Mystical Tea (Part One)

My sister, Page, and I were sitting together in the shade of a tall red cliff system. We were both comfortable sitting on the sand, and it was hot.

It wouldn't be too much to say it was one of the most beautiful places in the world. The deserts of southern Utah are so grand and so strange; it was like visiting a hidden spot from God's deepest imagination.

My sister had a tiny camp stove and as she was setting it up, she was carefully explaining what she had with her.

I held it in my hand, it was just a little baggie filled with some herbs. It looked like nothing more than dried leaves. It was a gift from a very old and wise woman from the local Indian reservation, near where Page goes to college. It was a kind of Indian shamanic tea, used to attain visions.

Page made the tea in a small pot. It turned the water a deep red.

She calmly asked, "Okay, Shelly, are you sure you want to do this?"

I nodded yes.

"I don't really know what to expect. The old woman said it was something magic, and very powerful. She said we would be able to see and connect with the beauty of the Great Spirit."

"Is that like God?" I asked.

"I don't know, but since being away from home I think that I need a new idea about God."

"Don't let mom hear you say that!"

It was true, Mom would be really angry. She was such a devout Mormon that it created a really oppressive life at home. It was hard for me to really understand what Page had experienced away at school. Right now, she was open to so much more than I had ever known. My life, with all the rules of my religion, left me so closed off. I could never see it until I spent time with someone outside my little world. Page was from that alluring place beyond the confines of my home and all of its oppression.

The family has shunned Page since she went away to school. She was expected to just find a Mormon husband and get married and have kids. But instead she left home and went to a non-Mormon college out beyond Utah. My family, especially mom, just seemed to disown her.

I had to sneak away for this camping trip. I lied to get out here with Page. I told Mom that I was going with a group from LDS church. At first she said no, but I told her it was what I wanted for my birthday. After hearing that, she relented.

The thing that bothers me, and confuses me, is that Page is the most wonderful caring, loving and spiritual person I know. She inspires me, and I can't understand why Mom is so strict. It's like she doesn't care about Page. The family situation leaves me feeling sad, but right then I was elated to be with my beautiful sister.

Page took a drink from her cup, and then handed it to me. I didn't hesitate, I put it to my lips and drank. It was hot and bitter. It wasn't bad, but it was like nothing I had ever tasted before.

We handed the cup back and forth between us, and within a few minutes, we drank it all.

I asked, "Now what happens?"

"Oh God, Shelly, I have no idea."

My full name is Michelle, but Page has always called me Shelly. She's the only person who calls me that, and I love hearing it.

I was following my sister to wherever this would lead. I trusted and cared for her. She had always been so kind and supportive to me. I had just turned 16 years old, and there was already a lot of pressure on me at home to get married. I never felt this from Page, and there was such freedom because of that.

This was our third day out in the desert. We had three more days to go.

Page was a really skilled camper, and I learned a lot from her. The desert of southern Utah was really hot during the day, and it didn't get too cold at night, so you really didn't need much gear. My sister was so concerned about the weight of the backpacks that we only brought one sleeping bag. It was a thick down bag that could be opened up and it easily covered both of us. Growing up we shared a room and we would sleep in the same bed, and it was warm and wonderful, especially in the wintertime. So, both of us sleeping under one blanket was nothing unusual.

For the nights so far on the camping trip, we just slept all snuggled together under the stars. It had been lovely and comfortable. We had a tent with us, but we hadn't needed it.

The nights in the desert can get chilly, so it was nice to snuggle again, the way we would as girls on cold winter nights. I had missed Page so much and I was excited to sleep next to her. I loved the closeness. The first night of this trip was my last day as a 15 year old. The next morning Page woke me up with a hug and told me happy birthday. Nothing in the whole world could have made me feel happier.

We hiked in silence, and I was trying to be very aware of any effect from our shamanic tea.

The sun was setting. The desert in this part of Utah is really beautiful, but right then it seemed almost magical. Maybe it was the tea, my perception was the everything was all mystical and sacred.

Everything seemed holy in a way that I had never felt before. The sky, the rocks, the smell in the air, all of it was intensely beautiful, and so was Page.

She had been very active while at school, and she looked really healthy and fit. Her legs were long and tan, her shoulders were wide and strong. Her stride was so peaceful and confident. Oh my goodness, it was so inspiring.

