Standing Strong Forever

*****

Once we were both ready for bed, I turned out the light in the kitchenette and joined Misty in the bedroom. She was already pulling back the thin sheet on the bed nearest the walk-in closet, and I paused for a moment.

She looked up at my curiously. "What is it?"

I glanced from the bed nearest the closet to the bed nearest me, and then to my sister. "Should I sleep with you, or should I sleep alone?"

"Perhaps you should sleep with me," she smiled, and then she suddenly became very serious. "It's just far too dangerous for someone like me to be sleeping alone in the middle of the wilderness!" We both laughed at that.

In short, Misty had made the decision for me. I moved to stand next to her and wrapped an arm about her waist. She turned and leaned against me, resting her head against my shoulder and placing a hand on my chest, directly over my heart.

"Sweet Misty," I whispered, enveloping her in my arms.

Before we made it into the bed, however, I taught Misty something new: what it felt like to be undressed by someone else. All I did was slowly unbutton the yellow print pajama shirt, softly kissing her flesh as it was exposed to me, and slide the thin top down her arms, allowing it to settle on the floor, but from the expression of wonder in her eyes, it was enough.

I purposely waited, however, until we were in bed together with the cabinette plunged into near-total darkness. Both of us were topless beneath the thin sheet, and the skin-on-skin contact was wonderful as we cuddled closely, the silent intimacy further strengthening our already-close bond.

"How have I been so far, Professor?" Misty's voice broke the silence, surprising me a bit.

"What do you mean?" I asked, truly needing the clarification.

"Do you think I've been learning appropriately so far?"

I smiled in the darkness, giving her a gentle squeeze, enjoying how her exposed breasts were further pressed against my bare chest. My response was simple yet unmistakable: I kissed her, softly, gently, lovingly, and I did not stop for quite some time.

*****

Monday morning was the first Monday morning which I had eagerly anticipated in a long, long time. The reason for the anticipation was sleeping beside me.

During the night, my sister had pushed down the sheet, so as I sat up in bed, I looked down upon her fondly and also enjoyed the view of her breasts slowly rising and falling with her regular sleepy breathing. She had undone the ponytail for sleeping purposes, and her long hair provided a wonderful frame for her face.

I repositioned myself, placing an ear directly over Misty's heart. The regular, rhythmic beating was a wonderful, soothing sound. The feel of her breasts against my head made the moment even better. Feeling her hands instinctively cradling my head to her chest while she continued to sleep made the moment truly special.

I am almost absolutely certain that I drifted back into slumber again while my head was resting upon my little sister's chest. It seemed, however, that I merely blinked, and suddenly the bedroom of the cabinette was brighter, and Misty's hands were gently toying with my hair.

Without thinking, I turned my face, kissing her between her breasts, directly over her heart. She made a low, non-descript sound which I felt through my lips, a sound which was evidence that she enjoyed awakening in such an odd way with such an unusual partner.

My kisses became licks, and my mouth slowly moved its attention to the right. Like an expert mountain climber or an avid hiker, I took my time ascending to the peak, savoring the journey itself just as much as I would eventually savor the reaching of the summit. I meandered north and south, I occasionally retreated a bit, and I at one point just suddenly restarted the journey for no apparent reason. Her reactions were mixed, at times giggling softly from the teasing, and at times making little sounds of sadness or frustration because I was purposely avoiding the small fleshy mound adorning her breast.

When at last I did reach my ultimate goal, when at last I did finally close my lips around my sister's erect nipple and begin to suckle her, the intensity of her gasp was almost surprising. Her hands tightened their grip on my head, and her back arched significantly in a sign that I should engulf more of her with my mouth. I did not do that, but I did trap her nipple between my teeth, tug my head back just a little bit, just enough to truly gain her attention and make her keenly aware of her nipple and its sensitivity, and begin to gently lave it with my tongue.

