Hot Secrets in the Isolated Mountains

Chapter 2

I could've started my story way earlier, like back in childhood, but it'd just be a bunch of whining, stacked-up insecurities, fear of getting found out, shame about everything. I've grown the fuck up these last few years, matured way too fast inside, and that's why I figured I already had adult rights. I nagged my parents every damn day to let me and Jana travel alone, just the two of us. In our heads, it'd be the biggest adventure: another country, beaches, parties, making out with every hot guy and girl who crossed our path, no one watching, no rules, no fears.

But of course, that didn't happen. My parents aren't crazy.

They looked at me like I'd asked to go live on the moon. The most I could swing was convincing them to let us go to the mountain house, this little spot tucked into the hills, gorgeous as hell, one of those places that looks like a postcard. The town's a speck, tiny and boring. Without a car, you're really cut off, and we don't even have licenses or know how to drive. Our parents greenlit it because it was too safe: neighbors all old farts, retirees, folks who wake up at six for coffee on the porch and crash by nine. Jobs in town? Just farming or nothing. If you want a life, you head down to the big city. So, kissable mouths? Zero. They figured nothing could go wrong.

The adventure was nothing like we dreamed. They wouldn't even let us take the bus alone. They blew a ton of cash on a private Uber, the driver didn't leave till he saw us locking the house doors and waving bye from the window.

The house is beautiful, nothing modern about it, it's old-school, full of dark wood, creaky floors, big windows opening to the green. Old architecture, like a cabin from a movie, the kind of spot everyone dreams of retiring to. Mountains all around you, closing in, daring you to climb, cool and rainy in that cozy way that makes you wanna stay under the blankets all day.

And what were we gonna do there?

Nothing.

There's a little market that sells cheese bread, milk, some homemade sweets. There's a hip little bar on the square, with wooden tables outside, cold beer, and low music at night. That's it. Internet? Barely. You get one bar if you stand on the south-facing porch, and even then it drops constantly. And in those circumstances, what do two teenagers do when they're stuck alone, locked in a house in the middle of nowhere, no one to check on us, cell phones barely working?

Fuck.

We headed out to the street acting all grown-up and responsible, like "look at us, two mature girls buying supplies." We went into the tiny market on the square, grabbed a basket, and started filling it: frozen food to heat up in the house's old microwave, some bags of chips, sliced bread, cheese, ham. Then we hit the drinks section. Cold beers, gin, and a bottle of vodka that Jana swore we could mix with orange juice for decent cocktails.

There was enough booze to get us pretty wasted and wake up with a little liver damage as a weekend bonus. Oh, and of course, we bought a pound of meat to try a barbecue. Jana said she knew how, that she watched her dad at the grill every weekend, I jumped on it without thinking twice. It was gonna be epic, or at least we'd pretend it was.

We just forgot to buy the salt and charcoal.

Jana and I had been best friends forever. Like sisters, but without the blood. Even after we got older, she'd never seen my dick straight on, no shame. When I changed in front of her, I always turned my back, hid under the towel, or waited till she left the room. Maybe she'd caught a glimpse once or twice when I was careless, but there was never an "look here" or anything like that. She was fine being naked, no big deal, changed clothes in front of me, walked around in her panties, showered and came out wrapped in a towel just to chat. And to me, that was totally normal.

We never had anything real romantic. We'd kissed on the mouth, yeah, full-on tongue, when we were about twelve or thirteen. It was a rainy afternoon in her room, we were playing truth or dare, some silly shit, and it happened. Nothing major, just kid curiosity about what it was like. Afterward, we laughed, smacked each other's foreheads, and never brought it up again like it was serious.

But we talked a lot about sex. Or rather, she did. Jana spilled everything: what it was like touching herself, how her pussy got wet when she watched a dirty video, how she imagined a guy or a girl doing things to her. I stayed quiet, embarrassed as hell. When she talked about her pussy to me, like describing the smell, the texture, how tight it gripped her fingers, I felt this weird discomfort. It wasn't disgust, it was something else. My dick would throb lightly in my panties, I'd cross my legs tighter, my face would burn, and I'd change the subject quick. I don't know the exact reason, maybe because I didn't have that to compare, maybe because picturing her like that got me turned on and confused at the same time.

And the conversation started something like that.

We were in the guest room, windows wide open letting the cold mountain breeze blow in and chase away that musty smell old houses have. It was our third or fourth beer each, the sky outside darkening slowly, turning purple and gray, and the yellowish lamp light made everything feel warmer and messier. Jana was lying on her stomach on the bed, legs kicking in the air, me sitting on the floor leaning against the headboard, knees up, beer in hand.

She asked out of the blue, staring at the ceiling like it was casual.

"And Gabriel, nothing?"

I ducked my head, fiddling with the cold can, feeling the metal sweat.

"I think it was just curiosity. I've never seen that before, but I figure guys like dick more than girls do, has to be."

She laughed low, took a long swig, and rolled on her side to look at me.

"Yeah, girl, we gotta get laid this year. Figure it out, I'm almost set."

"Set for hell, maybe. You really gonna give it up to that idiot?"

"I'm kidding, I ain't."

I sighed, staring at the scratched wooden floor.

"The fuck is, in my case it's different, right?"

She went quiet for a second, waiting for me to go on.

"I want a guy, but what about the dynamics? I'd have to give up my ass! What if I don't like it?"

She glanced around, like she was scared someone might hear, even though the house was empty. Then she took a deep breath and let it out.

"But girl, you never tried sticking anything in there... like... to see if it works?"

I made a face, laughing to hide the heat rising in my cheeks.

"Woman, I don't even have an ass if you wanna know. My shit smells like flowers wafting through the air forming glittery rainbows."

She burst out laughing, throwing her head back.

"I know that rose smell, you little freak, like we never shared a bathroom."