Final

Author's Note: This story is the final installment of a series. While it is not necessary to read all of the prior installments, reading a few will provide a much better understanding of the characters and how they have reached this point. The series has already gone on too long. However, some readers have expressed interest in the characters so I felt that I should try to write a finale that has a bit of closure. I apologize for my shortcomings as a storyteller and writer. I thank everyone who has read, rated, or commented on any of these stories.

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After the meets in Florida, Heather, Sandy, Sara, and I flew back to the island. I was somewhat apprehensive about how my relationship with Heather would be after we had made love (of course, that apprehension wasn't sufficient to stop me from fucking her). It seemed that my apprehension was unwarranted. Heather seemed more relaxed and more self-confident, and I detected no hint of competition or tension between her and Sara.

Although it was the height of a Caribbean summer, there was no letup in the training schedule which Sara imposed. Actually, between Sara and Sandy, Heather was getting good training and her times were coming down. In a bit of an anomaly, Heather's nude times were consistently better than her suited times. Nonetheless, I thought that Heather was making real progress towards an outstanding season swimming for the university. I also thought that Sandy and Sara were learning from each other. Hopefully, this would help Sandy when she returned to the university as Lauren's graduate assistant coach.

Soon after we got back to the island, Sandy got another piece of news. Her boyfriend Rob had been drafted by the White Sox and had been pitching for their rookie league affiliate in Great Falls. Rob called Sandy to say that he had done something to his right foot so that it was excruciatingly painful each time he came down on it as he made his delivery. He was headed to Chicago for more thorough examination and imaging.

A few days later, Rob called again to say that the organization was shutting him down for the year. Since he had planned to being playing ball all summer, he was now left with nothing to do. He wondered whether he would be welcome to come to the island and stay with Sandy. Sandy covered her phone with her hand as she relayed that question to Sara, Heather, and me. She needn't have bothered. The response was unanimous. Rob was definitely welcome.

If Rob was surprised at our skimpy dress when we picked him up at the airport, he didn't show it. Sara, Heather, and Sandy all wore sheer pareos with nothing underneath. I was commando under a very short pair of shorts. Sandy sat in Rob's lap on the drive back to the extreme southern end of the island.

It only took Rob about a day to fall in with our clothing discarded lifestyle. Wisely, perhaps, Rob did not participate in our training. Instead, he made himself very useful doing maintenance and repair projects around the house and grounds that I had meant to get to but never did.

The second week of Rob's stay, Sara woke us all very early one Thursday morning. "What's up?" I asked.

"Come on, we need to get going," Sara replied.

"Going where?" I asked.

"Fort de France," Sara said.

It took me a second. "Wait. It's Bastille Day. There's a parade and everything. FdF will be slammed."

"I know," Sara said, "that's why we need to get there early."

I had more-or-less learned that Sara wouldn't tell me what she had planned until she was good and ready, so I groggily pulled on shorts, sandals, and a tee shirt while Sara roused the others. It was still dark as we left our property headed for the largest town on the island. Once we reached Fort de France, Sara confidently navigated a series of back streets until she stopped outside what looked like a house. I knew that we were only a couple of blocks from the town center where the parade and festivities would be starting in a few hours.

Sara pressed a buzzer outside the building's street door. A female voice said "Allo?" over a scratchy intercom. Sara said a few words in French and the door buzzed open.

"Second floor" Sara said to us as she gestured for us to enter the building. Up the stairs, the first door to my right was half open. A thin black-haired lady, probably about 26, stood in the doorway. She and Sara spoke for a minute before the lady opened her door all the way.

Walking in, I saw drop cloths covering the floor. A much larger man, about the same age as the lady, leaned out of a room and said something to which the black-haired lady responded. To us, Sara said, "Quick. Get your clothes off."

Sandy put her hands on her hips. "Ok, Sara, what is up?"

Smiling broadly, Sara said, "We're marching in the parade. First, we have to be painted. That will take a while. Pierre will do us. Yvette will paint the guys."

Sara's plan was still not entirely clear but, sensing an adventure of some sort, we all stripped down. Yvette started on Rob. I soon figured out that she was painting him the colors of the French flag. It took much longer than I would have expected, but, eventually Rob's entire left side, front and back, head to toe, was blue. His middle, including his dick and balls, were white; and his right side was red. Yvette finally finished Rob and said something to him in French which Sara translated as "stand over there but don't lean against anything."

