I'd known my "uncle" Jerry and his wife and kids since I'd been in diapers. They were the only genuine Native Americans I'd ever met.
Even as a young kid I suspected they weren't really related to my family. Just really good friends of my parents. That feeling turned out to be right on the money, as my dad explained he'd first met Jerry during the late 60's when the hippies and members of the American Indian Movement had come together to protest the government in the Bay Area.
Despite the fact there was no actually relationship between our families I was expected to consider Jerry and his wife, my aunt and uncle and all their kids (they seemed to have more every year) my cousins. I didn't mind, I liked them.
I guess it was sometime in the mid 1980's, I was around fifteen or sixteen and Jerry and his whole family came for a visit. The house was really crowded and I and my brother ended up sharing a room with three of Jerry's boys. That wasn't a bad deal, our sister had to share her room with Jerry's five daughters. One bathroom between fifteen people was a nightmare. But other than the bathroom situation, the cramped conditions were kind of fun.
It was my dad who suggested we all go camping along the banks of the San Joaquin River for a few days. It would get us out of the house and connect us with nature. Dad had always been big on "connecting" with nature.
I only wanted to connect with Jerry's second oldest daughter Jamie. She was about my age and gorgeous. Everytime she looked at me and smiled I felt like one of those old timey cartoon characters that gets hit with Cupid's arrow and all these hearts start popping off around his head. I had it bad.
It had been impossible to spend much time with Jamie at home because of all the other people hanging around. The second I'd start talking to her, inevitably someone would start ragging on us all "Oh oh, Jamie and Benny are flirting!" or worst of all my sister would start singing that stupid fucking song "Benny and Jamie sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g" and everybody would laugh, including Jamie.
The campsite we picked out was great. We had one entire bank of the river to ourselves. While the grown-ups slept in tents at night along with the smaller kids, the rest of us roughed it on the ground. I purposely laid my sleeping bag as close to Jamie's as I could.
That first night we laid there and talked nearly til dawn. I still remember ever falling star we saw, ever splash of a fish in the river we heard and ever word we said.
The next day we swam for hours, but we still didn't have a chance to just be alone. That came the following morning, our last at the river. Jamie woke me up at dawn. It was freezing, but I shrugged out of my sleeping bag and followed her to the lake.
"Let's go across," she said quietly, smiling.
"Are you nuts??" I said, "that water's gonna be ice cold."
"Yeah," she nodded. "So?? I'm going. I guess if you want to go with me you will. If you don't..." she shrugged and slipped into the water and started swimming.
About 10 feet out she turned and smiled at me. It was all the motivation I needed. I waded in after her, holding in the string of choice expletives the freezing water forced to my lips. I wasn't as strong of a swimmer as Jamie, it took me longer to cross the river. When I got to the other side, she'd been sitting and waiting for me a little while.
"About time slow poke," she teased. I was shivering. "Sun'll be up higher soon, won't be so bad."
"N-now wh-what??" I asked.
"Now we go for a walk," she smiled and took my hand. We walked down the bank and into the woods.
"It's beautiful here," she said. I agreed. I wasn't normally a morning person. But the way the light played through the trees and the mist clung to the ground was etheral, dreamlike. I liked it.
We finally reached a little clearing and Jamie turned around and kissed me. I hadn't been expecting it. I stiffened a little, then relaxed into it, putting my arms around her.
"Only chance we're gonna get," she said, when our lips parted. I felt her gently tugging me forward, even as she lowered herself to the ground. She lay on a bed of dewey grass and I laid on top of her. We started kissing again.
I felt her hands run down my back and squeeze my ass, even as her tongue slid around my own and probed the contours of my mouth. My groin responded appropriately.
I ran my lips across her soft flesh, kissing, nibbling and tasting her skin, like cinnamon mixed with sweet brown sugar. I ran a hand through her wet hair, so long and glossy and black. She removed her top, exposing her breasts and their hard little Hershey's Kiss nipples. I sucked them hungrily, pulling on them with my teeth. She sighed and dug her nails into my back.
"Take your pants off," she told me and I complied, quickly shedding my cold, wet jeans. She removed the shorts she was wearing, tossing them out onto the grass. Her panties followed. She had a little bush of black hair forming a perfect delta between her legs. I slid down between her thighs and proceeded to eat her pussy. She squirmed and moaned and ran her hands through my hair, grabbing handfuls of it painfully sometimes, arching her back at other times. I fingered and ate her until she shuddered with orgasm, then I mounted her and slid my cock into her soaking wet pussy and rode her rough and hard there on the grass, with the morning sun shining through the trees onto my back. I came and we lay there naked in the sun, smiling and kissing and talking til we both wanted to go again. This time I lay on my back and she rode me, grinding against me and staring down at me with her big chocolate eyes. If I just liked her before, I thought I was in love by now.
After I came again, we dressed and made our way back to the river and swam across to the opposite side. We managed to make it into camp before anyone else woke up and crawled into our sleeping bags.
Uncle Jerry and his family left a couple of days later.
About five months later I came home from school and was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a soda, when my dad walked in and sat beside me. He stared at me.
"What??" I asked.
"Uncle Jerry called," he said.
"Uh, ok," I said. "How is he??"
"He's going to be a grandpa," my dad said.
"That's cool," I said, drinking my soda.
"I'm glad you think it's cool" Dad said. "Because I'm going to be a grandpa too. A lot earlier than I expected."
I stopped drinking.
"Jamie's pregnant," my dad leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.
"Sh-she is??"
He nodded. "Guess who she said did the deed??"
"I love her," I said. It felt weird admitting it to my dad.
He sighed. "Your too young to know what love is. At any rate, Jerry's found religion since we were younger. I suggested Jamie abort it for both your sakes. Jerry refused, said Jamie's having the baby. And their putting your name on the birth certificate as father."
"Good," ; I said. "It's my baby. I want it."
My dad groaned and shook his head. Then just stood and walked away.
He was wrong about my not knowing what love was. In fact, I ended up marrying Jamie when I was nineteen in '91. Our daughter was two, going on three at the time. We had another little girl about a year later and a boy since (Jamie had her tubes tied following the birth of our son). Unlike my parents, who divorced in '90, Jamie and I have been married for going on 22 years now. The sex is still amazing, and Jamie is still the prettiest woman I've ever seen. A living, breathing Pocahontas.