Magical Tea

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 seems 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 gently. 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, "Lets 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 loved 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..."


Page heard the emotion in my voice and stopped with the towel.

She asked, "Shelly? What?"

"It's my - It's just my bottom."

"What is it, you sound sad?"

"It's just that - I mean - I feel so ashamed about my bottom."

"Shelly - No, don't say that."

"It's just so big."

Page said, "No it's not."

And she put the towel against it and rubbed all over it.

She said, "It's not big, it feels pretty."

I said, "Mom is so worried about me finding a husband, she's been telling me I should loose weight."

Page interrupted, "Oh no, that's terrible, you're totally perfect!"

"It makes me feel awful. She says my bottom is too big to ever get a husband."

Page continued to rub with the towel, all over my bottom.

Then she said, "Oh no, don't listen to her, it's totally wrong of her to say something so mean."


"I know."

"Y'know, it's funny you still call it your bottom. I mean, you are eighteen now, and that's old enough to call it your ass, or at least your butt."

"I know that too."

"Don't worry, I love hearing you say bottom. It's cute."


"Well, whatever I say, it's so big" There was some sort of gloomy emotion in my voice. It felt like the tea was amplifying my feelings, even my sad ones.

"Please don't say that."

"But."

"Shelly - NO!" Page stated firmly, "It's beautiful. It is really and truly beautiful."


Oh my God, she sounded so certain.


"But Page, it's just so."

She interrupted me again, "No, please don't say anything more. Listen, I have been with you for three days now, and all you've worn are your cute shorts. Remember, I've hiked right behind you and I love being able to see your beautiful bottom."

"Really?"

Page let go of the towel and put both hands on my bottom, and gently caressed it with her hands. We were still sitting Indian style, knee to knee, so it felt almost like an embrace as she reached around behind me.

She said, "Yes really. It's so perfect and so smooth and adorable."

"Page, are you saying this just to make me feel better?"

"No, I really and truly mean it."

There was a long pause. My sister's hands continued to gently caress my bottom.

Page then said, "I love your beautiful bottom so much, I want to tickle it with little butterfly kisses!"

It was such a weird thing for Page to say, but it sounded so sweet and so honest.

I giggled and said, "You would do that, for me?"

Page said, "Yes, I used to love sharing little Butterfly kisses with you when we were little!"

"I loved it too."

Then she whispered, "And I love your bottom."

Everything was so dream like and strange. I felt like so many of my fears and restrictions were washing away. I had always felt so ashamed of my bottom and now Page was telling me that I shouldn't feel that way. I just loved her for saying that. 

I was letting myself believe it, to really believe it. "Thank you, it helps me so much to hear you say that."

"Shelly, is it okay? Can I?"

"What?"

She eagerly asked, "Can I make little butterfly kisses on your bottom?"

"What? Are you serious?"


"Oh God, yes."

"I don't know."


"Please Shelly, let me do it, it'll be nice."

My sister sounded so thoughtful and kind. Her kind words just seemed to dissolve all my worries.

I shifted from my sitting position and that was tricky to do in the tiny tent. I was really self conscious about both of us being naked. It was dark, so I moved slowly and I lay myself down on the sleeping pads. I had the soft down sleeping bag under my tummy as I melted into the softness of everything.

Then Page moved and sat on the sleeping pad down near my legs. She was so cautious and gentle that I felt completely at peace. I had to spread my legs a little and I could feel her as she moved into a sitting position in between my knees.

Page giggled, "Shelly, it's just so dark, I'm not really sure where your bottom is."


I could feel that she was cautiously moving around behind me. I wasn't sure what to think, but I waited anxiously. Then I felt it, the tiny tickle sensation of Page's fluttering eyelashes on my bottom. Oh God, it was electric. I don't know if it was the tea or just the emotional closeness, but it was like I was awash in sympathetic shivers.

"Shelly, you smell nice."

"I do?"

"Yes, you smell like the river. You smell clean."

Page just kept doing it, that delicate little blinking, right against my naked bottom. It went on and on and on. I was joyous. It was strange and at the same time really gratifying. My sister was being so genuine and I could tell she was really and truly happy.

I nervously said, "Page, feels really weird, I mean, it's nice, but it's just so funny that you're actually doing this to me."

Page giggled and said, "I wanted to do this. I like it."

"I can tell!"

Then she put her hands on my bottom, on each side near my hips.

Page whispered, "Oh Shelly, it's so smooth." 

"This is really nice. I can't believe how good this feels." 

Page just let out a contented, "Mmmmmm."

I just laid there quiet and still. My sister's soft hands felt so wonderful as she gently caressed my bottom. It was almost as if she was sending emotions through her fingertips, I could feel a beautiful sensation of love.

Then she whispered, "I want to see."

"What?

"I want to see. I want to turn the flashlight on."

I nervously stammered, "You do? But - I - I don't know if - if you should." 

"Oh please, let me turn the light on, please. I know it must be so pretty, I really want to see."


"But Page."


She whined, "Pleeeeeease?"

"I don't know, I mean, it's just..."

"Shelly," she interrupted. "I've been totally honest when I told you how much I love your bottom. I'm not kidding."

"But."

Page went on, "Please listen to me, I love your bottom. Really I love it. I love your smooth, soft, perfect and beautiful bottom. I pulled your shorts down today, remember? I got to see it, just for a second and it was so cute. So please let me do this, I'm begging you, please."

"But."

With desperation in her voice, she said, "Shelly please, I have to do this."

After a long pause, I quietly answered, "Okay."

Page reached into the corner of the tent near my head, and I don't know how she found it so quickly. She just seemed to grab the flashlight in the dark.

With out any hesitation, there was a little click, and the tent was all lit up.

The way I was laying on my tummy, my face was looking over to the side, right up near the tent fabric. The color red was rich and vibrant. All I could perceive was just a warm thick red glow. 

There was a pocket sewn into the side of the tent and Page put the flashlight in it so it pointed up away from us, up toward the ceiling. The effect was so subtle and the inside of the red tent was lit with a soft warm glow.

And then Page said, "Shelly, oh my God."

I asked, "What?"

"What you are doing is so wonderful."

"What? Tell me."

"You're kind of pumping your hips. Its really beautiful."

It took me a second to realize what she was saying, but it was true. I was kind of unconsciously rubbing myself, my groin, against the sleeping pad.

I whispered, "I don't understand what's happening."

Page said, "It's okay. I like it, I don't want you to stop."

I tried to understand what I was doing. The little humping motion felt unconscious. At the same time it somehow seemed honest and perfect.

I asked, "Why is my bottom doing that?"

"Maybe it's from the tea. I know it's making me feel really emotional."

"I can't help doing this, it's feels funny."

"Shelly, what you're doing looks really cute."

For the next five minutes Page told me over and over (and over!) how pretty she thought my bottom was. Her words were like magical medicine, and she was curing me of all my fears and insecurities. Hearing her, and the honesty in her voice, just sent me to a heavenly place.

I just allowed my hips to pump and move with that deep natural rhythm. I let it happen. I enjoyed it. The effects of the tea just made everything so much more inspiring. It's hard to explain, but it felt like God was finally letting me know who I really was. I was beautiful, just exactly like Page has been telling me.

She wasn't touching me but I knew she was looking at my bottom. Her words were so loving and honest. After a while she drifted off into silence but I could tell she was staring at me.

I whispered, "Oh Page, thank you. It feels so good to hear you say all those nice things about, well, about my bottom, about me, about something that I worry about."