I said.

"I don't want it to be over," Sara said. "I wish I could stop this moment and you and I could lie on this rock longer. I wish we'd done this sooner, earlier in the summer, and for longer. I feel so happy right now. I don't know how I'll feel when I go back to school."

The truth was, I liked school. I had been looking forward to going back. But I had to admit there was nothing quite like what I felt at that moment in the sun with Sara on the rock, and I didn't want it to end either.

The seasons change with brutal suddenness in the mountains. In less than a few weeks the warmth that Sara and I enjoyed at the lake at that moment would disappear. A shroud of cold would fall over the water. Snow likely would fall before the end of the month. Sara and I would be long gone from the lake by that time. We would have returned to our respective colleges, a thousand miles from the lake and from each other. As I lay on the rock by Sara, I felt, keenly and desperately, the transience of the moment.

We sat quietly on the rock and soaked up the sun's warm, friendly rays for a while. Sara flipped over, on her tummy, and untied her bikini top. Its strings fell to the side. The sight of her bare back, and of her up-turned ass, only partly covered by the thinning nylon of the bikini, roused my cock, which had begun to warm on the rock. I felt it thickening.

"Like what you see?" Sara was looking at me, grinning. She'd caught me staring at her bottom.

"Ah . . . sorry," I said, embarrassed. Whoops.

"It's OK," she said, and she raised herself off the rock a few inches, on her elbows. The entire side of her boob was exposed although the nipple remained hidden, mashed as it was against the granite. "I don't mind. It feels like we're a million miles away from everything and everybody. I don't think the rules against brothers staring at their sisters' butts apply here."

A funny feeling came over me when she said that.

"What rules do apply here?" I asked.

She raised up a little more. I tried not to, but I couldn't help it; my eyes scanned Sara and still more of her boob was exposed. Her nipple was almost but not quite exposed. I felt another surge of growth in my cock, and I worried that Sara would see it bulge under the swimsuit. But she didn't seem to notice.

"I don't know," she said after a long pause. "Maybe there are no rules. Maybe we can make them whatever we want them to be. Wouldn't that be nice?"

She flipped over, without reattaching her bikini top. She lay topless in front of me, her breasts large and round and perfect. Her pink nipples bloomed like wildflowers under the late afternoon sun.

"I hope you don't mind," she said. "There's not much summer left and I want to get rid of these tan lines if I can."

I looked away from her, but the image of her breasts burned in my mind. My cock stiffened and lengthened still more under my suit.

"You don't have to look away," Sara said. "I don't mind if you look."

I turned back to her. Sara lay beautiful under the sun on the rock. She lay completely naked but for a tiny triangular patch of blue nylon that covered her pussy.

"Seems only fair, since I get to look at your chest," she said. "You look good, Christopher."

"Thanks," I said. "I work out some, and I swim." I barely heard the words coming out of my mouth. My eyes didn't leave Sara's tits.

"I don't think I've ever seen your breasts before," I said at last, surprised at myself for saying it.

"I hope you like them," she said.

"Of course, Sara. You know you're beautiful. You don't need to hear it from me."

"I've heard guys say that," she said. "But I didn't always believe it. Sometimes it feels like they just say whatever because they want something. It's kind of nice to hear you say it. When you say it, I believe it. So, thanks."

We lay on the rock a while longer, and I felt as if I was in a dream. It truly seemed that Sara and I had escaped the boundaries of Earth and for a little while existed in our own world. We basked in the still, warm air over the lake. Like a mirror, it reflected the mountains that rose all around it. I closed my eyes. Although I couldn't see Sara, I could hear her breath, and I could sense her presence.

A faint chill tickled my skin and I opened my eyes. A slight breeze had picked up and the lake surface rippled gently. I looked up and the sun had drawn closer to the mountain horizon.

At last I broke the silence.

"We better swim back," I said. "It'll be sunset soon."

"Yeah, we better," she said. She sat up and put her bikini top back on.

We dove off the rock and into the water and swam to shore, but this time we didn't race. We sauntered. We were in no hurry. Sara was the first to shore. When I walked to the lake's edge right behind her I could see the crack of her ass under the little bikini bottom, and I would have felt my cock rise but for the diminishing effect of the cold water on my flesh.

We retreated behind our respective bushes and put clothes on for the approaching evening. It was unseasonably warm, and the lake was surprisingly free of mosquitoes, so both of us put on shorts and long-sleeve synthetic fleece tops. We both wore flip flops on our feet.

We emerged from behind the bushes and approached the camp site at the same time. Sara looked around and nodded.

"Nice job, big brother," she said. "Looks like a good camp. Glad to see you're taking care of us."

"What are big brothers for?" I asked.

"What, indeed"? she asked in reply. We stared at each other for a moment.

"So, what's for dinner?" she asked.

"Beef stew," I said. "But I want to get a fire started and have smores first. There seems to be plenty of wood around. Can you gather some while I get the food set up?"

"Sure," she replied. Sara collected dead branches from around the campsite and dumped them in a pile next to me while I gathered the stove and fuel supply and food together.