That was how I discovered that my sister's nipples were more sensitive than average – at least, more sensitive than the nipples of the women I had dated or had had sex with in college. It was somewhat like a game: I would tug her nipple a little more and carefully tighten the grip of my teeth and brush the nipple a bit more firmly with my tongue, and she would shudder more intensely or scratch at my scalp with stronger encouragement or writhe beneath me with greater passion.

When I finally shifted my attention to her right breast, I did so just as gradually as I had done previously. There was a significant amount of advancing and retreating, yet even though I am fairly certain that Misty had been expecting this tactic – or perhaps it was because she had been expecting this tactic – she did something I do not recall having heard from her since she had left elementary school:

Misty begged.

She was begging softly for me to suck her nipple. She was pleading with a slightly whiney voice which reminded me of the little girl who once had really, really wanted a particular colorful balloon at the state fair without waiting in line for her father to buy it for her.

Not only was she begging: She was also trying to guide my head so that my mouth would finally close around the rigid adornment. I was not certain, but she seemed to enjoy the lengthy teasing on some level; she was not being too insistent with her voice or with her hands, and while she groaned softly in frustration when I retreated from the peak of her right breast, I just had a general sense that the denial of that one particular pleasure felt somehow "right" to her.

At last, I gave her what she wanted. Opening my mouth as wide as possible, I practically inhaled both her nipple and as much of her breast as I could manage. I sucked fiercely, my tongue showing her no mercy.

No longer was she so passive and carnally pliant. No longer was she quiet. She was definitely not loud – I doubt that anyone passing by the cabinette would have heard her, even with the front windows open – but her sounds were unmistakably those of a woman whose right nipple was being treated to an exquisite pleasure which was causing signals to be directed straight to her clitoris and from there out to the rest of her body.

Suddenly remembering how she had reacted the previous day when I had bitten her near her neck, I immediately released the nipple. With a quick redirection, I bit the lower part of her breast, again showing her no mercy.

Misty's cry of pain was quite a delight. I had never considered myself a sadist, but there was something special in that sweet, sweet sound which touched a dark and hidden area deep inside me. Perhaps it was the cry of an interest – perhaps even a fantasy – momentarily seeming to come true, even without the fangs piercing her feminine flesh. Perhaps it was that she discovered the odd pleasure of masochism, something which I could never even hope to understand myself. Perhaps in that moment, because of the lengthy teasing followed by the intense sucking and licking, the pain had transcended pain itself to simply become yet another sensation to which her body and her voice could not immediately relate. In any case, I maintained the painful grip of my teeth on her lower breast, quite aware of how she was shuddering as the pain radiated outward from her chest.

When I finally released her breast and retracted my head, my little sister was breathing hard. She was topless on the bed and bore a significant bite mark. Her eyes were closed, her face contorted somewhat as her mind attempted to process what had just taken place, what she had just experienced and endured.

That was when I finally allowed myself to turn my attention away from her and assess myself for a moment. I had certainly become aroused, but, even though it had been quite some time since I had last made love to anyone, I did not have an urgent need to burrow into her body, probably because Misty had provided me with a wonderful, powerful release some twelve hours or so earlier.

"That ends the lesson for now," I quipped as I stood beside the bed. "Class dismissed."

I was amazed at just how quickly Misty reached for the pillow beside her and, from her prone position on the bed, threw it at me, barely giving me the time to react so I could catch the pillow. But even though the pain in her breast was still evident on her face, my sister was smiling a little, being brave.

We had not even been at the campground for twenty-four hours, and Misty had already been the recipient of a painful bite and of a copious facial. I had to wonder if she had envisioned such a start to the week far away from home.

*****

Since I had not expected that we would have a coffeemaker available to us, I had not brought coffee, nor had I thought to stop by the Trading Post to buy some after we had checked in the previous day, so for the first morning in a long, long time, I did not have any coffee. Misty had begun drinking coffee in early May, so she was not nearly as addicted to the morning caffeine, which may have been a good thing. Nonetheless, I did not need any coffee that morning. Misty was my caffeine, and she had certainly helped me to awaken quite nicely before breakfast.

