I awaken from my slumber with the sound of calling seagulls and waves crashing on the beach. Slowly stretching my limbs, I threw the thin silk sheets off my body. My eyes still shut, I procrastinated on getting up. Finally, I scrounge enough will power to get to my feet. Still half asleep, I stumble out through my bedroom bay doors to the outdoor shower. I could feel the slight tickle of the warm breeze across my naked body. Turning on the faucet, I could feel the cool water rushing over my body. Turning off the shower and shaking out my long wet hair, I step out of the shower. My body quivered slightly from the chillness of the air, as I walked backed to my bungalow bedroom. Back in my bungalow, I strut over to a set of floor length mirrors, and gazing into it. The reflection of a shapely voluptuous tanned skin goddess, with long golden shag hair stood looking back at me. With a genetic condition that runs in my family, I run my hands down and out over my overly large breasts that hang out and down to my naval, squeezing my nipples, giving me a arousing shiver up and down my spine. Living in a warm Caribbean island, dress is ultra casual, as I slip on a flowered bikini bottom and tie skirt over my hips. With the islands topless attire, I opt to forego the top of my outfit, leaving my breasts exposed.
The hot sand squeezes between my toes as I walk along the beach, drifting towards the surf, as I feel the cool water rush past my ankles. As I walk, the beach starts to be slightly congested with male and female beach goers. I notice stares coming from the others as I approach. Stares of lust from all the guys, and stares of envy from the ladies. Local guys coming up to me and acknowledging my existence as they approach. "Baby D! How's it going girl?!" They all say as they pass by, with a look of getting in-between my legs. With a smile on my face and a attitude in my strut, my tits jiggling, as I continue on my way. The local guys are fun to be around, but they're just little boys as far as I'm concerned, and I don't have any romantic interest in both the local and most of visiting little boys that come from the mainland. Even though they want to get in my pants every time I turn around. Oh well, such is life I guess, but I'm looking for a real man to sweep me off my feet. I don't see that happening anytime soon.
Approaching the local food court. I could see it was bustling with activity as people moved around. Walking into a crowded area, I found myself colliding with some local teenage youths running through the court, knocking me down, my butt hitting the street. Still in some what a daze from my fall, I see a strong hand reach down with a gentle voice behind it. "Are you alright miss?" The gentleman said with an English accent. Taking his hand, I look up to see a young nicely dressed gentleman in his mid twenties. He was slender, but physically fit. He had a strong jaw and gentle green eyes, with sandy brown hair. Like a true gentleman, he helped me to my feet. Showing no notice that I was running around topless. Finally on my feet once again, I found myself lost in his eyes. Wishing I could stay forever. I was whipped back to reality as I heard his voice once again. "Miss, are you alright?" Shaken to reality, I realized where I was at
and now embarrassed of my clothing situation in front of this wonderful rescuer standing before me. I quickly crossed my arms, trying to cover my large breasts. Seeing my embarrassment, he quickly took off his light colored suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. Apologizing for the youngsters obviously tearing her top off with their inconsiderate actions. I smiled, thanking him. He cleared his throat, looking at the young men. Grabbing the boys by the shoulders, sternly suggesting that they apologize to me for their rudeness. With their heads hanging down they gave their sorrys, as they tried sneaking peaks of my chest.
As I walked into my bungalow still wearing his jacket. I slipped it off and brought it up to my face, taking in its' aroma. Hearing a knocking at the door, I turned and put on a robe answering the caller. Three delivery men walked through the door carrying enough roses to fill the entire room. The card was from the English gentleman I met earlier. He apologized once again for the boys rudeness, and invited me to dinner to make up for the bad day. The flowers were accompanied with a cell phone and a boutique business card, to where a dress was waiting for me for the occasion. I dialed the number in the phone, as he answered, thanked him and told him I'd loved to join his for dinner. He told me that he would have a car pick me up later.