I realized how much I missed her; she had such a confident way about her.

Page was only two years older than me and we looked a lot alike. Once, a few years ago, a photographer at a church meeting saw us together and he asked if he could take our picture. He came to our house and we sat out in the tall grass on our farm. It was just Page and me. Later, that picture actually made the cover of the Mormon Magazine! The funny thing was, they titled the picture: "Utah Twins and Moral Purity." They got that wrong, but we really do look like twins!

I always loved that picture; I just thought Page looked so beautiful.

I asked, "Page, do you notice anything, from the tea?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"What are you feeling?"

"I feel good, it's lovely here and I feel like I can really appreciate the glory of everything."

"Like everything is beautiful?"

"Yes, exactly!"

"I feel that way too."

Page smiled and said, "I feel a little bit strange, but it’s wonderful."

I said, "It's like I can feel God's love everywhere, it's radiating from everything, from everywhere."

Page said, "You feel that?"

"Yes, everything is filled with love. I can feel it."

We hiked up this long ridge though a very strange area of weird rock formations. It seemed almost haunted, but there was no fear in me. The travel was so mysterious, it seemed like we were leaving someplace, like walking forward meant walking away from everything else.

Page was in front of me, leading. I was so content to follow her; just to let her take me wherever she needed me to go.

Everything around us was this breathtaking orange rock. We were on some sort of vast plateau. It was calm and hot. The silence was fantastic. The colors and the smells were so vivid. Everything was alive, I felt like I was safe in God's embrace; it was astounding.

Was it the tea? Was it making me feel like this?

I told my sister, "I feel so strange."

Page replied, "I know, this is really intense, but at the same time, everything is just beautiful."

I said, "Yes but, maybe it’s too intense..."

Page looked at me and said, "Shelly, your face..."

"What is it?"

"Are you crying?"

It took me a second to realize it, but yes, I was. Everything was just so unbelievably glorious, it was making me all emotional. It must have been from the tea. It was so powerful that I was crying.

I stammered, "I think - it's - it's because I am so happy."

Page smiled and said, "Really?"

"Yes, I feel so intensely happy right now."

Page said, "Your mascara, is all smeared from your tears."

Just hearing Page say that made me feel a little angry, "I don't know why I put it on, Mom is so strict, and she makes me wear it. Everyday."

"But, Shelly, why? You are so pretty, you don't need it, I'm going to wipe it off, okay?"

Page took a bandanna and started to gently rub it against my cheek. Her touch was tender and soft. She smiled as she liberated me from something I felt I never wanted ever again.

She said, "There, that's better. I am so glad to be away from Mom and every horrible thing she stands for."

"What do you mean?"

Page carefully took her hanky and rubbed the stain from my other cheek. "Shelly, you don't need mascara to make you pretty, you are perfect and beautiful. Nobody should tell you what you should do. Especially Mom. She is so stuck in that awful church."

The things she was saying should have been blasphemous. But right then, it sounded so true. The tea had opened my mind and my soul. I saw so clearly how, I had been living a lie. Page was so open and free, and it was wonderful just being so close to her.

"Page, thank you, this means so much to me, nobody in our little town would ever say what you just said."

My sister smiled and said, "Shelly, I’ve missed you."

"I’ve missed you too."

I looked at my beautiful sister as she stood in front of me. She was so defiant, and I loved her for it.

I told her, "If Mom could see you, she would be so outraged."

"Why?"

"Page, it's so obvious, you don't have a bra on."

My sister had such lovely small breasts and it was easy to see her nipples under her t-shirt.

She smiled and said, "Well, you can tell Mom I don't have any panties on either."

"Oh my goodness, Page, I wish I had your nerve!"

In a very serious tone she asked, "Really? You do?"

I nodded yes.

We stood there on that amazing flat plateau, like we were on the top of the world. We just looked at each other as the wind picked up. Then Page took a little penknife out of her pocket. She opened it up so it's tiny blade glinted in the sun.

Page calmly said, "Take off your backpack."

And I did.

Then Page said, "Turn around."

And I did that too.

I was just astonished; it was like her confidence had hypnotized me.

What happened next was absolutely life altering. From behind, Page lifted my white t-shirt up to my shoulders and put her fingers on my bra straps. Then I felt her cut them, and then she carefully pulled my bra off.

