Key West Hospitality

"You're going to sweat to death, sitting in that car," said Tracee, sticking her head in through the window. "Stop being such a pussy about it and come on." She stood up, waiting for Charles to get out the car.

"Get a move on, Chuck." she goaded him as he slowly exited the driver's seat. "Be a man of your word." She hoisted her messenger bag on her caramel shoulders, swatting at unseen buzzing.

Charles removed himself from the driver's seat, evidence of the heat apparent on the lower half of his t-shirt. He donned a pair of shades and took a cursory look around the small parking lot. Grabbing a large beach towel and his backpack out of the backseat, he locked the doors and joined Tracee on the other side of the car.

"Remind me why I'm doing this again?" He pulled at his shirt, trying to separate the dampening cotton from his skin. His thickening waistline protruded and he gave it a shake. Four cans short of a six-pack, letting his gym membership go to waste, today's outing made him just that more awkward.

"Because," explained Tracee. "We've done everything on your stupid little list and before we get on the road, you are going to oblige me this one time." She started towards the highway.

"Hey, we did some stuff that you wanted to do." He took off after her, making sure he left nothing behind. "I tried the Key Lime Pie, remember."

"Bullshit. I followed you around Key West this week drinking Mojitos, which are fucking disgusting, hearing you ramble on about Hemingway and doing the tourist thing like a good friend." Tracee stopped in her tracks, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun to look at him. "Eating Key Lime Pie was an afterthought."

"You really didn't like the Mojitos?" He grinned, fanning himself at the same time.

"Bring your ass on," She kept walking.

Charles and Tracee were friends from way back when, about as close as friends could get. Tracee came out to him before her own parents were informed. Charles has Tracee to thank for losing his virginity in college, her wing-man skills were top-notch. At his behest, she coincided her vacation time to take a road trip with him to the Southernmost end of the US to Key West, Florida. He was suffering from writer's block and thought traipsing around Ernest Hemingway's old stomping grounds could get his creative juices flowing. He was used to her dry wit and biting humor, took her good-nature ribbing with stride. He played the straight man, no pun intended, in this comedic duo.

"The sun," growled Charles. "This is different from what we get in Atlanta." He began form a haphazard turban around his head and shoulders with the towel. "And that rumor about Black folk not getting sunburned is total bullshit. I can feel my skin cooking already.

"I have sunblock, and tampons too. You're really acting like you could use one." Tracee picked up her pace, determined to make him follow whether he wanted to or not.

"Fine." He surrendered to her demands and followed the sway of her hips, crossing the steaming asphalt and into the woods. "And I thought road-tripping with a lesbian would be a blast."

Tracee led the way through the patch of forest, walking down a well-worn path. They broke through the treeline and was greeted by white sands and clear waters.

"Not bad." said Charles, coming abreast of Tracee as they took in the view.

"Just as she said it would look."

"She?" Charles looked around for signs of other life. He was intrigued, she always found the cream of the crop when it came to the social scene. Perhaps she snagged a date during one of his multiple trips to the bathroom.

"You'll see."

They stepped onto the beach, the sun high in the sky. The sands were devoid of people but they kept walking until coming upon a state sign, Beyond this point you may encounter nude sunbathers.

"Not much further." Tracee said as she skipped in between the boulders.

Rounding the bend, Charles quickly averted his eyes. A pot-bellied man, wearing sandals, and nothing else, was flying a kite. He skin was a coarse bronze, more hair on his chest and arms than his head, his flaccid penis sitting in a tuft of pubes, resembling a lone robin's egg in the nest. Tracee paid him no mind, a cursory nod as she strolled past. Damn, thought Charles, no shame in his game. At least I won't be the fattest guy on the beach.

"I still can't believe that you want to do this." Charles stumbled on a rock, cutting a wide berth from the naked man.

"Not too many places in Georgia where you can," she said. "I just want the experience of being one with nature, one time."

More people were present, the further they walked. All sans clothing. A few people had those five days a week in the gym bodies, but most were flabby like him. Some were rotund, but nobody pointed and giggled. It was easy to tell the ones that spent most of their days on the outside from those that bought their shades from a spray or a booth.. Tracee and Charles stuck out like sore thumbs, still fully attired, the only people with permanent tans.

"Tracee, over here!" yelled a voice in the crowd.

She grabbed Charles by the elbow and pointed. "This way, Chuck."

