Beach Cabana

(Author's notes: This is a work of fiction. In this fantasy, nobody is worried about STDs. In real life, all non-monogamous sex should be practiced using accepted safe-sex precautions.

This story revisits the characters of earlier stories, Beach Vacay and Beach Bikini Shop. This story stands alone; you don't have to read either of those stories to follow this one. However, if you want to read them in order, Beach Vacay comes first, then Beach Bikini Shop, then this one. In addition, you can read about the same events as this story from the points of view of some of the other characters in No Room At the Cabana.

This story focuses on public nudity. If you find voluntarily undressing in front of strangers erotic, particularly if some of them stay fully clothed, you may enjoy it. It gets sexual late in the story, but if you're looking for wall-to-wall sex, this story isn't that.

All characters involved in erotic activity are at least 18 years old.

Thanks to editor Nick J. Bella for his effort and insight.)

: : : : :

"Cait! Cait!" My friend Danielle ran toward me, as excited as I've ever seen her.

I was returning to my dorm from checking on a final exam score, walking on air -- I aced it. With extra credit points, I scored over 100. It's hard to do much better than that!

"What?" I asked when she caught up with me.

"I did it!" she squealed. "I made the dean's list!"

"Woo-hoo!" I gave her a high five. "Congratulations, that's fantastic. I should check if I did."

"I already looked." She tried to sound ominous and look grim, but her eyes still sparkled.

"Well?" I couldn't believe she made me ask.

"Yes!" she yelped.

"Yay! I'm so proud -- of both of us. I wonder if Alyssa and Jessica did, too."

"Yes! All of us!"

The four of us have known each other forever. Our parents -- all eight of them -- went to college together. They were, and remain, best friends, even though they followed different career paths and ended up in different cities. Each couple had an only child, a girl, a few months apart, and that's the four of us. We've vacationed together every year since we were three. We're practically sisters -- none of us have any closer friends.

Physically, we're not merely cut from the same cloth, we're eerily the same size -- size 8 dresses, 34C bras. Our hips and busts match so perfectly we can share bikini tops and bottoms. Ally is tallest, about 5' 9, and looks the most slender, and Jessi is shortest, 5' 4 or so, and looks the curviest. I'm a redhead, with the freckles to go with it, Dani is a honey blonde, Ally a lighter shade of blonde, and Jessi's hair is such a dark shade of brown it's almost black, with rich mahogany highlights. Guys seem to like how we look -- I can't help noticing that when we walk by, they seem to lose their place in their conversations.

We were attending the same college as our parents, and had just finished our freshman year. We all dated, but none of us had a steady guy, and none of us pledged, so we had plenty of free time. We all love traveling, and every five or six weeks, class workload permitting, we'd leave campus for a weekend. We couldn't afford to go anywhere exotic, but our school was located within a couple of hours of both beaches and mountains, and we had great time exploring a variety of places. We kept our expenses low by driving, sharing a single economy hotel room, and often bringing groceries in a cooler for simple meals.

Living in the dorms, we usually ate in the cafeteria, but once a week we indulged in eating out. The "dean's list" night, we met at our favorite spot, Henry's, a popular eatery across the street from the Student Center. I could tell by looking that Jessi and Ally already knew about the dean's list.

We were moving in together, into the upper floor of an old but nice rent house two blocks from campus. It was furnished, with four bedrooms. Living in a dorm is mandatory for freshmen, but we were sophomores now, and couldn't wait to move. Our new bedrooms were tiny, but they seemed huge compared to the dorm.

After dinner, we returned to our dorm rooms to finish packing. I received a text from my parents telling me to meet the others at Henry's the next morning at 11:30. Weird, but no problem. Within minutes, I got texts from the others that they had gotten similar messages. I didn't know what the 'rents were up to, but whatever it was, it was carefully orchestrated.

When we arrived at Henry's, Al, the owner/manager, Henry's son, came over to our booth and said, "Packages arrived for you ladies this morning." He handed me four FedEx envelopes, one addressed to each of us, and returned to his regular position at the cash register.

The packages contained numbered envelopes: two ones, a two and a three. We opened them in that order. The number ones were to Dani and Ally. They each contained two airline tickets to Key West, Florida. We would be flying there in two weeks, out on Friday, back on Sunday -- two nights!

