Jesus, Sis and Me

What Sis likes even more than playing catch is stargazing. She knows the names to all the planets, most of the stars, and many of the constellations. We'd go up to Lookout Rock on a moonless night, and she'd point them out to me, one by one.

"That's Orion," she'd say in a whisper, like it was a secret. "And that's the Big Dipper."

I think it was Sis' way of escaping this dusty, worn out place. Up there on Lookout Rock, she could just float up to the heavens and be anywhere she wanted to be. I wasn't that interested in astronomy, but I went up there with her anyway. What I liked about it was, when she'd be pointing out Pluto and Mars, I'd be standing right behind her so I could follow where she was pointing, and sometimes, if it was chilly, she'd pull my arms around her to keep her warm, and I'd get to smell her hair. My favorite was her girlie-shampoo smell, which is all flowery and nice, but if she'd been working all day, her hair might smell like alfalfa, or blueberry bushes, or pine boughs. That was fine. I even liked it when she hadn't bathed in a while and her hair smelled like one of our hound dogs. I think maybe it wasn't the smell so much as it was the closeness; just the two of us, whispering in the dark.

That's what we were doing that Monday night after the tickle fight gone bad and the game of catch. We were up at Lookout Rock. She was pointing out some new constellation she'd just read about (and I forget the name of,) and then she pulled my arms around her to keep her warm, but it was already warm, so I was a little surprised. I was even more surprised when she asked me if I wanted to practice-kiss. Even though I did want to practice-kiss with her, I had to explain (for the hundredth time) that we were only allowed to practice-kiss on Church Property, in honor of the Lord's Teachings.

"What if we don't kiss?" she whispered. That caught me off guard, and while I was pondering a proper response, she grabbed my hands and fished them up under the front of her sweatshirt.

"Go ahead," she whispered. "We're not kissing, right?" She shoved my hands up under her bra and let me feel her pear-sized bosoms; except that they didn't feel like pears at all, they felt all soft and squishy, like a couple of water balloons left over from Halloween.

We stood there in the dark for a while, and when I started investigating her nipples, she leaned her head back and let out a big sigh. Suddenly, my lips were touching the side of her neck, and for a second, I thought Jesus would smite us, thinking we were kissing, but technically, we weren't kissing, we were just fooling around, so I think Jesus was okay with it.

"Do you like how my tits feel?" she whispered, her eyes closed, her lips curled in a Christmas smile.

"Yeah, Sis," I said.

"Squeeze my nipples," she whispered. I did, and it was like turning on a light switch. All of a sudden, she was writhing, and panting, and the next thing I knew, she was stuffing my hand down into her pants, which she'd somehow managed to unbutton.

I suppose when she shoved my finger down into her wet spot I should have stopped and reflected on what I was doing, but I was sort of caught up in the moment. Plus, to be honest, she had a death grip on my hand and I don't think I could have pulled it out of there if I tried, so there I was, one hand on her left bosom, the other buried in her wet spot, and my pecker feeling like it was going to explode. I had no choice. I jammed the front of my jeans up against her butt and started rubbing.

That's when I noticed the smell emanating from between her legs, like some kind of spring salad my mom might have concocted, with blueberries from down by the river, and fresh vegetables from our garden, and some kind of special fish sauce from a recipe her grandmother had given her. Sis' new woman-smell was so intoxicating, I almost missed seeing the blue-white shooting star that swooped down out of the sky and plopped behind the mountains. In fact, it looked like it dropped right into the lake, which is just over on the other side of Blue Dog Ridge. The shooting star sort of woke me back up, and I wondered if it was a sign from Jesus? Was He telling me Sis and I were committing a sin, or was it a sign of his blessing? It was very confusing, since we weren't practice-kissing or anything; we were just watching the stars.

What happened next was very similar to what happened in the church pew. Sis started panting, and hanging her mouth open, and grinding my finger into her wet spot, and then she started vibrating, but that's not the weird part. The weird part was, when she started vibrating, her springy butt was pressed up against my pecker, and my pecker decided to spit, right there inside my jeans. It was a moment I'll never forget. I believe I saw a dozen shooting stars in that moment, but that couldn't be, since I'd never seen a dozen shooting stars all at once before, so I just chalked it up to my imagination.

We stayed like that for a nice long while, Sis panting like she'd just finished loading the hay wagon, and me pressing my stinging pecker against her butt, making sure there was no spit left in it. Finally, she pulled my hand out from down between her legs.

