Every single time, once the tent was set up and the gear stowed away, Meg would immediately strip down to nothing and wade into the water.
The great thing about the Cascades is that it's littered with little mountain lakes, many of them really shallow ponds of clear water from snow and glacial runoff that, because they're shallow, warm up enough by late July to be comfortable for a swim. Most can't be driven to. Meg and Matthew hiked seven miles to get to this little lake. There were dozens in the area to choose from, but this one had no other tents around it, so they took it.
Matt and Meg had made a habit of coming up to the lakes each year during an August weekend, normally the one before they each headed back to college. The twins had discovered the outdoors largely on their own. Neither of their parents so much as ever took a walk in the woods. But through friends and different camps they got sent to as kids, tromping around in nature became part of what they did. They liked the sounds and sights, the general peace found out in the wilderness away from the crowds. They took pictures, drew some sketches, scaled up hillsides for the view. They liked the food they cooked over the burner, the taste of the morning coffee, but really, during the August trip, they enjoyed the tent.
In August, the tent was their place. Their world within the world.
And they liked skinny dipping. Especially, Meg.
Matt watched her standing ankle-deep in the water, her cute little back dimples right above the bottom she insisted was too big but was really just right for her. She stood there gazing at the hills and trees across the lake, their limbs moving in a breeze.
"Meg," he said, "You're going to get burned. The light up here is more intense and reflecting off the water. You need some lotion. Come and get oiled up."
"After I swim," she said turning her head to him.
"No, you'll be wet." He already had the lotion with him. He held the bottle up. "Come on."
She turned around and walked over to him, then standing in front of him, she turned her back to him. Her head came up to his chin. "Hurry up," she said.
Matt squirted lotion in his hand and put the bottle down. He rubbed his palms together, and then took hold of her shoulders, smearing the lotion over them and then down her arms. Another squirt into his palm, then he held her left arm up until it was horizontal, and with both hands worked the lotion into it. Then her right arm. She kept her arms outstretched, has he ran his hands down her sides from underneath her arms to her hips. This time he squirted some lotion directly on her back and kneaded it in over her shoulder blades, down her spine to the small of her back. Another direct squirt and he massaged the lotion over her butt cheeks then, crouching down, he did each leg as he had done each arm. Standing, he filled his hands with lotion, then reached around her, rubbed it into her flat tummy and around her trim pussy, then up again to her breasts, which he cupped in his hands before finally rubbing it into her sternum and up to her neck, front and back. She turned to face him, lifted her chin. Kissed him softly.
"You should put a little more on your face," he said.
"I did already. Before we started hiking."
"Do a little more," he said. "Protect those freckles on your cheeks."
"You love my freckles," she said.
"True. I do."
He put some lotion in her hand. She did her nose and cheeks, and then spun around to the water, and ran on in. When she was knee-deep, she slid under the surface. She lay under it except for her head as she looked back to her brother on shore.
"Come on in," she said. Then added: "Oh, I probably should have waited to help you with your lotion. Sorry. I can come out."
"It's all good," Matt replied. He took of his tee-shirt, then his shoes and socks, and finally his shorts and boxers together. He put some lotion in his hands and haphazardly began rubbing it into his skin.
"Don't forget your penis," she called out a little louder than necessary. "Remember that time it got burned and the tip turned red because you don't have a foreskin? You looked like Rudolph." She reminded him of that one time every single camping trip.
He did as she asked. His penis was happily inflated, but not hard. Just glad for the freedom and the company.
"I'll get your back later," she said as he waded in and then laid down in the water next to her. "You should poke your penis up from under the water like a periscope." Another of her favorite jokes.
"He's fine where he is."
The stayed under the water and scooted out to the middle of the lake where the water was waist-deep and they could comfortably kneel down with only their heads above the surface. They each had blue-green eyes. They leaned forward and kissed. He reached a hand forward and ran a finger along the slit of her pussy. A smile surface on her lips. They gazed at one another as he gently caressed her.
All their life there had been something of a world shared between them. They arrived as the surprise child times two, and as such caused their parents seemingly eternal anxiety. What they thought (and had hoped) would be a girl to bring the family to a total of five, was instead a set of twins needing twice the attention. Or as their dad would say, twins are the work squared, not doubled. Same for the expense. Their sister was twelve years older and their brother ten years older. They seemed more like an aunt and uncle than siblings. She was sweet natured, but moved across the country early on. He wasn't. They both agreed, along with most other people, that their brother was a conceited prick. He was still in the area and had an important job and a lovely family -- which meant grandkids that their parents obsessed over.
But Meg and Matt had each other. Outside the family, they led respectable, but not remarkable, lives. Neither amazing at school nor horrible. Neither especially athletic nor lethargic. They both liked to draw, but nothing they did would ever hang in a gallery. Nothing they ever drew hung on a wall in their parents' house. They went to separate colleges, did well enough, had acceptable friends, and along the way had had and lost acceptable love interests. Meg had a boyfriend whom she insisted was definitely not The One, but who flattered her and kept her happy at school. Matt was single, largely by choice as the previous girlfriend had had a possessive streak. Nothing alarming, just annoying.
In the midst of all this convention and ordinariness, they had each other. They weren't the type of twins who finished each other's thoughts, but they laughed at each other's jokes. Always. even if just internally. Away from it all, they could venture into the woods -- something made better by their parents and, especially, their brother saying they just didn't get it. Why all the fuss to be out with the bugs in the sticks? That sort of alienation fostered an isolation that brought them together. Enveloped them. Made them comfortable in their skin. Made them touchable. Made the world something they viewed from within their bond.
Meg leaned into her brother's shoulder. His finger skirted along the edges. Nothing aggressive. Just caring. Exhilarating.
