I needed a week away from the hustle and bustle of my New York investment banking job and had booked a weeklong trip to St. Martin, a beautiful island in the French West Indies. The stress at work had been piling on, but having just closed a merger deal I was feeling like some much needed rest and relaxation was in order.
On a Saturday morning in March, I arrived at JFK airport and checked in for my flight, wheeling along just a small carry-on with a few pairs of board shorts and enough essentials for the week. The hotel I had booked was located on Orient Beach, on the French side of the island, and I was looking forward to a week of sun, sand, drinks, and hopefully some beautiful women! Just a chance to get away for a week by myself and relax.
Waiting at the gate, I took a look around at the others waiting for the flight -- a few older couples and families, some Asian tourists, and a young group of college-aged girls already dressed in their beach coverups and bohemian jewelery. Great, I thought, they seem fun and it's a small island, maybe I'll see them around! The flight was set to board in twenty minutes, and I looked back down at my book to pass the time.
"Excuse me, are these seats taken?" I heard a woman's voice ask me. I looked up to see two women, probably in their early 40's, dressed in stylish beach wear, looking for a place to sit and wait for the flight. They seemed giggly, as if they had already hit the airport bar to take the edge off before the flight.
"Nope, all yours." I said.
"Thank you! Looks like we've got a full flight here today." The first woman said, rolling her bag up next to the seat as she and her friend sat down. She was blonde, wearing a straw cowboy-type hat and a turquoise cover up, looking ready to hit the beach as soon as she touched down. Her friend was a similarly tanned large breasted brunette wearing a long black cotton maxi dress and flip flops. I assumed from their Louis Vuitton luggage that they would be taking the next connecting flight to St. Bart's -- they seemed like cougars of the Hamptons-crowd variety, definitely attractive, but no rings in sight.
"I just needed a place to sit down for a second -- when your girlfriend gets back she can have her seat back." the blonde said.
"Ha, no girlfriend -- just a solo trip for me. Feel free." I replied. "So, are you guys headed to St. Bart's?"
"Love St. Bart's -- but nope, girl's trip to St. Martin. We do a week on Orient Beach each year, it's so beautiful and much lower-key. I'm Amanda, by the way, and this is my friend Michelle!" She motioned to the brunette. "How about you?"
"I'm Matt, nice to meet you guys. St. Martin as well for me -- I'm headed to Orient too as a matter of fact. Never been, but looking forward to unwinding a bit." I said.
"Oh you're going to love it!" Michelle chimed in, pushing her large breasts together slightly as she leaned into the conversation. "Where are you staying?"
"The Esmerelda, right on the beach. How about you?"
Amanda and Michelle looked at each other and giggled. "We're headed to Club Orient, right down the beach from where you are, actually!" Amanda said.
Now, one of the reasons I had chosen Orient Beach was its legendary clothing-optional status. I had always been kind of a closet nudist and was looking forward to ditching my swimsuit. Despite my heavy work schedule, I'm a fit 30 year old guy, and I figured it was now or never to show off a little bit, right?
"Look at you two! The nude resort, sounds like you guys will have fun this week!" I replied. Note to self, definitely try to meet up with these ladies this week!
"That's right -- no tan lines for us!" Michelle laughed. "We're looking forward to letting our hair down this week. I can't wait to hit the beach and grab a few cocktails. Maybe we'll see you out there, Matt."
"Oh I'm sure of it -- it's a small island, after all."
Arrival
The flight to the island was quick and otherwise uneventful, and the whole time I felt a pang of excitement from the possibility of seeing Amanda and Michelle nude, even though I was sure there would be plenty of more age-appropriate gorgeous girls out there. Upon landing, the trip through customs was quick and I headed to the cab line to get a car to my hotel.
My newfound friends were just stepping into a cab ahead of me, and Amanda smiled and waved when she saw me.
"Matt! Want to share a cab? We're headed to the same place, after all."
"Sure," I said, handing my bag to the cab driver to put in the trunk.
The three of us squeezed into the back seat and sped off toward our hotels on the French side of the island.
Amanda and Michelle gave me the lowdown on their favorite bars and restaurants in the Orient Bay area, but I noticed they were really emphasizing that they loved spending time at the far side of the beach, out in front of Club Orient. I think they were trying to be coy, but they seemed to be obviously trying to make sure I stopped by the nude side. I felt my cock thicken up slightly as Amanda described how she loved the Perch Bar, "which -- and you seem like the adventurous type -- you can go to totally nude if you like!" she noted.
"I'm not shy," I said, "it's a date, how about I meet you ladies there this afternoon? After all, I've got no real schedule today and it's always great to meet new friends."