Still, I purposely planned to drop by the Trading Post sometime in the morning and buy some coffee. I knew that if I went long enough without coffee, I would go into withdrawals, which would result in an extreme headache which would take a long time to dissipate even while I inhaled an entire pot of coffee.

We did at least have Tang. While definitely not nearly as addicting as coffee, it was a nice reminder to us both of our younger years, of summer breakfasts and lunches consumed on the back porch of the house with the sun beaming brightly down upon us. In fact, once we were both properly dressed, we had breakfast on the front porch of the cabinette, a breakfast which included Tang and which brought back plenty of memories for us both even as we marveled in the memories we were in the process of making.

*****

My little sister and I spent the morning exploring the campground. We meandered through the vacant cabinette area to the nearest tent camping field, where there was a small group of Boy Scouts cleaning up from breakfast and a few other groups scattered at a respectable distance from each other. The center of the tent camping field sported two volleyball courts, which would certainly receive plenty of usage in the evenings, and I made a mental note of it – I was not exactly a stellar volleyball player, but I could hold my own and enjoyed playing whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Oddly, there was a lone Pepsi machine at the fork in the road. I could imagine its glow being a beacon of sorts at night, acting somewhat like a lighthouse for those driving or walking along the tree-lined dirt road.

On the other side of the road was the RV area. It looked like several RV campers were about to leave the campground, but generally speaking, the RV area was mostly full, which was somewhat of a surprise to me. I had never been in an RV, but from what I knew of them, I figured that for those who lived in hotter or more humid climates, spending the summer at the campground in an RV was a nice way to get away from the more oppressive weather and still live in relative comfort with somewhat low expense.

The RV area was a lengthy and narrow section, bounded by the dirt road on one long side and the river on its other side. Misty and I made our way to the river and simply stood there for a long time, enjoying the sight and the smell and especially the sound of the flowing water. When we finally moved again, we remained close to the water's edge, finding a small inlet with a school of small fish neither of us could identify. Not surprisingly, we saw a few deer on the opposite bank cautiously drinking from the river while keeping their wary eyes upon us.

At the southern end of the RV area was the canoe landing. So early in the morning, no one was there yet to receive the canoes as campers returned to the campground, but I knew from our discussion with the check-in staff that this would be where the Wednesday canoeing trip would end for us.

From there, Misty and I strolled past the shower house, provided for those in the camping and RV fields, and given its distance from the cabinette, I was quite thankful that we had access to our own shower facility, no matter how small it was within the tiny building which was sheltering us for the week.

A short distance from the shower house was the Trading Post. It reminded me of the Trading Posts at the Boy Scout camps I had visited over the years, except that this one was noticeably larger and offered a greater selection. There were several brands of instant coffee available, as well as small cans of coffee pre-ground for the coffeemakers in the cabinettes. I bought some hazelnut coffee pre-ground for the coffeemaker in our cabinette, and from my sister's smile, she definitely approved of my selection.

Next to the Trading Post was the Game Room. There were several dart boards on one wall, along with a pool table, Ms. Pac-Man and Pole Position II arcade games, and even a jukebox featuring music mostly from the late 1990s. A doorway without a door separated the Game Room proper from the Exercise Room, with various pieces of exercise equipment, several mats along the windows overlooking the pond, and a small television suspended from the ceiling and showing a rather bleak and disheartening stock market report on CNN.

We passed the small laundry facility and its vending machines as Misty and I meandered toward the pond. There were a few young kids playing in the dirt while their parents relaxed and tanned in lounge chairs they had apparently brought with them. No one was in the water, which was a bit of a surprise, but it may have still been too early to really expect people to be swimming in the pond, especially on a Monday morning.

Our exploration of the campground continued and brought us to the small amphitheater with its low wooden benches for audience seating, and the long wooden picnic pavilion flanked by two fire pits and several barbecue grills set into small brick columns. I could easily envision this particular area being filled with people, with each fire pit and grill sending up plenty of smoke and the wonderful smells of grilled meats and fish. As we had been informed on arrival, the amphitheater/pavilion area was where everyone was to gather in the unlikely event of an emergency.

