[ Author’s Statement: I would like to assure readers that every character in this story, even briefly mentioned, is above 18 years of age.
Author’s Note: Unlike other stories I post on Literotica, this is not a short, but a full-length novel. Although highly erotic and filled with incest taboos, I spent a lot of time creating three-dimensional characters that I hoped would be more believable. If you are looking for a “quick fix”, I recommend one of my short stories. If you are interested in taking your time, read on, my friend, and enjoy it.
“The trick,” I said, rubbing the knife on the flint and steel in a rapid motion, “is to make sure you have large branches and pieces of wood around when you light the tinder. It’s a little awkward to light a fire first and then light it again.” Remember, you still need fuel to keep functioning!
When I finally got a spark to light the small bundle of dry pine needles, the small group around me laughed and made their expected sounds of joy and surprise. I bent down and blew gently on the coals to give them a slight glow, then began placing some branches and larger logs on the small flame.
” Look ,” I said, “people can start fires. Now, it’s your turn.”
I stood and watched them disperse, three couples. This is my latest Survivor School lesson. Surprisingly, my top student is one of the oldest students I have ever met, both in their sixties, but they were both warriors in the harsh heat conditions. They had a fire going in about five minutes. The other two couples were less skilled. Among them is a stupid couple in their forties, and a pair of young, stupid lovers in their twenties. (I can say “young” and “stupid” because I am in my thirties.) There was also a little argument between the young couple, which was surprising. I hope it doesn’t get worse as the stress of the hike mounts. However, they all had good credit, and they all paid a reasonable fee to hire me, their survival guide, for a seven-day hike through this particularly sparsely populated area of the Sierra Nevada.
We had to hike over 10 miles to get here. The hike was very enjoyable because everyone in my group was already in pretty good shape (this is a survival school, not a fat farm) and set out with full stomachs. But now, many hours have passed and they have had very little food and little rest. Soon they will be in full survival mode, but it is all at their expense, so morale is still a little high. It will be interesting to see how they digest the large rattlesnake I caught, killed, and skinned for dinner tonight. All of our food on this hike comes from what nature provides. By the end of the hike, each of us will have burned over 4,000 calories per day, but only consumed over 500 calories from their snake feast.
Eventually, with a little guidance from me, everyone lit a fire, and everyone was proud of themselves for having done it without using a match or a drop of lighter fluid. As I suspected, they ate the roasted snake meat with little or no nausea. The evening became even more enjoyable when I brought out a hidden jug of single malt scotch, enough for the seven of us to have a few drinks. I told them this was the last bit of alcohol they would enjoy for the next six nights.
In the early afternoon, I showed them how to build a simple shed using pine branches, sticks and pine needles as filler, and eventually the couple started settling into their simple shelter. Well, that young couple has moved on. I thought they were looking forward to having sex with each other in the woods, and I certainly can’t blame them. We are in pristine countryside: forests, lakes and mountains untouched by human industrialization. But I was wrong. I saw a girl named Karin walking back to camp alone.
I asked him, “Where is David?”
He replied, “Who cares?”
I looked at her in surprise. She was a beautiful girl, about five and a half feet tall, with short brown hair, brown eyes and nice teeth. Although Karin was a bit fat, she had a nice round ass and full, creamy breasts that I noticed right away. But she came here with her husband. It is really hard to catch a girl in such a situation.
Karin caught my eye and said, “Oh, there he is, by the lake. He’s fine.”
“Very well,” I said. The safety of these six individuals is my top priority.
“It’s just,” she whispered, “he’s so stupid sometimes !”
I nodded. They had a fight. This is not unusual when couples experience the stress of survival training. I was surprised they were arguing with each other on the first night, but their cold argumentative attitude towards each other this morning predicted it.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to sound angry.”
“Don’t worry.”
He looked me up and down. He said, “You’re very comfortable, aren’t you, Carl?”
“I think.”
