And it wasn’t just her. We all hiked some distance up the Little Colorado, admiring its stunning turquoise water. Eventually, the guides stopped us and Jim and Jen jumped into the river to demonstrate how to body surf down the miniature rapids. Perhaps not surprisingly, Jen again chose to go topless, something that didn’t even seem all that odd in light of everything else that had happened. But what was surprisingly was how many of the other women chose to follow her lead when their turn came. Sonja, the other guide, also went topless, as did both, Candy and Krista, both of whom had done so the day before, though Krista seemed much less self-conscious about it this time around. But a few others did as well, including Alesha, whom I’d always wanted to see naked. Her breasts weren’t large, but they were firm and sexy. Both Becca and Lisa kept their tops on, despite Alesha’s best efforts to convince them to join her, but I could tell they both at least considered taking them off, which is something I never would have believed even a day ago.
Most interestingly, none of the women who took their tops off appeared in any hurry to put them back on once they got out of the water. It was only when we got back to the rafts and risked being seen by other raft groups that the bikinis and tank tops came back on.
Chapter Two: The Wrong Cot
That evening, once we arrived at the campsite, Becca and I carefully scouted the terrain. As there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky all day, we were looking for a spot that offered at least some visual privacy but was not too far from everyone else. We found what seemed like a perfect spot, near the center of camp but with some bushes blocking the view on three sides. There were several of these little bush-encircled “alcoves” at the site, and we noticed that Alesha and Alan took the one just upriver from us and Brent and Lisa the one just downriver.
As it turned out, visual privacy wasn’t an issue, because, like the night before, a bank of clouds rolled in during dinner. By the time we all turned in, it was again pitch black. We were now in the heart of the canyon, with its looming walls blocking out most of the night sky and the clouds blocking the rest. After brushing my teeth and taking a leak in the river, I made my way back to our cots. Becca, who preferred to use the camp toilet, told me she was going to go get in line for it. Before she left, though, she grabbed my crotch firmly and said “don’t you dare fall asleep before I get back. I’m not done with you.” And then she left me alone in the pitch black.
As I lay on my cot, waiting for her to return, I heard the same sounds of intimacy we’d heard the night before. It was intermittent and hard to pinpoint just where it was coming from. I could hear a woman moaning. I wasn’t certain, but it sure sounded a lot like Jen, our river guide. In my mind, I pictured her straddling Aaron (or maybe Jim?), her guide shirt unbuttoned and falling to each side, her breasts exposed. In a matter of seconds, I had a raging erection. The night was still so warm that I was lying on top of my sleeping bag, not inside of it. Nevertheless, I slid off my shorts, confident that the darkness would hide me. I lay there stroking my cock, soaking in the sounds, waiting for Becca to return.
A few minutes later, I heard steps approaching, accompanied by the bouncing beam of a flashlight. I wondered momentarily if I should cover myself, in case it wasn’t Becca and the flashlight’s beam happened to shine down on me and my exposed cock. Before I could act on that impulse, though, the flashlight switched off. I couldn’t see Becca as she approached the cots, but I heard her footsteps. She stopped just in front of the cots and stood silently. The sounds of sex in the camp were unmistakable by now, and they seemed to be coming from at least two locations. I could tell Becca had just noticed the sounds and, like me, was trying to figure out who was making them. I continued to stroke my cock with my right hand, but with my left, I reached up for Becca, finding a leg and then moving slowly up her thigh. When I eventually reached her pussy, I felt her hand already there. She was touching herself. A moment later, her hand pulled away, and I felt her sleep shorts slip down to her feet.
She stepped out of them, and I felt her lean toward me. Her hand touched my leg first and then quickly worked its way up to my cock. If she was surprised to find it already exposed and rigid as a flagpole, she gave no indication verbally. She wasted no time. I felt her swing her leg over me and climb onto the cot, straddling me, and then guide my cock inside her with her hand. Something felt odd, and it was only when I reached out for her that I realized she was facing away from me. My hands touched her back just as hers reached forward and touched my thighs. Now, Becca and I have a pretty good sex life, but I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had sex in this position. It just wasn’t in our normal bag of tricks. But damn if she’s wasn’t good at it. She slid up and down on my cock effortlessly, rolling her hips rhythmically as I gripped them with my hands. I could tell that she’d resumed touching herself with her hand.
As she gradually picked up speed, she began to moan softly. That was when the first twinge of disorientation hit me. I was lost in pleasure and distracted by the unusual surroundings and sounds around me, but I wasn’t so far gone that I didn’t notice how unusual Becca sounded. Why was she acting so strange? Was she pretending to be someone else? Was this some kind of role play fantasy for her? Whatever it was, it was incredibly arousing. I sat up, pushing her forward onto all fours, while I disengaged briefly and got up onto my own knees behind her. Then I drove my cock back into her and began fucking her doggy style, my hands firmly planted on her hips. She whispered, “oh yes, fuck me.” I reach around and grasped her tits through her tank top. They felt large. As my blood-diminished brain tried to make sense of that, she whispered again, “Fuck me, Brent, just like that.”
I stopped cold, the sudden realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. “Lisa?” I managed to say. She must have recognized my voice because, in a heartbeat, she had pulled away, scrambled off the cot and was fumbling in the sand for her shorts, muttering, “Oh shit. Oh my god.” And then finally, she asked, “it’s you, isn’t it, Clint?” She already knew the answer.
I was too stunned to respond at first. After a long, awkward moment, I said, “yeah, it’s me, but I swear, Lisa, I didn’t know. I thought you were Becca.”
“Oh god. I’ve gotta go.” And with that she was gone. I collapsed back onto my back, my stiff cock still in my hand, my mind racing. I was still in a state of stunned disbelief when Becca finally stumbled back into our campsite. It couldn’t have been more than a minute after Lisa had stumbled away.
After listening to her rummage through her bag a little, I felt her sit down on her adjoining cot. “I’m sorry it took me so long, the line-up for the toilet took forever.” Then she leaned in and whispered in my ear, “listening to all that moaning made me horny as hell. I couldn’t wait to get back.” With that, she reached over and I felt her hand grasp my cock.
“Whoooaa, big boy! Looks like you’re ready to go!” I thought I should stop her, and tell her what had just happened, but before I could even begin to formulate the right words, she was straddling me, guiding my cock inside her. And while my encounter with Lisa had left me shaken and confused, it had also left me incredibly turned on and desperate for release. So I just went with it and didn’t say anything.
Becca, for her part, was more locked in than I’d ever seen her. Like the night before, she made no effort to be quiet. She rode my cock aggressively, despite the loud creaking noises the cot made with every up and down motion. She was clearly getting off on the thought that others were hearing her and wanted to put on a show. And she wasn’t alone. The sounds of sex coming from around the camp had only intensified, and I was pretty sure some of that noise was coming from Brent and Lisa, whose cots were no more than 20 feet away.