On a Remote Hilltop

[The setting of this story is in the middle-ages. A simpler time in a near fairy tale atmosphere where the daily tasks of human subsistence and complete isolation create a world of innocence and discovery. Just for clarification, all characters are at least 18 years of age.]

Chapter 1

Long ago on a remote hilltop far from the nearest village, a small farmhouse was nestled on the South slope. Surrounded by an orchard of fruit and nut trees, terraces that nearly circled the hill, and animals and crops that graced the terraces providing work and reward for the farmers. An overgrown path led up the hill to a house and barn, but you can think of the path as leading away from the homestead as the occupants viewed it this way. The location was beauty to behold, with grand views of other hills and valleys on all sides. The climate was composed of four seasons which seemed to merrily float by one after the other, each promising their own set of chores and rewards.

Chores meant survival as they had from countless generations past. Sow, tend, harvest, process, and prepare to do it again. The seasons and the chores meant food. No matter what chore you were doing, it ultimately led to food. Either the production or consumption of food because there was a cost-benefit to things. Chores, like preparing your ground, maintaining the terraces, or milking the goats meant bread and cheese. Chores like canning, preserving, and cooking resulted in the necessary consumption of food, which in turn allowed you to produce more food. Maintenance chores like washing, making & mending clothes, and story time were considered important although no one could quite determine the cost-benefit of them, it didn't matter because family was foundational. Family was companionship, education, the beginning of the day and the end of the day. Family is there at the beginning of life and there at its passing. Chores, in all their categories, preserve the family.

Parents of twins, Toby and Tilda inherited the farm from the previous generation. As all children growing up on the farm, you are taught how to live by following your parent and doing what they do. Toby and Tilda grew up this way, learning from before the time of memories the things that needed doing each day, each week and each season.

The children, Tim and Tabitha, never got to meet Tilda in their time of memories. Tilda barely survived giving birth and suffered complications over the following two years and finally, mercifully, passed just before the children turned three.

This was a difficult time for Toby. A caring and loving man, he was emotionally torn between his grieving and the delight of his little ones. Yet, the burden of caring for three wore his body and drained him of his prior jovial nature.

Toby remained gentle despite his internal and external struggles. He taught the children all the things he knew from morning till evening. Although being nearly alone in the heavy chores, the farm's production dropped only slightly which was fine under the circumstances due to one less mouth to feed. He was stretched to the limit though the kids never heard him complain, his body was complaining with lack of sleep, hard labor, and the stress of sole responsibility.

At the base of the hill was a stream that flowed steadily through all seasons of the year. It was the backup source of water in the summer if the rain barrels went dry or leaked too much. On the near side of the stream, on a grassy and flat plain was the burial ground. The plots stretched around the bend of the hill. The family had been here many years and buried many generations. No one knew how many and it was not possible to just count grave sites since periodic flooding had removed some of the older markers.

As you walked through the grave site, the markers got older and more worn. Then some appeared missing, then more as you went until you had no idea if you were still in the grave site. If you kept going, you would eventually round the base of the hill and be back at the path that led away from the hill.

The trail that came down from the farmhouse met with another path on the opposite side of the stream. This path was known by Toby as Village Road, although that was not an official name, it was what his parents called it. Toby had only traveled it twice in his life.

The first time, Toby went with his father into the village to trade some produce for cloth and a few tools. The second time he went by himself as a young man.

Springtime had overtaken winter. The birds were back and busy building or restoring their nests, gathering leftover seed from the fields and a few ripe worms that ventured too long at the surface. The fresh green landscape was spotted with color from early flowers that dotted the hills. The trees were flexing their new leaves and squirrels raced around finding their last troves of buried treasure. Spring was a time of new life and renewal. Tim and Tabitha were delighted with the freedom of the outdoors after another long cold season stuck inside.

They were eager to run and play and found every opportunity between chores and even during them, if possible.