I looked over my shoulder at her, and she handed me my bra, now useless with all the straps cut.

She let the t-shirt fall back down, and with my back still toward her, she pulled my nylon shorts down to my knees, so she could see my panties.

"Page? What are you doing?"

She didn't reply, but far off in the distance, there was a flash of lightning.

I said, "Page?"

"Shhhh, hold still."

And I held still.

My sister put her hand in my panties near my hip and carefully cut through the fabric with her little knife. Then she did the same thing at the other hip.

Then we heard the low rumble of the thunder. My panties just seemed to fall away, and she pulled at them, and handed these to me too.

She reached down, and she could obviously see my bare bottom, and she lifted my shorts back up, calmly and deliberately, like a mother helping her child get dressed.

When I turned to face her, she smiled and said, "There, I granted you your wish."

Then she hiked away.

It's hard to describe what I was feeling. It was the most powerful and liberating experience I had ever known.

I looked at the bra and panties in my hand. They were now cut and worthless. I dropped them, I didn't need or want them anymore. The wind picked up, and I let the underwear float away in the dust and smooth rocks.

They were useless to me now. I was somehow unshackled and free. I watched the white fabric skip along the sandstone and eventually disappear.

I turned to follow my sister, who was walking away from me. Beyond her there was a storm building on the horizon. It was dramatic and inspiring.

I ran to catch up with my sister and my breasts jiggled with each step. I felt glorious.

We hiked in silence. Dark clouds crept in above us and it began to rain. The feeling of the tea in my head and my breasts without a bra, and the landscape and my sister. It was like some heavenly dream. We were getting wet, but it felt so natural. I followed my sister right up to the edge of a wide river. The rain was falling harder, and we both looked at the slow moving water.

Page said, "According to the map, we need to be on the other side. If it rains like this for too long the river will rise and we won't be able to cross. We should get over there now, okay?"

"Okay."

"Before we do this, how do you feel?"

"I feel good."

Page looked right at me and said, "I mean, I'm a little bit worried about you. The tea didn't make you dizzy or anything, "

"Oh no, I feel very aware."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I feel wonderful. It's like the tea makes me see everything in a more intense clarity."

She smiled and said, "I feel that way too!"

"Tell me what to do."

Then she said, "We're already totally wet, so I'm just going to leave my clothes on."

With that, Page stepped into the water. She worked her way across, and it got deeper. She took off her backpack and held it above her head and moved into deeper water. I watched in amazement as she stepped forward into deeper water, and she actually fully submerged herself and for just a moment, it was just her backpack and her hands above the water line.

Then she walked into shallower zone and then she stepped onto the bank on the other side.

She looked across the river to me and shouted, "It's easy!"

Then I did the same thing.

I am just a tiny bit shorter and for the brief moment I needed to let myself step completely under water, it was like being embraced by nature, like being washed clean of everything bad, and filled with something from God. It was glorious.

Page looked at me as I got out. She was radiant and joyous.

She laughed and said, "Wow, Shelly! I think maybe it was the tea, but that felt wonderful!"

I stammered, "I feel it too. I really feel it."

He wet t-shirt was now tight against her body. Her nylon shorts were clinging to her body. I could clearly see her wet form. My senses were so alive. Even her hair was pressed tight against her head and neck. It was if I was seeing her, the real person, the hidden self was gone and what emerged was beautiful and alive.

She smiled at me and said, "Oh God, I feel wonderful."

I did too, I was awash in love. My sister was the most amazing vision I had ever seen. The water was cold and her nipples stood out hard under her wet t-shirt. I was happy to stare, the tea had freed something in me.

My sister was looking at me with a wide eyed expression of awe. Then I looked down at myself. My nipples were hard too. My nylon shorts were so thin, and the wetness made it easy to see my pubic hair pressed against the fabric. I normally would have felt embarrassed, but right then I felt proud of myself.

There was a strange moment where we just stared at each other by the edge of the river in the rain. 

Page finally said, "Oh my God, Shelly, you look so beautiful. You should never wear a bra, not ever again."

When she said that, I don't know why, but I shuddered. She was telling me that my hard nipples were beautiful.

Page said, "Lets move, we should find a campsite, we're gonna get cold."

The rain was suddenly much harder, and there was a sense of urgency. I was getting cold, and I thought Page was feeling it too. Plus, it was starting to get dark.