As Yvette started on me, I saw Pierre finishing Heather. I closed my eyes and let Yvette run her brushstrokes over my skin. Eventually, Yvette said something which I interpreted as "You're done. Go stand with Rob."

Pierre soon finished Sandy. Then Pierre and Yvette together began on Sara. While Heather, Sandy, Rob, and I had been painted in vertical stripes that ran the length of our bodies, Pierre and Yvette painted Sara in horizontal stripes. From her face to just below her tits, Sara was blue. Down to just past her triangle, she was white. Most of both legs were red.

Once Sara had dried, she picked up her small purse, pulled out some cash and handed it to Pierre. Yvette brought a plastic bag into which we stuffed all of our things save for our footwear. We followed Sara back to the street where she locked the bag in a small metal box welded to the back bumper of her SUV.

Wearing only sandals and her small purse over a shoulder, Sara said, "Come on" and started down a side street. Naked and painted like French flags, the rest of us followed.

I finally figured out that we were headed for the assembly point for the parade. I asked Sara, "Do we have permission to be in the parade?"

Sara gave me her 100 watt smile. "No one will say anything," she said breezily.

No one did. As the parade started to move out, Sara had us fall in behind a float celebrating God knows what. Behind us marched a group in the traditional dress of Paris mimes.

As we approached the town center, the sidewalks were jammed with people and more people hung off of balconies and out of windows. Sara was smiling and waving to one side of the street and then the other. The rest of us followed her lead. Our nudity was definitely noticed, but seemed well received. Parading through town completely nude, I felt totally on display and just a bit naughty. It was a great feeling.

At one point, Rob and I fell back behind the girls. We marched for a block or two thoroughly enjoying the three beautiful, bare, painted asses in front of us. Sara finally turned halfway around and gestured impatiently for us to catch up. We marched the rest of the route in line holding hands. Sara was, naturally, in the center. Rob was to her left and I was to her right. Sandy was outside of Rob, closest to one side of the street, and Heather was outside of me, closest to the other.

Heather was holding my right hand tightly. At one point, Heather turned her head to me and shouted over the crowd noise, "This is so hot. I'm really wet. I hope my paint doesn't run!" Judging by the looks that comment drew from the men on the float in front of us, at least a few of them spoke English.

We were only a couple of blocks from the bay where I judged that the parade would end. Sara suddenly said, "In there" nodding towards a faux English pub which she and I had occasionally visited called "Trafalgar Square." Naked, the five of us wormed through the crowd lining the street and into the pub. I assume that the girls were groped a bit. I know that several hands touched my dick. I hoped that they were all female.

The pub was busy, but not slammed and we found a high table to stand at. Soon, Rita, a rather buxom Englishwoman who ran the pub with her partner Tony, came over. She gave us all a long look. Smiling, she said, "Well, I think we're not supposed to serve you if you've got nothing on. But, it is Bastille Day so we'll make an exception." Rita was gone and back with our drinks faster than I expected.

Sara and I were casual friends with Rita and Tony. Like so many, they had bounced around the Caribbean for several years. They had spent the last two running the pub for a local entrepreneur and constantly complaining about his refusal to hire more staff. Sara asked Rita, "How late are you working tonight?"

"Oddly," Rita said, "Yves wants us to close around 6:00 p.m. What with clean up, Tony and I should be quit of here by 7:00 or 7:30."

"Sally's having fireworks at the restaurant just after dark," Sara said.

"I know," Rita replied, "I've seen her adverts."

"The two of young should come down," Sara replied.

"We might at that," Rita said. "I'm sure Tony won't mind seeing your lot running about starkers."

We had one drink and left. Running about Fort de France nude on Bastille Day was one thing, but getting stopped for impaired driving was another matter entirely. Sara led us unerringly through side streets back to her SUV. There was only the occasional comment about our nudity. I helped Sara take the canvass top off of her SUV and we climbed in, still nude and painted.