This spring, little rain had fallen. There was plenty of snow melt to keep the fields moist, but the rain barrels were depleted which meant refilling them from the stream. Bucket after bucket, two per person, four per trip that Tim and Tabitha made. They would rather be doing anything else because it was grueling work and with only a small visible reward per trip, it was hard to argue the benefit versus the cost while lugging two heavy pails of water up a hill.

After four complete trips and one full barrel, Tim and Tabitha collapsed at the base of the hill on the grassy bank of the stream. Exhausted, they lay there looking up at the pure blue sky, watching the birds zip about under lazy clouds. The sounds of busy wildlife and fresh air hushing through the grass felt wonderful. Their sweat dried as their breathing returned to normal and more relaxing thoughts took over their young minds.

Tabitha rolled her body sideways to sit up into a slouch leaning over her knees. She looked down at the stream and began pulling her boots off. Tim opened his eyes from a near nap and glanced her way. "Tab, what are you up to?" Tim asked, pretty much knowing the answer. "I am going to wash off" was Tabitha's prepared reply.

"You just want to go swimming. The water's still cold." Tim argued as he was beginning to kick his shoes off, too. "We can't be too long, or it will take all day to get the barrels filled." He added truthfully as his shirt went over his head.

'Tab' didn't feel the need to reply as she wiggled out of her work dress and stepped out onto the smooth stones at the edge of the stream. Tim caught his breath for a moment as he looked at the scene in front of him. The lime green grassy banks, the rickety bridge, the forested hills in the background and Tab's bare body standing in the middle of it dipping her toe into the water. Her butt, which he had seen as many times as his own midsection, seemed to take on a different quality. There was more shape to it than he remembered, in fact there was more shape in other places although logical thought was not materializing at the moment. These were more feelings than thoughts, like realizing you are thirsty and instinctively look for water.

Tim was halfway through taking his pants off. His eyes were locked on Tabitha as she began descending into the stream, when he noticed he was hard.

This was not embarrassing to him. He was not shy of his body or what it did, and neither was Tab at her own body. They grew up together, they slept in the same bed, bathed together, worked together, played together, and explored together. Burping, farting, nakedness and the natural things of body and togetherness were as normal as the stream flowing in front of him. Tab has seen him flaccid and standing tall nearly as many times as he had.

Tim kicked off his pants which stubbornly held his legs, hopped up and stepped toward the stream with renewed vigor. Tab, now belly deep, was getting used to the cold. "The surface is warmer than the bottom." She chattered as Tim reconsidered jumping in to splash her.

Tabitha had turned and gazed at Tim, forgetting about the cold for a minute. His little man was at full attention and she knew what that meant. A boy gets hard when he is stimulated by touch or thought, although sometimes it just does at it wants. She wondered what Tim was thinking and why he was hard. She did not think that she had anything to do with it, that thought did not cross her mind.

Tim entered the water the same way Tabitha had and now looked directly at her breasts. Goosebumps all over, pert and cold tight nipples stared straight at him.

He swallowed hard, not understanding all the chemical reactions going on in his mind and glands.

Tabitha sensed something odd about him. "Are you fine?" She asked, watching his little man go under the water and his nipples harden.

"Ya, just feel a little funny." Tim managed as he waded over to Tabitha.

Tabitha picked up on the feeling as Tim got closer, like some type of invisible energy began building in her as he approached. Tim came straight to her and put his arms around her, feeling her warmth as cold water flowed passed. His little man had drooped a bit when entering the water, but sprang back to attention as Tab returned the embrace.

"What's going on? Tabitha nearly stuttered. "You feel warm and I am starting to feel like something is happening in me. Your little man is pressing against my tulips." She didn't finish the sentence as no more words made sense.

Tim held her, but the feeling he didn't understand was not going away, it was simply overwhelming. He felt his little man against her tulips and it began to throb. Finally, he pulled his chest away from Tab's while still embracing at the waist. "I don't know, but I feel like I want to keep holding you. I like looking at you and my little man is, well, I don't know, but he needs a hug, I guess."