We hiked up a small hill well above the river, and Page pointed to a flat spot near some trees. She explained we needed a safe spot if the river flooded over its banks.

"This'll be perfect," she said in a surprisingly calm voice.

The tent was tricky to set up in the rain and the darkness. We had only slept out under the stars so far on this trip, so the tent was something totally new to me. I wanted to help but Page was pretty much doing everything. I felt like I was completely dependent on her. At this point I was cold and shivering.

My sister skilfully guided me on how to help with the fabric and the poles. It took a few minutes, but a little dome shape emerged from the nylon. Page adjusted a few things and the tent was all set up. I was surprised a how small it seemed. It had a main area inside that was just barely big enough for the two of us and it had a small covered vestibule.

Page said, "You should get in first. It's too small in there for both of us right away."

I said, "Okay."

Then Page said, "Your clothes are all wet, just take them off and leave them in the vestibule area."

"Okay."

I took off my shoes and socks and stood on the wet grass. Then it struck me, that all I was wearing was my t-shirt and running shorts.

"Page, you know I'm not wearing a bra or panties right now. What should I do?"

"You'll have to just take everything off and get in. If you have any wet clothing on, you'll never get warm."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm gonna do the same thing."

"Okay."

"Good, please hurry, I'll get in after you."

"Okay," I said.

As fast as I could lifted my t-shirt over my head and pulled my shorts off. Then, for a brief moment, I was standing naked in the cold rain and the icy breeze. There was something so exciting about it, something that felt gratifying. I was feeling defiant against everything our mother had tried to make of us.

"Please hurry, we need to get warm," Page said.

Before I could even think, I was in the tent, on the nylon floor. The sound of the heavy rain was loud when I got inside. My clothes were sopping, and I just left dropped in a little ball under the vestibule. There was something so dark and safe about being inside the tent. The red fabric seemed to create a magic feeling of security.

Page got undressed even faster than I did. I watched from my seated position in the tent. She stood out side the tent door, naked and wet. There was such urgency in the way she moved. I could see her through the low tent door from her belly button on down and even though it was getting dark I could see she was naked. She stayed outside in the pouring rain for just a little longer. Something seemed strange.

She was busy with our gear and it took me a moment to figure it out why it seemed so strange. My sister didn't have any pubic hair. I didn't know what this meant. I had hair, it was thin but Page was older, and she didn't have any.

I had seen her naked before but I guess it must have been a long time ago, when we were a lot younger.

Right at that moment, Page was all business and she handed in some gear in a big red stuff sack, "Here, everything in this bag is dry."

I took it and pushed it in a corner. Then Page handed me both of our sleeping bags, each in a waterproof sack. She handed me a few other items, all in little stuff sacks. All of this gear was making the inside of the tiny tent feel crowded.

Page said, "I think that's everything, I'll leave the packs out here, they have plastic bags inside, so everything will be fine."

I said, "Okay."

"I'm coming in."

I moved over and tried to give her some room. It was getting dark outside and everything in the tent was a deep red.

"I don't want either of us to get too cold," Page announced, and then she zipped the tent door closed. It was suddenly so dark it was hard to see anything.

She said, "This tent is tiny, I think our body heat should warm it up a little."

We were both wet, naked and sort of buzzing from the tea. We ended up giggling and bumping into each other.

Page said, "Let's roll these sleeping pads out."

So, for the next few minutes we squirmed around in the dark, my wet skin was constantly touching Page. It was really funny and we both seemed aware at how goofy this all seemed.

Little by little, we helped each other and managed to lie out both the inflatable sleeping pads. Page knew that I needed help with even the simplest camping chores and she was really patient and helpful. It was so dark that it was a really awkward trying to get it all done. We blew both of them up and set them down under us.

It felt so much better; to sit on the dry pad, rather than the floor of the tent. The softness really helped.

Page asked, "Are you still cold?"

"Not too bad," I answered.

"I have a flashlight in here, and a little towel too." She spoke as she rummaged around in the dark, searching each little bag.

I felt so strange; Page and I were both completely naked in this tiny little tent. It was so dark that I could barely see anything, and I could feel her skin bumping into me as she searched around.

"Can I do anything?" I asked.

"No, don't worry, it's in the tent somewhere."

I said, "That was fun when we crossed the river."

Page rummaged around and replied, "It was great. I just loved knowing that we couldn't get any wetter!"

