I guess I should have checked the weather before I left the cabin. It was a perfectly beautiful morning when I left. The air was fresh and clear, the sun was shining and only a few speckles of clouds here and there. What a change a few hours can make.
I was visiting the Arkansas Headwater State Park in Colorado. They boasted 40 miles of trails along the Upper Arkansas River Valley as it leads out of the Rockies. It was my first vacation on my own and I was looking forward to it. I needed to getaway from normal life for awhile so I did some research and now here I am. The past two days have been wonderful. But now.
I had planned my vacation around the rest of the tourist season for early October. I knew most folks would be getting back to their normal lives and that would give me more wide open space to myself. I did the research online about the park. I knew the weather conditions, got cabin reservations, I even went to the mall and got hiking boots and wore them for three weeks to break them in properly, increasing how far I walked each day.
I arrived at the airport in Denver and picked up my rental car. It was a three hour ride from Denver to Salida, but I enjoyed the view of the Rockies in the background, having loved the mountains ever since I was a little girl. In Salida, I stopped at the Ranger Station and checked in for my cabin. I was given several brochures about the area including an updated map. The Ranger on duty was an older man and told me that the park was pretty much vacant and that the cabin I was in was the only one occupied within 20 square miles. Perfect. No one to bother me.
I stopped at the store for some supplies and then followed the map to the cabin. Along the drive, I marveled at the sights of the evergreen trees standing majestically against the mountainous backdrop. More than once I thought of paintings I had seen and soon realized there is no way to include all the beauty found here on one canvas.
I spent the afternoon looking around the cabin area, and true to the Ranger’s word, there was not another soul to be found; a thought that put a smile on my face. I trekked down to the edge of the water and was surprised at the temperature. I had assumed it would be freezing cold and was surprised to find it cooler than on the beach in Florida, but not totally unpleasant. With the giddiness of a schoolgirl, I looked around to make sure no one was there, and quickly stripped off my clothes and waded into the water. As the cool water touched my bare skin I realized that it had been years since I had gone skinny-dipping.
I waded out until the water was chest deep and was not surprised by the nipple hardening effect of the cool water. The sensory overload of the surrounding beauty, the tall green trees, the annuals beginning to turn and the moutainscape in the near distance soon had me enjoying a very natural high. I begin to think of the pioneers who might have stopped at this very same spot, the women and men who might have stopped here to camp on a voyage to the West and its promises of gold. I began to feel aroused as I wondered how many of those rugged folks were inspired by the beauty as I was.
I soon found myself fondling my breasts and nipples ever so softly. How many men had found their women bathing such as I was in the water, removing days and weeks of trail dust from their supple bodies. My other hand reached down between my legs rubbing softly as I wondered how many women were pulled from the water only to be enjoyed by the eyes of their man. His hands wandering over her body as mine were now. These same men would take their wives back to the campsite and make gentle sweet love to them.
My hand rubbed my pussy, cooled by the water, a little stronger. I began pinching my nipple wondering how many never made it back to the campsite. How many women were pulled from the water and taken by their men on the banks of this very river. Many a hard cock must have sprouted from watching a naked woman in the water. How would a pioneer man use such an opportunity I wondered? Would he pull the woman from the water, naked, hair and body dripping with the mountain fresh liquid only to be pushed to her knees to use her mouth to please her man? On the other hand, would he find a grassy spot, shed his own clothes and climb on top to fill her pussy deep with his cock? What if he too stripped his clothes and waded in after her. Bending her slightly so he could slide up her wet pussy from behind. Letting his hands toy and play with her breasts and nipples. Both with eyes wide open watching the world stand still before them as he plunged his cock in over and over, fucking her pussy deep with each stroke. Her own hand would reach down to where his hard cock was entering her and she would find the one spot that she so enjoyed touching. Neither would talk. She would see the water swirl around as he fucked her harder and faster. And she would rub her clit enjoying the fucking her man was giving her until both succumbed to the pressures within their bodies.
I dip my head under the water to cool my head off. It had become as hot as my body and I giggled thinking that for once I wouldn’t have to clean up after pleasuring myself. I sit out until I dry and then put my clothes back on before heading back to the cabin.
I open a bottle of wine and fix myself a snack. I make a fire, even though it’s not really cold enough for one, and still feeling a bit naughty strip and curl up in front of the fire naked on the bear skin rug. Apparently the combination of my flight, drive, water sports, and the wine got the better of me because I didn’t wake until I heard the birds singing outside the cabin the next morning.
After cleaning myself up and a light breakfast and coffee, I adjourn to the porch to rock in the swing. I look at the water across the way and my nipples harden remembering the intense orgasmic pleasure I had stirred up the day before. I was entertaining the thought of another visit to the water when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
“Good morning, Ma’am,” the Park Ranger welcomes from atop his horse.
“Hi ya,” I respond.
“Phil said we had a visitor in the cabins and I just wanted to stop by and make sure everything was going okay.”
“Couldn’t be better,” I reply lying through my teeth. This guy needed to dismount his steed and mount me instead. Damn he looked good. Sitting so straight and proper in the saddle of a most beautiful reddish-brown trail horse. His uniform looked to be painted on with a tan shirt over green pants tucked into his riding boots. On top of his head was a traditional cowboy style hat protecting the top of his head and out of place Gargoyles protecting his eyes.
“I came through yesterday afternoon but didn’t see anyone around, ‘bout three thirty, I think,” he tells me.
I know I have a blank look on my face as I try to figure out what time it was when I was out splashing in the water.
“Must have been when I was taking a walk,” I tell him trying to recover. “Can I offer you a cup of coffee of something cold to drink.”
“You know I should be getting on down the trail,” he starts, “ aw, what the hell. There’s probably no body here ‘cept you and me anyway.”
The Ranger climbs off his horse and I suddenly realize he is quite tall on his own. The hat and glasses come off and I get the first glimpse of his hazel eyes.
I bring a pot of coffee and another cup out to the porch and then set back on the swing. The Ranger sets on one of the chairs that he has turned around backwards.