I’ve always led a conventional life when it comes to women. I’ve had girlfriends, sure, but two at once? That’s the stuff of fantasy — what happens to guys with magnetic personalities, or maybe a lot of money. So how did it happen that I was on vacation in a Caribbean resort, in one bed with two beauties?
The origin of my story began innocently enough. My girlfriend Melissa and I (I’m Brad) had signed up to travel to Martinique with her best friend Lisa and her boyfriend Bill. The girls had been college roommates, and remained close, so the four of us did a lot of stuff together. However, Lisa and Bill had a volatile relationship. They’d broken up and gotten back together many times. But no one countered on an epic fight, which ended their relationship just days before the planned trip. While Lisa could cancel the hotel room, it was too late to get a refund on the plane fare. Melissa convinced her to come with us anyway, to clear her mind of that miserable ex-boyfriend. She would stay in our room.
I was a little dubious about the arrangement. ‘Two’s company, three’s a crowd,’ as the old saying goes. And, frankly, I feared it might dampen Melissa and my sex life. But I liked Lisa and didn’t want to say no. And Lisa is very pretty, tall with blonde hair, well-proportioned breasts and a muscular, curvaceous behind (my favorite.) Even if I had less sex, there’d be plenty to look at.
The resort hotel room was large, with a single king size bed. It had a small sitting area in one corner, with chairs, a table and a lounge. But it was open, with clear sight lines. No privacy. Lisa said she’d sleep on the lounge.
It was hot and sunny when we arrived and the girls wanted to hit the beach. Lisa changed into her bikini in the bathroom, and we all headed down. Now, Martinique is a former French colony, and still influenced by it. As is normal in France, women sunbath topless.
We arranged ourselves on blankets on the white sand. The women around us were topless, and those few who retained their tops were conspicuous — that is to say, conspicuous as American tourists. I certainly enjoyed the view of the French ladies, apparently a little too obviously.
“Are you getting your fill?” Melissa asked me, with a little mock reproach.
“Am I supposed to wear a blindfold?” I answered. “You and Lisa are the odd ones out. When in Rome…” I smiled at her.
“He’s right,” said Lisa. “We don’t know a soul here. I’ve never done anything like this before, but if there were ever a time, this would be it.”
“You’re ok with exposing yourself?” asked Melissa.
“Sure, let’s do it. Be brave. On the count of three…”
And on three, she removed her top. She had lovely breasts, firm and full. I was pleased to confirm that her beauty was all I had imagined. She opened a tube of suntan lotion, and generously massaged some onto those mounds that hadn’t seen sunlight before.
“Well, ok,” Melissa said. “But no photos,” she directed a look at me.
With that, she removed her top. Those were breasts I was familiar with, but there was an excitement at seeing her display herself in public. I offered to apply the suntan lotion, but her scowl told me she wasn’t going to let me grope her in public.
We lay back and absorbed the hot sun. We went in the water, and I loved how their freed breasts floated and bobbed as waves gently swept over us. And in truth, so did they.
“It’s so liberating to feel the cool water over my chest,” said Melissa. “It’s different than when you’re wearing a bikini.”
“I love it too,” said Lisa. “The thrill of being free of clothes is amazing. What have we been missing?”
I certainly agreed. Even though nudity becomes routine when 50 people around you are nude, focusing on one person’s naked body is always exciting.
After our swim, we decided to walk down the beach. As I had heard, at the far end of the beach, where the island began its turn, was a stretch of beach with a sign. “vêtements en option.” My high school French is weak, but I understood. ‘Clothing optional’. We continued into the area, and as advertised, people were completely nude. Women, men, young, old, beautiful or not. It didn’t matter. We all looked, while trying to be nonchalant.
“What do you think Melissa. When in Rome…?” I asked with a grin.
“This isn’t Rome, buddy. These are the far suburbs,” she replied.
We all laughed. But a seed was planted.
We returned to our place in the sand and continued to sunbath. The girls were now very comfortable walking around topless, and didn’t cover up even when we went to the snack bar, which was a small kiosk just off the beach.