Our eyes met. I’m sure there’s some connection there. Though, admittedly, I was the one to look away first. Over the past few years, I’ve spent so much time alone in the woods that I’ve almost lost the ability to flirt or seduce. My “interpersonal communication skills” are pretty crude. If something were to happen here, I’d be as quiet as a novice.
“Well,” she said at last, “I’d better go back to my little sanctuary. You said we’d move on at dawn, right?”
I managed to glance at him. “Yes.”
Karin took my arm and turned my watch so she could see the time on the illuminated dial. It was just after nine o’clock. Her fingers felt good. God, I haven’t been lying down in a long time.
He said, “Let’s take a nap.” He looked at me strangely.
“Yes.” I could only stutter out.
She left and I stared at her round ass trying to figure out if she was wearing a wild thong. So be it. Then again, what difference does it make? She will settle down with her asshole husband and I will be left alone in bed, like always, like forever…
** **
These thoughts were the last of my waking state, and in the dream state I kept imagining Karin next to me, in my own sanctuary, reaching down my shirt, down my pants… And then it turned into a waking dream, a highly erotic dream, because I knew I was aroused, totally aroused, and what I imagined was feeling the most wonderful pressure of Karin’s hand…
“Okay,” I heard a soft whisper. “That’s my tough mountain boy.”
I opened my eyes and found the dream had become reality. Under the dark, moonless, star-studded sky, I couldn’t really see – but definitely feel – Karin squirming against me. She put one leg over me as I lay on my back. Her breasts pressed against my arms, her hot breath on my neck. Her hands were busy reaching into my open shorts and grabbing my hard cock firmly. When she thought I was awake, she started pumping faster.
“Karin…”
“Shush, Carl, shush,” she whispered. “Nothing to say, baby, enjoy it.”
“But…”
“It’s okay. He went to sleep by the lake. We’re still angry at each other.”
I took it all in while feeling my scrotum contract and my penis twitch in the pure pleasure of a woman’s gentle hands touching me. If her husband was at the lake, he was hundreds of yards away and out of earshot. However, the next closest refuge to me – the old couple – was only fifteen yards away. Silence is essential.
So I kept quiet and let Karin fuck my cock. In return I managed to wrap one arm around her and started massaging her back and feeling her body as much as I could from my position. She was a bit fat, but also soft and warm – and feminine. I’m so horny now.
Eventually, Karin unhooked my shorts and panties and pulled them down to my knees. Her strokes were smooth and steady, experienced.
“You have a nice big cock, baby,” he whispered. “That would make for a very tight dress.”
My pine needle bed pricked my naked ass and made me itch, but as long as this woman was manipulating my genitals and saying things like that, I figured I could tolerate the bed of nails. I was startled when I felt her hand move away from my cock for a moment, but I quickly realized it was just to get her to take off my shorts and panties. She started to pound me. I started to shake with excitement. Here I was, expecting a simple hand job like a child, but it turned out I was about to be deceived!
I began to feel Karin’s bulge more actively as she slid her body against mine. She was still wearing her tank top, but she had taken off her bra and now her huge breasts were pressing and swelling in my hungry grip. Her nipples were rock hard. And below, I felt her belly rubbing against mine, and it was even smoother… all the hair down there was shaved! Her baby smooth pussy was now rubbing against my throbbing cock. How she had planned to shave that thing so well while hiking in the woods, she had no idea now. The important thing is that it is now smooth and rubbing against my cock. She was letting the moisture from her slit slicken over my cock as she slid up and down, panting softly as our genitals heated up from sexual friction.
“Try not to cum too early,” he whispered in my ear.
Considering how horny I am, and how long it’s been since I fucked a girl – at least a few months – I can’t guarantee how long I’ll stay horny, but we’ll find out soon, because I’m now caught up in the feeling as Karin lifted her hips slightly, reaching for my cock. She gently stroked me with her warm fingers. She began to lower herself.
patting
My heart, is it my heart? Did you hit it that hard? Who cares, I don’t care. I was ready to have my pussy filled with my own. A wet, willing, equally hungry pussy. I now grabbed her bare hips and tried to press her down on top of me. But as Karin lowered herself so that her pussy lips started to part a little on the tip of my cock, she stopped.
