The sun woke me up. It squinted though the blinds and into my eyes. I stretched and rubbed the sleep out. The blankets felt good against my naked skin but a quick look at the clock told me it was past time to get up.
In the bathroom I looked in the mirror while washing my face. I was in my mid-thirties, five foot two inches tall and just a tad over one hundred and fifteen pounds. My hair was brown and long with curls and my eyes do deeply brown they were almost black. My breast showed no signs of sagging with age which pleased me. They were an ample thirty-six D. I smiled at my naked body and took a second to recall the last time I was fully dressed. It took me a moment t had been nearly two months, at my cousin's dinner party. I smiled again I hated being dressed.
In the kitchen I made coffee and took my cup out onto the patio. The sun was fully up over the mountains now. I was glad to be back in the Balkans, I had spent far too much time in America. My husband and I had come back last year, back here to the small village in the mountains between Albanian and Kosovar where we had grown up. What country where we in? That was hard to tell, our passports were stamped Albania but I was sure that somewhere in the hills we had crossed the border. Our village existed as a place out of time caught in some off centered universe. A universe ruled today as it had been since I was a child by my father-in-law.
Davot. He had a last name, which since I was married to his son, was also mine, but for him no one used it. When the communist had ruled both Albanian and Serbia, of which Kosovar, was then a part with an iron hand, Davot had ruled the communist.
Absently my hand stroked my full hairy pussy and as I drank the last of my coffee I traced my slit with my fingertip and smiled. It had been Davot who when I was younger provided me with protection, the same protection I now enjoyed once more. Protection which, since I so disliked wearing clothes I often needed.
The sun was warm and I had things to do. I put on my cloak. My husband teased that it was my red-riding hood cloak. It draped nicely over my shoulders and had a catch near the throat. There was also a hood which could be pulled up over my head either for damp rainy days or to keep the sun off. It was not so much red as a deep burgundy.
I clasped it by my neck and flipped up the hood, holding it across my nude body with one hand I walked to the front door. It has rained yesterday and so I slipped on a pair of flip flops as I walked out. It is a half a mile from our home into town and the day allowed me to leisurely stroll down the hill to the village market. I crossed my fingers for a ride home as going back up the hill carrying groceries would be no fun.
I keep meaning to strap my cell phone to my arm but I never seem to recall.
You knew you were entering the village when the side walk appeared. That was a new addition since our return. When I had been a young girl here there was no sidewalk, barely a road. The village had also grown in size from around 800 or so when I was a child to nearly 1300 now. That was all thanks to Davot and the jobs he created here.
I was barely thirty feet down the side walk when I spotted a couple coming towards me. They were young and had that clearly in love look on their faces. She seemed familiar, the contour of her face were thin and long more Kosovar then Albania but it seemed I knew her
"Good Morning Miss Christina" She said as she approached
Her voice told me who she was. "Oh my little Dara...you are Leda's baby sister?"
