Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content, as well as scenes of rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, or non-consensual sex.
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The soles of my shoes slipped, ankles angled to grip the blunted tips of granite piercing the near 90-degree incline, the wall punctuating an otherwise consistent switchback. My thighs burned. The accumulated lactic acid over ten hours permeated every muscle fiber, stiff and stabbing with every effort. Justin, my friend's son, a recent high school grad and muscular All-American heavyweight wrestler, waited for me to scale the natural rock barrier before climbing it himself.
I looked down at Justin ascending from atop the ledge, admiring his arms, the stretch lightening the color of the smooth, young skin over the flexed bugles. Nothing but a tank-top, runners shorts, and backpack straps hung on his solid frame.
Teeth clenched, eyes squinting, the sound of Justin's breathing grew labored. He was near the top. I laid down flat on the dusty trail and offered my hand down to him. A pained yell blasted from his open mouth, pulling his sizable body up far enough to reach. Our hands clapped each other's forearms, one after the other.
"Fuck, Justin, you're a heavy motherfucker," I said, the words escaping through my clenched teeth.
Justin scanned the surface and pushed up against any granite structure his feet could find. He let go of one of my arms to hook under one of my pits. Hands freed, I laced my fingers together and hit his upper thigh, prompting him to lift his knee. He did. I pulled up, lifting the stout boy with all my might. Justin bent his torso to one side. A knee cleared the top's edge, grazing against the side of my shoulder and leveraging to pull the rest of him up, bending his upper body over onto my back. He lay on me, hyperventilating, his crotch resting on the back of my neck, my ass pillowing his face.
My groin twitched. I chuckled to myself. The bitch lucky enough to rummage around in that nest had my envy. The weight smashed my ribcage and face into the gravel and stones on the trail. Had the situation been just a little different, I'd have relished him crushing me under his mass.
"I wasn't kidding, you cow. So get off," I said, insistent but playful.
With a grunt, the flex of his chest and stomach against my back triggering a roll to one side, his legs dangling over the edge.
"God damn it, Uncle Mike," he said. "Why'd you take me on this ball-busting hike?"
"Hmm, let me see why, that's a good question, why—" I paused, giving him a side-eye, tapping my index finger against my jaw theatrically. "Because your pussy ass has been bugging me to take you since you were seventeen, that's why."
Justin laughed. I offered my hand and pulled him to his feet.
He bent over and put his palms on his knees, head down, taking deep breaths.
"Just a little over a mile left, boy," I said, motioning at him to follow.
Taking one last deep breath, he stood upright, and we continued to navigate the winding, dusty trail.
It was technically illegal to camp outside designated areas in the park, but I'd been to this spot a dozen times over the decades. The view and pristine wilderness couldn't be beat. My big mouth wouldn't shut up about the fantastic spot to my best friend, Justin's dad. Its location was one of my few secrets, but when Justin kept asking me to show him, my resistance consistently eroded. His dad wasn't athletic and didn't take him hiking. If it weren't for his mother, perhaps he'd have skipped sports altogether. Thank god for her. Wrestling had transformed Justin into a fine-looking young man with a strong jaw, cleft chin, warm sepia baby-soft skin, thick, short, black hair, and deep russet eyes with flecks of glowing ember.
At the campsite, the two of us lay atop our sleeping bags on a huge flat boulder, its base two feet above the ground, at least twenty feet wide and thirty feet long. It was too nice out to be inside our warm sleeping backs. We both laid on top. Our small fire glowed orange with foraged wood embers, at our feet, smokeless, serving mostly to cook our meager tinfoil wrapped food and to embellish the ambiance. On that moonless, cloudless night, we gazed, enraptured, at the mind-shattering view of the Milky Way, our heads resting on our fingers.
Silence was default on my trips here alone, but Justin streamed his thoughts.
"You could never see this from home," he said.
