Nude in St. Barths

My first four stories have been presented in chronological order. This one skips ahead about a year, but I felt I had to write it now. I was a pro domme, and Peter had been my sub, but our relationship had grown more complicated over time.

Peter and I had been fucking and sessioning for a while, and the line between the two was blurring. Whatever it was we were doing, I felt bad about charging him money, so I stopped. Peter, though, felt uncomfortable about not paying, so he suggested that we put the money towards a vacation in St. Barths. It would just be the two of us. I thought that would be nice.

I'd never been to the Caribbean; in fact, I'd never been out of the country. I was psyched to hang out on the beach, eat French food and generally loll around for a week doing nothing. Oh, and there'd be fucking.

Peter rented a two-bedroom villa right on the beach in St. Jean. Normally, it was ridiculously expensive, but we were going at the beginning of the low season, in late April. Peter said it would be much cheaper, less crowded and with fewer Americans. That sounded good to me.

I packed light — a couple of t-shirts and some jean shorts. I also packed a couple of bikini tops and a few form-fitting board shorts for the beach.

When we took the cab to JFK, it was cold and raining. But four and a half hours later, we were sweating on the tarmac of St. Maarten. From there, it was a ten-minute flight to St. Barths in a tiny plane that only sat eight. We found our luggage and got in the line for customs.

Maybe it was my brand new passport, or the fact that I was a short Korean girl traveling with a tall blond guy twenty years my elder, but something aroused the suspicion of the custom officials. The two older women elected to search my backpack and found nothing. But when they opened up my suitcase, they found dildos, harnesses, vibrators and lube. They seemed confused by the dildos, so I smacked Peter's ass and gave it a big squeeze. Now the ladies understood, and they smiled mischievously at us.

This was going to be a good vacation. We'd just landed, and we'd already been busted for ass-fucking by the authorities.

We grabbed our rental car — a Suzuki Samurai — and drove to the villa. It was adorable, with a small pool and a view of the beach and the bay. We unpacked, took a quick shower and decided to head out and get supplies. We took the top off the car to get some sun and drove off.

Peter had switched into a linen shirt and loose board shorts, and I had on a t-shirt and jean shorts. In the hot Caribbean sun, that was a mistake. I was already sweating through my shirt. I told Peter this was all I'd packed, and he said we should go to Gustavia — the main town — to get me some clothes.

We parked outside a dress shop. I wasn't normally a dress girl, but sundresses were the standard fare down here. That, and wraps. I found two cute short sundresses, with buttons running all the way down the front. I tried one on in the changing room and stepped out to find a mirror. I wasn't wearing a bra — I'm only a B cup — and I don't wear panties with jeans. So I was nude underneath the sundress, but at least I felt cool.

Peter, in the meantime, found a tiny bikini which he handed me to try on. I'm not a girly-girl in New York, but I was on vacation now — so why not? I tried on the bikini top — it fit pretty well. But the bottom only covered about a third of my ass. To me, it felt like wearing nothing.

I stepped out of the dressing room and saw another couple had walked into the store. As I checked myself out in the mirror, I could see that the man was checking me out as well. I adjusted the bikini bottom, pretending to check the fit. But I was really just putting on a little show for my admirer. I rolled the back down halfway, and then rolled it back up. I made sure his eyes were on me, and then rolled down the front, exposing my bald pussy. I waited a few seconds, then rolled them backup.

Peter came over.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Making friends," I said, with a smile.

I went back to the dressing room and put on a sundress. I was feeling flirtatious and naughty. This was not the normal me, but New York City was thousands of miles away. I decided to have some fun. I unbuttoned the top few buttons on the dress. My tits were still covered, but if I leaned forward, everyone would get a good view.

I went to the cashier to pay, but Peter already had his credit card out. He'd also found a wrap for me to wear with the bikini. He paid, and we headed off to the grocery store.

It was freezing in there, and I felt my nipples go hard. We grabbed a cart and started with the fruits and vegetables. As I reached over to grab a melon, the dress strap fell off my shoulder and down my arm. I had enough buttons still buttoned, so the dress didn't completely expose my tit. I had to fix that. I unbuttoned another button.

Peter was smiling. He was a big-time exhibitionist, but I'd never done something like this before.

