Chapter 6

A couple of weeks after the young Japanese American ranger named Donna had accompanied me on a float trip down Utah's San Juan River towards Lake Powell, the other person in our rafting party, a ranger named Ellen, invited us to barbeque at her house, located at the edge of a small village about forty miles distant from the government compound where Donna and I each lived in small cottages. I offered to drive Donna to the cookout in my jeep, which she readily accepted. I had just removed the canvas top of this vehicle, and I thought it looked cool to drive around with wind blowing through my hair.

We were running late, and I entered Donna's cottage saying we needed to hurry up. She was standing in front of the bathroom sink applying some lipstick. For the occasion, she wore a tight fitting denim skirt that ended several inches above her knees, accentuating her smooth dark tan legs. She also wore a gauzy white cotton tube top held up by a thin string tied in a bow at the back of her neck. Being nearly flat chested, Donna did not need to wear a bra. Recalling a prior evening when she had bent naked over that same sink and had begged me to screw her from behind, I pulled up the back of her miniskirt and began to tug a small pair of panties down her butt while gently squeezing each firm cheek in my cupped palms.

She giggled and reminded me that we were to be Ellen's special guests, and implied that if events in bathroom went any further our absence at the party would be noticed. As we drove down the highway, it was hard not to marvel at Donna's exposed legs and long raven hair as it streamed behind her in the wind. I vowed that whatever food was being served at the barbeque, I would have this sexy girl for dessert.

The party was well underway when we arrived at Ellen's house. The road trip down the mesa from our housing compound had been hot and dusty, and Donna and I each downed a number of beers and shared a joint that was being passed around. Being thin in stature, Donna developed quite a buzz and when we walked back to the jeep to retrieve some steaks that we planned to grill, we paused and kissed one another until we were both panting. Later, when someone put on a county and western CD, she pulled me into a crowd of dancing people. The evening was still warm and along with everyone else we danced ourselves into a heavy sweat. Donna's thin tube top was moist and now clung tightly to every contour and feature of her upper torso. We paused for another beer, and began to talk with Sean, a guest of one of my fellow rangers who had just hopped off a plane from Ireland. Donna wanted to dance some more, but I declined and suggested that Donna find another partner. Sean immediately offered to dance with her.

Since neither Sean nor Donna appeared very adept at dancing to the selection of songs being played, they wandered off a little distance and practiced to the music by themselves without stepping on feet of nearby dancers. I thought nothing of it and went back to drinking beer with my buddies and flirting with a couple of unattached female rangers. About thirty minutes later, Donna and Sean returned to the party. His face was flushed red and her nipples stuck out like rigid bullets from beneath a sweaty and now almost transparent shirt. In the dimming light of the evening sky, I could just make out the darker forms of two areola that contrasted against damp white cotton.

Based on my own experiences with this girl, I knew that Donna was a quick turn on and needed little stimulation before succumbing to a relentless urge to fuck. Hell, we had almost done it ourselves earlier in the evening out by my jeep when retrieving the steaks. It was clear to me that she and Sean had just had sex. I wondered how to react, but decided to ignore the obvious since we were not officially dating and had made an attempt to keep our own couplings a secret from other people. But it did bother me that Donna seemed to avoid me for the remainder of the barbeque, and wondered if this was a turning point in our friendship. Later, as we drove back along the deserted state highway towards ranger housing in moonlit darkness, I asked Donna if she had learned any new dance steps from Sean. She said yes but didn't elaborate. So I asked her outright if she had indeed fucked the guy. After a long pause during which she thought about a response, she said yes and blamed it on the pot and alcohol.

Donna said that things had started out innocently enough as she and Sean attempted a few stumbling dance steps in time with the music. But as knee contacted groin, first inadvertently and then intentionally, they had embraced in a lingering and passionate French kiss. Donna said Sean pushed her against the outside of a wooden barn, had bunched the miniskirt above her waist and pulled her cotton panties to the ground. Donna said nothing about resisting Sean's advance, which caused me to think she was the likely instigator. I was astounded that they had fucked within earshot from where my friends and I were sharing beers.

Donna confessed that she had been aloof after returning to the party because she had been caught midway through this sex act by Ellen, the party's host. She had no idea how long Ellen had been watching this illicit tryst, since her eyes had closed when Sean first entered her, and when she opened them Ellen was standing there not ten feet away just staring. Donna said that with the intensity of her orgasm, she had again squeezed shut her eyes and after cumming, Ellen was gone. To make matters worse, Donna said that Sean had plucked the discarded panties out of her hands as she was attempting to slide back into them, and stuffed them into his pocket saying they would be a nice souvenir from America upon his return to Ireland. Donna had been afraid that Ellen would blab to other party guests about this discovery or that Sean would waive around her lost panties like a victory flag. Donna was quite upset and said things like this had occurred earlier in her life.