"We should probably get back, huh?" Sis whispered.

"Yeah," I said, wiping my smelly finger on my jeans.

I liked walking back down the hill with Sis' hand in mine. It felt like we had shared something special together, up there leaning against Lookout Rock. I'll admit, it was a little icky feeling inside my shorts, but it was worth it. My only regret was that we couldn't practice-kiss, because it seemed that would have been the perfect way to end the night. Just as we were coming down off the ridge, Sis stopped abruptly. "Do you think we'll ever leave this place?" she asked.

I looked down at the valley below us. I saw my truck, and Dad's rusted out old Pontiac, and the tractor, and the dim light coming from our upstairs bathroom window. I shrugged. "I don't know Sis. Where would we go?... Besides France," I said, grabbing my jeans, so she couldn't pull them down.

"San Francisco," she said, with a sense of certainty. I was going to ask her why San Francisco, but Sis always knows best, and there was no reason to doubt her.

That night, lying in my bed, I realized I liked the new Sis much better than the old Sis. The old Sis would never have let me touch her wet spot, or let me play with her bosoms up on Lookout Rock, or press her body up against mine and jiggle like the hay-wagon ride, but the new one would. The most puzzling part about the new Sis was the falling star I'd seen up at Lookout Rock. What did it mean?

I thought about that falling star most of the night, and by morning I'd come up with the answer. Since the falling star had plopped into the lake, and the lake was the reward for the no-panties dare, Jesus was telling me he approved of what Sis and I were doing.

I thanked Jesus for his Revelation, and I thanked Him for letting me touch my sister's wet spot. I also told Him I realized the road to enlightenment could be arduous, and I was grateful that He would be accompanying Sis and I on our journey into the unknown. When I finished talking to Him, the sunrise sent a shaft of golden light through my window, which proved that He had, indeed, been listening.

The Lake

Patty was waiting out front of her folk's house when we drove up. She looked just like a model from the Sears catalog, with her fancy bermuda shorts and her checked blouse like a tablecloth.

"Hi kids," she said.

I don't know why she always called us kids. I guess maybe because she was one year older than Sis? But we weren't children, for crying out loud, we were adults... well, adults who'd never had sex, but who has sex until they get married anyway? People who live in the city and don't believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, that's who.

"Got your swimsuit" Sis asked.

"Of course," Patty said, swinging her pink bag up into Sis' lap. Sis scooted over to let her in, which, a week ago, would have been a huge disappointment for me. A week ago, I would have wanted Patty sitting next to me so I could smell her hair and feel her hip smooshed up against mine, but this week, I was glad it was Sis. Ever since Lookout Ridge, I felt as though Sis and I had a special connection, something only she and I knew about. It was empowering (another word I heard on a TV talk show once.)

"Check out my new swimsuit," Sis said, unbuttoning her blouse.

"Cool" Patty said with a grin. Patty has a great smile; just like a toothpaste commercial. In fact, I'd have to say she's quite a bit cuter than Sis. Patty has the big brown puppy eyes, rosy cheeks, freckles, and a swivel in her walk that would make a belly dancer jealous. (Not that I've ever seen a real live belly dancer in person, but we do have neighbors with a TV out here in the sticks.)

I was going to ask Patty when she was going to change into her swimsuit, since that was part of the bargain, but I didn't want to seem too anxious, so I let it slide. I fired up the truck and Patty pulled a cassette out of her bag and stuck it in the player.

"Check it out," she said. "It's a new band called Heart."

"Rhymes with fart," I said.

Sis slugged me in the shoulder. "Shut up," she growled, as the sound of electric guitars and drums filled the cab of the pickup. I have to admit, once I got used to it, I kind of liked it. Our parents wouldn't let us listen to secular music, but Patty didn't care. She was always bringing us new stuff to listen to when my folks weren't around.

The music went on and on, and then they played the tape again, and this time they were singing along. "Dog and butterfly." What in God's name does that mean? Why would someone write a song about a dog and a butterfly? Then there was the one about the magic man with the magic hands. I guess I always did like magic, but I don't think that's what they were talking about in the song. Every time the singer said "hands", Patty and Sis would grab each other's thighs and giggle. Girls can be so stupid.