We went over to the meat section, but there a family there. We got what we needed, and moved down to the wines. A couple of guys were there, inspecting labels, so I reached down to get a bottle from the bottom shelf. The strap fell down, and my left breast fell out.

"Oops," I said, standing up.

I stood there for a second with my breast exposed. Then I slowly grabbed it and stuffed it back in the dress.

"So sorry," I said, and kept walking.

We paid for our groceries and drove back to the villa.

"There are topless beaches down here, right?" I asked.

"They're all topless," said Peter, "and Grande Saline is nude, too."

"Then I'm confused," I said. "When I flashed those guys my tit, they really stared. I'd think they'd be used to the sight by now."

"I think it's context," said Peter. "At the beach, it's just normal. But in the store, you're supposed to be clothed. When you flashed your tit, you were asking them to look at it, to consider it sexually. You were being sexual with them."

That made sense.

"Which, I should add, I find immensely arousing," he said. "I love that you want to expose yourself."

We got back to the villa and unpacked. We grabbed towels and a couple of beers and headed out to the pool to get some sun. From the chaise lounge, I could see a portion of the beach, about twenty feet away, and the bay. We were semi-secluded, but anyone walking down to this end of the beach could see us.

"Do you want your bikini?" asked Peter, taking off his shirt.

"No. I'm good," I said.

I unbuttoned the sundress some more and pulled it over my head. I stood there in the nude and watched the beach. No one was looking at me, but it still felt good to be without clothes outdoors.

"You sure about this?" asked Peter.

"I'm on private property," I said, "so it seems like it should be legal."

I laid down on the towel. Through my sunglasses, I saw a group of guys walking down the beach towards us, checking out girls as they went. I spread my legs slightly. When they got to our villa, they stopped. I put my hands on my stomach and slowly moved them down to pussy. I had their attention now. I spread my legs and pulled my pussy lips apart. I wanted to show them the inside of my pussy.

They said something in French and gave us the thumb's up sign.

"What was that?" I asked.

"They said I was lucky to have a sexy nude woman at my side," he responded.

"Really?"

So they liked the show. That made me feel good.

We sunned ourselves for about an hour. Peter is very fair, and was starting to turn pink. We decided to call it a day.

"Let's jump in the pool," I said, "but take your shorts off first. Be nude with me."

Peter stood up, looked around and dropped his shorts. I stood up and hugged him. No one was looking at us, but it still felt good. I felt Peter's cock begin to stir.

"I'd like to suck you off, but I think that would be pushing it," I said.

"It would be," he said.

So we jumped in the pool.

Once we'd cooled down, we went inside and showered. It was time for dinner. I put the sundress back on, and felt a little sad about having to wear clothes. I consoled myself by buttoning the minimum number of buttons I needed to keep the dress from falling off. Then I unbuttoned several buttons from the bottom of the dress, creating a slit up the middle. I was now exposing as much of myself as I could without getting arrested.

We drove back to Gustavia to a restaurant called Eddy's. It was an open-air place, tucked into a garden. We had a dinner of fish, lentils, chayotes and a tomato salad, washed down with a bottle of French wine.

The waiter was a cute young French kid. I made sure to lean in whenever he came by, so he could see my tits. He came by a lot.

We paid and walked down a couple of blocks a bar called Le Select. It was the oldest bar in St. Barth, and a bit of a dive — in a good way. We got a couple of beers and sat down at a table on their terrace.

"So when did this exhibitionist streak arise?" asked Peter.

"Honestly, just today," I said. "There's something about this place that makes we want to have people look at me. The people down here are so good-looking, and there's real sexual vibe to this place — like everyone goes home and has great sex every night."

I spied a table of guys across the terrace. I positioned my chair so I my legs were pointing right at them. Then I slowly unbuttoned the bottom of my dress even further, almost to the waist. They had stopped talking and were watching me. Then I spread my legs. The dress fell off my legs, exposing my pussy. I made eye contact with the guys, and slowly closed my legs.

They raised their bottles, and I smiled. One guy picked up his cell phone, and pointed it towards me. I figured there was no harm, so I spread my legs again, moving my hands down to pull my pussy lips apart. The flash went off several times, and I closed my legs.

I looked over at Peter.

"I'm horny," I said. "Would you fuck me?"

"Since you asked nicely," said Peter.

