DAY 1: Launch

As we stood at the launch point at Lee’s Ferry, ready to begin our seven day rafting adventure down the Colorado River and through the heart of the Grand Canyon, I surveyed the group we’d be spending the next week with. There was of course my wife, Ady (short for Adrienne), who was looking both incredibly beautiful and very apprehensive. While I’d grown up rafting, hiking, fishing, camping, she’d never really done any of those things. It was only the enthusiasm of our other friends, Lori in particular, that had eventually persuaded her to agree to this trip. We had come with two other couples who were close friends of ours, Jason and Allyson and John and Lori. Both couples lived near us and had kids similar to ours in age. Five out of the six of us (everyone but Ady) had either recently turned 40 or would within the next year, and this trip was how we chose to celebrate. None of us had ever been away from our kids for this long and it had been a long time since any of us had attempted a vacation this ambitious.

We were part of a larger group of 10 couples who would be split among two rafts, with two river guides on each. We had agreed that if we were going to do this without our own kids, we didn’t want to be around anyone else’s either. The package we eventually signed up for was billed as a “couples only” trek, geared for people who were in reasonably good shape and capable of long hikes, canyoneering, and other more advanced outdoorsy activity. As I surveyed the people around us, it became clear that we were actually on the older side. Most people looked to be in their 20s or, at most, early 30s, though there was one couple that was clearly older, probably late 40s.

The four guides were all very young, college age or thereabouts. And in keeping with the theme of the trip, they too were “couples” – one man, one woman per boat – though I doubted they were actually romantically involved. They all wore khaki colored button up shirts with short sleeves, with the tour company logo on the front. It made them all look a little like scout leaders. As we gathered by the two rafts, one of the guides, a guy with long black hair and scruffy facial hair who looked like the lead singer of a 90s grunge band, addressed the group.

“Hi everyone, my name is Arlo,” he spoke in a very calm, friendly voice, “I’m going to be one of your guides on this adventure. This here is Samantha.” He motioned toward the short, red-haired guide standing to his right. “But you can call her Sam. She’s my copilot and is also one helluva good camp cook. You’re lucky to have her on this trip.” Sam was strikingly pretty in a pixie-ish sort of way, very petite and fit looking. She waved and smiled.

Arlo continued, “and this big guy over here is Tom. He’ll be captaining the other raft.” He motioned toward a tall, well-muscled man with wavy brown hair and a beard. The guy reminded me of Magnum PI. “Tom is from New Zealand and can teach you all sorts of cool Kiwi phrases.”

“Right you are,” Tom said with a very pronounced Kiwi accent and a broad smile.

“And to Tom’s right is Serena, who, in addition to being an experienced river guide, is a world class rock-climber and canyoneering expert. She’ll be leading most of the side excursions.” Serena, who I would later learn was of Filipino descent, took a step forward and waved to the group. She too was very attractive, with darkish skin and long black hair pulled back in a tight pony tail. All four of the guides looked to be in incredible physical shape.

Arlo continued, “we’ve got a whole bunch of rules and safety tips to go over before we actually get on the rafts, but before we get into all of that, there’s one thing I want say to the whole group. This is a long trip and it’s one without a lot of privacy. I know. I’ve done it dozens of times now. We’re going to be sleeping out under the stars, bathing in the river, and generally spending a whole lot of time in close proximity to one another, whether it’s on the rafts, in camp, or on the various side hikes we’ll be doing. You’re going to get to know the people around you very well before this is done, and that’s great. This is a helluva bonding experience. But it’s hot out there this time of year. And there are no walls. No changing rooms. No showers or baths. And with no kids around, I think you’ll soon find that modesty is one of the first things to go. I’d encourage you to embrace that and not let it bother you. We’re all adults here. We know what adult bodies look like. And you’ll have a better time if you’re not too self-conscious all the time.”

I glanced briefly at Ady. She looked even more apprehensive than she had before. She wasn’t a shy person. In fact, she was very outgoing. But she had never been the type to dress in skimpy clothes or show much skin. This trip was going to be a real test for her.

