I don't know if I should tell this story. I know some of you will think I'm a crazy old coot, too mentally unstable to remember clearly. Believe me, a long life is not necessarily a happy one. Don't misunderstand; I wouldn't trade with anyone. My life had its ups and downs just like anyone else; but in one respect, I am the most fortunate man on earth. I enjoyed the love of two women most of my life. Maybe many will think this story dishonors their memory, but I think it's a testament to their beautiful minds as well as bodies. I feel sorry for myself with their passing; and to be honest, can't wait for my own. I suppose some wonder why I don't kill myself if I'm so miserable. It's not an option. If I did, I know my ladies would think poorly of me and their opinion matters most. However, I'm rambling when I should tell the story.
It started when I was five. I had a seven-year-old sister and we played doctor when our parents weren't around. We did this for years until suddenly, my sister wouldn't play anymore. I realize now, she had started puberty when she stopped. However, then I didn't even know the word much less understand it. I continued to pester her unmercifully to play. A few years later, I discovered puberty and when we were alone, my sexual comments were unending. I don't know how she tolerated me. I guess she knew I really loved her. Sometimes she'd roar that if I didn't stop, she would never speak to me again. I knew her bark was worse than her bite, so it only slowed me for a little while.
When I was seventeen, one of those downs in life struck. Our parents died in a traffic accident, killed by a drunk driver. It was senseless and that made it all the more painful. We had the house, my mother's car, and more life insurance than necessary to support ourselves through university and beyond. My sister forced me to swear at their graveside that I would distinguish myself at university. She made the same pledge standing beside me in the wind and the rain. We both knew it's what our parents wanted for us. Our pledge brought us closer together.
We inherited one other thing, a rustic mountain cabin built by my great-great-grandfather. It wasn't beautiful, but it was spacious. There was no running water and the most modern convenience was the foam pad on the privy seat so you wouldn't freeze your butt in the winter. However, to the builder, it had been a labor of love as well as a matter of survival. It had a huge field stone fireplace still complete with the wrought iron arms and rings for cooking. Surrounding the fireplace was a cozy log cabin with the old-fashioned front veranda you often see in pictures. It was complete with rocking chairs my sister and I used many times in our youth. A later addition was an extremely large iron wood-burning cook stove. The kind that costs a small fortune these days, if you are lucky to find one. As a family, we had the best times of our lives at the cabin. The area was full of trails left by the old prospectors and complete with an abandoned mine on the other side of the mountain. Steams ran from the snowmelt high overhead.
One of the first things we did together after the death of our parents was return to the place we had so much enjoyed. The closest access road was two miles away, so we had to hike to the cabin. Even with the short time that had passed after my parent's death, I could not avoid noticing her beautiful buttocks sway under the backpack. As usual, the pack contained tins and dried goods. I too carried a backpack, and as I followed her, for once made no comment about her body or how much I desired to see it. However, as the months passed, I returned to my old ways. I besieged her with constant requests to see some portion of her anatomy. She simply rejected them. My eighteenth birthday came and went.
One warm and beautiful September day, we hiked to the lake some six miles away. Behind her, I watched her buns as usual. As we hiked, I noticed I was hot and removed my shirt. It was just before my turn to take the lead; we habitually alternated every mile or so. Naturally, I remarked she should do the same. "In your dreams," was her reply as we alternated and I took the lead. We continued up the mountain, enjoying the exercise, fresh air and sunshine, when I heard her stumble behind me. I turned to find her defiantly okay. Her breasts were beautiful large succulent, the areolas large and dark topped by her nipples. All she wore above the waist was the light backpack, the straps resting on her shoulders. My hands rose of their own volition to touch. She stepped back. With a touch of anger in her voice, she unequivocally informed me if I touched her, I would never see them again. I instantly obeyed knowing the difference between her bark and her bite. That was definitely a bite. We continued our hike with me dreaming of her bouncing along behind me. A mile passed and my sister took the lead. Her movements occasionally allowed a glimpse of her beautiful breasts. Finally, we reached the lake and began lunch. I was sure she would cover herself. I was wrong and throughout lunch watched as they swayed and jiggled to her movements. With my mouth as dry as a desert, I gathered the courage to tell her she was gorgeous. Her tits were beautiful.
"I'm glad you like them, but would you do me a favor and refer to them as breasts? To me, tits are toys for men's pleasure. So, if you talk about them, use breasts. I think only a lover should call them tits." With that, we finished lunch and returned to the cabin. Her movements afforded me the occasional glimpse. At the cabin, she donned her shirt and we continued our normal routine as though nothing happened.
Winter came and went. Our marks at university were excellent. Both of us honored our commitment to our dead parents and each other. My sister would not allow a return visit to the cabin until we completed exams. Therefore, it was a fine warm late spring day before we saw the cabin again. We spent a day cleaning and airing before resuming our hikes the following day. Up the mountain with no real destination in mind, we alternated the lead each mile as usual. I grew hot and sweaty. At a stop to switch, I removed my shirt preparing to pester my sister to do the same. The moment I removed my shirt, she did too and with no coaching from me. We continued up the mountain. I watched her magnificent bottom made taut and round by hiking. I commented she must be sweaty in her pants and maybe she should remove those too. She ignored me as I continued to make comments about seeing her bottom. We stopped to switch; it was my turn to take the lead.
