Native Sister

I suddenly realized why Tara's torso seemed to be longer than expected: she was perfectly shaved in the pelvic region, and where one would have expected a patch of pubic hair, there was only more golden skin. Just above her pussy was the belt of beads, but I very quickly skipped over that damned thing and went back to her pelvis. That is, what was between the pelvis: nothing but a naked little vagina with pretty pink labia right at her entrance.

At this point I didn't know if I was drooling or swaying or both. But somehow I kept upright, and I continued to take Tara's incredible body in right down to her toes. Her legs, like the rest of her, were long and amazingly toned. Like her pussy, her deeply-tanned legs were obviously smooth. I wondered, of all things, just how the hell a woman could find time to shave her legs—and her vagina—in the middle of the jungle.

I must have gone on staring for just a bit too long, for now Tara was beginning to fidget, leaning on one leg, then the other, clasping her hands in front of her, partially covering her pussy.

"Cal?"

The voice seemed to come from far away, a strange soft voice calling my name two or three times. After a moment I realized the voice was coming from directly ahead of me, directly from Tara. It was just that her tone seemed far away, and that was due to the sudden streak of self-conscious that must've been flooding through her. I suddenly felt bad and swallowed hard two or three times, regaining my composure.

Trying to keep my own voice from sounding distant and self-conscious, I finally looked down and said, "I'm sorry, Tara. It was just a little more, well, shocking than I'd prepared for."

"It's okay, Cal. I knew it would take some getting used to, which is why we're doing this now, here, alone." She paused. "Are you going to be okay with this?"

I glanced up at my sister again, and the wave of wonder that was this naked woman's utterly perfect body washed over me again. I felt my blood begin to heat up, my throat constricting, but the initial shock was over. It was definitely going to be weird for a while, very weird, but as long as I kept reminding myself that this was for the sake of Tara's project, for the sake of science, I would somehow get through it.

I took a deep breath, set no more than a typical crooked grin on my face and said, "I'm cool. Let's do this."

Tara smiled broadly, tears welling in her eyes, obviously relieved. She even made as if to step forward and hug me, but that would've been pushing it a bit too far at this point. We just grinned stupidly at each other.

"So how far to the village now?" I asked.

"Another mile or so, not far."

"Great." Trying to stay upbeat and proactive, I started marching off in the direction toward which she had been taking me all along. But after ten or fifteen paces I paused: Tara wasn't following. I turned and looked at her naked form, standing there back by the tree, near the case. "What's up?" I asked.

"Cal...we're not exactly, um, done here."

Frowning at her odd tone, I walked back up to her, and now I was standing just a pace or two from my naked sister. "What more do we have to do?" I asked.

She looked down. "Cal, people don't...well, people don't wear clothes in this village."

"Yeah, I know, that's why you're standing there naked and—" I stopped suddenly, realizing. "Oh shit."

Tara finally looked up at me.

"You mean you also want me to—"

She nodded ever so gently, her big brown eyes pleading again.

I grimaced. "My God, woman, you're really serious?" I could hem and haw about it all I wanted, sputtering phrases like "you must be joking" or "you've got to be kidding me," but there was no getting around the fact that my sister was 100% serious. It actually got my blood going again, but not from the animalistic reaction to seeing a naked woman this time and more from the fact that here was yet another massive detail my sister had omitted from her pleas to draw me out here in the first place.

"Goddammit, Tara," I bellowed. I think I may have even stomped a foot. It was just so frustrating. She remained silent. I huffed around for a minute, once again cycling through the logic of the situation. This time it didn't take long to come to pretty much the same conclusion.

Had Tara told me all of these details on the sat phone while I was still in California, I might not have agreed. It would've been, "Cal, I need you to come to this little isolated village in the jungle with me, halfway around the world, and oh by the way we will both have to be completely naked around each other. Is that okay?"

No, it would not be okay, I probably would've replied. But that was 10,000 miles ago. That was when I could have easily said no to a voice crackling over the weak signal bouncing off satellites in orbit. Now I was here, standing before my sister who was as nude as the day she was born, fully shaved, fully sensual. And I, her blood-related sibling, was going to have to get the same way.

