An Ethnic Sharing Adventure

Retired from the US Army and living our dream life in a new RV motor home, we settled into an Indian Casino RV Park near Durango, Colorado. Our plan was to take the steam train adventure between Durango and Silverton. When we met with the friendly camp host and discussed attractions and adventures they told of us a Native American Powwow in the area.

Mary, my wife, was very excited. She had been talking for several years about her desire to attend a powwow. We gathered information and she took notes. Mary is the planner and organizers. I just drive the bus and take pictures.

The next day we made the all-day trip from Durango to Silverton on the antique steam train. The scenery was breathtaking. The tracks followed along the Animas River through the San Juan Mountains crossing the river several times on rustic train trestles.

Silverton is reminiscent of a Western Movie. The businesses, mostly souvenir shops and restaurants, had facades much like the movie sets. We wandered aimlessly, taking in the sights and enjoying the beautiful day in an awe inspiring setting. I took a lot of pictures and we enjoyed a nice lunch in a saloon.

Returning along the same route was less exciting. Mary spent most of her time studying the literature she had acquired from the Durango Tourist Information Center.

We had no idea what to expect at a powwow. It was a little intimidating to notice that we were the only Caucasians. Then we became more comfortable when people were so polite with offers to help the lost-looking Caucasians. And, even more heartening was the entrance fee. There was not one!

A handsome young Indian Warrior in full dance regalia escorted us to a seat in the bleachers. There, an older Indian lady introduced herself. She and Mary hit it off right away. Marcia introduced herself as "probably the only Apache here." Her husband, Don, was Ute.

A beautiful younger lady on the next lower seats was applying paint to a young boy. The lady was beautiful. She was shocked when I asked if she was Shoshone.

"Yes," she replied. "How did you know that."

"You are beautiful. From what I have heard, Shoshone women are the prettiest of all Native Americans," I caught myself then stammered, "I'm sorry. I am embarrassed. I hope I haven't offended anyone."

"Not at all," she replied. "What woman would not be pleased by such a compliment? Thank you. I am Elizabeth. Very pleased to have you and Mary sharing our culture."

"Thank you, Elizabeth. Do you mind if I photograph you and your son?"

"Not at all," she responded, "My husband is one of the dancers too. I'm sure he would like pictures as well."

I took pictures while Beth finished the artwork on her son. Elizabeth had suggested we use her more familiar name. Just that quickly, we were best friends.

Mary and Marcia were swapping travel stories and laughing a lot. Marcia had a granddaughter who was part of the festivities. Her granddaughter ran excitedly back and forth between the floor of the coliseum and our seats.

I met Beth's husband, Robert, and he escorted me right into the middle of the happening. There were huge drums with several drummers playing what they called songs. It was just drums beating to me but their chanting could be considered songs. There was definitely a rhythm.

I was right on the coliseum floor when the parade began for the Grand Entry. The most impressive part of the contemporary powwow is the Grand Entry, the first part of any dance session. During this time, all dancers who are to compete enter the arena in specified order. I had to move back to avoid being brushed by beautiful feather decorations or being run over by dancing warriors. There were also many women dancers. I had some great photos, really close-up and some wide-angle stuff. But, I couldn't ignore the usual hisses of "Down in Front" from the audience.

I rejoined our group in the upper bleacher seats. Our new Native American friends were explaining what we were witnessing. Great Plains powwows have an overall form that is predictable and understood by all participants. Mary and I soaked in and tried to commit to memory all that we were learning about Plains Indians culture. Beth seemed impressed with our eagerness to learn. I, however; was having difficulty concentrating. Beth had a great body to go with such a pretty face.

During all the chattering, we learned that we all were staying at the Sky Ute Casino Resort in Ignacio. Our Indian friends had hotel rooms and we were in the RV Park.

Beth seemed very interested and questioned Mary and me about traveling in a motor home. She and Robert and their son attended several powwows each year, staying in hotels. The motor home could be cheaper in the long run, and definitely more convenient.

Mary invited Beth to come see ours. Perhaps she and Robert would like to join us for a light lunch and a tour of the RV? Beth accepted and we made arrangements to meet the next morning at our motor home.

We left the powwow crammed with new knowledge of American Indian culture and a sincere desire for more knowledge, especially that of the Great Plains tribes. Of course, Shoshone was most interesting to me, considering that a beautiful Shoshone lady was obviously flirting with me - I thought.

On the way home Mary queried, "Why were you so openly flirting with Beth?"

I dodged an answer, "Was I flirting?"

"Of course your were. And she was too. I don't know which of you was more obvious," Mary grinned.

"Do you mean that you think she is interested?"

Complete Silence.

Early the next morning Beth knocked on the RV door. Mary invited her in. I was taken aback by her appearance. She wore a beaded headband with her hair in braids. Her dress was a soft fawn doeskin with beautiful bead work and a turquoise and silver squash blossom necklace.

Both Mary and I were speechless. Mary managed a greeting first, "Wow, Beth, what a beautiful outfit. Is that some of your handiwork?"