He followed, eyes darting back and forth, taking in the concentrated nudity behind the safety of his sunglasses. Beach goers were sunbathing, playing badminton and soccer, all the things that usually occurred during a nice sunny day on the beach, except without clothes. Not a fucking stitch. One group of four was enjoying a picnic of sandwiches and fruit, pieces of mayo and lettuce falling freely on the sand and each other. One man plucked an escaped tomato from his thigh and stuffed it back into the roll. Charles shook his head in amazement.

"Hey, Dawn," Charles practically ran into the back of her as she greeted the voice from earlier.

He was too busy eye fucking a petite Blonde, watching the bounce of her breasts as she ran after a stray Frisbee, until another prod by Tracee brought him back to the present.

"Charles, this is Dawn." She stepped to the side. "She was the one that told me about this place."

"You look mighty uncomfortable, Charles" said Dawn. He looked down at the person talking to him and visibly swallowed.

Dawn was sitting cross-legged on her towel, staring up at him. A stunning redhead wearing a welcoming smile, and nothing else. She was tanned like a native, didn't have that burnt orange shade from the tanning salon. Her breasts were natural, hanging low from beneath her sculpted arms. A natural redhead, her thin strip of carpet matched the drapes. He cocked his head to the side, trying to remember where he saw her before, when it hit him.

"Oh, I know you." She was the bartender from Sloppy Joes, who supplied him with endless supply of potent Mojitos and friendly banter.

"The way you put away that rum last night, I'm surprised you remember me." She brushed grains of sand off her thighs, giving him a full view of her vagina. "Never thought you would see all of this before the first date, huh?" Her breasts swayed freely as she laughed, leaning back onto her towel. He stood there like a statue, unsure of how to proceed. Should he shake her hand, or just nod? Even behind the dark shades, it was obvious that he couldn't pull his eyes away from her massive globes. She answered for him.

"Cop a squat, you're blocking my light."

Tracee was already spreading out her blanket, kicking off her sandals and laying down to the right of Dawn. He followed suit sitting on the opposite side. He had no qualms of parting with his sweaty t-shirt, but left his shorts on.

"Welcome to Boca Chica," said Dawn. "Our little secret in Key West."

"I'm so glad you told me about this spot," said Tracee, reaching behind her neck to undo the string on her bikini. "I had this on my to-do list for the longest."

"Charles doesn't look as enthralled as you." Dawn turned to look at him.

"Nudity isn't really my thing, but you guys go ahead."

"Try not to drool."

"He's such a prude, but don't let that bother you, Dawn." She let her top fall, her perky breasts staying in place. Charles's mouth fell open, the first time he's seen his friend topless.

"Girl, you have amazing breasts." said Dawn, turning her attention back to Tracee. " Reminds me of mine before gravity took over. You better lotion up, you don't want those things to burn. The sun is fierce down here."

"Told you." quipped Charles, digging in his bag for his notepad and pen. He's been working on a plot twist in his latest tale, rewriting the same scene for the umpteenth time.

Tracee pulled out a bottle of sunblock and squeezed some of the lotion over her torso before throwing it at Charles. "You better put some on too. I don't want to hear you bitching on the ride home."

Charles picked up the bottle and began to lotion himself up. He used too much, working feverishly to get the white smears to dissipate.

"First timer?" asked Dawn as she reached over and began to help him, rubbing the excess on his bald head and neck, down to his shoulders and back. She was surgical, spreading it all over his exposed areas with a quickness.

"I smell like a coconut."

"You are a coconut," teased Tracee as she flipped onto her stomach. "Dawn, can you cover my back?"

"Sure, Darling." She took her already greased hands and began to apply the extra sunscreen to her new friend's back.

As Charles kept rubbing he took another look around. While most people were doing there thing, he caught a couple of wandering eyes in their direction. Not that he could blame them., Tracee kept her body in pristine condition, a rounded ample ass that got double takes, even when she was wearing pants, surgically untouched breasts that needed no bra. She was a total package, while he was in desperate need of a makeover. Undefined arms, portly midsection, and a facial hair he struggled to maintain on a daily basis.

Charles stopped rubbing his arms, instead watching Dawn's hands trace a shiny path down to the small of Tracee's back and creeping up the rise of her ass. Instantly, his dick pushed against his shorts, a noticeable bulge upon his thigh.

"This is waterproof, right?" he asked to nobody in particular. Jumping up, he ran down to the shoreline, plunging into the surf, swimming until he was chest deep in the water. He could see them on the beach, Dawn applying sunscreen to Tracee's ass and thighs. He groaned, trying to move his cock around in a more suitable position.