"I like this tent, it's really cute."

She giggled, "It is cute isn't it."

"It's so tiny."

"It sure is, but I'm glad we brought it."

"So am I."

"I can't find the flashlight. Did I check everything?"

"No, I can feel that there's another bag near me, here in this corner."

"Good," and Page moved in and got right next to me. She seemed oblivious that her naked body was rubbing against me. Maybe it was because I was still cold, but I suddenly felt insecure and nervous, but she seemed peaceful as she moved and talked.

"Yes, I think it's in here," Page said as she found the little stuff sack.

She moved back and sat in front of me. Because we were so confined there was no place except right up close to me. I was sitting Indian style, and Page was sitting right across from me, and even though it was dark I knew she was sitting cross-legged Indian style too.

"I hope I can find the flashlight." Page said.

I mumbled, "This is so weird."

Then Page said, "Oooh, I found my comb, I can feel that."

She moved a little and our knees touched. We sat like this as Page felt through the bag of stuff.

Page said, "I found the little towel."

"I feel so weird, in the dark like this, it's just so, I don't know, so mysterious."

Page said, "I know. The tea is playing tricks on my eyes."

I laughed, "Page, that's because it's dark!"

"I know, but it's really weird and red in here."

She was right, it was weird. The color was so intense and the noise of the rain was loud. Drinking the tea had a spooky effect on our perception. The color was just so rich, and Page was close to me. It felt like we were both just souls floating in some dark red cloud.

Then she said, "I found it!"

Suddenly the light was on, and I was blinded by its electric intensity. The red color was so vibrant.

Even before my eyes adjusted, I was shocked to realize that Page was sitting right across from me, totally naked, with her knees spread wide. And so was I.

"Oh NO! Page, turn it off!"

She could hear the fear in my voice, and she snapped it off. It was inky and dark again, like we were underwater.

The image of Page was just burned into my vision. She was naked with her knees spread wide in that seated pose. I could see the smooth hairless image from between her legs and somehow glistening from the wet rain. I didn't understand what was happening. My deep impression was of absolute and perfect beauty, her wet skin and her wonderful body and her legs so wide apart. I was seeing it right in front of me and for some reason it made my heart pound.

The exquisite beauty of everything was just overwhelming. It was so intense that it was scary. We sat still for a moment, listening to the droning noise of the rain on the fabric of the tent. My eyes seemed sort of shocked by that moment with the light on, and they worked to adjust to the darkness.

The interior of the tent was almost throbbing the pale evening light just barely let me see anything. My sister, just inches in front of me was just a silhouette in the dark.

"Page, this is too much, I mean, we're both naked and - and..."

"It’s okay, Shelly.”

"Yeah, but it's just so..."

Page interrupted, "Shhhh, it's okay, really."

"I'm worried."

There was a little pause and then Page asked, "Can I comb your hair, like I used to do."

"Really?"

She spoke with a loving calm, "Yeah, I have my comb in my hand. It was in the pouch with the lamp."

I gasped out, "Yes, Page! Please!"

In the darkness of the tent I leaned in toward Page and she gently touched my head. Then, she carefully took the comb and ran it through my wet hair.

I immediately felt better.

"Oh my goodness, Page, this feels so wonderful!"

"Shelly, do you remember how we used to do this in our room as girls?"

"Yes, I always loved it so much."

"So did I."

She combed my long straight hair, down in front of my face. She was slow and smooth with each long stroke, it felt so wonderful.

Page calmly spoke, "I remember we would do it in our room, at night, in the bed together, in the dark, just like this."

"I remember."

The sensation of the comb in my hair and Page's gentle movements made me feel so content and peaceful. The sensation was so tender and amazingly loving.

Page asked, "Does this feel okay?"

"Yes, Page, it's magical."

The feeling of the comb sent little tingles across my whole body. My sensitivity to touch was so amplified from the tea. I shivered a little from the intensity.

Page asked, "Are you cold?"

"No, It's you and the combing. I'm all tingly and it's nice."

Page said, "I feel a little cold."

I asked, "Do you have that towel?"

"Yeah, it's right here." Page handed it to me.

The towel wasn't much, it was just a little bigger than a dishcloth. It felt clean and dry.

I asked, "Can I dry you off?"

"Okay, should I stop combing your hair?"