"Are you wearing those pants all the way up the mountain or will you give me the view you want so badly?" She asked. That comment put the ball squarely in my court. I struggled in indecision, until I realized I would never get my wish unless I acquiesced. I removed my jeans and with my cock tenting my jockeys, stuffed them into my backpack beside the shirt. My sister stood silently looking at my underwear. Reluctantly, I removed them as well and added them to the backpack. Immediately, I began hiking again, nude to the world except for the backpack, my cock semi-erect bobbing with my strides. Sure, my sister occasionally saw my equipment between my legs as I moved.
The next mile passed and she took the lead for a few moments then stopped. Without turning, she removed her backpack and with several wiggles of her hips, removed her tight jeans. Her thong covered almost nothing of her ass. She bent to gather her jeans and put them in her backpack. My heart almost stopped and my mouth was so dry my tongue stuck to the roof. She stood and with another wiggle of her hips stepped out of her thong. She bent again, exposing her sex for a second, and she placed her thong in the pack. My heart lurched and continued. Repositioning the pack on her shoulders, she continued up mountain, as though I wasn't there. My cock stiffened as I followed watching the muscles flex under her skin with each step. The heart shaped inverted three sway with each stride. Her broad hips moved from side to side. I was in heaven.
We reached a clearing. She stopped and looking at my cock asked if this was where we should eat lunch. I looked at the honey-blonde pubic patch hiding her sex. She removed our lunches and her jeans. I was sure she would get dressed. I bent to get the water in my pack. When I turned around, she was sitting on her jeans so the stiff grasses wouldn't irritate her rear. I tried to tell her how succulent her ass was. How attractive it was as I followed her up the trail. "I think it's from running all over this mountain with you, but I'd prefer you call it my bottom. I think only a lover should call it an ass." After lunch, we headed down the mountain, our bare bodies enjoying the sun and the air. When we reached the cabin, she jumped into her clothes and we went in to prepare an evening meal. She insisted I be fully clothed before entering.
The summer passed rapidly with many nude hikes, both of us becoming comfortable in our nudity. My nineteenth birthday came and went. I would be entering the school of architecture in the fall. We left the cabin at the beginning of September, so I would have time to register. We planned to return later in the year. It was late October before we returned. It's a dangerous time in the mountains, since the weather can change rapidly. A huge fire in the fireplace and an equally large one in the wood stove kept us warm. We took a final hike heavily clothed against the unseasonably cold weather. The clouds hung low and threatening.
Then, it happened; the weather suddenly changed. The snow started to fall, visibility shortening to just a few yards. We were too far from the cabin and wearing sneakers too light to protect us from the snow. Soon, our feet were numb from the cold and the trail was lost in the snow. Finally, she could no longer walk, and tried to stop me as I picked her up to carry her. I told her I'd be damned if I would lose the only person I loved in life. I'd like to tell you I romantically carried her back to the cabin. The reality was far uglier. Draped across my shoulders in a fireman's lift, I eventually went to my knees the cold almost my master. I had no idea where we were. Fortunately, my hand struck an old iron hoop half buried in the ground and covered in snow. Instinct and unconscious memory clues brought us close to home. I had seen the hoop all my life. It was half buried about forty feet from the cabin. I looked up trying to see. The way the hoop lay, the cabin could be in two directions. I thought of leaving her and going one way, but realized I could loose her in the storm. It was a fifty-fifty chance and I stumbled to my left winning the bet. Slowly, the cabin loomed out of the wall of snow. Finally inside, I staggered to her bed and with a final heave, tossed her onto the bed. I don't know how she landed. I was unconscious before I hit the floor.
I don't I tell you this to portray myself as some sort of hero. On the contrary, I was a fool. I left the cabin in looming weather. I took her too far. Worst of all, I left the compasses in the cabin. Ultimately, I had risked her life. Several times, I almost abandoned the struggle for survival in my fear and weakness. I won, not because of my bravery, but because of my cowardliness. I could not face life without her.
When I awoke, I found myself on the floor, naked, blankets piled high on top of me, hot water bottles against my feet. A fire roared in the fireplace. Her nude body pressed tightly against my own feeding me warmth. Her big soft brown eyes watched me. When she noticed I was looking at her, she smiled. Oh, she smiled with such love and warmth, I felt sucked into her essence. Her breasts tight against me, her body warm, her pussy radiated heat against my thigh. Her legs around mine tried to contain my body with her own. Her mouth was against my ear saying the 'no touch' rule was gone and her tongue worked it way into my ear sending shivers through my body. Her warm mouth was against my ear telling me she loved me. She said she had always wanted to play doctor with me, but worried I might get hurt. She said at night she thought of me and had pleasured herself since she first discovered masturbation. Then, she took one of my hands and placed a small circular foil packet in it. With her mouth still against my ear, she explained she always had them in case the day came she could no longer do without me. Her tongue would occasionally work its way back into my ear renewing the shivers coursing through my body. These weren't shivers of cold, but lust trying to overwhelm me.