We walked through the terrace towards the bar. Halfway there, I turned to face the table. The bar was to my back so I was safe. I unbuttoned the remaining buttons and opened my dress. I closed my eyes but I could feel the flash go off. I closed my dress, but did not button anything. I smiled at the guys, turned around and walked out of Le Select, holding my dress closed with my hand.

The street was empty except for a couple making out across the way. I put my hand down, and my dress opened up.

"Aren't you pushing it?" asked Peter.

"No," I said. "This is pushing it."

I let the straps fall off my shoulders, and the dress fell to the ground. I picked it up, folded it, and handed it to Peter.

I was now walking the down the street completely nude. It was late, but not that late. I heard a car behind us, and then we were in its headlights. I knew that whoever was in that car could see my naked ass. I kept walking.

The car pulled up and slowed down. Inside were two couples.

"Ask them if they like what they see," I said.

Peter spoke to them in French, and one of the woman responded.

"She's says you are very pretty, and have a beautiful ass," Peter said.

"Merci!" I said.

We walked back to the car and drove back to the villa. I stayed naked, letting the cool wind wash over my body. I reached into Peter's shorts and played with his cock. When we got back to the villa, we fucked by the pool.

The next day, Peter woke up before me and went out to get bread. I made coffee and sat down by the pool. It was a little chilly, but felt good. When Peter got back, I made him some eggs. We ate breakfast and talks about what to do that day.

"I want to go that nude beach," I said. "I don't want to put on clothes."

We packed some towels and water and headed out. There was few cars on the road, but they honked when they saw me. I assume they thought I was just topless, but I could deal with that. We got to the parking lot for the beach. There were already a few cars there, and another one followed us in.

I got out of the car and grabbed my bag. A couple got out of the other car, and waved. They were in shorts and t-shirts.

"Traditionally, people wait until they're actually on the beach before disrobing," said Peter.

"They're going to see my naked anyway," I said. "Why wait?"

But Peter was right — it was about context. Walking nude onto the beach caught people's attention — it said please look at me. It said I want to expose myself to you, I want you to watch.

The beach was huge and we had no problem finding a space for ourselves. Virtually all of the women were topless, and about a fifth of people were nude.

I sat down on my towel, and Peter pulled off his shirt. I started to undo his shorts.

"I can do that," he said.


"But I want to," I responded.

Unlacing his board shorts also gave me a chance to play with his cock. I wanted him to be at least semi-erect when I put him on display.

We laid down on the towel and soaked in the sun. I spread my legs — we had put sunscreen everywhere — and read a magazine. If I saw people come over, I'd pretended to stretch so I could graze my pussy with my hand. Sometimes, I'd rub my clit in a nonchalant way, as if I'd forgotten I wasn't at home.

When it got close to lunchtime, I rolled over on my side and put my hand on Peter's chest.

"I'm getting hungry," I said.

My hand moved down to Peter's cock. I flipped it on his stomach, and massaged his balls. His cock began to grow.

"We should go," he said, "before you get me in trouble."

"No fucking on the nude beach?" I asked. "Not even a hand job?"

I leaned over and frenched Peter. That did it. He was hard now.

"You have an audience," I said.

He looked over to see three couples. The women were grouped together and were lying on their stomachs, looking at us.

I sat up and spat on Peter's cock. Without lube, this would have to do. I checked in on the girls. They were still watching. I spat on Peter's cock again. I picked up the pace.


"You're so lucky," I said. "People are going to watch you cum. No one's seen me cum yet, except for you. And you don't count."

Peter's ball sac had tightened, so I knew he was close to cumming.

"Please cum," I said. "Cum in front of those girls."

His hips bucked and he shot his load into my hand.

I looked over at the girls and licked my hand. At least they would see me eat his cum.

They clapped, and I took a mini-bow. Then Peter and I walked into the water to clean ourselves up. When we got out, the three girls came over. They had cute breasts, but they had kept their bottoms on.

"Thank for the show," one of them said, speaking with a German accent.

"Thank you for watching," I said.

"You're a lovely girl, and your boyfriend has a beautiful cock," she said.

"Thank you," I said. "I like it. You can touch it, if you like."

The girls looked over their shoulders, but they're boyfriends weren't watching. They each grabbed his cock and gave it a little pull.