"Okay," I said at last, "here's the deal. I'm going to do this. I'm going to strip down and just try to pretend this is some kind of hazing trick from Basic, but from here on out, there had better not be any more fucking surprises, you got it?"

I'd really laid it on thick by the time I'd gotten to "fucking surprises," and the words seemed to hit Tara like a slap. She actually winced. And I suddenly felt like shit because I was having a stupid temper tantrum, obviously a defensive mechanism against the incredible level of self-consciousness pressing on my psyche.

There was nothing to do now but strip, so that's what I started doing. I walked over and dropped my bag on the case, then started unbuttoning my shirt, my back turned to Tara. Under normal circumstances, I would have nothing to be ashamed of. When not out on a hike with a group of clients, I exercised regularly and aggressively. I maintained a strict diet and was in extremely good shape. I was by no means one of those freakishly body-building 'roid-ragers you might see at a 24-Hour Fitness, but I knew I could hold my own against someone like Daniel Craig or Jeffery Donovan.

But I was about to show all that to my sister!

Trying not to turn this into some kind of bazaar strip tease, I just shucked my clothes as quickly and as unceremoniously as possible. In just a couple of moments, I was now as naked as my sister, my back still to her. I could only assume that she was now staring at my naked butt. Fortunately, the skin tone of my ass more or less matched the rest of my tanned body. On days off from escorting hikers there was a great little secluded lake I loved to jog to, then skinny dip in, swimming the equivalent of a mile or two under the golden sun....

I realized I was stalling, reluctant to turn around and face—well, show—the truth. I knew that once I let my sister see my penis, my testicles, the final line would be crossed. With a shrug and a bit of held breath, I turned around slowly. And she was waiting, watching.

So there we were, brother and sister, fully naked and facing each other, just a few paces apart. Because of the stress of the situation, the complete awkwardness actually, it wasn't some raging erection I'd turned toward my sister. I was completely flaccid, and I was thankful for that. An awkward random erection at this moment might have freaked both of us out. Having said that, in its flaccid state my cock wasn't exactly a shriveled up little pecker. I have a good deal of meat down there. And Tara seemed to notice.

"Oh my," she said, bringing a hand up to her mouth. "Cal, you're...in very good shape."

"Thank you," I said, blushing. "So are you."

Another few minutes went past, and as our two heart rates slowly but surely worked back down to something below 100 beats per minute, we allowed each other to get some good looks. It had to be this way, otherwise we'd act totally weird around each other in the village, and that would probably hamper Tara's ability to do her job with the natives. Finally, Tara got back in charge.

"We'd better get going."

After sorting things out with the case and my bag, we were once again on the march. At first, out of what had been the previous routine, I trailed slightly behind Tara, letting her lead the way. We both realized at around the same moment, however, that whenever I looked up from where I was walking I was looking directly at my sister's beautiful and perfectly shaped ass. So we sort of fell into a side-by-side formation, with Tara indicating now and then where we needed to head. Trying to be modest, I avoided looking at anything in Tara's direction to my left, but out of the corner of my eye I could see her large breasts swaying, her long slim thighs flexing. I'm sure her equivalent field of vision afforded her glimpses of my penis flopping back and forth as I walked, unconstrained by any underwear.

Along the way I made a real effort to take in my surroundings and avoid looking at—or even thinking about—my naked sister. The jungle was thick, steamy and mesmerizing in its perfect blend of teaming life, vivid colors and faintly pungent decay. Birds called out, monkeys screamed in the distance, and a billion insects clicked and chirped and flapped from all directions. About a year ago I joined an adventure group on a six-week trek through the Amazon, so the environment around me was not a shock. Nevertheless it was a daunting thought that here I was, in the year 2014 AD, in a world filled with HDTVs, iPods, and stem cell cloning, yet I might as well have transported back in time to 2014 BC: it would have looked exactly like this.

During the rest of the hike Tara explained further details about her time with the Kasabai and how they had taken her in where other Westerners had been flatly denied. She told me that one incredible thing I would immediately notice when we got to the village was how remarkably clean everyone was. Unlike the other tribes, such as the nearby Kombai where constantly being covered in dirt was a normal thing, the female elders of the Kasabai believed in keeping the body and soul as literally clean as possible.