Parading nude through Fort de France had been exciting. What I had wanted to do when we got home was make love to Sara on the beach in the afternoon sun. However, as we approached our home, we saw that our cove was so full of anchored boats that, even for exhibitionists like us, that idea seemed unwise. A few of the boaters, though, did seem to enjoy watching the five of us scrub the paint off of each other under our outdoor shower.

After we had all toweled off, Rob and Sandy retired to the guest bedroom. Sara suggested that it might be a long night and, since we had arisen so early, a nap was in order. Once she said that, I was tired. I went to sleep sandwiched between nude Sara and nude Heather.

When I awoke about three hours later, Sara was already out of bed. Heather was still asleep but had my dick in her right hand. I kissed her to wake her up. We went outside for another shower and found Rob and Sandy washing each other. There were still, or again, boaters watching.

Clean, we went inside, made drinks, and joined Sara sitting on the patio facing the cove.

"Why are there so many boats?" Rob asked. "Since I've been here, it's rare to see even one anchored here."

"I'm not sure," I answered. "I suppose that the holiday has something to do with it, but I'd expect everyone to be anchored over by Sally's. Maybe all of her anchorages filled up."

Nude, we sipped our drinks in full view of the mass of boats anchored only a few yards away. As the afternoon drug on, I noticed a few female boaters coming topside topless and even a few boaters fully nude. About 5:30, people began coming ashore and heading over the point towards Sally's.

"Perhaps we should go to," Sara said. "We don't want to be struck without a table." We took our glasses inside, Sara grabbed her small purse, and we set out naked and barefoot across the small point towards Sally's restaurant."

While we were in the "woods" on the point, Sally stopped and pulled several things that looked like suppositories out of her purse. She giggled. "Sally got these from her doctor friend." Sara handed me one. "Harry, please stick this up my ass." Sara turned and bent forward. I did as I was told, spreading Sara's glorious cheeks and pushing the suppository into what I can only describe as her beautiful asshole.

Sara stood and turned to me, smiling broadly. She handed me another suppository. "Do Heather," Sara commanded. Heather compliantly turned and bent and I pushed a suppository into Heather's equally desirable ass. Sandy also handed a suppository to Rob who inserted it into Sandy.

Smiling, Sara held up two more suppositories. Handing one to Sandy, Sara said "Your turn guys." I turned and bent and felt Sara's fingers working a suppository into my asshole.

Standing back up, I asked "What are these supposed to do?" Naturally, I waited until we each had one stuck in our asses before I asked what they were.

Sara replied, "They were supposed to be a new treatment to relieve discomfort of people with bowel diseases. Sally's doctor friend got quite a few on an experimental basis. Supposedly, they were utterly useless for what was intended but a side effect was discovered."

"What side effect?" I asked.

Sara giggled. "They induce sexual arousal."

It could have been the placebo effect, but, by the time we reached Sally's already crowded restaurant on the beach, both Rob and I had full hard-ons. Likewise, all three of the girls had nipples hard and pointing.

Sally was standing by the "entrance" to her permanent dining room, actually a roofed patio with a bar on the inland side and the structure containing the kitchen inland of that. Looking at us, Sally joked, "You guys are excited to see me."

Sally's bar and restaurant, which Sara and I had originally been part-owners of, was located in the very small "quartier naturiste" on the south end of the island. Over time, Sally and her new partners had expanded and improved the business. It was now a destination for sailors and a fair number of locals. In addition to the kitchen staff and her partners Chelsea and Tom behind the bar, Sally had six servers working: two guys and four women. All of Sally's staff worked nude. I wasn't quite sure how that squared with the island's health regulations, but never asked. The crowd, growing rapidly, was about half nude and half clothed.

Looking around, I noticed two things. First, Sally usually had tables set up on the beach. Those were gone and a rope was stretched across the beach about halfway between the bar and the water. Second, I noticed buoys out in the entrance to the cove with yellow tape strung between them. The only thing in the cove was a large barge. That, at least, explained why everyone had anchored in our cove.

Sara saw a number of people whom she knew and was flitting all over the bar. Heather took me by my penis and led me to the one empty table. We sat and a very attractive nude young lady working as a server came over.

"Monsieur Stone?" she asked. I nodded. The young lady removed the reserved sign from the table. After we ordered our drinks and the server had left, Heather got up and sat sideways in my lap. She reached down and guided my hard-on between her legs so that my shaft was rubbing against the outside of her lips. The server came back, left our drinks, looked at how we were sitting, and smiled at us. Sandy and Rob soon joined us.

