My family has always had a sort of tradition at least that’s what my dad says. Every summer we go camping for two weeks, no mater what else we do, two weeks out of the summer are devoted to camping.
The summer after my twin brother and I turned 18 we decided that because it was likely to be our last for a while that we would go camping for a whole two months. Eight weeks in the semi-wild wilderness. Campfires, and clean air, fresh caught fish, and the joy of the outdoors. We decided early on that we would head for our favorite camp spot high in the mountains were winter never really goes away for more than a week at a time.
We arrived late in the day and as each of us knew what to do to get camp set up we went about our chores and in sort order had the basics of our temporary home set up, that’s when disaster struck. My brother who after setting up the stove and the wash stand had been digging in the supplies for his tent, a two man dome tent, that is honestly ancient compared to my cutting edge self erecting four person dome tent. His cry had alerted us to something bad and when he emerged from the truck we could see that bad was not the word for it, his tent, or more appropriately what was left of his tent was in shreds. The bag and tent itself were little more than scraps of discolored fabric and though the poles were still intact the elastic holding them together had also gone the direction of the tent fabric.
While dad tried to find some way to fix the tent so that I was usable, I set up my own tent. After about an hour dad gave up and the remains of the tent went in the local trash can. Now it needed to be decided where my brother would sleep. It was immediately obvious that a new tent could not be gotten as the nearest camping store was a hundred miles away down a long winding mountain road that no sane person would take in the dark. So, in the spirit of cooperation I volunteered to let him sleep with me in my tent. Our parents agreed, believing at that time correctly, that their children were mature enough not to get into any mischief if left alone together.
So that night as we settled down to sleep our parents in one tent on one side of the camp, my brother and I in my tent on the other side of camp. The night passed peacefully enough though I had some of the most erotic dreams that I had ever had. The next morning as the sun rose over the hills and woke us I found out the reason for my erotic dreams.
During the night my brother and I had closed the distance between us and ended up spooned together with his arm draped over my shoulder and his very large well muscled hand cupping my left breast. Trying very hard not to laugh I carefully lifted his paw off me and rolled out from under his arm. Reaching my side of the tent I unzipped myself from my bag and exited from the tent. Sitting down at the camp table I became aware of a tickling sensation between my legs and reaching down to scratch it my hand came away damp with my sweet smelling juices. Quickly glancing down I saw that the dark material of my sweats around my crotch was even darker and that what I had taken for one of the myriad wilderness smells was in fact the heady aroma of my own arousal.
I got up from the bench just in time to watch my brother emerge from the tent. If anything he had a bigger stain on the crotch of his sweats than I did. He did not see me and I didn’t say anything but I knew then that as long as he and I were sleeping in the same tent we were in for some interesting times. The day passed well enough, hiking and swimming, neither of us mentioned to our parents or to each other what had happened the previous night.
That night we again climbed into our tents and went to sleep, the next morning was almost and exact copy of the previous one with one exception, I found that I woke up extremely horny and that it took two sessions with my vibrator in the camp showers to satisfy me. I knew I would have to do something about the situation.
That afternoon I took a long walk by myself casually tossing off my families inquires as to where I was going and why as the need to be alone because of PMS. This was a valid explanation; as my mother knew that I was due to have a period within the next week. As I walked along the stream leading to the camps enormous natural swimming hole I thought about the last two nights that I and my brother had spent together in my tent, I call it my tent because what boy is going to have a hot pink and emerald green with neon orange trim dome tent. I recalled with a quiet burst of lust the feel of his hand as it cupped my breast the last two mornings. The hot insatiable lust that had nearly consumed me at the feel of his body pressed front to back against mine, even through the sleeping bags. The almost primal urge to rip his clothes from his body when I had seen him emerge from the tent on both mornings with a huge spreading stain on the bulging crotch of his sweats.
I passed the swimming hole and stopped at a calm pool further down and in the still water examined my reflection. What I saw looking back at me in calm cool reflective examination was not the girl that I had thought I still was. Nor was it the woman who was inside waiting for time to bring her to the fore. What I saw was me, all six feet one hundred and ten pounds of woman/child who at 18 had yet to taste anything of the opposite sex not made by machine. Auburn hair grown to the waist and braided in a hip length tail, gray green eyes flashing in the lowering sun, tan skin smooth as silk, breasts that stretched the front of the button down flannel cutoff shirt until it threatened with every breath to burst. A flat tight belly sleek and smooth as a hunting cats pelt, hips that my mother always said meant I could have as many children as I wanted but that I always felt until now were too broad. Legs tan and slim, runner’s legs that could out distance even my brother who ran cross-country for fun. All in all a picture of a woman not quite a girl anymore but not yet a full grown woman.
I don’t know how long I stood there nor how long he was standing behind me but as the last rays of the setting sun glinted on the calm pool I saw him standing there just off to the side. I looked up with a start not recognizing him for a moment and then relaxing with a whooshing sigh. He looked up a smile coming to his lips. He did not move, he just stood there with his hands in his pockets not looking down but at the same time not looking up. I felt a puckish smile coming to my lips as I stepped lightly across the mossy ground and came to stand next to him. “So” I said “did mom send you to find me or are you on your own little soul search?”
The smile that came to his lips was almost and exact mirror of mine. “No” he said “mom didn’t send me, though she would have if I hadn’t taken my own little walk after you left, and yes I am on my own little soul search. Though it seems to me kind of strange that we should end up at the same pool. Don’t you think?” His eyes slid up my body to look directly into mine. His piercing gaze was like cool water over hot skin, soothing, refreshing taking away the guilty heat that been heating my blood and boiling my brain and conscience into the fervor that had brought me to this pool in search of answers that I hadn’t really found.
He reached out his hand, that big strong well-muscled hand that for the last two mornings had cupped my breast. He reached out his hand and lightly grasped my upper arm. It was the kind of grasp that demanded nothing and yet encouraged everything.
My breath quickened, I could feel the material of my shirt pull tighter against breasts. The feeling was electric it flashed through my heart in a jolt and spread with tingling warmth and cool electricity through my breasts and belly. I reached up with that same hand and grasped his arm letting his strength draw me in. Letting his eyes take me, and the touch of his body as I kissed his lips hold me as our bodies pressed together.