It was late July, so by mid-morning, it was already roasting hot out on the river and most of us had peeled off several layers of clothes. The women had generally stripped down to tank tops, and in some cases, bikini tops. Among the latter group was Allyson, who had, over the past few years, become one of Ady’s closest friends. Ady and Allyson had very similar figures. Both were about 5’4” and very slender and fit. But where Ady was naturally olive-skinned, with long curly brown hair, Allyson had milky white skin and jet black hair, which she had pulled back into twin pigtails, like a schoolgirl, a look I’d never seen from her before. She, like Ady, was very attractive and could pass for much younger than her actual age. She was wearing a bright blue bikini top that showed plenty of cleavage (her breasts were quite a bit bigger than Ady’s). As she was sitting right in front of me on the raft, it took considerable effort not to get caught staring at her chest, even with the remarkable scenery all around me.

The rafts were large pontoon style boats with a motor in back that was manned at all times by one of the guides, so there was no need for us to paddle or otherwise assist in the navigation of the rapids. We sat along the pontoons on either side. Lori, John’s wife, was on the opposite side of the raft from me. She, like Ady, had not yet stripped down to her bathing suit, though it was visible underneath her white tank top. We called her “Kelly Ripa” behind her back because, in addition to the physical resemblance, she was an energizer bunny of woman, the kind of person who ran eight miles a day and somehow had enough time and energy leftover to be in everyone’s business all the time. She, of course, had been the one who came up with the idea of doing this trip and had then browbeat all the rest of us into coming along. But as annoying as I sometimes found her, I had to give her this much; she too was a very good looking woman who kept herself in fantastic physical shape. She had her straight blond hair tied back in a neat braid, and she was wearing a tiny pair of jogging shorts that showed off every possible inch of her well-toned legs.

NIGHT 1: Open Sky

By the time we pulled the rafts onto the bank to make camp for the night, any apprehension I’d had about the trip was gone. Between the beauty of the river and the canyon, on the one hand, and the women around me, on the other, I was almost euphoric. It was the perfect antidote to the daily grind, the tedious routine of work and family life. I felt more alive than I had in a very long time.

And I could tell that Ady was in a similarly euphoric mood. It took her a while to loosen up, but by mid afternoon, when an intense water gun fight had broken out between the two rafts in the middle of the river, Ady had been one of the more aggressive and vocal combatants, all the while wearing nothing but her bikini top and shorts. I hadn’t seen her so loose and carefree in a long time.

But that was out on the river. As we walked along the bank, looking for a place to set up our cots for the night, I could see some of her earlier apprehension returning. She’d never really been camping before, much less slept outside under the open sky. But it was a beautiful, warm night and there were no mosquitos or any other kind of biting bugs in the canyon to worry about. We eventually found a spot in the sand with some bushes on either side that provided some small buffer between us and others couples’ cots.

As I lay there on my cot, much later that night, staring up at the beautiful starry sky, I suddenly found myself with a powerful erection. It was as if all of the images of beautiful, bikini-clad women from earlier in the day suddenly caught up with me all at once. And then it dawned on me just how difficult it was going to be to have any sex on this trip. Truth be told, I had wondered about this very question for months prior to the trip, but it had been hard for me to picture exactly what the sleeping situation would be like. But now that I was here, and saw what it was actually like, the logistics seemed daunting. There was just very little physical separation between us and the various couples in our vicinity. And between the light of the stars and the crescent moon overhead, there was enough visibility to at least make out the silhouettes of the people a few cots over. And even if it were darker, there were still the sounds to worry about. While the flow of the river provided some amount of background white noise, it wasn’t enough to drown out the creaking of cots whenever anyone nearby moved.

Getting Ady to fool around under these conditions was going to be hard. But I wasn’t about to give up. My erection would just have to wait. With that thought, I closed my eyes and eventually fell asleep.

At one point, in the middle of the night, I awoke to what I thought were giggles and the creaking of cots somewhere in the camp. But the sounds were faint and the source not particularly close to us. I tried to listen for a bit but eventually gave up and went back to sleep.

