The winter in the mountains had been harsh that year.

Greta still clung to the belief that everything would work out if they just remained patient and let the winds of fate decide their future. Hans scoffed at the idea just like he had rejected the inclination to trust the dreaded witch. He loved his adopted sister more than life itself but sometimes she was so irritatingly “good” that he left her to her cleaning in the tiny hut and he visited the Gypsy girls in the nearby camp next to the fast-running river that flowed from the higher peaks even in the coldest weather.

Hans accepted the fact that the girls in the Gypsy camp were usually dirty in stark contrast to the impeccable Greta, but sometimes a lot could be said for dirty and he just washed off their faces before getting up close and personal. The Gypsies were not a bad lot and, in fact, had often helped Hans and his sister when their own situation turned ugly. Like the time the black dressed soldiers from the lowlands had invaded the forest and made him watch as they took indecent liberties with his naïve sister almost to the point of violating her secret garden hidden at all times except when getting into or out of the bath. Fortunately, the Gypsy girls had descended upon them and mollified the soldiers with their suggestive dancing and enticing ways. They certainly had saved his precious Greta’s virginity on that occasion. She objected no longer when Hans became desperate for the kind of closeness between men and women easily found at the Gypsy camp. His manly needs were such that he could not enter into such activities with his sister Greta in the privacy of their little hut like true lovers and not siblings from the same family.  He had no doubt that such coupling was not without sin and would certainly result in guilty thoughts that would plague his conscience with everlasting annoyance.

***

Greta dusted in all the dark corners and now that her brother was gone to his pleasures in the Gypsy camp she took off all her layers of clothing except for her white cotton undies and her thin ribbons of soft fabric to hold her generous breasts in tightly. She did not want them to swing with each step she took no matter how tiny or measured. It was a way to keep her poor brother Hans from focusing on her femininity and assuaged her guilt at being so terribly beautiful and shapely of figure. She hoped he would find his release with the Gypsy girls and she wondered if he would be satisfied with just one or would sample a variety of them to compare their favors. The depraved thought made her blush and she allowed her free hand to wander down to her white undies to check the condition of her feminine folds. Just as she suspected, her slit was already damp with anticipation and she knew that if her brother had not found other sources of pleasure, she would have buried her head in the pillow and pretended to be a Gypsy for him and whatever needs that might arise in the heat of the moment.

***

Hans could not believe his good fortune.

The dark-haired Lenochka was surrounding his manhood with her juice-laden mouth and flicked her devilishly skilled tongue in places he knew needed female attention of the kind he could never possibly ask his beloved adopted sister to give him even with the lights off and the shielding covers on top of their writhing bodies. He was unable to tell the impossibly double-jointed Gypsy girl how wonderful her efforts felt to his sex-deprived man parts because her sister Natasha was sitting astride his face with her thick bush of curly hair tickling his lips and forcing him to open his mouth and enter her with his naughty tongue in a scouting trip to find her special places of important sensitivity. Once he had discovered her female trigger points, he would give her a “ride” that she would retain a memory of for a very long time. Her sister Lenochka was already past the point of no return with his greedy shaft and he realized he would have to flood her throat with his seed sooner rather than later in a way that would drain him of his power to recover for at least an hour of delicious respite in the arms of two nubile attractive females with no limit of kinky inclinations.

His throbbing member was still in Lenochka’s submissive mouth when the smiling Natasha groaned long and loudly. He felt the spray of her release on his face like a waterfall from a great height. It pelted his closed eyes, his nose and his lips with her female essence. It was the pervasive cloying scent that he loved so much to taste and inhale at just such times when his needs were overwhelming. They all rested in each other’s arms and he made acquaintance of their surprisingly pristine rear entries with his long middle fingers at exactly the same moment and watched the different expressions on their lovely faces when they knew he was truly in command of their nether regions. Lenochka was submissive in her acceptance of his dominance but Natasha was like a chained tiger fighting against the final inch of entry with flashing eyes and bared teeth that promised retribution for the loss of dignity. He knew deep in his soul that he was content with Lenochka’s reaction but that he simply had to get Natasha face down on the cushions and show her how exciting the real thing could be in her alternate entryway of love.

Strangely, Hans felt his thoughts returning to his Greta each time he entered one of the Gypsy girls and he stopped his feeble attempts to remove her face and the image of her delectable body from his mind as he worked hard to give the Gypsy girls the full intensity of his powerful weapon of lust. He whispered the name “Greta” under his breath each time he spurted into the pretty girls submitting to his will with obvious delight. He hoped neither of them could hear his almost silent word at that moment of truth.

***

Greta finished her chores and made her way to the small bed in the loft. She slept up in the loft and her brother slept in the rear of the large one room hut. It was better that way because they had fallen into a routine of humping with the blanket between them when they shared the bed together.