They put their tops back on when we returned to the hotel. Back on our room, we needed to shower after a full day of sweat and sand. I showered first. Then the girls went together into the bathroom to shower, and I heard their laughter through the door. They came out wearing towels. I tried to appear busy reading a magazine, but I mostly wondered if Lisa would dress in front of me. After all, I had seen most of her on the beach — but not everything. Lisa’s clothes were in the sitting area, of which I had a clear view. She turned her back to me and removed her towel. I watched her bare round bottom as she slipped on panties. Then she turned slightly toward me as she guided her breasts into her bra. I loved that the self-consciousness I would have expected didn’t appear to exist. She was becoming comfortable with showing her body.
But Melissa was eyeing me. She knew my “magazine reading” was suspicious and noticed my glances toward the bare body of her friend. I made a show of looking away, but Melissa knows me too well. Caught.
We had dinner at the resort, and watched the nightly entertainment, a singer with a band. Afterwards, we sat outside with drinks. The vacationers’ best friend, alcohol, was plentiful. Finally, it was time for bed. Our first night.
Lisa changed in the bathroom into her sleepwear. Really, just a frilly length of nylon coming to her thighs, with panties underneath. Even though I had seen her bare breasts, the seductiveness of lingerie aroused me. She lay upon the lounge, with a sheet covering her. Melissa and I occupied the bed. I reached over to rub her shoulders (a normal prelude to sex), but she pushed my hands away and made a motion indicating ‘not now.’ As I had feared.
The lounge was not very large and Lisa’s stretched out body barely fit on it. And it wasn’t very wide. She scrunched herself to fit as best she could, but it was clear to us that it wasn’t comfortable.
“Lisa, come get in bed,” Melissa called out.
“No, I’m fine. Just takes some getting used to.”
“You’re not fine,” Melissa replied. “We’ve got a huge bed here. Get in bed.”
“I can sleep on the floor.”
It took a little coaxing, but Lisa joined us, with Melissa in the middle.
With her friend lying so close, Melissa wouldn’t even let me spoon her. My fears about a third person crimping our sex life were coming true. Or so it appeared.
We all slept soundly, and the next day was similar to the first. Time on the beach, lunch, some walking around the resort grounds (tennis courts, a pool). As evening fell, I suggested that Melissa and I take a walk by ourselves, along the beach. Lisa was fine with that.
The nude beach section of the beach is screened from view from the hotel, as you’d expect, and is secluded. When we reached it, there was no one there.
I put my arm around Melissa. “Wouldn’t it be nice to find a cozy spot here for a little one-on-one time?” I suggested.
Melissa fully understood my import.
“I know you’re horny, but I’m not having sex with you on a beach. I’d be picking sand out of my bottom for a week. I know Lisa has disrupted our sex life, but give it time, things will work out.”
I wasn’t very happy, but there was nothing I could do. But as luck would have it, Lisa was getting horny too. She hadn’t had sex since the break-up, and we were watching mostly naked people all day — men as well as women. The French men wore skimpy thong bathing suits that fit tightly over their assets. The outline of their penis and testicles was obvious. And most of the men were young, with muscular chests and legs. Regrettably for Lisa, virtually all of them were there with wives or girlfriends, so there were slim pickings for a single woman, even one as pretty as she.
I didn’t realize how sexually tense Lisa had become until the fourth day, when she announced that she was going to sunbathe on the nude beach — with us if we wished or she’d go by herself. Melissa was shocked.
“Lisa, are you out of your mind,” she asked. “You’ll get yourself raped.”
“Nonsense,” Lisa replied. “We’ve seen that beach for days now, and there are normal people there. They’re just in the nude. I love the freedom of the air and water on my body. What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid,” said Melissa. “But I’d be nervous of you being there by yourself. You don’t speak French. What if some guy approached you?”
“Not to worry,” I spoke up. “I’ll go with Lisa.”
That’s me. Always trying to be of service. But, of course, I was thrilled with the prospect. Melissa snapped her head around toward me.
“Oh, Mr. Helpful, all of a sudden,” she said. “I bet you’d love it. No way are only you two going there. We’ll all go.”
I don’t think Melissa actually realized when she spoke that she was agreeing to sunbathe nude. It was a spontaneous remark motivated by silly jealousy. But she had committed herself.
We gathered our stuff and began the walk down the beach. I was perspiring, and not from the heat. There was electricity coursing through my body at the prospect of seeing Lisa nude. Of all of us being nude together.
When we arrived at the clothing optional area, we spread our blankets out. The girls were already topless, but now was the time for the bikini bottoms to come off. Lisa was first. There were lovely blonde curls covering her vulva, ample but neatly trimmed. Melissa hesitated. We both looked at her. Then with her eyes closed, she lowered the bottom. And it was done. Melissa’s front was different, with thick black curls caressing the pelvic mound. My head was swimming at the two beautiful naked women, stretched out on their backs on the blankets.