"They have their own version of that old saying, 'cleanliness is next to godliness,'" Tara said as we walked along. "They bathe regularly. Sometimes two or even three times per day! They always pick village locations very close to streams or rivers with fast-moving water, so it's easy for them to quickly jump in, rinse off, then jump back out and back to their routines."

"That's good to know I guess," I said. Already drenched in my own sticky sweat, I relished the thought of being able to regularly jump into a nice cool stream. Then I started imagining a bunch of naked people—including my sister—jumping into the water around me...and I realized I needed to think about something else quickly so as not to get aroused.

But Tara, not sensing my morbid thoughts, wasn't helping. She said, "They also like to keep themselves fully...trim, except for the hair on their heads, which they keep brushed out or braided neatly, also daily. To help fit in I do my best to match their style, hence the nakedness and the...well, being perfectly smooth everywhere."

I deliberately looked away because my eyes suddenly wanted to see Tara's "smoothness." She must've thought I was looking at a bird or something because she continued on this subject: "I realized, though, that shaving regularly out in the jungle was going to be difficult—just the thought of razor-burn in nearly one hundred percent humidity—well, so I sort of...cheated."

Without looking at her, I said, "What do you mean?"

"I have plenty of grant money for this project. And it's sort of a use-it-or-lose it thing. What I didn't spend would get folded back into the university foundation that's sponsoring this project. Now, I can honestly say that I did a very good job of staying well within our established budget." She paused, and when she continued her tone was a little more subdued, as if she was ready to confess something, which she did: "A few months before coming out here for the first time, while we were still planning and prepping and conditioning ourselves in the States, I realized I was going to be several thousand dollars under budget by the time I was here. So I indulged."

"Indulged?"

"Laser hair removal." She paused again, and I stole a glance at her, making an effort to stick to her eyes. She smiled. "For about five thousand dollars and a number of regular treatments, I went in for laser hair removal. Everywhere. And now I never have to shave my armpits or legs or—well, you know—again!"

She said this last bit with relish, as if she was thrilled to finally be able to confess this to someone. But all this did was get me to think about her perfectly shaved arm pits and legs and—well, you know. I said quickly, "Tell me about their diet."

Before I looked away again, I saw Tara pout a little. Had she been hoping for some sort of pat on the back or something? But she moved back into lecture mode quickly: "Their main food staple is sago. It's primarily a starch derived from the pith of the sago palm. They often form it into what you might call a pancake, and they eat it with fish."

"Hey, I can handle that," I said, genuinely encouraged. "Nothing healthier than fresh fish. I thought I was going to have to eat giant grub worms every day."

"Not every day, but they are an occasional treat for them."

I glanced at her again, and she was smiling and pretending to rub her tummy in content. I knew she was teasing me because I'd probably have to eat those grubs when offered and she was going to get a kick out of watching my reaction. But that thought suddenly left my mind when I found myself staring at Tara's tummy...and her breasts...and vagina.

I swallowed and looked ahead again, screaming in my head: SHE'S YOUR SISTER SHE'S YOUR SISTER SHE'S YOUR SISTER!

Tara continued in a slightly shaky voice, "Um, they also make a pretty potent drink out of the sago. Just a few sips will get your pretty drunk, but don't ask me to tell you how they make it until after you've tried it."

"Got it."

Trying to ignore the fact that her nipples were suddenly hard, poking out wonderfully. Hoping she wouldn't notice what felt like my penis beginning to swell ever so slightly as it flopped back and forth with our steady walking pace.

We fell into an awkward silence again, but fortunately it didn't last long. Before Tara told me, I could already hear other human voices, as well as the sound of rushing water nearby. We were at the village. I sensed that Tara was slowing her pace. I glanced at her.

She said, "Cal, there is just one more thing I need to tell you before I introduce you to the villagers."

The tone she used gave me warning that yet another bombshell was about to go off. This time, however, I didn't let myself get worried. I had already been duped into walking around the jungle naked with my own sister. What could possibly top that?