DAY 2: Birthday Suits

The next morning, I awoke near the crack of dawn, badly needing to urinate. We had been told it was okay to pee directly into the river (that doing so was actually preferred by the park service, for sanitary reasons, to peeing in the bushes), so I stumbled down to a portion of the bank away from any cots and let loose. As I was peeing, I began to wake up a little more and suddenly realized that two people were standing knee high in the water about 30 feet upstream. It was a man and woman, and I immediately noticed that both were naked. They were both bent over and splashing the cold river water over themselves, clearly attempting to bathe as best they could under the circumstances. It took me a moment to recognize that the man was Arlo and the woman was his fellow guide, Sam. Sam looked absolutely stunning in the dawn light, water glistening on her small, firm breasts and tight little ass.

Before I really had time to process what I was seeing, both of them had glanced over in my direction and casually waved at me, neither showing even the slightest self-consciousness about being seen naked or concern that my cock was hanging out in full view. I waved back awkwardly as I used my other hand to finish peeing and pull up my shorts. Arlo really wasn’t kidding about modesty being the first thing to go. They’d clearly done this trip dozens of times and just didn’t give a shit anymore. I wondered if the rest of us would be like that by the end of the week.

After breakfast, we set out again on the river and soon hit our first major rapids of the day, House Rock Rapids. It was the biggest one we’d hit so far on the trip, a seven on the canyon’s ten point scale, and was exhilarating to go through.

By late morning, we stopped to make a short hike up a narrow side canyon called North Canyon. While the canyon walls were very narrow, the sun happened to be directly above us, so there was little shade to be had the entire hike. By the time we arrived at our destination, a beautiful reflecting pool fed by a small creek, we were all sweaty and hot. I was staring up at the canyon walls, snapping a few pictures, when I heard the first splash. I looked around to see that both Arlo and Tom, our intrepid captains, had jumped into the pool to cool off. Both were shirtless, having apparently stripped down before jumping in. The reflecting pool wasn’t particularly large, just big enough for a handful of people to dunk themselves in at any one time. As Tom pulled himself out, he said “come on, folks, don’t be shy. You’re gonna want to take a dunk in here before we hike back down in that sun.”

“Easy for you to say,” replied a woman named Kara, with curly blonde hair, who I’d met briefly the night before, “not all of us can just take off our shirts.”

“Nonsense,” countered Tom, “we’re all adults here. Sam, Serena, am I right?” As he said this, both Sam and Serena were in the process of stripping down. Serena was wearing a bikini underneath her shorts and guide shirt, but it soon became apparent that Sam was not. Under her shorts, she was wearing just panties, and when she unbuttoned her guide shirt, the sight of her bare breasts left most of the group stunned. I personally would have been floored had I not already seen her naked just hours earlier. Ady squeezed my arm and I could sense the “oh my god” reaction she was having.

But before long, almost everyone, man and woman alike, was stripping down and dunking themselves in the pool. Ady, Lori, and Allyson all had the foresight to wear their bathing suits under their clothes, but several of the other women did not. Two of them chose to jump in with just their bras and panties on, and I couldn’t help myself from staring at their water-soaked, see-through garments as they emerged from the pool. One woman with very short brown hair and a pierced nose – who I later learned was named Amy – stripped down completely naked before jumping in and didn’t seem the slightest bit shy about it. She was very tan all over, with no obvious tan lines, so I figured this was not her first time going au naturale. Her breasts were full and round, a real sight to behold.

I was one of the last to jump in and as I was treading water in the pool, I watched as Kara, the curly blonde who’d asked Tom the question, quickly pulled off her tank top and hopped in. She, like Sam, had no bra or bikini on under her shirt, which explained her initial reluctance. And I could tell that, unlike Amy or Sam, she was very self-conscious about being naked, which was why she had waited until almost everyone had already headed back down the trail. But she had no reason to be embarrassed. She had a nice body; her breasts, like Ady’s, were on the small side, but not everyone could have Allyson’s breasts. I smiled at her while trying not to look like I was ogling her naked body. On my way out of the pool, I tried to hide my semi-erection.

On the hike back down to the rafts, with images of beautiful, naked women still dancing through my mind, I wondered again how and if I would ever get any intimate time with Ady on this trip.

I needn’t have worried.

