We were the last ones in the campground to turn in. To turn from the fire and got thee to tent. We left tons of beer in the cooler. We'd just buy another bag of ice and make that tomorrow night.
Sandra was first in the tent, so she found and turned on the camp-lamp. Ours only looked like one. It had a base and a shade and you could hang it from a tree, but basically it was just a flashlight. Glorified.
The tent was tall enough to stand up in, if you didn't stand too tall. She got her shoes off, and then my sister stood up and dropped her pants. They plummeted to her ankles and she gently stepped out of them. It was like she was taunting me with the view of her panties.
She turned from me and was more modest as she shed her shirts and slipped into a nightshirt with a little bit of lace. The nightshirt wasn't any better at hiding her panties.
Was I that terrible of a brother that I would think of my sister in such terms? You bet! After a long denial, it would be suddenly easy to get her panties off.
I stripped down to my boxers and skipped the fancy shirt change. Settling down into my sleeping bag. I thought Sandra was reaching for the light, but then her hands were seizing me. She was holding my head and sniffing and kissing along my scalp line.
She started kissing back down towards my lips. "I've been fantasizing all night about what it'd be like to be utterly ravished by a guy with the smell of campfire smoke thick in his hair. It's been driving me nuts."
I seemed to fit that bill.
"And about how hot it would be if that guy happened to be my own brother."
It was like my numbers were clicking to win the Power Ball. I plunged ahead early knowing I'd win. I'd won many times before, but it'd been a long time; time had slowed down and sped up and become harder to steal in the years since we'd married and started families.
Sandra and I grew up camping, loving every stinky second of it. Our parents were ready to pack the tents in the station wagon every chance they got, any time of year. There was nothing better than going to bed in a sleeping bag, your head on a pillow in a halo of hair smelling of campfire smoke.
Funny how we both married people who hated even the idea of going camping.
It was on a February outing when I was 16 that it started. It was cold camping, which made the campfire even greater. It was easy enough to dress enough to stay warm.
There was a possibility of snow flurries that night, which would just make the morning even prettier. Instead some weird fronts shifted like tectonics. We had to abandon the campfire and ditch for our tents when the snow poured down in inches in minutes. We were safe in our tents when the snow turned into a monsoon of rain for half an hour. Then the temperature dropped 20 degrees. We got into our sleeping bags wearing all of our clothes.
It was my shivering 15-year-old sister who first suggested we unzip our sleeping bags and overlap them, sharing our body warmth. Arms around one another, it started with Sandra kissing my neck, moving up to kiss my cheek. And then she moved over, her lips questioning mine. I started returning my sister's kisses. We danced in a delicate garden. We moved so slowly, just barely touching. I leisurely shifted a hand down from the back of her shoulder, sliding down and over to cup her closest breast. I felt its core softness through what felt like 27 layers of clothing.
Even together, entwined, it was still too cold to take any clothes off. I did get to slide my hand, encouraged by her hands, up under her tops, palm against her flesh, up from her old warm soft belly to her new warm soft breasts. I thought that was the cat's meow, though probably the limit. Until Sandra's little hands were rubbing my appreciation of her in the front of my pants.
We didn't really undress. Though Sandra quickly unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped enough of me to take me in her hands. "It's so big," she exclaimed, "and though so hard so soft, like velvet." She blushed in explanation, "I've never touched one before."
I loved how she touched me, but I couldn't just lay back. I got Sandra's pants unzipped and shoved down enough with her help that I could slip a hand down in her panties.
I was sixteen when I touched my first pussy. It was wet and willing. And it belonged to my fifteen-year-old sister. Who happened to be giving me a hand job. I knew just enough to finger her a bit and then slide up the slippery slit to find the bump that mattered.
It didn't take long for my sister to make me make a mess in our sleeping bags. But even I was surprised when right as that was happening, Sandra gave a short quiet cry, her thighs squeezing my hand, until she relaxed enough to yank my hand out of her panties, as though throwing it away.