Sally walked over. We were pleasant to each other, but Sally had been an extremely close friend to both Sara and I. There was some residual tension from the dispute that led Sara and I to give Sally our share of the bar and bar property.

"Did you try those things I gave Sara?" Sally asked. She looked at Heather and me and then at Sandy and Rob. She answered her own question, "I see that you have. Aren't they wonderful?"

Sara bounced over, a bundle of energy. To us all, Sally said, "You guys should move down to the rope line. Once it gets dark, we'll start the fireworks and that will be the best place to watch. I'll get the sign back to hold your table."

The five of us took our drinks and walked onto the beach. As others saw us, they began coming down too. Soon, it was very crowded by the rope line. I was standing behind Sara. As the crowd pressed in on us, she reached back and spread her cheeks. I stepped forward slightly so that my dick was in her crack. Looking to my right, I saw that Sandy and Rob had adopted a similar position. Heather was crushed between us with one hand on my ass and one on Rob's. Sara started moving her legs very slightly so that her hips rubbed, very gently, on my dick.

The fireworks were spectacular. Not long after they started, Sara had turned around and we were soon fucking. The crowd was so thick that we were not too concerned that we'd be seen by the gendarmes. Sara and I were trying to pace ourselves to both come during the finale. That was difficult since we didn't know how long the display was to go on. In the end, our timing was off. First Sara then I orgasmed just before the final. We were holding each other, panting and kissing as the pyrotechnicians on the barge set off the final mammoth blast.

One thing about the drugs which Sara had given us earlier was that, even though I had just shot a massive load inside Sara, I was still hard and felt like I could go again right away. Just because I felt that way didn't mean that I really could so Sara and I followed the crowd back up the beach after the show. Heather quickly rejoined us and then Sandy and Rob. Looking at Sandy and Rob, I suspected that they too had fucked during the fireworks.

A significant part of the crowd left directly after the fireworks. As we re-entered the bar, we ran into Rita and Mark. Rita gave us an up and down look and then said "Been having fun, have we?"

"Yes. A great deal of fun," Sara answered. "Come on, this is the quartier naturiste. Why are you still dressed?"

Rita responded affably, "Just because you lot run about with your kit off does not mean that we should."

We invited them over to our table and everyone ordered a drink. Our drinks were followed by Sally who reported that "The gendarmes are leaving. They were just here for the fireworks. Everyone can relax now."

The crowd thinned out more as the evening went on. By about an hour after the end of the fireworks, only about a hundred people were left. Almost all of them were nude and a glance towards the shadowed corners of the beach suggested that we were not the only people who had sex on the beach that night.

Somewhere around 11:00 p.m., I noticed that all of Sally's female servers had disappeared. They marched out in line from a building behind the kitchen and it took me a minute to realize that all four girls now had furry tails hanging out of their asses. That ratcheted things up a bit, and soon some patrons were fucking in the bar. Looking around, I noticed that Rita had taken her top off. She definitely had big tits. Mark's mouth covered the nipple of one.

Thanks, I think, to whatever Sara had shoved up my ass a few hours ago, I was still rock hard. I was sitting comfortably in a chair at our table when Heather came up to me. Reaching down, she grasped the head of my dick in her hand and said, "Follow me." A few people, likely fairly drunk by now, saw Heather leading me by the dick and cheered. Heather took me to a bench at a long table near the center of the room. "Sit facing me," Heather commanded. I did. She came up and put her legs over the opposite side of the bench, straddling me. Heather took my shaft in her hand and guided me into her as she lowered herself onto me. Heather started giving me a good ride. I felt wonderful. The look of bliss in her face and her tits bouncing in front of me were, well, spectacular.

Unwittingly, I had drunk enough that I was able to hold on despite the intense stimulation Heather was providing. As she continued to ride me, a group of people gathered around us watching. I could tell that Heather was aware of it and she rode harder. From this experience and a prior one, I gathered that Heather got off on people watching her fuck. We were able to maintain the performance for a good while before Heather began convulsing and screaming. Feeling Heather come finally sent me over, although it was an effort. Sara had left me with very little.