The stew was done at about the same time the sun disappeared behind the granite wall to the west. The air chilled noticeably, but the fire we'd started held back the cold, for a while. I ladled out spoonfuls of stew into our plastic food bowls and we both greedily gulped it down, happy to get hot food into our empty bellies after a long, tiring day of hiking.

"Good chow," Sara said.

"Thanks," I said. "Cooking is one of my many talents."

"I didn't know that," Sara said. "I need to find out more about your 'many talents.'"

"I don't share them all with everybody," I said.

"I see." Sara grinned at me and a drop of stew trickled down her chin. "Will you share them with me if I'm nice?"

"Maybe," I said, "if you're nice enough." I enjoyed the back and forth but didn't know where it was going.

We finished our stew, and as darkness fell, I stirred the fire and we cooked marshmallows on the ends of long sticks and mashed them together with chocolate and graham crackers to make smores. By the time we were done the stars began to pop out of the indigo sky above us and the air grew chillier.

"Good dinner, Christopher," Sara said. "You're a better cook than I am."

"Thanks," I said. "We're not completely done, though."

"No?"

"No. But we need to clean up before the next phase."

We rinsed and cleaned out the cookware and utensils. I didn't want bears visiting us in the night to get food scraps. When we were done, we returned to the fire. I rummaged through my backpack. I pulled out a flask, a lime, and a little plastic saltshaker.

"Time for tequila shots," I said.

"Tequila? I'm impressed," Sara said.

"Be prepared," I said. "Boy Scouts' motto."

"You were never much of a Boy Scout, though, were you?" Sara asked.

I shrugged. "No, but I learned the most important parts. Be prepared means having tequila handy when it's needed." I held up the flask and waved it between us.

I put the saltshaker on a flat rock slab in front of me, and I cut the lime into skinny wedges with a Swiss Army knife I kept nearby. I carefully poured the tequila in appropriate measures into little aluminum shot cups.

"Ever had tequila shots?" I asked Sara.

"Once," she said. "In Cabo. Spring break with some friends. But it was kind of different."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Oh yeah."

"Tell me."

"There were six of us," she said. "On the beach. Late at night. On a big blanket. Three guys. Three girls. This guy -- Jake -- brought the tequila, and some limes, and salt. And we did body shots."

"Body shots?" I asked.

"Body shots," she said. "I was wearing shorts and a cropped top. My belly was exposed. This guy -- Jake --sprinkled salt on my tummy. He put a wedge of lime in my mouth, and he told me to lie back. And another guy --shit, I've forgotten his name -- licked up the salt and threw back the shot and then he sucked the lime in my mouth."

"Sounds hot," I said.

"It was, kinda," she said. She paused, and for what seemed like an eternity neither of us said anything.

"So, what do you have in mind?" Sara asked.

"Something a little different," I said, and I saw Sara's eyebrows arch when I said it. My mind conjured up something I hadn't planned on before. But Sara's story inspired me to come up with a new plan.

I don't know what got into me. I was making it up moment by moment. But I wanted something, and something told me Sara wanted it too.

"Lie back," I said.

Sara lay back. The rock on which she sat was large and smooth and mostly flat, so it was easy for her to lie back and expose her lithe body.

"Pull up your top. Expose your belly," I said.

Sara followed my instructions. Her eyes never left mine. They bored into mine with a mixture of trust and curiosity -- and something else I could not name.

Her hands pulled her fleece top up from her shorts, over her torso, exposing more and more of her skin. The moon overhead lit her body. She kept pulling the top up until the bottoms of her breasts were visible. I hadn't expected her to expose so much.

My cock twitched.

I pulled a lime out of a plastic bag and cut a thin slice of it. I held the slice between the two of us. Sara's eyes were wide, and I sensed the tension in her body. Slowly, I lowered the lime slice and pressed it against her lips, which gave way to the pressure.

"Hold still," I said.

"OK," she said, her voice barely a whisper, muffled by the lime slice.

I picked up the saltshaker and held it close over her torso, a few inches from her navel. I sprinkled it slowly in a little arc. The salt tickled Sara, obviously, because her body bucked at the touch of the salt and a muffled "Mmmmph" came from her mouth, with the thin slice of lime between her lips preventing her from saying more.

I put the saltshaker down and picked up one of the shot cups. Slowly, oh so slowly, I held the cup over her bare torso, brought it close to her exposed skin, and tilted it.

A thin stream of tequila spilled out, directly over her belly button, filling it, then spilling over it until streams of the liquor poured away in different directions from the middle of her abdomen.

I didn't know what I was doing. I'd never done this before. I'd never imagined doing this with my sister, of all people. But there she lay, beautiful, sexy, belly exposed, and by God I was going to taste her skin.

Our eyes locked after I set the cup down. Her eyes shone in the moonlight and her head nodded.

I licked the salt on her skin, my tongue lapping against her in short, rapid strokes. I'd overdone it, a bit, with the salt, but that gave me more reason to take my time licking Sara's body.