When her panting subsided, she kissed me. We whispered about our virginities, both noting how the other's hands made the touching stuff so much better.
Camping became even more exciting when mouths were introduced. As did furtive home life. A few months later, our parents put together and paid a substantial non-refundable down payment on this four-day rafting and camping expedition to coincide with our Spring Break. But they got the week wrong. That week in school was heavy with testing.
Our parents went away for the week while we were old enough to attend school and take care of ourselves. They were barely ten minutes out of the driveway before Sandra hooked her arm through mine and led me to her room. Where we quietly undressed, and slowly starting touching. Sandra took my hand and led me to her bed.
I thought we would roll around together and kiss and touch some more.
But Sandra wasted no time in letting me know what she wanted. My sister settled on her back in the middle of her bed, legs spread, offering herself up to me.
"Really?" I asked, towering over her, turgid and ready.
"Totally ready," she waggled her thighs like beckoning fans. I could see her glistening readiness. I'd barely moved between her legs when she grabbed my shaft and pulled me towards her. And guided me into her.
There was nothing ever better than that very moment. I entered Sandra, and she was so slippery for it. I could barely contain myself. I thought my sister's mouth was awesome--I hadn't met her pussy yet. But I couldn't go all the way in. I was tapping against her cherry.
"Do it!" my sister hissed, "Take me, make me yours."
I tore through my sister's hymen, and then we rested from the exertion. Sandra adjusted to me, and began nipping at my ears as her pain segued into pleasure. "We're fucking," she announced, roiling her hips against mine. We lost our virginities in her bed. Once she was done, I was due fast. I tried to control the incredible feelings, but I was new at the wheel, so I crashed pretty fast.
I started exploding inside my sister, when suddenly she gave a sharp cry and her cunt went to milking every drop I had.
I collapsed like I was dead, while Sandra gazed at me with a radiant smile. We lay like that for awhile, our fingers trailing like spiders across each other's bodies. I started getting hard again. Fancy that!
Sandra was on the pill to regulate her new erratic cycle, ease the cramps, so we went to school and made dinner and fucked about 27 times again before our parents returned. After that was a week where they had to go to work and we were off school. I didn't have to set my alarm--Sandra was always in my bed waking me up long enough we could sleep some more together, totally sated, until nearly noon. When we'd wake up and just work up an appetite for lunch.
I remembered those near daily encounters, eruptions of passions. Time had passed, but Time could kiss my ass tonight!
I unzipped my sister's sleeping bag all the way down to her feet. She unzipped mine, and then we were kissing like crazy fish.
My sister was crushing her breasts up against my chest, just the two thin layers of cloth separation. But I ignored her tits, running my main hand down between her legs. Sandra giggled as I insisted, spreading for me, my middle finger finding the damp cloth between her legs. Then I slipped it under the elastic, tracing up the split of her ready cunt.
"Someone is very excited," I gazed at my sister.
"This crazy fantasy I was having, it got me all worked up. Especially now that it's coming true."
With that, I got up on my knees, and pulled down my sister's panties. Unencumbered, her thighs went wide for me again. "Everyone in all the other tents are having sex, so why not us?" she smiled.
Sandra was playing with me. We'd acted on that urge ages ago. We were going camping to play catch-up. So I grinned down at her and stuck two fingers up inside her.
I was in a tent finger-fucking my little sister. She pawed at my other wrist. "Fucking rub my clit," she hissed. I did as told, and then she was coming all over my fingers.
I shoved my boxers down and showed myself. "Ready to come all over my cock next?" Sandra slung her legs around me to grab my body just like that.
"Fuck this sleeping bag shit, let's get totally naked in our tent." We started shedding our every last sock, falling finally together.
The tip of me was just nudging her pussy lips apart, spreading the web of her wetness. I was ready to stall and watch her finish, stripping off her nightshirt and showing me those sisterly tits. I complied by getting my boxers past my ankles, peeling off my own shirt.
.... There is more of this story ...