Before we knew it, we were at the top of Blue Dog Ridge, the lake shimmering below us like a blue-green emerald plopped in the middle of the golden hills. I reached for the dashboard and stopped the tape. "Um, Patty..." I said, slowing the truck, "weren't you supposed to change into your swimsuit on the way to the lake?"

"You were serious?" she said, frowning as if I'd just farted at the dinner table.

"Well,,, yeah. It was part of the deal."

"You didn't say he was serious, Shirley."

Sis shrugged.

"This is so stupid," Patty said as she started undoing the buttons of her blouse. Just as she got it unbuttoned and I could see her white lacy bra and her big melon bosoms jiggling like jello, Sis grabbed her towel and held it up like a curtain, shielding my view of Patty undressing.

"Hey!" I said, grabbing at it with one hand.

"Matthew 5:28," Sis said, with that smug goody-two-shoes look on her face. It didn't dawn on me right then, but Sis always did have a way of picking and choosing her Bible verses, depending on whether or not they reinforced whatever decision it was she was trying to justify. I sighed, peeking past the edge of the towel curtain as Patty shimmied out of her bermuda shorts. Next came her panties, pink and lacy. I was so intent on spying on her, I sort of forgot about watching the road.

"Hey!" Sis squealed, as the truck rattled into the ditch. She dropped her towel curtain to grab the dashboard, and I saw Patty, completely naked, her tits bounced up and down like a pair of fishing buoys out on the lake. With one eye on the road and the other on Patty, I pulled the truck back on the gravel just in time.

"Bobby!" Sis whined, "is seeing Patty naked worth dying for?"

"Sorry," I said, as I downshifted into second. Sis picked up her towel to give Patty her privacy, but it was too late. The image of Patty naked was burned into my mind forever, especially her baby chute, which looked more like some kind of pink orchid flower squished betweens her thighs.

Looking past the edge of the towel, I could see Patty stepping into her pink one-piece suit and slipping it up her legs. I really wanted to see how she fit her bosoms into the thing, but Sis and her stupid towel wouldn't let me. Just then, as we rounded a blind curve, a big fat RV appeared in front of us.

"Eeek!" Patty squealed. Sis threw the towel over Patty's chest, but it was too late. It was obvious by the driver's expression, had already seen it. As the RV rumbled passed, I heard a smashing sound. I looked in the rear view mirror, and the RV had taken out two fence posts and knocked a mailbox down into the gully.

"Oops", I said, trying to cover up my guilt for almost killing the blue-haired couple in the RV.

"Idiot," Sis said, pulling the towel back up so Patty could finish.

With Patty safely suited up, I pulled into the parking lot, and while the girls were in the bathroom, I looked around. There were only a few people there; an old guy with a dog, a young couple with little kids, and three rowboats out fishing. That was a good sign. I knew of a little secluded cove, over at the end of the lake, and it looked as though it would be deserted.

We grabbed our blankets and towels and trekked over there, and sure enough, there wasn't a soul around.

"I love it!" Patty exclaimed. The girls dashed into the water, and I spread out the blanket, watching Sis and Patty cavorting like little kids. After a few minutes, they traipsed back up and flopped down on the blanket.

"Do my back?" Patty asked Sis, as she handed her the Coppertone. Then she pulled the straps off her shoulders. "God I hate these one-piece swimsuits." She looked up at me. "Is anyone going to mind if we, you know, go topless?"

"Won't bother me," I reassured her. Sis shot me a dirty look. Patty ignored her.


"Good," she said, as she peeled her swimsuit clear down past her hips.

"Patty!" Sis exclaimed in shock.


"Who's going to see us?" Patty asked. "And if they do, what's going to happen? Will we get arrested for lying on our tummies with our bare backs showing?"

Sis gave up arguing and slathered Patty's back with lotion. Then Patty convinced Sis to pull her suit down too, (with her back turned to me, of course) and a few minutes later, they were both on their tummies, broiling in the sun. I could have sat there all day, staring at the side of Patty's smooshed out tit, but I forgot to bring sodas, so I headed back to the parking lot to see if the concession stand had any left after the weekend.

Climbing up on the ridge overlooking the cove, I took one last look to see if the girls were alright. I'm glad I did. Patty had just pulling her suit clear down till her butt crack was showing, and Sis was putting lotion on. Then Sis lay down, Patty got up and jerked Sis' suit down the same way. I heard them giggle as Patty slathered Sis up good, giving her butt a little slap when they were finished. I swear, those two are like twins. Whatever Patty does, Sis does. If Patty was to renounce the Lord, get a tattoo and become a stripper (my number one fantasy) Sis would do the same.

