It's been a wonderful winter.
In October I cashed in. The investment I made earlier in the year paid off even more handsomely than I could have expected. Frank's proposition sounded loony to everyone else, but I found it intriguing and just enough off the wall that maybe it would get somewhere. And I knew Frank - he was like a crazyass terrier when he got hold of an idea. If there was a rat's ass chance of it succeeding, he's the guy that'll make certain it does. And sure enough five months later a big franchise organization offers to purchase the whole deal. My eighty percent ownership turned into a small fortune overnight.
I started my "retirement" with a week of frivolity in Key West for Fantasy Fest. Wow - that crowd knows how to party! By Friday and Saturday evening there were hundreds of nearly naked women parading up and down Duval Street, most of them scantily clad, many topless, and quite a few wearing nothing but paint. One of my regular squeezes from up north had accompanied me and we had a blast. Friday she wore a semi see-through minidress with nothing underneath and Saturday she went for the paint - just a sinuous black line that started right at her freshly shaved gash and encircled her body like a vine with a few green leaves painted onto it here and there. Both nights we had incredible sex and Saturday we even managed to pick up another painted urchin to join us back in our room. As far as I'm concerned, you never can have too much naked pussy.
She headed back home and I spent a couple days in the Miami area before hopping a flight to first Grand Cayman for a few days of primarily business and then Martinique where I have been since. I've a rented bungalow that is part of a complex of 36 similiar one bedroom units, a "clubhouse", and a pool. I have internet access on a laptop, a sat phone, and no schedule or anyone to report to. Oh yeah, and sunshine every day and no snow.
My typical day consists of tumbling out of bed around seven, slipping on a cotton thong (I sleep in the nude), a pair of short shorts, a T-shirt, and a pair of sandals. I then take a short walk into the village where there is a lovely little cafe where I can get a magnificent cup of coffee and absolutely the very best croissant in the Carribean, quite possibly the world. I sit and read for a while, sip my coffee, and savor the croissant before heading back to my bungalow. I strip down to the thong and exercise (pushups, crunches, and leg-raises), followed by a shower and shave before spending a couple ours online doing correspondence and managing my assets and investments.
Shaving takes a while, as I have taken to shaving my entire body (with the exception of the hair in my head, which was longish before I got here and now reaches my shoulders). I tip the scales at 140 pounds and stand 5 foot eight inches. My body is trim, fit, lithe, and nicely tanned. When I finish shaving, I oil myself up with tanning oil, then reach into my special drawer.
The drawer is filled with thongs. Actually they're more of a g-string, all identical in size, fit, and construction, but all different in color or pattern. Red, white, green, blue, apricot, black, striped, fushia, paisley, forty-six different variations on a theme. Before I came south, I spent a couple days in Manhattan visiting various fabric wholesalers finding every variation of microknit fabric I could, then sent them all to a shop in Malaysia along with a finished example of what I wanted that I had found a couple years ago and loved the way it fit. When I arrived in Grand Cayman, a good sized box was waiting for me with the finished thongs.
They fit wonderfully and are mere ounces in weight. Actually, I weighed one: twelve grams. Two corners of a six inch triangle of fabric is connected to an eighth inch thick waistband and a similiar sized vertical that runs from the middle of the waistband to the third corner of the triangle. They are beautifully constructed and stretch in every direction. I'm of fairly average endowment with a pronounced mushroom shaped circumcised head and when I slip one on, my cock and balls are nicely packaged and presented.
When I reach into the drawer I'm never quite certain what color or pattern I might pull out on any given day. This morning it was bright yellow. After I'm attired for the day, I grab my sunglasses and a small bag to carry lotion, cash, and a couple condoms (always prepared), then head for the beach and a nice leisurely stroll that lasts an hour, taking me in to Fort de France where I grab lunch from a cart vendor that sets up at the edge of the beach. As I walk the water's edge, I pass by several large hotels with their guests out on chaises. Most are Europeans, a few Americans, and a handful are South Americans. Most of the men pay me no attention, but many women follow my almost naked progress. I love having women ogle my toned and tan physique as well as my package jiggling slightly as I walk along. If I get hard because I know that I'm being watched, the triangle of fabric stretches to accommodate things nicely. I love the way the skimpy stretchy fabric feels. There is just enough give that my package bounces a little as I walk, much like a great pair of tits on a woman does when she's braless.