Pat say it louder. Louder, louder, louder…
We all cocked our heads. What exactly is that ? We can feel it on the ground, in the air. It’s not a stampede, there are no elk, horses or cattle around these areas. It’s not like anybody is running away; it’s too massive, too widespread.
God, the head of my cock is almost inside this girl now , she’s so thick, soft, warm, wet. I wish she could bring her strong butt down on me—
The thump turned into a chop, a sharp, very distinctive chop.
“Oh, no,” I said.
“What is that?” he asked.
Our answer came in the form of a gust of wind, sound and light. But not from some natural phenomenon. It was a helicopter, and as it flew over the nearby mountains and the small valley where we were camping, it suddenly appeared on the scene with a terrible rumble and a chopping sound. Its searchlights were cutting through the darkness, lightning bolts were flashing and of course the sound of the helicopter blades was ripping the quiet night. As it got closer, the searchlight’s back-and-forth circle became more precise, until it found our camp, until it found me.
“Oh shit!” Karin gasped.
She climbed off of me and grabbed my shorts excitedly. I lay there for a while, my aching cock exposed to the world and the spotlight. But soon I stood up, covering myself. Karin had fled back to her shelter. I’m not sure if anyone in the camp saw her with me, but I doubt the old couple did.
In a clearing about fifty yards away, the helicopter landed and someone jumped out and immediately ran in my direction. Before he spoke, I knew it was my business partner and survivalist, Kevin.
“Hi, Carl,” he yelled happily over the sound of the helicopter. He looked toward the camp, then back at me, smiling. “Who is that?”
“Nobody,” I complained. “What the hell—”
“Sorry, man,” Kevin yelled. “You received an emergency call, but I couldn’t reach you through SP.”
I stared at him. In case of a serious emergency – broken leg, foodborne illness, bear attack, etc. – I keep a satellite phone in my backpack. But there’s no reason to open it. Kevin would have found me via the emergency GPS chip in my backpack.
I yelled, “What’s so important that I can’t wait a few days?”
“Your sister,” Kevin replied. “She’s been trying to contact you urgently since you joined the group.”
I furrowed my brows. My sister is doing research half a world away in New Guinea. What could possibly be so urgent that she would leave the jungle to find me in an equally remote location?
Kevin put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll take over here. Joe will take you back.” He pointed quickly with the thumb of his free hand toward the waiting helicopter.
I looked around. Everyone in the camp was looking, including Karin and David. I exchanged brief glances with Karin in the dim light. She looked disappointed. I know I am, but I’m definitely curious about my sister.
Kevin said, “Don’t worry, I’ll explain the situation and take care of them.” I nodded, shrugged, apologized to my team and left my gear with Kevin and started running towards the helicopter.
As I walked away, I could only hear Kevin’s words coming up behind me, “Do you still have whiskey?”
** **
One of the amazing facts about living in the 21st century is that it is very realistic and possible to get from any random point on Earth to any other point in about 24 hours. Sure, a lot of money can be spent between last minute commercial flights and charter flights, but when I stepped out of the door of my small twin turboprop plane on the gravel tarmac outside of Papua, New Guinea, it had been just over 23 hours. Slowly as I walked out of the Northern California campground I was proving the validity of this theory. Ironically, I arrived early! As I walked toward the weather-beaten one-story building located at one end of the runway that was supposed to be the terminal, I saw no sign of my sister.
In this building, I felt the heat and humidity that hit me as soon as I stepped off the plane, but there was no relief. The temperature felt about 90 degrees and the humidity easily reached 99%. It was very sticky after experiencing the more comfortable dry heat in the Sierra Nevada.
“I’m sorry to do this to you, but I’m desperate,” she said last night – well, the day before. Her soft voice sounded strained over the sound of the satellite phone we were using.