Tabitha glowed at hearing Tim liked to look at her. She didn't know why, but it made her forget about the cold water. She smiled, looking at Tim's lips, his strong chin, and down his neck to his chest muscles and a couple abs visible above surface. She took one hand off his waist and in one motion wrapped her hand around Tim's little man. "Your little man needs a hug?" She said, not with a laugh, but more in delightful curiosity at all these feelings.

As Tabitha's hand grasped Tim, he shuddered and let out an audible exhale, something similar to getting your breath knocked out of you. He reflexively backed away a few inches at the same time.

Tabitha let go immediately thinking she had somehow hurt him, but she knew that light of a touch shouldn't be painful. "I'm sorry - are you fine? I thought you said he needed a hug?" She quickly said, surprised at his reaction.

"No, I'm fine, just your touch was, wow. Um, I really liked it. Don't let go." Tim nearly begged.

Tabitha smiled and returned her grip. Tim's eyes lolled in his head as sensations ran through his body.

"Wow, you are loving this." Tabitha mused as Tim was experiencing ecstatic pleasure for the first time.

"Oh yes." Tim exhaled as Tabitha began loosening and tightening her grip watching Tim began to take deeper breaths and lose himself in the experience.

Tabitha, not knowing why or having any conscious thought as she could recall, took her other hand and placed it over her tulips letting her middle finger find the crevice. Instantly warm sensations began enveloping her as if she had sat in a hot bath.

Flushed and confused in unfamiliar natural emotion, Tabitha let go of herself and Tim and pulled him into a tight embrace. She wanted him close, attached to her, held, but more than that. Tim, released from Tabitha's penile grip, put a bear hug around Tabitha, pressing his little man onto her flower mound.

They both received the embrace with budding passion. Arms enveloping their bodies, hips pressed tight, their mouths at the base of their necks. Not a drop of water could pass between them.

Within seconds Tim was overcome with an internal surge of deep involuntary spasm. His little man throbbed against Tabitha over and over as he felt euphoric waves shudder through him. A warm liquid made a space between their tightly pressed bodies.

Tabitha felt the tremors in Tim and wanted to hold him even tighter. She felt the warm liquid and wrapped one of her legs around Tim instinctively trying to get closer.

After what seemed like waking from a dream, Tim took deep breaths and attempted to loosen his bear hug. Tabitha relented only slightly, still eager for the closeness.

"Come lay with me on the bank, I need to keep holding you." Tabitha demanded in a deep and desperate voice. Tim, willing to do any and every chore to experience that again, obliged even though he did not want to let go.

Tabitha nearly leaped out of the water pulling Tim's arm. She didn't let go as she lay down pulling Tim on top of her. This was not the first time they had lay on each other. They had spent their entire childhood as companions. Between bedtime and playtime, this was not an uncommon position, but it was certainly different now.

Tim lay flat on top, no longer able to get his arms around Tabitha, he propped himself up on his elbows placing his hands on her shoulders while looking down into her eyes only inches from his.

Tabitha, desperate for a closeness she couldn't describe, wrapped both her legs around Tim, squeezing him onto her body. Tim grunted in delight as he felt his little man press against her tulips, slipping in her warm folds and finding a path forward. This was new and beyond delightful.

Tim had seen Tabitha put her fingers inside her tulips before and she had even let him do that once, but that was playful exploration. This was desire. A natural surge and instinctual impulse. Tim slipped inside her warmth.

Tabitha let out a guttural noise that sounded like, "yes," but was more animalistic. She strengthened her leg grip, loosened, then gripped tight again repeating in frantic rhythm. Waves of ecstasy coursed through her rippling outward from her tulips and flower bud. Tim's body, held firmly against her mound by her legs, pressed her flower bud with each rhythmic squeeze.