Sara cooed with delight. I'd never heard her coo before, and it was the most wonderful and arousing sound I'd ever heard.

When I'd sucked up the salt I turned to the tequila. A pool of it lay over her navel. I fixed my lips to it in a small "O" and sucked it up, making sure my lips pressed hard against her glowing skin. Little rivulets of tequila had streamed this way and that over her skin away from her belly button and my lips followed every trace to lick it all up. I left little kisses along Sara's skin as I lapped up the tequila.

I heard her moan.

When I was done, I pulled my head off her and looked her in the face. The lime slice still lay between her lips. I wondered what I'd done. This was my younger sister. But the look in her face told me she was as eager as I was. She pursed her lips to offer the lime to me.

My mouth fell on hers and sucked the lime. But in no more than a few seconds I wasn't sucking the lime, I was sucking Sara's mouth. My lips touched hers, and I forgot about the lime. I just wanted the taste of her mouth. I sucked the lime out of her mouth and spat it to the side, and my lips returned to hers. I kissed her. She kissed me. Our lips danced and tangled with each other.

I felt something else -- the pressure of her tongue against mine. It threaded its way past my lips into my mouth until it hit my own tongue, my gums, my teeth -- everything. There it twisted and played inside my mouth. My own tongue pushed back against hers. Our tongues cavorted against and teased each other. I pushed back hard against hers, and she pushed back hard against mine. We started a contest of tongues. Neither of us could lose in that contest. It was win-win, all the way.

When our lips finished tussling, we pulled back and stared at each other. Sara's eyes were wide, and she was breathing hard. Neither of us said anything for another minute. Then a wicked grin spread over her face.

"My turn," she said.

Sara stood up from the rock and pushed me down on it. She pulled my shirt up, all the way to my underarms, and ran her hand over my torso.

Before I could say anything more, Sara pressed a lime slice into my mouth. She sprinkled salt over my abs, which were clenching with anticipation.

She poured a drop of tequila into my belly button. But she didn't stop there. She moved up my torso, to my chest, and poured a drop of tequila on each of my nipples.

Then she started sucking and licking.

She took her time, sucking the salt off my skin slowly, giving me a loud, wet kiss after finishing each sticky patch of skin. When she finished with the salt, she attacked my navel, noisily slurping up the tequila and pushing her tongue hard into the little cavity on my belly. I felt it swirl in me, and it tickled. She stared up into my eyes as her tongue and mouth did their magic on my body. I was aroused beyond measure. I felt myself grow and harden down below. I wondered if Sara noticed.

If she did, she didn't let on, because her eyes never left mine. When she finished with my belly button, she dragged her tongue across my skin, up, until it contacted a nipple.

Oh God, that feeling. I'd sucked other girls' nipples, but no one had ever sucked mine, until Sara. She assaulted it with her mouth.

The air cooled as the night grew darker and a faint breeze tickled the wet parts of my chest. The warmth of the day was giving way to the cold of night. But I barely noticed as Sara's mouth greedily kissed my nipples.

My body shook with a start when I felt teeth clamp down on a nipple. Sara was careful to bite down lightly, and it didn't hurt, but it was startling. I felt sensations -- physical and emotional -- I'd never felt before with a woman. I groaned through the tart lime stuffed into my mouth. I closed my eyes and felt Sara's mouth lift off my body, her sucking and licking done for the moment. When I opened them, her face was over mine and her lips closed over the lime and mashed against my lips. We weren't even pretending to suck the lime anymore. I wanted to kiss her. I spat the lime away and grabbed the back of her head with my hand and pulled her head back to mine, and we kissed like wild things, moaning and slurping.

"Sara," I growled.

"Christopher," she growled back, running a hand over my bare chest.

Her mouth pulled away from mine and returned to my body. She put her tongue and her lips on my chest, leaving wet patches all over me that chilled at the kiss of the night-time air. When she finished, she sat up and stared at me, her face flickering in the light of a dying fire and a pale half-moon, her blond hair tousled and unkempt.

"I've got next," she said.

Sara nudged me, and I scooted over on the rock. She took my place and lay back. She waited.

She didn't wait long. I knew what I wanted, and I was pretty sure she wanted the same thing.

I took the bottom edge of her fleece top in my hands and I pushed it, past her belly button, until the bottom edges of her breasts came into view. My sister's breasts. I waited, briefly. Sara said nothing, but her body rose and fell on the rock with heavy breaths and her eyes fixed on mine in an invitation that no man could mistake.

I pushed the fleece top up, exposing her breasts. But I didn't stop there. I kept lifting, and she obliged by lifting her arms, and I pulled the top completely off her. I tossed it to the ground below.

Sara lay topless on the rock before me.

I forgot the salt and lime. I held only the flask of tequila, over her breasts. I tilted the flask until a thin stream poured over a nipple, and I did the same for the other nipple. Her nipples stood dark and firm over her pale body and the tequila splashed over them and trickled in every direction down her breasts.