Incest My Sister in Waterfall rewritten

[neerathemall]

3

We finished lunch, and half an hour after sitting down we stood up and resumed our hike. The air grew thinner and the trees sparser as we followed the trail threading its way higher into the mountains. I was in good shape, but I felt myself huffing and puffing more as we climbed higher.

Most of the time, I let Sara lead the way. I tried to tell myself I was being chivalrous, but the truth was I liked watching her. Her figure was lithe and sexy, with long, sculpted legs, a thin waist, and a cute pert butt encased in form-fitting shorts that ended no more than an inch below her cheeks. I almost stumbled a few times because her butt distracted me from paying attention to the rough, rocky trail. I felt guilty about it, but I couldn't stop myself. I tried to be discreet, so she wouldn't catch me eying her figure.

At last, we came to the pass -- a cleft in a high, serrated mountain ridge that marked the divide between two watersheds. Behind us lay a broad valley covered in a green blanket of pines and firs. Ahead of us spread an expansive alpine basin framed by still more mountain ranges, trailing into the distance. The basin was mostly rocky and barren, but here and there it was dotted with small stands of trees. Our destination -- Baskin Lake -- lay partly revealed, partly hidden behind a ridge in a low area of the basin to our left.

It was every bit as breathtaking a view as I remembered it. And the best part? Not a soul was in sight of us. The crowds thinned out after Labor Day, and we were in luck. We had the whole wilderness to ourselves.

Sara let out a high-pitched yell, and it echoed down the mountain, fading at last until we heard nothing but the whisper of a slight breeze over the rocks and the faint call of an unseen bird nearby.

"It's gorgeous, isn't it?" Sara asked, staring ahead.

"I could never get tired of that view," I replied, but I was looking at Sara's butt when I said it. I caught myself and glanced up to her face before she turned around and looked at me. Then we both turned forward.

"About a mile left, I think," I said. "If we get going, we can swim in the lake before dinner time."

"Let's go," Sara said, and we went.

It was downhill all the way to the lake, so we made faster time, although the steep trail was tough on the legs. The accumulated weight of my body and my pack pounded my knees on every step down the mountain path.

The twisty trail ducked through a thick stand of firs. The scent of their pitch hit my nostrils. Sara continued walking ahead of me, setting a brisk pace. I sensed her eagerness to get to our destination.

A few more twists and turns on the trail later, the trees parted and there it was: Baskin Lake, sparkling like a sapphire in the stark mountain setting. I'd forgotten just how beautiful it was. The rock cliffs that framed it loomed improbably high and steep above us. Patches of snow fields clung here and there to the steep shoulders of the surrounding peaks. Off to the right, a waterfall borne of snowmelt cascaded a hundred feet over a vertical pitch of rock. Stunted, twisted trees held on to the forbidding mountain slopes where they could.

We scouted for a camp site. It didn't take us long to find an ideal one -- a flat space, set about by rocks and trees, sloping gently down to the lake's edge perhaps a hundred feet away. Sara and I flung our packs to the ground, relieved to be free of their weight. Sara skipped forward, toward the lake, thirty feet or so. She flung her arms wide, toward the lake shining blue under the sun, and then turned back, toward me, arms still high above her.

"It's amazing!" she said. Her tight top rose, exposing her flat tummy.

It WAS amazing: breathtaking, majestic, too much to capture in words or in a photograph -- and my sexy sister standing in the middle of it all was like the cherry on top of the sundae. I felt bad thinking that as soon as I thought it.

I've got to get a grip, I told myself.

"We've got this whole lake -- this whole wilderness -- to ourselves, Christopher," she said, waving her hand over the scene. "Nobody's here. I can't believe it."

Sara was right. It felt strange being so isolated. In years past, coming to the lake before Labor Day with my parents, we'd encountered other hikers on the trail and shared the lake with other camping groups. But not this year. We had seen no one on the trail for the past several hours, and it was clear we were the only ones at the lake.

I looked up, to the sky, to the position of the sun. It was only mid-afternoon, but sunset would come early because of the granite mountain wall that blocked the horizon to the west. Once the sun dipped behind the ridge, the temperature would drop fast.

"Let's go for a swim!" Sara said.

"I think we should set up camp first."

"Pooh," she said. "I want to swim. We have plenty of time to set up camp."

"Well, you go ahead. I'm going to get the tent and stove set up, at least. I'll join you in a minute."

I unloaded my pack, focusing on the things I would need to set up our campsite: tent, groundsheet, stove, expanding water jugs.

While my hands kept busy assembling the tent, my eyes flickered over the figure of my sister walking away from our site with something blue in her hand, until she ducked behind a clump of bushes. The shrubbery was high enough and thick enough to obscure her body up to her shoulders. She hid from me to change into her swimsuit. Her arms swept off her white t-shirt and set it on top of the bush. Then I saw her head disappear, and I realized my sister had shucked off her shorts and now was completely naked behind the bush only thirty feet away. I felt my cock stiffen. I didn't want it to, and I felt guilty when it did, but it did, anyway. The thought of Sara being completely naked so close by, with only scraggly bushes obscuring her body from me -- it was intoxicating. My head swam. I tried to focus on the tent, but I couldn't.