After lunch, I strut down the street a block to Marie's. We met my first week here. Every day she was also at the vendor, also clad in nothing more than a G-string, hers even skimpier than mine and displaying a very nice little cameltoe. We eyed each other lustily each day and finally spoke, although that was limited, as her English was about as good as my French, that is to say minimal. After six months now, I am much better conversing in both French and patois, but that day it was awkward. We stumbled through hellos and each complemented the other on our attire before she extended her hand and then led me down the street she in her miniscule floral print g-string, I in my navy blue one, her tits bouncing ever so slightly as we walked, my package doing the same until we reached a gift shop. Her flat was above and accessed via a side door.
Once inside, her hand went to my crotch and she began to explore. I reached for her lovely breasts, but she brushed my hand away before I could make contact. Instead, she sank to her knees, pulled my thong down to my ankles and took my cock into her mouth. She played with my balls, licked my shaft, and returned to sucking. It felt wonderful and before very long I was pumping a big load of lovejuice down her throat. When I was totally drained, she stood, pressed her luscious body against me and kissed me on the cheek then stepped away. I pulled the thong back up and tucked everything back into place. She showed me to the door and closed it behind me.
I thought that was likely to be the end of it, but next day there she was and again we visited her flat, with the same procedure as before. Since then it has been a daily ritual, with only one change. One day about a month after our first session, as I stood there with my cock in her mouth, I noticed the reflection of a face in a glass cabinet door. Another young woman was watching.
I pretended not to notice, and the next day the same thing occurred. This time I waved to the reflection to come toward us. Initially it just disappeared, but then popped back into view again. After motioning to her again, she emerged, another lovely young thing, also wearing only a g-string bathing suit. She stood there coyly one hand clutching the elbow of her other arm behind her back. I pulled my cock out of Marie's mouth for a moment to give her a better look.
After I motioned again for her to come closer, she took a few intrepid steps forward. Marie was focused on making me cum and right about then I did and at just about the same time Marie realized that we were being watched.
Initially Marie was cross that we had been spied upon, but I was able to convince her that I not only was not bothered by it and in fact rather enjoyed it. After I slipped back into my g-sting, she introduced the voyeur as Katrin before showing me out. When I returned the next day, Katrin was the one who dropped to her knees and sucked me off while Marie sat watching and smoked a cigarette. Ever since, they have alternated, one watching and one sucking. Never have I been allowed to touch either other than to insert my cock into their mouths.
Each day after my lunchtime blowjob I return to the beach and walk back ot my bungalow, past the leering ladies all baking in the sun. Once back to the complex, I take a dip in the pool and then I exercise again and take another shower, check in on my stocks again after the market has closed, and before you know it, it's time for dinner. For dinner I dress in slacks and a polo shirt, then head into the village for what is inevitably a great meal. It begins with a perfectly prepared martini at one of the three establishments there that I've trained just how I like it. Generally I indulge in some form of locally caught seafood, prepared only as a French based culture can. After dinner I read for a bit, then after the sun has gone down I go out for a nice long nude walk on the beach. It's amazing how many other people are out there doing the exact same thing. For every ten people you come upon, there's at least one other, generally couples who are also naked.
One day while I was at the pool I noticed a stunning older blonde lounging in a white two piece suit. Her hair was pure white, she was deeply tanned and she had an exquisite figure - tall, slender but shapely with well defined breasts and hips that balanced them nicely. Every day after that she was there at the pool and every day it was some form of a white swimsuit she wore. A couple times I caught her checking me out, so I started walking right in front of her as she lay there or after I'd gotten my drink at the bar, standing just a few feet away while I sipped it for a while.
I was returning from my beach walk a week and a half after the first time I spotted her, and there she was, coming along the pathway just before it branched off and one leg headed toward my place. That day my thong was brilliant turquoise. She was as usual in a white bikini, this one with ties at each side of the bottom and another between the bra cups. We almost passed without acknowledgement, but at the last moment I said hello and she returned the greeting, then stopped just in front of me. It seemed as though she wanted to say something, but couldn't get it out. I looked at her inquisitively and finally she spoke up. "Forgive me for being so forward, but I keep seeing you every day and I just can't help it, but..."