"No! Please, no. It feels so wonderful."

We were both sitting Indian style, our knees were touching. I held the little towel in my hand, and reached out and touched my sister’s leg. I gently let the fabric glide across her damp skin. I wiped her knee to her ankle, on both legs. She kept on combing, in smooth steady strokes. There was a calm and delicious rhythm to her motions. My hand with the little towel seemed to match that rhythmic motion. Long gentle strokes.

Page said, "I'm so glad you said yes when I asked you to come out camping with me."

I carefully wiped her thighs. They felt so strong and so healthy. It seemed weird, but she just felt so alive.

I giggled and said, "I need to spend more time with you, I think you're a good influence on me."

Then Page whispered, "It's because I love you so much."

We stayed silent as she combed my hair and I dried her smooth skin. Slowly, the motions seemed to merge, like we were doing a graceful dance in the darkness of the tiny tent.

I continued drying with the little towel and I move my motions up her thigh. I didn't want to touch her between her legs. I mean, it was dark and I didn't want to do anything awkward. But at the same time, I felt like that would have been impossible to do anything wrong; right then it felt like we were just so connected.

We had both just seen each other in that electric moment when the flashlight was on. I saw her, I mean, sitting right in front of me Indian style. I could see right between her legs. I know she had seen me too.

I had to try and visualize as best as I could in the dark where I was putting my hand. I carefully dabbed the little towel around the area of her, well, between her legs, being careful not to press too hard. I was especially gentle. The tea seemed to create such a heightened sense of emotion and knowing that Page didn't have any pubic hair just made everything even more serious. I moved very slow and deliberately.

I used the little towel and dried her tummy and her hips. I was cautious, my hands moved so smooth and slow. We were both silent.

I said, "Let's switch, I wanna comb your hair."

"Okay."

I took the comb and handed her the little towel. I reached forward and found her head and I set the comb in place and I drew it through her damp hair. Our knees were pressing against each other and I could feel Page's hands as she gently let the towel move along my legs.

Page asked, "Are you still ticklish?"

"A little, I think."

"I remember how incredibly ticklish you used to be."

"It made me crazy, you used to make me wet my pajamas!"

Page giggled, "It was cute..."

I could feel the towel running along my inner thigh.

She said, "I'll be very gentle."

We were silent. Page began to pat and dab, very slowly, with the soft towel near my, well, between my legs. I was shocked at how wonderful it felt.

I stopped combing.

Page's touch was so delicate and she moved in directly against my pubic hair. She was slow and gentle patting, in a circle, in the dark. The damp towel was like a warm glowing energy between my legs.

Then Page moved and rubbed my tummy with the towel. I started to comb her hair again.

Page said, "Here, let me dry your back."

She reached around behind me. It meant we had to lean in toward each other, the way we were sitting with our knees touching. I stopped combing and she rubbed the towel all along my back. I kind of shivered from the sensation.

I said, "This feels great."

She leaned in so her forehead was setting snug against my shoulder. I could hear her breathing up next to my ear.

Page whispered, "Your hair smells so good."

"It does? I haven't shampooed in a few days."

"It's sage. We've been camping in the dust and the sand and it made your hair smell like sagebrush!"

I put my nose into her hair and took a slow deep breath, and it was so delicious. She was right. It smelled like sage.

I said, "This smells better than any shampoo ever could."

We just let ourselves sit there, our noses deep in the others damp hair, all smooth from the combing. Page had her hands around my back and she rubbed with the towel. We were naked and it felt so heartwarming. The delicate sage smell was like an intoxicating perfume.

My sister’s tender touch was swallowing me into a deep pool of beauty. I was just awash in such an enormous feeling of love. It was an emotional blossoming of my soul.

Then Page moved a little and whispered, "Hold still."

I held myself motionless.

She put her face right up to mine and let her eyelashes flutter against my nose.

I instantly giggled and said, "Butterfly kisses!"

"We used to do this all the time, remember!"

I said, "Let me do it to you."

I blinked the way I had as a little girl. I eagerly tickled my sister's face all over.

Page said, "This is so cute. I forgot how much I love this!

"I love it too."

We both laughed. The love I felt for Page was boundless. Then Page slid the towel down my back toward my bottom. Feeling her touching me down there was so satisfying.

I let out a mournful little "Ohhh..."

_______________________

(end of part one)