NIGHT 2: Moaning in the Night

That night was one I won’t soon forget. At some point during dinner, a bank of clouds rolled in. I didn’t think much of it at the time, as I was busy chatting and getting to know the various people in our group. Most of us sat around a collection of electric lanterns in the common area of the camp until well after dinner, drinking alcohol and laughing and telling stories. It wasn’t until Ady and I wandered off to brush our teeth and use the bathroom (there were two camp toilets set up in strategic locations around the campsite) that I realized just how dark it had become. Between the high canyon walls and the cloud cover, there was absolutely no natural light. With my flashlight off, I couldn’t see my own hand in front of me.

Twenty minutes later, virtually everyone, including us, had made their way to their cots and the camp had grown quiet. I was starting to doze off when I heard it. It was the sound of a cot nearby creaking with a consistent rhythm. I focused on the sound. It continued, for much too long to be someone merely tossing and turning. We soon got confirmation of our suspicions in the form of a woman moaning. There was no question that a couple was having sex, and they couldn’t have been more than 20 feet from us. Ady rolled over onto her side, touched my arm, and whispered “oh my god” into my ear.

“I know,” was all I said back, as I reached inside my sleeping bag and grasped my rapidly growing cock. The sounds grew louder and the moans and vocalizations more frequent. I couldn’t tell from the voice who the woman was, other than it wasn’t Lori or Allyson. But whoever it was was building toward a spectacular orgasm, and it was enormously arousing to listen to. I couldn’t help but stroke my cock.

I wasn’t doing it for long when I felt the top of my sleeping back being pulled down. Ady’s hand grabbed ahold of my cock and took over. Moments later, the woman belted out “oh god, oh god, oh god” before trailing off, clearly in the throes of an orgasm. Ady stopped stroking my cock to listen, whispering “holy shit” in my ear. “Who do you think that was?” she finally asked.

“No idea,” I whispered back, trying to hide my disappointment that it was over. But no sooner had the sounds of the mystery couple died down than more sounds began, this time on the other side of us. More creaking of cots. More heavy breathing. And then there was more noise, coming from a wholly different direction. Over the next few minutes, sounds of sex slowly emerged from all over the camp. It was as if everyone had, all at once, realized the kind anonymity the cloudless sky provided and was determined to make the most of the opportunity.

Ady and I were no different. I felt her climb onto my cot. She must have taken her shorts and panties off while we were listening because, as soon as she was straddling me, I felt her guide my cock into her already very wet pussy. She gasped audibly as I entered her and within seconds was rocking up and down on my cock and kissing me furiously, our cot creaking loudly with every movement. After a few minutes, she began to moan and sigh loudly. I sat up and gently lifted off her tank top, followed by my own shirt. It was so dark that I still couldn’t really see anything. But we were now completely naked, our sweaty bodies sliding against each other in the warm pitch black night, and all around us were the sounds of other couples having sex. It was completely intoxicating and surreal.

At one point it dawned on me that Jason and Allyson, who had set up their cots less than ten feet to our right, were making loud slapping sounds. While I couldn’t see them, I pictured Allyson getting fucked doggy-style and it was almost too much too take. The sounds were so loud throughout the camp that I was pretty certain every couple there was engaged in some kind of sexual act. It was like a Roman orgy in the dark.

Ady was clearly incredibly turned on by the whole experience. She was never the most vocal lover, usually only making any real noise toward the very end, as she neared climax. But this was different. She was moaning and sighing loudly from the beginning, with an occasion “oh god” thrown in for good measure. Eventually, she seemed to completely lose control and started bucking her hips frantically. When she finally came, she nearly screamed. And the funny thing was, her scream barely stood out amidst the sounds everyone else was making around us.

Once she was done, I flipped us over until I was on top of her and drove my cock into her hard and fast until I came as well. For a quite a while thereafter, we just lay there, panting and catching our breath as we listened to the sounds of people coming all around us. I was particularly focused on Allyson’s voice, which was close by and easy to recognize. When she finally came, she squealed “oh god, I’m coming, Jase,” and I suddenly felt my erection return. Ady felt it too, and she responded by rolling over onto her side, facing away from me and sticking her ass out toward me. Within seconds, I had turned on my side and my cock was back inside her, my chest pressed against her sweaty back and my arm wrapped around her, fondling her breasts.