Misty and I continued southward to the far camping field and then further on toward the other cabinette area. There were a few tents pitched in the camping field, and we saw one elderly couple sitting and talking quietly on the front porch of one of the cabinettes, but it was clear that the vast majority of the campground's customers – at least for that day – were on the north side of the main set of buildings. I felt fortunate that my sister and I had the northern cabinette area to ourselves, at least for two more days.

It was mid-morning when we finally returned to our cabinette, and like any good addict who had just made a purchase, I put the coffee to good use, and soon I took two mugs of hazelnut brew – "life," as my college roommate would call it – to the front porch.

We were both silent for a while as we drank slowly. Given that there was always plenty of coffee available in the college dining halls, given that our parents always kept the house stocked with multiple flavors and strengths of coffee, given that Misty and I had both inhaled coffee Saturday morning before leaving home and again Sunday morning at the hotel's free breakfast bar before we continued our long drive, it almost seemed inexplicable that we had gone so deep into the day without coffee. Fortunately, I did not suffer from any caffeine withdrawals before finally sipping the hazelnut life, but I did secretly vow to not allow this to happen ever again.

Eventually, conversation resumed, and not surprisingly, it soon turned to Misty's education.

"Is there anything in particular that you want me to teach you about sex?" I asked with genuine curiosity.

Misty responded almost instantly. "Giving head."

"Oh?" That response surprised me, given the events from the previous day. "Um, from what happened yesterday, you seemed to do quite well. Maybe you even have a natural gift for giving head."

She smiled, a naughty twinkle illuminating her eyes. "Maybe," she conceded, "but that wasn't exactly a proper situation though, now was it?"

That caught me a bit off guard. "I don't get it," I admitted.

"You were already quite hard," she reminded me. "You were already humping me. I was already... amazingly turned on. Of course it didn't take you long to cum on me once I went down on you. But to be honest, I barely remember it – the details, I mean. I mean, what do you taste like? How does it really feel to take you into my mouth? How do you react when I'm sucking you? That's something I'd like to know, something I think I really need to know about sex so that I can make you really happy and make you really proud of my progress."

I made a quick glance around us, just to assure myself that my sister and I definitely were alone in the cabinette area, before I reached across the space in front of the small table and placed a hand on Misty's exposed thigh. "You don't need to do that for me to be proud of you," I assured her. "I'm already proud of you. You've already made some notable progress, and we haven't even made love yet."

"I know," she said, her voice suddenly softer and her eyes cast down toward the wooden porch. "I'll admit, I'm a little hesitant about having sex, even with you."

"It's okay," I said warmly, giving her thigh a gentle squeeze before retracting my hand. "When you're ready, you'll know. When you're ready, I'm fairly sure we'll both know. When the time is right, it'll simply feel 'right.' At least, that's been my experience."

Misty nodded, looking at me anew with a sweet smile once again emblazoned across her lower face. "Okay, Professor."

If I had been sitting close enough to do it, I would immediately have elbowed her arm, or ideally her side. But since the small table created too much of a gap between us, I simply rolled my eyes, but I was smiling nonetheless.

"I have an idea," I suggested. "Let's go back inside."

"Okay."

A few minutes later, after assuring all the curtains were closed as well as the door, I was stripping off my clothes. I definitely did not have a body worthy of being seen in a porn film or in a Chippendales show, and I certainly did not know any flashy stripping moves nor did I have any music available to help set the tone, but Misty still seemed quite mesmerized as she watched me undress, sitting on one bed with her hands politely folded in her lap like a model schoolgirl giving her complete and rapt attention to the instructor.

Once I was fully undressed, I shuddered slightly from the gentle breeze passing through the cabinette as I stretched out on the other bed. When I was finally in a comfortable position, I motioned for my sister to come to me, and she did, her eyes on my slowly-growing manhood.