Miss Tara Stadden, soon to be PhD in anthropology, is my 29-year-old sister. My only sibling. An adventurer like me, she found a graduate program that would keep her in the field as long as possible, and her latest project would keep her in New Guinea for the better part of a year. She only has six months left so far. All I knew about her project was that it required living with a specific group of locals and studying various aspects of their lives. I thought my tall, fair, blonde, blue-eyed sister would have been seen as a shorter, much darker member of some backward tribe in the jungle.
At the “terminal” I put my duffel bag on the floor and stretched out. After sitting for most of the past 23 hours, I was excited to stretch out six feet and learn how to move my legs again. There were only a few people here: an old Asian man was sleeping in a chair with his bag between his knees, and a middle-aged woman with a gray walnut-shaped face was standing at the counter of the snack bar. I frowned. I only had US dollars on me and doubted a place like that would accept credit cards. Still, I was hungry, having only eaten peanuts (and some snakes) the previous day. She would definitely accept US dollars, although I would probably have to pay five times the normal asking price as the “exchange” rate. The next tip is how to talk to her, because in addition to English, I am fluent in Spanish, but that’s it.
“Calvin!”
I turned around, ignoring the fact that I hate it when people use my full name, and was happy to see my sister already running towards me from the door.
“Hey, kid!” I said, hugging him. At five point nine, he’s almost the same height as me. Still, I used my joy at seeing him as an excuse to lift his body up against mine and give him a little shake. We kissed on the cheeks and hugged for a long time, leaning back in our chairs and looking at each other, and then hugged some more. The woman at the counter smiled. The old man didn’t move.
Eventually we broke apart and I got a good look at her. She was still the same tall, skinny girl I remember, wearing khaki shorts and a white tank top. As soon as I saw her, she looked me up and down and said, “You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Carl. You saved me!”
I think she made it more dramatic than it really was. Apparently, the project Tara was working on required two researchers. Tara explains that her graduate school classmate and friend John’s situation worsened when a strange spider bite on his thigh became infected and he had to go home to recover a few days ago. Tara then made it clear over the phone that if she didn’t find a new research partner within a week, she would have to close the program and go home. There were no other students in her class she could contact, and that’s when she remembered me.
“But I’m not a scientist,” I said over the static on the phone.
“You’ll make it somehow,” he replied. “You’re an expert in survival techniques, Carl. You’re used to extreme conditions, and I need someone who isn’t afraid of not having running water and can handle the mess. Also, from all your travels around the world, after you’ve done all the necessary shooting, you can adapt immediately to the wilderness, while others need to prepare for weeks or months and you may not be an anthropologist, but you have a clear mind and can still shoot well—”
“I was never a SEAL,” I said quickly, my ears turning red. “I was removed during Hell Week, remember?”
“That was close, Carl. You hurt your knee on the last day!”
“Hmmm…” There was no point in arguing not to let me try again, because it turned out my ACL reconstruction surgery was somewhat complicated. Instead, I served six years in the regular Navy and was honorably discharged as a lieutenant. I wanted to be a Navy SEAL and do special operations, not pilot ships. If I couldn’t do the first, I’d never be satisfied with the second.
Anyway, now I’m in one of the last remote places on Earth with my sister, and she needs my help. It cost me nothing more than canceling my future Survivor School trip and flying home. Tara’s funding covered every aspect of the series of extremely expensive connecting flights to get me here so quickly.
She pulled back and looked at me. “You look tired, Carl, but you seem fine.”
“You too, sis.” I looked at the snack bar, and then back at her.
She smiled. “There is food in the jeep, let’s go.”
A few hours later we were still walking quickly down a narrow dirt road as the jungle began to thicken around us. My lunch consisted of a can of tuna and crackers. It’s the tastiest, most Western meal Tara has had at camp. She explained that she had long ago adopted the native eating habits of the people she had studied, but she thought I would want to adapt to this unique diet gradually. I still didn’t understand what an “indigenous diet” was.