She said, "The tribe thinks that you are my new...mate, and we are engaged to be married by the village elders in three days."

As my stomach seemed to fall into my scrotum I had no chance to react to this statement, because two short dark naked men armed with bows and arrows suddenly pounced upon us from seeming invisibility. They grunted something stern and I instinctively raised my hands in submission, looking quickly at Tara. Though it would've been suicide I automatically began calculating how to take on the one guy closer to me while somehow shielding Tara from the inevitable arrow when, to my surprise, relief and admiration (despite still being in shock at being suddenly "engaged" to her) Tara quickly barked what sounded like a quick series of orders in what had to be the Kasabai language. Both men immediately lowered and relaxed their bows and turned, springing to step toward the sounds of the village. One of them glanced back and grinned, his white teeth flashing. I lowered my hands.

"Remember," Tara said to me in a low tone, "this is a female-dominant tribe."

Some moments later (just before I could think of a proper way to ask "What the fuck!" to my sister-now-fiancée) more villagers appeared. It was actually the two original bowmen, but they were preceded now by three dark women, all nude except for decorative reed belts hanging loosely on their hips, similar to but much more elaborate than Tara's. The women, presumably the "elders" my sister had described, were strikingly beautiful. They were somewhat short, like the men, but they were slender and honestly quite attractive for older women. I guessed their ages range somewhere at 40 to 50. As Tara had described, they were clean, perfectly trim and even elegant. I could clearly see their shapely breasts and the slits of their smooth dark vaginas.

The one closer to the five-oh mark, the one in the center, stepped away from the others, directly toward Tara. I was being very purposely ignored by the women. While I watched, Tara and this elder went through some kind of greeting ceremony. Tara bowed, uttered words in a very respectful tone, then waited. The elder reached out and placed her hands on Tara's shoulders, and Tara lifted her eyes. The elder uttered a few words of her own and then they both leaned toward one another until they touched foreheads. As they bent over toward each other I watched how their breasts hung down, Tara's perky round and firm, the elder's heavier and slightly saggy.

After the formal exchange of greetings, both Tara and the elder straightened and broke into wide grins. In a much louder voice the elder said a few things to Tara, who responded in the native tongue. While the bowmen remained where they were, the two other younger elders came forward, still ignoring me, and hugged and laughed with Tara, much more informally. The four naked women were like old chums now.

Finally, Tara turned toward me. With a gesture, she said something in Kasabai and I got the impression she was officially introducing me. In the middle of her phrases I heard her say my name, Cal. Only then did the three elders turn to look at me. Their smiles disappeared as, I surmised, they sized me up in their official capacity. It occurred to me that I was now engaged in some kind of approval process. Tara was clearly a well established and much beloved guest of this tribe, and here she was bringing a new "mate" into the mix. It was like I was being introduced to her mother...except there were three mothers...and we were all nude.

After being looked up and down from head to toe a few times by the women, the senior elder stepped toward me, coming so close that I could smell her, the faint scent of wild flowers. From behind her Tara softly said, "Cal, please defer politely to her. Cast your eyes down unless she bids you to look at her. Don't be afraid." Obeying Tara, I bowed my head slightly and kept my arms at my sides, though my lingering inhibitions made me want to fold my arms, or cover my genitals.

The elder was really looking at me now, even leaning forward and peering. She looked at my face, then reached up and pulled my bottom lip down. I felt her push on my teeth with her thumb, and she uttered something quietly. She took her hand from my face and moved it to my chest, poking into my pectorals, then squeezed my shoulders and triceps. More utterances. It was like I was being sized up like a prize goat or something. It was a little silly and despite the bizarre circumstances I felt a grin coming on.

But my grin turned instantly to a grimace of surprise and a little pain as the elder suddenly reached down and clutched my testicles! It was a good grip and by pure instinct I started to step back, but that only made the elder clutch tighter. I heard Tara say quickly, "Sorry, Cal, just hold still, it'll be over soon." Sure, over after what? After my balls were torn off? Thankfully, as quickly as the elder clutched my sack, she released them. But my sigh of relief jerked into a sharp intake of breath as the elder went right back down there gripped my penis!