"Great, we're going to Key West," Jessi said, rather gloomily I thought. "I hear that's an expensive place. Anybody have any money, like for a room, or food?" We had spent every cent we had on the deposit and first month's rent for our apartment. To say the least, we were cash-poor.

"There are two more envelopes," I pointed out.

Envelope number two was to Jessi. It contained a printout of a pre-paid reservation for a hotel. Two nights, one room, two queen beds -- plenty big for the four of us.

Number three was to me. It contained a handsome wad of cash and a note, saying, "This should be plenty for your time there. If you scrimp on meals you could rent a car, but our travel agent says you shouldn't need one. Have a great time, we are all so proud of you!"

Dani had her tablet out and looked up the hotel. It looked like a traditional bed and breakfast, an old Victorian house that had been converted into individual rooms, each with a private bath. They didn't serve breakfast, so technically it wasn't a b&b they called themselves a "guest house."

"Here's the best part," she said excitedly. "Duval Street is where all the action is, and this place is one block over from Duval!"

Sounded like an awesome weekend in the making.

: : : : :

By late Saturday night, we were out of the dorms and in our apartment. I was completely unpacked, and Dani was almost done. Ally and Jessi probably had another long day ahead of them. They had crawled into their beds, exhausted.

I was painting my toenails, about ready for sleep myself. Dani joined me, a huge smile on her face, and held out her tablet for me to read. On the "guest house" website, we had scrutinized the "Home," "About," and "Rooms" tabs, but not "Spa" yet. It said: "Enjoy the swirling warm waters of the spa dressed as you like. The pool and the spa are 'clothing-optional.'"

That might have been a deal-breaker for many people, but not us. On several of our trips, we ended up naked in public. We hadn't done it often enough to be blasé about it, but we had learned that we find it exhilarating enough to be worth the effort of overcoming our inhibitions. I felt a grin growing that matched Dani's and said, "'Clothing-optional' pool and spa -- you're freaking kidding me." My gut began to flutter, a mixture of thrill and dread. Everything we had ever done before was spontaneous, spur of the moment. This time, we'd have days to get stage-fright. "You tell Ally and Jessi yet?"

"No, they're asleep. What do you think?"

I shoved the reluctance as far out of my head as I could, and said, almost sincerely, "Two words: Awe. Some."

: : : : :

People say, "Our flight was uneventful," but to us, flying to Key West was eventful. Nothing went wrong: we got through security easily, departed and arrived on time, had no heavy turbulence, our bags arrived. It's just, we were flying! None of us had ever flown much -- our dads almost always drove us on our family vacations. We changed planes in Miami, from a big jet to a little puddle-jumper, emphasizing that we were nearly there. I could barely contain my excitement, and from their body language, the others felt the same.

: : : : :

We cabbed to the guest house. A lady with a charming Australian accent checked us in. She suggested several restaurants, and offered to help us with reservations, rentals ("Bicycles and scooters are how most of the locals get around"), day-cruise bookings, or anything else we needed.

She asked, "Do you know about the pool and spa?" We nodded. "Okay then, you know they're clothing-optional. We're not a nudist resort, so the rest of the property is clothing-required. Basically, if you stand up, cover up."

With the rules out of the way, she left the tiny office unattended and took us on a quick tour. The hot tub was interesting, not next to the pool like you'd expect, but around a corner and down a walkway. It was under a cabana made of cedar slats, kind of like oversized window shutters, shielding it from direct sun and rain but allowing a steady breeze. Both the pool and the hot tub were deserted, so we didn't encounter any nudity.

Our room was at the top of some fantastic old stairs. It had two queen beds, an elegant tall ceiling, a galley kitchen, a bathroom, and a small balcony (unfortunately, no pool view). She apologized that the TV was tiny, but that was okay, we didn't plan to watch any TV.

It was still several hours until dinner time, so we had plenty of time for the pool. I was already nervous -- even though we wouldn't actually be getting naked for a few more minutes, how we were dressing was a first giant step. Dani, Jessi, and Ally put on bikini bottoms, then pulled on the baggy t-shirts we all use as cover-ups. Even though my head was spinning, I went all-in: I put on my t-shirt with nothing under it. Jessi raised her eyebrows at me, but I tried to sound casual and said, "Hey, we're here to get naked, I'm getting naked." No one said anything, but Dani reached under her t-shirt and pulled her bottoms off.