"The beading is mine. Robert made the squash blossom. My mom made the dress."

It was my turn, "Wow, I thought you were beautiful yesterday. You were. But you are even more gorgeous today. I love that outfit."

Beth's boobs bounced as she climbed the steps into the RV. Even though her breasts were a bit large for going braless, she was. I didn't bother to avoid staring. It embarrassed Beth. She didn't try to hide it.

"It's my heritage outfit," Beth smiled. "We don't usually wear a bra."

"Great," I grinned and we all laughed, Mary included.

"Could I offer you something to drink," Mary remembered our manners. "It is early for wine but we have sodas or coffee. Or, would you rather see our home away from home first?. Is Robert coming?"

"He was called to the office. He is a Tribal Leader; heavily involved in all areas of reservation politics. Maybe we could arrange a rain check. A cup of coffee sounds good. I was so anxious to visit that I skipped that first cup."

We sat together at the table and Mary served the coffee. I couldn't help staring at Beth's breasts and tried to cover my interest by asking about the Turquoise Squash Blossom hanging between her large breasts and watching her nipples hardening beneath the soft doeskin.

I looked into those almond-shaped expressive eyes. They were dark brown or even black. Her dark hair framed her roundish face. It was not really an oriental round. She had much higher cheek bones and her nose was more pointed and slightly upturned. Her features were sharply defined and she stared back at me with confidence and something else. Her eyes were expressive but did not belie her thoughts. My heart was pounding.

Beth noticed the large folder on the bench next to her. It was marked simply "PHOTOS." It was filled with sexy photos I had taken of Mary over the years. Some were nude and some very explicit. We called it our "Sex Manual." Mary must have removed the label and replaced it with a less arousing title.

It hit me immediately that Mary had purposely left that folder there for Beth to see. She had to have done that before Beth arrived. I took that as approval for me to push forward with more explicit flirting. I glanced at Mary who was making more coffee. The grin on her face said it all. Go for it.

Beth picked up the photo album and laid it on the table. Before she opened it, I said, "There are some very sexy pictures in there."

Too late; Beth had opened it to the first image, a black and white picture of Mary with both tits fully exposed and her sundress draped around her waist while holding a glass of wine.

"Oh my," she exclaimed, "Mary you are beautiful. What a nice picture."

Mary just smiled. "That was nearly twenty years ago; at least fifteen. When was it, Mal?"

"We were still in the Army. That is from when Georg, the manager of the photo lab, helped us with the lighting."

"You are still gorgeous," Beth responded. "How old are you - if I may ask."

"We're a lot older now, Beth. I'm fifty-six. I think I was thirty-eight in that photo. It was a very liberal period in our lives. How old are you, Beth?"

"Just turned thirty," she said. "I was nearly sixteen when we were married. Robert is a lot older than me. He will soon be forty-four."

"Did you take these, Mal?"

"Yes, most of them. But I must warn you that they get much more explicit," I smiled.

Beth flipped the page; another black and white frontal view of Mary totally nude. And again Beth flipped and again a more explicit picture of Mary, this time with her ass turned to the camera and drops of her juices clinging to the pubic hair. On the opposite page was the same pose with her fingers in her pussy.

"This can make a girl horny," Beth giggled, nervously. "Would you consider taking pictures like this of me?"

I glanced at Mary again. She answered Beth, "He has been fantasizing about seeing you naked since he walked by you in the bleachers yesterday. Haven't you, Mal?" she chuckled.

"Do you think Robert would be okay with it? Maybe he would like to pose with you?"

"Probably, but I was thinking more about surprising him."

"Do you think he would like to fuck Mary?"

I thought that might shock her. Beth smiled, "Yes, I think he would like that. Does that mean you are going to fuck me?"

Mary stepped in, "Do you mind if I watch him fuck you?"

"Damn! This certainly moved along quickly. Maybe we could fuck then take pictures," I laughed.

Beth stood and looked at Mary. She was taller, more than two inches with a much fuller figure and a big ass to go with those boobs. My cock was absolutely rigid.

"Can we see the rest of the motor home; the bedroom maybe and a quick stop in your bathroom?"

Mary led the way. Beth stopped in the bathroom. She did not close the door. She removed her beaded headband and necklace and let the doeskin dress fall to the floor. Not only was she braless, she had no underwear at all.

Beth stood calmly, touching her breasts and squeezing the surprisingly small nipples and dark brown areola. Those dark expressive eyes stared straight into mine. They demanded my attention as she slid her hand down the soft curves of her body. They brushed the pure black pubic hair above the purple labia surrounding her wet pink inner lips. Then, with both hands she pulled the lips apart and pinched her clitoris, pinching and squeezing it like a small penis.

Then she turned her back and moved to the commode. She sat looking at me smiling as she peed, "Your turn. Show me your cock."

Mary was in the bedroom. She was naked, waiting for us. Beth held up a piece of toilet paper and grinning said, "Would you like to wipe my pussy?"