It was only a ten minute walk back to the lake store. I sauntered in, and suddenly, I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder.


"Dude!" the guy said. I turned, and it was my cousin Pete.

"What's up bro?" He shook my hand like he'd been gone ten years, when it had only been a couple of months. Pete was always like that, grabbing his friends, hugging them, dragging them around.

"Hanging out, you know...." I wasn't sure if I should tell him about Sis and Patty. I certainly didn't need him around to ruin this perfect day.

"Where are the gals?" he asked. "I saw you drive in."

"Shoot" I muttered under my breath. "Down at the cove."

"The cove!" Pete slapped my back again, almost knocking the wind out of me. "Yeah, dude," he said. "I've done some heavy duty shaggin' done at the cove." Then he took me by the shoulders and gave me a big hug. "Good to see you, man. Hey, look who I found down at the feed store."

Out from Pete's large shadow emerged Slim. Long lanky Slim. Slim with the nice tan and the bushy blonde hair. Slim, the one and only local who had ever made a dent in my sister's armor. Sis liked Slim. A lot. But then he left for the North Dakota oil fields and never wrote her any letters or called, and Sis got discouraged. Then Patty reminded her about how many girlfriends he had scattered all over the county, and she gave up on him completely. I just hoped seeing him today wouldn't change her mind. Ever since Lookout Rock, I felt very protective of Sis. I'd seen her vulnerable side and I certainly didn't trust Slim to have her best interests at heart.

After the usual horseplay, Pete announced that we were all headed back to the cove to pop a few beers with the ladies. I grabbed some sodas, but I didn't get anything else. I had lost my appetite. My prefect day with Sis and Patty was now ruined. Now it was going to be all about Pete and Slim, and I was going to be the odd man out.

The whole way back to the cove, I had to listen to Pete tell us how many rounds of ammo he could squeeze off in 60 seconds, and how many miles he could run in twenty minutes. He sounded like such a big shot, but I knew anyone could get through basic training if they tried hard enough. All you have to do is be healthy.

We reached the ridge above the cove, and Pete stuck his hand out like an indian scout leading the way in an old western movie. "Holy shit!" he whispered. "Check it out!"

We peeked through the bushes, and there below us, the girls were sitting up slathering lotion on their arms and legs. Patty was just finishing up her thighs, and now she was putting a dab in each tit. Then Sis did the same (didn't I tell you she does everything Patty does?), except it only took her a minute to do her little pear-sized tits, while Patty was still working on just the left one.

We stood there in silence, watching. I could hear our breathing. I could hear the tiny waves lapping at the shore. It was spooky. Then the girls lay back on the blanket, and we realized they had their suits shoved clear down till their woman-hair was showing.

"Oh fuck!" Pete sighed. "This is too good." He motioned for us to follow him down the path, and I kept thinking I should warn the girls somehow, like with a loud cough, or a branch breaking, but I didn't. Pete was not the type of guy you would want to get on the wrong side of. He played center on his high school football team, for crying out loud. We reached the beach, and tiptoed up behind a clump of bushes. After staring for what seemed like hours, Pete gave us a wink, and stepped forward.

"Hey ladies" he said, in his radio announcer voice. The both squealed in unison, Sis curling up in the fetal position, Patty flipping over on her tummy, trying to pull the suit back up onto her springy butt.

"Don't panic," Pete said, "It's just me."

Patty stopped struggling with her swimsuit and looked up. "Pete?" she exclaimed, like it was Christmas and he was Santa Claus. There was a moment of recognition, and then she sat up, forgetting all about her swimsuit, and her woman-hair showing, and her naked bosoms glistening in the sun. "I thought you were at..."

"I'm on leave," he said proudly, standing there staring at Patty and her oiled-up chest. Patty looked down at her body, half-heartedly trying to hide her melon-bosoms.

"We were just sunning ourselves," she said, as she started tugging at her suit.

"Don't get dressed on our account," Pete said, winking at me and Slim.

Patty batted her eyes at him, inching her suit up her shapely body. Patty may have liked Pete, but she certainly didn't want to become known as a woman of low moral caliber, especially considering her position in the church. With her suit finally in place, she got up to give Pete a hug.