Clothing Optional

The short boat ride to the snorkeling site gave the eight couples a chance to don their fins and masks while chatting about the accommodations and activities at the idyllic resort. Last night's reception allowed them to make initial acquaintances and the atmosphere, though totally welcoming, was charged with tension; naked bodies lit by candlelight could never be mundane. Brought out of her reverie by the sound of the boat's motor reversing, Beth's gaze was drawn to the small silver barbell that pierced the left nipple of Marie, the sleek young French woman sitting on the opposite side of the boat. Somehow, she had missed seeing that adornment last night although she and Greg had spent many minutes talking with Marie and her Italian fiancé, Carlo. She had never seen such jewelry in person and the blatantly erotic nature had an instantaneous and profound effect. She hoped that her arousal couldn't be detected by the others as her skin suffused with heat. Fortunately, even Greg didn't detect the flush of her face in the bright sun.

Initially nervous about vacationing at a clothing-optional destination, Beth soon found that constant nudity erased her self-consciousness as she watched the ease with which the others went about their activities, seemingly oblivious to the "flaws" of sags, bulges and the stray wrinkle. After awhile the nakedness was seen much as a sort of clothing unto itself, barely noticed and in varied styles.

The crew consisted of the boat's captain, a mate and two in-water guides, all fit young men and all gloriously unclothed, their chocolate Caribbean skin shining under the bright blue sky. After the boat had been secured to the mooring buoy, the smiling captain turned to the group and announced, "The pool is open!"

The first and second guide along with the snorkeling party all splashed into the water with giant strides off of the side of the boat. They were moored just a few yards from the top of a huge reef. As they swam toward the coral, the view was breathtaking. Floating almost motionless, they marveled at the marine life darting in and out of the lush habitat. This beat even the best aquarium and Beth reached out to gently grasp Greg's hand as they shared the wonder of nature.

After an hour, that seemed like minutes, the captain gave a short blast on the boat's horn and they swam back to the boat, taking turns boarding the ladders at the stern. Wet but elated, everyone piled onto the boat and removed their gear while chattering about all they had seen. The crew laid out fresh fruit and everyone snacked as they made their way back to the marina.

One of the fairer-skinned of the party, Beth's nose, cheeks and ears were beginning to redden and she asked Greg to apply more sunscreen, lest she develop a burn. As he massaged the lotion into her skin, Beth glanced over to see Marie staring transfixed: her eyes unblinking and half closed. She watched Greg's strong mahogany hands massage the lotion into Beth's ivory skin, breathing through her mouth while staring unabashedly. A little self-conscious under the ravenous gaze, Beth closed her eyes and relaxed under her husband's gentle attention.

When they arrived at the marina, Maria and Carlo caught up with Greg and Beth as they walked back toward their cabana.

"After we clean up, would you like to join us for lunch?" Carlo asked.

"Sure," Greg and Beth replied in unison.

"We'll see you in a bit, after we get rid of the sand and salt," Laura added.

The shower was actually outside on the patio, shielded by bamboo walls but open above. They luxuriated in the warm water, lathering each other under the brilliant sky. Within minutes, Greg's arousal was apparent and Beth took great pleasure in stroking his thick shaft as they washed and rinsed.

Emerging from the shower and beginning to dry off, Beth looked at Greg with mock-sternness and said, "Surely, you don't plan to go to lunch like that."

Grinning broadly, Greg said, "Nope. Come here."

She walked over to him and he hugged her in his arms while whispering in her ear, "Just bend over the couch and we'll take care of this in a few minutes."

Shrieking with laughter, she pulled away. "We can't do that! I'll leave a snail trail!"

"I have a better idea. Sit down."

Greg sat on the couch and Beth knelt between his knees, one hand gently encircling his shaft. He gasped when she took him into her mouth, amazed that she could make him feel so good so fast. Her wet hair clung to her as she began working her head up and down while simultaneously milking his pre-cum into her mouth. She moaned around the hot flesh in her mouth and felt the moisture growing between her thighs. She would definitely love to feel him there but that would have to wait.

Within minutes, he growled deep in his chest and jerked his hips as he exploded. She swallowed every drop as he pulsed and flooded her mouth with his hot thick seed.

He lay there panting as she rose and winked. "Now, wasn't that much neater?"

She dried her hair and dabbed the wetness from between her legs while he regained his composure.

Walking hand-in-hand toward the restaurant, Greg said quietly, "Thank you, Baby."

"It was my pleasure," she replied with a smile. "I didn't want that French tart seeing you like that."