Fated

One of my coworkers at the university library needed to trade a few shifts to go home for a long weekend, as her brother was getting married. That meant that I had a Monday off, although I would end up working the following Sunday. Still, it would be nice to have a weekday off for once.

Eric thought so as well, and arranged to get the same Monday off from work so that we could go canoeing on a local river and actually enjoy ourselves. Being a Monday, we reasoned, there would be far fewer people on the river, so instead of dodging other canoes, we could actually pay attention to the scenery around us.

That Monday morning, we awoke to rain. Fortunately, there was no thunder and no lightning. We had expected rain, but still, it was a little disappointing.

"Remember," my big brother reminded me as he gave me a loving squeeze underneath the sheet which covered us, "rain is wet and so is the river. We're going to get wet anyhow, so we may as well go, so long as the forecast hasn't changed to include storms."

We checked

WeatherBug

, and fortunately the only change in the forecast was to increase the percent chance of rain during the day. By the time we left the apartment, in fact, the sun was piercing through the clouds, although to the west, another set of darkened clouds were approaching.

I wore my bikini and had added a pair of shorts, so that I would have pockets in which to keep a little money as we descended the river. It did sadden me a little, as we were checking in and then waiting for a lift upriver to the start of the canoeing run, that some of the staff – including two of the women working there – seemed to think less of me because of my small breasts.

There was an older couple with us in the van as we rode to our starting points. They were only doing a four-mile trek, while Eric and I had opted for the nine-mile trek. Since we were younger and smaller, Eric and I sat in the back of the van, allowing the older couple to sit in the row by the sliding door. If they or the driver glanced back to see Eric's hand on the inside of my thigh, they did not react.

The ride to the four-mule starting point was a bumpy one along a dirt road which was really only used to take canoeists to their starting points. Even my smallish breasts seemed to bounce a lot as the van rolled along that particular road. I had purposely tied my hair into a ponytail for this adventure, and the way the end of the ponytail brushed across my shoulders and my exposed upper back was quite sensual, making the bumpiness of the road worthwhile.

The rain began to fall again lightly as the driver helped the older couple unload their canoe from the trailer. When he got back into the van after having helped them to push off and begin their journey, he looked in the rearview mirror at me and smiled. "At least you're already dressed for getting wet, young lady."

We all smiled at that. After five bumpier miles of friendly banter and tips about the first part of our trek, we arrived. The rain had abated by the time we had the canoe in the water, but it was clear that a light warm sprinkle would accompany us for a long, long time.

Eric and I did not hurry. It was only 10:30AM when we began the run: plenty of time for a leisurely descent of the river. I paddled slowly at the front of the canoe while Eric handled the steering from the back. At one point, I heard him place his oar across the metal canoe, and when I glanced back, I smiled appreciatively as I watched him finally remove his shirt. I wished that I could do the same, even though he still would only be seeing my back for most of the run, but satisfied myself with wearing the bikini again.

The rapids were few but fun. The wildlife which roamed the banks of the river skittish yet beautiful. The calls of the birds combined with the flow of the river and the occasional distant bark of a dog to create a serenity which was actually enhanced by the light warm sprinkles.

After about two miles, the rain began to increase in intensity, but there was still no thunder or lightning, so the journey continued. Ahead, there was a river shop, with picnic tables shaded by large umbrellas, and as we approached, I could even faintly hear the electronic sounds of classic video games, and knew that we would be there a while.

Lunch was sandwiches and Dr. Pepper, with entertainment provided by

Dig Dug

and

Pole Position II

. I was not surprised that Eric insisted I try the racing game, and once I became accustomed to the inherent oversteer, I felt I did fairly well, actually qualifying third and lasting nearly three full laps of the race itself.

We continued our journey, picking up the pace a little but still slow enough to enjoy the scenery. While our pre-lunch travel had been primarily in silence, we began to chatter more after leaving the river shop.

"There's the split," Eric announced. The driver had mentioned that at about halfway, there would be a large island splitting the river, and that the left route would have some rather fast rapids. What neither Eric nor I had anticipated, however, was the size of the island and just how heavily covered it would be with trees and underbrush.

"Care to explore the island?" my big brother inquired, and I replied with a nod. We took the route to the right, and soon discovered that the island had a miniature "bay" where we could easily beach the canoe.

The island must have been about a half-mile in length, and maybe a quarter-mile wide. There was a clear path away from the bay, so we followed it to discover a small clearing with a well-weathered picnic table and a small campfire pit. The grass was rather tall, and I wondered how often anyone would come here to mow the grass, then realized that perhaps the "mowers" were the area animals, perhaps the local deer, who might venture onto the island, crossing the river at the rapids on the left side of the island.

The overhang of the tall trees provided a bit of a canopy, protecting us from much of the rain which continued to fall a little harder. There was something about this place, something special, something almost magical.

Stepping up behind me, my big brother wrapped his arms around my chest. I murmured a contentment as I leaned back into his chest, my hands brushing along his forearms. This felt right.

This felt fated.

After a few moments, I realized that, finally, this was my chance. I stepped out of Eric's hold for just a moment, then reached behind me, pulling at the strings at my mid-back. Hearing my big brother's louder-than-expected inhalation, I smiled to myself.

Soon, all the strings holding my bikini bra in place had been untied, only an arm across my chest prevented me from being truly topless. I turned around to face my big brother, awed by the expression of anticipation upon his face. It was such a counterpoint to the reaction of the staff when we had arrived and waited at the canoe base earlier that day.

With an arm still holding the cups of the bikini bra in place, I stepped to him and tipped my head upward. With his arms around me, we kissed.

It was long and slow, deep and heartfelt. It was a kiss which loved and which promised. It was a kiss which was interrupted only long enough for me to extract my arm and allow the bikini bra to descend between us and alight upon our sandaled feet.

My bare flesh against his, the kiss resumed. The heartfelt kiss, the loving arms, the tranquility of Nature... everything conspired to arouse us both, and I was not at all surprised when we began to slowly descend to our knees in the tall grass of the clearing...

The rain fell harder, cleansing the landscape – and cleansing us both as well, for we soon undressed each other, as bare as when we each had been born. I was wet, both outside and inside, when the foreplay ended and the actual lovemaking began.

On hands and knees, I was entered from behind. In the heavier rainfall, I pulled at the tall grass. my cheek and my chest on the ground as my big brother pleasured my body. He kept pushing into me, again and again, with a rhythm which I knew would tip me over the edge of sanity, and when I fell into the depths of orgasm, he reached around my hip and rapidly fingered my clitoris, prolonging my release, strengthening my cries, stopping only because he completed me with his love, his groans of release augmenting the beauty of our natural act.

Naked, we cuddled in the clearing, in the tall grass, in the thickening downpour. The rain warmed us, as did our love. In time, he entered me again, this time as I was on my back, my knees pressed into my chest, and although the clouds were somewhat dark and my eyes were full of rain, I saw my big brother's face in the heavens.

*****

We had fortunately thought to bring a few large towels and keep them in the truck of Eric's car, for we definitely needed them when the trek had sadly ended. We dried ourselves beside the car, each of us looking fondly toward the river one final time, each of us remembering the unexpected clearing on the island in the middle of the river.

For most of the drive back into the city and back to the apartment, my big brother's hand was on my left thigh as he drove. Nothing was said, for our hearts had said it all, passionately, in the clearing.