"You can touch me, too," I said.

They laughed, but one girl stepped forward, licked her finger and slid it up my pussy. I thought they might grab my breasts, but this was better. I grabbed the girl's wrist.

"Please," I said, "just a few seconds more. Enough to turn me on. Please."

I released my grip. The girl kept her finger inside of me, and moved it around me, searching for my g-spot. I moaned.

The girl pulled her finger out of me.

"Thank you," I said, "thank you for turning me on. I need to go and get fucked now."

The girls ran off, and Peter and I walked to the parking lot. He wanted to put his shorts back on, but I ordered him to stay naked. We got back in the car and drove off. I played with myself until we got home, and then we walked into the villa, still nude, and fucked. Technically, we fucked, then I ass-fucked Peter, then he got me off again with a vibrator. And then he fucked me in the ass. But you get the point.

We made sandwiches for lunch, and took a nap. After that, it was time for some skinny-dipping. Unfortunately, no one but Peter could see my naked in the pool, so it wasn't as satisfying. I toweled off and laid out on chaise lounge. Peter went inside to work on his computer.

Occasionally, I would get up and walk around the pool. Usually, there weren't people down on this end of the beach, but when there were, they would see everything. If they were nice, I'd put a little show on for them, squeezing my tits and shaking my ass.

I was starting to sweat, so I went in to cool off. It was getting close to dinner, and I hadn't worn a thing all day. Sadly, that would have to end. I put the sundress back on —minimally buttoned — so we could go to the other side of the island for lobster.

The restaurant was called La Langouste, and it was located a short walk from the beach in Flamands. We had a wonderful dinner of spicy lobster, a huge, clawless variety, and champagne. Our bellies full, we drove back through Gustavia, stopping at Le Select.

We were met by smiles at the bar, and I saw why. Behind me was a bulletin board on which were business cards from customers over the years. It was an impressive collection, and seemed to come from every corner of the globe. Also stuck to the board was a photograph of me — eyes closed, smiling, dress flung open and legs spread. One of my flashees from the night before had printed it out and stuck it there.

"There you are," said Peter, "for everyone to see."

"I think it's great," I said.

I looked around at the crowd in the bar. It wasn't a large bar, and it wasn't packed — this was Monday night — so I'd say there were about twenty-five people, mostly men. But each one of them had seen me naked, and when I looked at them, I could see in it their eyes.

Peter ordered a couple of Heinekens.


"This is you girlfriend?" asked the bartender.

"Yes," said Peter, "the one in the photo."

"She likes to take off her clothes?" he asked.

Peter looked at me.

"Yes, I do," I said.

"I'll make you a deal," he said. "She can drink for free tonight if she is naked for one hour."

"Well, I wouldn't want to get in trouble ..." I said.

"You won't get in trouble," said the customer to my left.

"I need to be sure of that," I said. "It wouldn't be fun to get arrested on vacation."

"You won't get in trouble," said the man. "I'm the chief of police."

"I like that," I said, "but I think I want a better deal."

I reached down and undid a button. I leaned forward so a strap fell off my shoulder, exposing one of my breasts. I wanted to give them a taste.

"I think my boyfriend should drink for free, too," I said. "Beer only, no hard liquor. And I'll be nude whenever you want me to be. All night. Or ... I could stop."

I put my breast back in my dress.


"Two Heineken," said the bartender, "on the house."

I stepped back from the bar so they could get a better look. I unbuttoned all the buttons, and let the straps fall off my shoulders and down my arms. Once again, I was nude.

I folded my dress and handed it to Peter. He was shaking his head.


"Don't complain," I said, "I just bought you a night's worth of beer."

"I'm not complaining," he said. "I love that you can do this and enjoy it."

I sat down at the bar and introduced myself to Eric, the bartender, and Guillaume, the chief of police. He even showed me his badge. And Eric explained that I wasn't the first woman to get naked at Le Select. A few years ago, he had dared an Australian woman to get naked for an hour in exchange for free drinks and she'd done it. So that became the standard bet. But no one had taken him up on it since then.

We ordered another round, and I put my arm around Guillaume. I was acting friendly, but what I really wanted to do was press a breast into his arm. I wanted to tease him. I gave him a peck on the cheek and squeezed his right hand, pulling it over so it grazed my left leg.