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Vinos, Earth's Defender, is recruited for an...odd job.

That's it."

"Christine, we weren't found for 5 days," Misty said quietly.

"Oh, god, I, I, don't, know- I don't know what, what you, you mean-" I began. For some reason I started crying. Misty took me in her arms and held me as I sobbed, and I didn't even know why I was crying.

"It's okay, baby, let it out, let it go," she said soothingly. Here I was, a 32 year old blue collar female sobbing and shaking in the willowy arms of an 18 year old kid, with absolutely no idea of what was going on. I felt the brush of her lips on the back of my neck as she held me, and the gesture brought images of lips meeting in passion, of hands softly stroking necks. I don't know where they came from.

Eventually, my soft crying slowed and stopped. I pulled back from her, and looked at her again. Something was familiar about seeing Misty's beautiful, placid face from such a close distance. "It's coming back to you now, isn't it...baby?" Memories flooded my mind now, images of my putting together a small structure to protect us from the weather, of drying out our wet clothing so that we wouldn't suffer hypothermia, of our sharing our bodies' warmth to keep from freezing. And then, our first shared kiss, our thrusting our loins together, and exploding in passion, the feel of her wet pussy as I thrust my fingers inside her. Her cries, and moans, and my equally passionate replies, as we brought each other to orgasm after orgasm in our simple little shelter. Praying for rescue, but dreading it too, as it would mean an end to our...what?

The memory kept flooding in. Our first night together, when shock fully hit us both, and we both nearly died. How I stripped down and wrapped Misty in my clothes to preserve her body heat, then wrapped myself around her soft, supple body. How our faces, so close together in seeking warmth, brought our lips together in a passionate kiss, one that went on for hours and hours, while Misty was delirious and I was rational.

Then, less clear, the second day, when Misty had returned to sanity and recovered from mourning for her good friend Mike, but I was hit with some kind of infection from the lake water. I dimly recall Misty returning the favor as I shivered in fever and delirium, removing all her clothes and wrapping me in them, then embracing me and infusing me with life. Her lips to mine, her mouth to mine, the feel of her soft breasts reassuring, the smell of her musky pussy vaguely comforting me. The final 2 nights, with both of us fatigued, a crude mutual sleeping bag formed out of our now dry clothing, the two of us cocooned naked inside it, joined at every point.

Sisters. Lovers. One from two. We were joined in so many ways then. And I had shut it all out of my mind.

"Misty, I remember now. We were so close, but I shut out all memory of our experience," I marveled. "I'm sorry, I don't know why..."

"Christine, you've still been in shock this whole time," Misty said.

She looked into my eyes, held my hands in hers and said, "you helped me to survive, can I help you to heal?"

I started crying again, and didn't fight her when she helped me stand, then led me toward my bedroom. There, she gently stripped off my clothes until I was naked, and helped me under the cool sheets of my queen size bed. A little later, as I was dozing, I felt her slip in next to me, her naked skin silky smooth and warm against mine.

She kissed me gently on the lips, and I snuggled into her, then drifted off to my first real sleep in over a month. It seemed like days later when I awoke, to find Misty asleep, her face against my naked breasts, her warm arms around me. I never felt such a sense of peace and satisfaction as I felt then. I even noticed birds chirping merrily outside my window, the beams of sunlight slanting beautifully in the window, something I'd never noticed before.

I felt Misty's eyes on me as she awoke. She pulled herself up level with my face, and looked uncertainly into my eyes. "Is this okay, Christine?" She said.

I smiled at her, and whispere

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