Tim, wanting desperately to move in synch with her began pushing his hips against her legs as she loosened her grip. He could not thrust forward while she held him tight, but his body eagerly wanted to. By pushing against her legs, he created enough room to withdraw and push his hips forward.

They both groaned in pleasure as Tim's hips began taking over for Tabitha's leg squeeze. Tim's rhythm picked up speed as Tabitha made a high-pitched whine with each thrust forward, breathing in and out in pace with Tim's movement.

Tim was in pure lust. He had never felt anything like this before. Starring down at Tabitha, her small breasts brushing against his chest on each downward motion, her lips partly open, eyes glazed over, looking dreamily into his, her sounds of joyful pleasure, and the building euphoria in his loins were all beyond understanding.

Tabitha's sounds blended into one rising cry as her body tensed. Tim pushed forward even harder wanting to be deeper inside, pressing on her flower bud and driving Tabitha to cry louder. Her body convulsed as a high-pitched moan poured out of her lungs. Tim, reaching his limit, exploded into her, throb after throb until he could not hold tight against her any longer.

All their muscles gave up and they lay limp together heaving deep breaths. Minutes passed without thought or sound and their breathing eased.

Tabitha felt the breeze tussle her hair, the weight of Tim on top of her, and the grass against her back. She motioned to get a deeper breath and Tim lifted his weight. She sucked in a lungful and exhaled.

Tim did the same and looked at her.

Tim's mouth opened, but no words came out. There was too much to say and no words formed into sentences.

Tabitha looked up at him expectantly, waiting for words that would make sense of all this, but the soundless motion of his mouth said the same thing she was feeling. Some things defy description or explanation. This, whatever this was, was not planned. It was not taught to us, but it felt so powerful and so right. She smiled then leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. Another thing that wasn't planned, but felt right. She smiled again and rolled out from under him to put her clothes back on.

Tim leaned on his side and watched her, admiring her body. Her long muscled legs led up to her round, firm butt, then narrowed at the waist and widened at the chest where her apple size breasts stood pointing forward. Her broad shoulders and slender neck, her soft wavy hair was lighter at the tips and her face seemed to glow like the moon. Her lips seemed more full than he ever remembered them and her light green eyes, those intelligent, playful and mischievous eyes glanced his way.

"What are you looking at?" Tabitha said playfully.

Sentences still eluded Tim. "Beautiful." He nearly whispered.

She looked at him earnestly, held her dress to her side and stood up straight and tall facing him in all her glory. She quickly caught her pride and blushed while pulling her dress over her head.

Tim lay in a stupor. The visions of her beauty burned into his head, the indescribable sensations of their passion, and the inspiration of new knowledge into an unexplored part of life. He was eager to make sense out of it, eager to do it all again, but sad at witnessing that dress cover such a sweet vision.

"Are you getting up? We have to make at least four more tips today." Tabitha blurted, mimicking Tim from earlier and trying to act like she didn't want to pull her dress back off and do that again. Seeing and enjoying the disappointment in Tim's face, she added, "Maybe we can do that again tonight."

That made Tim sit up. "Tab, I'm still having a tough time with... Well, that was great and it's like I want to do that again rather than fill the barrels. I know we need to get our chores done, but maybe we need to add this to the chore list." Tim said trying to turn his desire into an acceptable and established routine where it would not get in the way of chores, but instead be one. It made so much sense in the instant he thought it.

"The chore list?"

It suddenly sounded like a stupid idea now that she said it.

"It's not a chore, you know, it's not like a real chore, it's so we can do it all the time and it won't get in the way of real chores." Tim was delighted that his brain was functioning again and now he had a goal to think about.

Tabitha's face reflected the drain of her previous glow.

"Tim, somehow you have taken me out of my new happy place. Maybe you should just not talk for a while." Tabitha said as she bent over to pull her boots on forcefully. "Put your clothes on. Let's go." She said mournfully.