It hadn’t seemed to be overly sinful to her because of the separation of the blanket and the fact she kept her eyes shut tightly and pretended it was a knight in shining armor come to offer her marriage in the traditional way of things. Of course, she did enjoy the sensation of her brother’s long shaft poking between her legs from behind and took solace in the fact that it was cloaked with the protective blanket. It was enough to give her the defense of only taking the inanimate blanket as a lover and not actually her sibling Hans. When Hans reached around and clutched her generous breasts, she made certain they were still swathed in the fabric ribbons and that his skin didn’t actually touch her sensitive nipples like a real lover in the throes of passion. Still, it was enough to get her juices flowing and it was not unusual for her to reach the joy of orgasm several times in a single evening of “blanket” passion.

In the back of Greta’s mind, she excused her guilty feelings by reassuring her conscience with the fact that she had been adopted by the parents after the death of Hans’s twin sister in a swimming accident of long-lasting sadness. Hans was much too young to feel that loss and thought of Greta as his actual real sister and not a substitute freely given by a family with too many children and not enough soup for the pot.

Even after the long period of sharing the bed, they had “accidently” coupled in a way that protected their sense of guilt.

There was the time when the soldiers came and they both hid in the root cellar with Hans on top of Greta under the apples stacked on top of them both. His long shaft was buried deep into her cleft and she realized the tip was knocking on the door of her rear portal as the sound of the soldier’s boots over their heads made her rigid in fear. Her sense of fear and the thrill of her not-really- her-brother’s business pushing relentlessly into her tightly clenched sphincter made her orgasm uncontrollably revealing to Hans that she was not made of ice or stone without feelings. Neither of them had the inclination to move a muscle and it was the law of gravity that defeated her surrendering sphincter allowing Hans to take full possession of Greta’s drastically stretched rear door. Of course, they both knew it was inevitable and not planned, so they did not feel guilt at the happening. Still, with the sound of boots above them, Hans eventually was unable to forestall his lengthy draining into his “adopted” sister’s darkened cleft and she merely shifted her hips to show him that she had taken it all without the trace of reluctance one would have expected.

The soldiers didn’t find them that day but they returned the following day and that was when they made sport with Greta’s naked body right in front of Hans telling him,

“Are you sure this is your sister, young man, she seems too pretty to be living with a brother out here in the wilderness?”

Hans knew they were toying with his emotions and kept his wits about him. The last thing he wanted was to cause a commotion with his sister in a delicate position and in danger of losing more than her precious dignity.

Fortunately, it was at that exact moment that the Gypsy girls arrived to make music and distract the soldiers from Greta’s charms and focused on the Gypsy girls with their promises of “happy endings” to any song.

***

After his happy visit to the Gypsy camp, Hans quietly tiptoed back into the small hut and made ready for bed. He was glad his sister Greta was already in her little bed up in the loft but he felt the urge to go check on her anyway.

Slowly he climbed the wooden ladder and crawled over to her bed under the open window looking out the nearby trees filled with owls and other creatures of the night. The harvest moon was hanging low with fast-moving wisps of clouds passing like trains in the middle of the night. The sound of a wolf in the distance added to the magical image of the forest. His sister stirred with restlessness as she heard the call of the wolf in her sleep. He wondered for an instant if she was actually awake but her luscious breasts were peeking out at him with their aroused nipples and he knew she was under the spell of the forest moon and was sleeping soundly like a daughter of the nocturnal setting.

Hans was wearing only his deerskin loin cloth and he saw his sister was wearing only her white cotton undies and the pieces of fabric scattered around her nipples. Her nakedness reminded him of her defenseless posture under the control of the drunken soldiers. She had not been used because of the Gypsy girl’s intervention and he was glad of that because he knew she was still a virgin up to this very moment. His itchy fingers reached out and cradled her breasts and played with her nipples rolling them with a devious thought to make them extend even further. She stirred and her nipples hardened like his business inside the deerskin pouch. He removed the pouch and let his manhood stick out at an impossible angle ready to enter his not-really-his- sister’s feminine folds in swift and cherry-claiming possession. She must have sensed his manly proximity because her knees opened widely and she arched her soft yielding cheeks up from the mattress to meet his descending shaft in a way that insured her immediate taking.

The shattering of her hymen was enough to awaken Greta and she smiled up into her not-her-real-brother’s face with a reflected light from the harvest moon in her eyes.

“Oh, Hans, I have waited so long. Fill me to the brim with your juices and I will be yours forever.”

After that, the only sounds in the small hut was the creaking of the bed rocking in an ages old rhythm that culminated in the sounds of Hans satisfied grunts and the music of Greta’s squeals of passion that inspired him to repeat his performance a second time without pausing to withdraw to give her minimal respite.

They stayed to themselves mostly after that and Hans’s visits to the Gypsy camp were curtailed at Greta’s insistence because he had everything he needed right at home.