Chapter 2

Our raft trip down the river towards Lake Powell began the day after Donna and I had delivered a boat trailer to a canyon takeout point where we had discovered a mutual carnal lust. A river ranger named Ellen had the task of rowing the raft while Donna and I visited eroding Indian ruins, taking notes and drawing maps. Ellen also had the job of stopping other rafting parties to make sure they had proper permits and life preservers. I was new to this river stuff, and no one had warned me that on many of these private rafts, clothing was optional. Ellen explained that Utah was a conservative place, and nudity along the river although common was intentionally not talked about. Since we were on government business, it was not appropriate for us to completely undress.

However, as soon as we had floated away from civilization, off went most of Ellen's uniform, although she did continue to wear a ranger's hat to identify herself as a public servant. She wore a small bikini, and proceeded to liberally oil her exposed skin with suntan lotion. Donna stripped down to an equally small bikini and I removed my uniform shirt, keeping on a pair of running shorts. I opted for sunscreen which Donna rubbed onto my back. Before long, we overtook another raft on which everyone was naked. Ellen checked their permits and discussed some upcoming rapids. I pretended to write in my notebook while eyeballing the entire situation from behind dark sun glasses. With the exception of our small raft party, everyone else we encountered on the river that day was naked. It was beyond me how anyone could not get turned on by the scenery.

The day became very hot and we pulled off the river at the mouth of a narrow canyon. Ellen said there was a spring fed pool a short distance up this canyon that she had discovered on a previous trip. She pulled off her bikini and persuaded us to remove our suits as well, saying that our nudity would not be seen. The canyon pool was crystal clear and the three of us savored its coolness for nearly an hour. Ellen then said she had to return to the raft, but that Donna and I didn't have to return immediately, and could enjoy the water for a few more minutes. As soon as Ellen disappeared down the trail, I stroked my flaccid penis into a rigid state of attention while slowly walking towards Donna, who dangled her feet off the side of a rock ledge into the pool of water. I couldn't help myself. She looked so beautiful sitting there naked with her long raven hair.

Donna tried to remain aloof, saying that we had only a few minutes and she didn't want to start anything and risk getting caught by Ellen or anyone else who could come back up the trail from the river. I reluctantly agreed, but asked if I could at least kiss each of her nipples before our short hike back to the raft. This she did agree to thinking it would hasten our departure. But she permitted my kisses to become a prolonged caress, and as had happened the day before, Donna's nipples became erect bullet points as I greedily sucked one and then the other. She flinched as I lightly tugged on her her sensitive areola with my teeth, let out a small moan, and again said we should stop.