I hoped poolside was still empty, but I also hoped it wasn't. If no one was there, undressing would be easy, but lying there naked and wondering when someone else would arrive would be nerve-wracking. On the other hand, if people were already there, it would be stressful to undress in front of them, but once that was done we could relax and enjoy ourselves.

People were there, and they were naked, but they weren't what I expected. I had only imagined people approximately our age. These people were old -- at least as old as our parents.

I picked a chaise and draped my towel across it. I grasped the hem of my t-shirt, but couldn't quite bring myself pull it off. Taking off a t-shirt is a simple act, but at that moment it was anything but easy. I took a deep breath and forced my arms to lift it up to my waist, over my boobs, up to my shoulders, and over my head. My body sizzled as open air and strangers' eyeballs met naked flesh, and I struggled not to cover my chest and groin. To keep my head from exploding I adjusted my chair and worked to smooth my towel perfectly flat, hoping the trembling I felt didn't show. I dared a glance at my friends, and saw Dani also naked, looking far more comfortable than I felt. (She told me later that to her I looked more comfortable than she felt.) Jessi and Ally sat and only then peeled off their t-shirts, keeping on their bikini bottoms.

Warm tropical air, a steady breeze, and the sound of water lapping at the sides of the pool were nicely calming after the stress of stripping. After half an hour or so, I ratcheted up my courage, ordered my inhibitions back into their cage, and over the screaming objections of my uncovered body parts, got up and waded into the pool.

The water was perfect, cool compared to the air, but not chilly once I got in. I took the steps into the water one at a time, and for a moment the water came to the top of my thighs. Waves tickled me, teasing parts they couldn't quite reach, making me super aware of the bits that were entering the pool uncovered. My butt, my boobs, and my kitty -- especially my kitty -- all felt like they were blushing. I slumped forward into the water, shoulder deep. Dani joined me and we swam several laps before Jessi and Ally wiggled out of their bottoms and joined us.

I was floating on my back when the Australian lady led a group of new arrivals past the pool, taking them to their rooms like she had done for us. The odd way they glanced at us and then quickly looked away startled me -- I had forgotten we were naked!

Jessi and Ally got out, and the older ladies got in. They introduced themselves, Alice and Carol, and gestured at their guys, Bob and Ted. They said they came to Key West every year, and recommended some restaurants. We explained we were on a tight budget, and they named some less expensive places, several of them matching the Australian lady's suggestions. Carol suggested that since it was our first night we should splurge and eat in the heart of the action on Duval Street. Alice said, "It'll cost more, but you can balance that out later; some of the best places here are quite casual and inexpensive." That's when I started to realize that these ladies were pretty cool.

: : : : :

We decided upon Sloppy Joe's for dinner, supposedly where the sandwich of that name originated. I showered first, then while I waited for the others, used my tablet to find things to do after we ate. I found a website for an unbelievable bar on Duval Street -- a dance club that was clothing-optional. I had never heard of such a place! It was on the roof of another bar, open to the sky. I showed the page to Dani, who instantly said, "I'm in." As usual, Ally and Jessi weren't sure.

Dani and I put on our sun dresses with nothing underneath. Ally and Jessi both already had on bras and panties. When they started to pull their dresses on, Dani said, "Really, guys, really?" Ally took off her bra, then Jessi did, but neither one of them took off their panties.

There was a long wait for a table at the restaurant -- a good live band meant people stayed at their tables drinking long after they finished their meal. The food was good, but as crowded as it was the service was slow. By the time we arrived at the dance club, it was almost 11:00. We got past the bouncer (hooray for good fake IDs) and climbed two tall flights of stairs to the third-floor rooftop. I didn't have to wonder for long if anybody would actually be naked -- right there, at the entrance, sitting on the second stool from the doorway, was a naked guy. Totally nude, facing the stairs -- talk about in your face! I have to say, he had the biggest cock I've ever seen -- had to be six inches, limp. I whispered to Dani, "There's no way I'd ever let that freaky thing get anywhere near going inside me!" She giggled and nodded. Jessi and Ally's eyes practically bugged out of their heads.

The bar and the deejay booth formed a narrow covered "L," the rest of the club was uncovered dance floor. The outer walls of the building came up between waist and shoulder high, shielding any R-rated view from the streets below. There was very little furniture: a few benches in one corner, and a single row of small waist-high tables around the rest of the perimeter.