“Are you shy?” Lisa said to me.
Of course, it was my turn. I pulled my trunks off, freeing myself. My penis was semi-hard, and I fought to keep myself from full arousal. That would have been, as the French say, gauche. I lay down on my stomach, hoping that the hot sand heating the blanket would allow my partial arousal to abate.
“Nice buns,” Lisa said, rubbing her hand over my bare backside.
I protested a little, but I know no one believed me.
Lisa asked Melissa to apply suntan lotion. I watched as she massaged lotion onto Lisa’s shoulder and back.
“Do I get a turn?” I asked. “Would someone do my back?”
I had pointedly not asked Melissa to do it. Just threw the request out there to see what would happen.
Melissa looked at Lisa. Animal understanding passed between the two best friends.
“Let’s share him,” Melissa said. “You do one side; I’ll do the other.”
That was the moment. The line had been crossed. All that followed that week flowed from that decision. I was to be shared.
They each poured lotion over my back, and together rubbed it in. When they covered the back, they continued down the body, to the spine, to the buttocks, down the legs, inside the thighs.
I lay there, soaking in four hands kneading the skin. The idea of an erection abating was long gone. I was hard as a rock. There was no way I could turn over.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
Lisa asked, “Do you want us to do your front?”
I turned my head to the side and gave her a look. “That would not be wise at the moment,” I said.
The girls laughed. They knew.
We spent over an hour in the hot sun, discreetly looking at each other, at people around us, being watched by them, and enjoying the freedom of bare skin in the breeze.
When we returned to the hotel for our showers, the girls headed toward the bathroom.
“Am I not invited?” I asked.
They looked at each other and it was agreed without a word being spoken. The shower was decent sized, but still, three of us inside wasn’t very practical. But it was wonderful. I soaped Melissa’s back as the warm water cascaded upon us, and reached around to lather the breasts. While I was doing that, Lisa was applying soap to my back and buttocks. Melissa turned around to wash my front, applying soap to the penis and testicles, stroking them with the slippery mixture. Of course, I had an erection, to the amusement of the ladies.
“What shall we do about this poor lad who seems to be starved for sex?” asked Melissa.
“A good erection should never be wasted,” said Lisa. And she pulled me to her and cupped my testicles with her hand. She rubbed along the penis. Melissa reached under my buttocks to massage the skin where the prostate gland is. The combination of both women sent a paroxysm through me and I ejaculated. I lay against the shower wall, drained and weak.
We exited the shower and dried.
“I owe you both,” I said.
“Yes, you do,” replied Lisa. “And debts need to be paid.”
We headed to the bed. The three of us, without a stitch, jumped on the bed. I knelt in front of Lisa and buried my head in her crotch, while Melissa rubbed my back. I sucked on her clit, entered her with my finger, seeking out the G spot. She writhed on the bed in appreciation. Meanwhile, Melissa was fingering my testicles from behind, restoring the erection that had ended with the ejaculation. They tossed me onto my back, and with mouths and hands, worked the erection into full height.
“Do you want him?” asked Lisa to Melissa.
“No, I’ve had Brad before. It’s your turn,” said Melissa.
With that, Lisa straddled over my middle and lowered herself onto my erect penis. She slowly raised and lowered herself, with her hands pressed against my chest. We both gave in to the rhythm of pleasure. She was in control, and rocked slowly at first, then more hurriedly. Her face showed her looming excitement until finally she came with a small cry. She lowered herself to press her warm body against mine. I wasn’t able to climax again so soon, so had to content myself with the pleasant tactile sensation, and the delight of seeing her pleasure. Melissa sanctioned our union by stroking my hair.
From that time on, we all slept huddled together in our big bed, and explored each other’s bodies. We were like teenagers discovering sex. The nude beach was our second home. The week flew by with all the combinations and permutations that three bodies could think of. Even the girls gave each other pleasure when I begged off, from exhaustion.
When we got back home, I half expected this menage a trois to continue. But it did not. Martinique had been a special place and a crazy time. We stayed friends. Lisa and Bill got back together again. We did not speak to him of our trip other than to say we had a wonderful time, and wished he had been there. At least for me, that was a lie.