Chapter 1 -- Upper Peninsula
One summer, after the end of high school, my folks had the idea that we should spend an entire summer out at a cabin on Lake Michigan a little South of Gulliver and McDonald Lake. My dad was a writer, and taking month-long vacations was a perk he could sometimes afford.
The cabin itself had been in our family for years, left to my Mom and her brother when their parents had passed. We'd spent a few weeks there every couple of years for a while, but we hadn't been back in about five years.
For the most part the place was for my uncle and cousins. Uncle Rob had made enough in the software business to afford the upkeep and taxes out of what he called "petty cash". Whatever that means.
In any case, the cabin was a nice two-story log cabin looking place with a huge master bedroom suite taking up the whole top floor, three smaller bedrooms on the first floor, and all the regular kitchen stuff. There was a big wraparound patio outside, and on a clear day my Mom said you could see all the way to Beaver Island.
I was pretty excited 'cause last I had heard Uncle Rob had fitted the whole living room with a decked-out satellite setup and huge HD screen. Mom and Dad were saying this vacation was supposed to be family and outdoor time, but my sister Sherry and I knew that now we were both over 18 eventually we'd be doing whatever we wanted.
If I only knew then how true that would be.
The first couple days we did a lot of the usual stuff. My dad took my sister and me out fishing in the little boat that came with the cabin, while Mom would take a drink to the side of the lake and read a book. I think the boat was probably too small for four people anyway, but my mom didn't really like water, boats, fish, or bugs. Sun, shoreline and gin were a lot more her speed.
One day, the three of us were out on the water. I had my pole in the water, while my Dad was trying to teach my sister to bait a hook. He was holding the hook for her, trying to show her how to put it on and for whatever reason she couldn't get it. Eventually, the bait slipped in to the water and my father had had enough.
"Okay, one last try. Dan, can you get another bait for your sister?"
"One sec," I said. "I think I've got something here." Sure enough, the bob on my line was starting to duck a little. No firm grip yet, but if I pulled in the line or dropped the pole either the fish or the pole was sure to be gone.
"It's okay, Daddy," my sister said. "I can handle worms. They aren't that bad."
Sherry turned around in the boat and bent over towards me.
"Danny, can you move your leg a little?" I had the bait bucket under my leg, and she started to reach under me. As she did, I looked over and down where she was reaching.
The skin on her arms was getting a darker brown than normal and her naturally dark hair was bleaching it's way towards a sandy blond, but I could see her shoulders were still red from being bare and outside more often. Just a year younger than me, we looked almost totally alike, tall and mostly athletic with darkish skin and hair.
As she bent and reached down, I meant to look away, but before I could I saw her shirt open where the top buttons were undone. She wasn't wearing any suit or bra under the light sleeveless shirt, and I got a clear view down the button line and into her bare cleavage.
I knew it was wrong to look at my sister, but her breasts were right there, and I hadn't seen a pair in a while now. Perky and nicely filled out, with creamy white skin past the tan lines and tight pink nipples at the tip.
I think I lost my mind for a second. I just sat there, watching as she brushed some of her hair back over her shoulder, still looking down into the bucket. Her shirt caught a breeze, opening up just a bit and making her nipples stiffen, getting redder than they had been a second ago.
I saw a bead of sweat start at her neck and slide down, just skimming over the rounded edge of her left breast and falling in to her shirt. Absently, she dabbed at where the sweat drop had been and as her shirt fell back down I could swear her nipple swelled even a little more. Goosebumps were starting to form on the aureoles and her whole breast looked fuller than even a second ago.
My mouth was getting dry, and I knew somewhere that I was staring. What should have been a casual look over to make sure she could get the bait was turning into a study of my sister's tits. I couldn't look away. . . I imagined feeling her in my hand, sucking the tight red teats and licking the line of sweat from the tip of her nipple all the way up her neck.
My hands got a little clammy, and just then I heard the line start to pull on the fishing pole.
"Oh, Danny, you got one!" Sherry squealed, looking up from the bucket and over the side where my bob was under water and pulling away. She put her left hand on the side of the boat, and steadied herself with her right hand on my knee.
The line ran for a few seconds before I snapped it up taut and started working it in. Just like my Dad had taught me, I'd pull up on the pole, then pull the line in as I let the pole drift down. Up and down, with steady tension the whole time.