The dance floor looked about half full. Several benches and tables had unattended drinks and piles of clothes, some neatly folded, some in messy heaps, all in some sort of unspoken honor system. The deejay mixed for the dancers, a thumping beat flowing seamlessly from one tune to the next.

Several couples on the dance floor had taken their shirts off, and some also had their shorts off. Some of the ladies without shirts wore bikini tops or bras, some were topless. Two girls danced by themselves, one wearing panties and nothing else, the other wearing Daisy Duke jean shorts. Big dick guy seemed to be the only completely naked person there. But wait, near the other end of the bar, there were two naked ladies, a guy in his tighty-whities, and a naked guy -- I hadn't seen them at first because they were surrounded by clothed people.

We bellied up to the bar and ordered. While we waited for our drinks, I noticed a very attractive foursome, fully dressed. They left the dance floor, went over to the side, and sipped their drinks. The guys took off their shirts, they all chatted a minute, then the guys took off their shorts. The girls held their arms up, and the guys pulled their dresses over their heads, revealing some cute bra/panty sets. What a great move -- having their partners undress them was

very

sexy. The guys reached around to undo the girls' bras, but they brushed their hands away and led the guys back out onto the dance floor.

We collected our drinks, found an open table, and stood for a while, observing and getting a feel for the place. Daisy Duke girl was by far the most energetic dancer, setting quite a high energy level, and along with some great tunes from the deejay, the dancing was quite lively.

One of the shirtless guys paused dancing a moment, and took off his shorts. His lady took off her shorts and her bikini top, leaving her only in her panties. He raised his eyebrows at her, silently asking, "all the way?" but she shook her head. He pulled off his briefs anyway. They stowed their clothes, took long sips of their drinks, and rejoined the dancing. A song later, she took off her panties.

I was ready to take my dress off -- well, almost. You'd think that having already been naked by the pool, taking off my clothes here would be a piece of cake. It wasn't. It felt completely different -- maybe because anyone in Key West with an ID could come up here, while the pool was limited to guests with room keys. Or maybe it was because at the pool everyone was naked but here, many people were dressed, and many of them obviously had no intention of taking any clothes off. I was determined, though, that I would not leave this place until I had been naked.

It would have been easier to strip in stages, but by being so brash when we got dressed and going without a bra or panties, I had no options -- it was all or nothing. I gave myself a lengthy pep-talk and led my friends onto the dance floor.

The energy of dancing to the non-stop deejay mix helped me shed my inhibitions. I lifted the hem of my dress, inch by inch, until it was just short of showing that I wore nothing underneath. I danced that way for a minute and dropped it. Dani did the same. Jessi and Ally pulled their dresses up to their waists, showing their panties, and danced that way for several minutes before they released them. There might be hope for them -- they looked like they were enjoying themselves.

I reeled up my dress again, pulling it up to my waist in the back, letting it droop in the front, revealing my ass and that there was no elastic from any sort of thong. My butt tingled -- it felt like a thousand eyes were staring holes into it. I turned a slow circle, displaying my ass to everyone in the club. Dani pulled her dress up to her waist front and back for half a minute, then dropped it.

We both pulled our dresses up, bunching around our waists, and continued dancing, our asses and pussies exposed. If anyone noticed, they didn't visibly react, and I found that calming. Even so, I tingled below the waist. My private bits shouted "cover us the hell up!" but I ignored them. Jessi and Ally pulled their dresses up, too, exposing their panties. Ally was facing away from me, so I grabbed her panties and yanked them down to her knees. She dropped her hem, laughing, but scowled at me with her eyes. While she pulled her panties up, Dani pulled Jessi's down, almost to her ankles -- you'd think she would have seen that coming.

It was time. I gulped and made eye contact with Dani, silently asking, "Ready?" She nodded, looking every bit as uneasy as I felt. I stopped dancing, drew a deep breath, and held my arms up. I thought it looked incredibly sexy when those girls had their guys undress them like that, and to defy my inner voice, which kept telling me to cover up and go home, I wanted to do something especially sensuous. While I struggled not to chicken out, Dani took my dress by the hem and lifted, slowly, steadily, dramatically, up past my thighs, hips, waist, boobs, and finally over my head. Naked girl on the dance floor! She held her arms up, looking nearly as panicked as I felt, and I pulled her dress off as theatrically as she had done mine.