Dawn waved to him and he waved back, but stayed in the surf. After about fifteen minutes of being beat up by the waves, he saw Dawn rise up off the blanket, say something to Tracee and began walking towards him.

He didn't notice her shape behind the bar, with all her clothes on, but she had all of his attention now. She didn't look like his buddy's type, Tracee were more into the models with silicone tits and plastic attitudes. Dawn was very comfortable, easily strolling past the throngs on beach goers, pausing to give a hug or a brief word to someone she knew. Her smile was genuine as she ran a hand through her hair, talking to two guys. He moved a little closer to the shore, tired of the rabbit punches the ocean delivered.

Dawn met him halfway in the surf, standing a few inches from him.

"Can't control the hard-on?" she asked, poking his thigh underwater, making him jump. She laughed at his timidness, giving a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Not everyday I'm on a nude beach."

Dawn dipped lower in the water, wetting her mane of hair. "Nobody is going to crucify you for an erection, unless you stick it where it's not wanted."

"How can everyone be so cool, walking around naked?" He subconsciously moved his dick around in his shorts. "I never even streaked in college."

"Our bodies are nothing to be ashamed about. I've been doing this since I was a teenager." She ran her hands through the water in a swimming motion. "Free your mind from society's rules and you'll see how easy it is."

"I don't know." He fingered the band on his trunks. "I can't stop staring. Tits, ass, that's a lot to take in at one time."

"It's not a contest, we aren't here to judge, just enjoy."

"So, ten inches of cock swings past and you're telling me you won't give it a second glance?"

"Well, yeah, I'm gonna look, but getting nude isn't a purely sexual thing."

"Never saw it like that." He played with the strings on his trunks.

"Are you worried about what Tracee might think? Or me?" She moved closer to him, reaching underwater for his hand.

"Maybe."

"Charles, it's cool. Free yourself." She reached for the button on his shorts.

He didn't move as she unclasped it, he felt them slip South, the tide tugging at the material. His erection lessened as the shorts cascaded down his legs. He ducked underwater to retrieve them before they got away and stood, naked as the day he was born, his lower half partially hidden by the waves.

"How do you feel?"

"Naked."

"Well, you might want to come out of the water. We had warnings of Jellyfish the other day and you really don't want to get stung, do you?"

Charles looked around, realizing that they were the only two people in the water, and beat a hasty retreat back to the shore. The thought of a Jellyfish sting on his balls took his mind off the fact he was completely nude. When they got back to the towel, Tracee was devoid of her own bottoms, eyes closed, MP3 buds wedged in her ears, oblivious to his nudity.

"Now what?" he asked Dawn.

"Do whatever you were doing before you lost your shorts." She sat back on her blanket, applying another coat of sunscreen to her torso. "Oh yeah, you might want to put some block on that." she added, nodding towards his softening penis. "Not exactly ten inches, but I'll take another look."

"I wasn't talking about me, but thanks."

He applied a little more sunscreen to his thighs and pelvic area, trying not to spend too much time on his cock. When he was finished, he wiped his hands on his towel, put on his shades again and retrieved his pad.

"Tracee told me you're an author?" Dawn faced him, leaning on an elbow.

"Until I get published, I'm just a writer."

"That's fair. What do you write?"

"I've been working on a mystery novel, but I'm having difficulty with the storyline." He shook the pen, trying to get the ink to flow. "I took this trip for a little inspiration, get some ideas." He put pen to paper but couldn't find any words.

"You aren't writing." The more Dawn stared, the more he had to fight the impending erection.

"Too much on my mind, I guess."

He felt the blood flow increase to his cock and tried to hide it with his notebook.

"Let it go, Charles." She sat up, facing him cross-legged. "You're not the first guy to get a hard-on here." He sighed and moved the pad, his cock rising to full-mast.

"Now that we got that out the way, tell me about your story."

He began to talk, an attentive Dawn hanging onto his every word. She looked him in the eyes as he spun the tale he's been working on for the past three months. When he was through, he was soft again.

"That sounds like a great start."

"I'm glad you think so, but it's too one-dimensional for me." He put his pad down, and leaned back on his hands, giving anyone who wanted a wide open look at his privates.

"Shit," said Tracee, bolting up from her prone position. "I'm getting baked over here." She pulled the buds from her ear and turned towards Dawn and Charles. "Whoa," she said, openly staring at his dick for the first time. "When did that happen?"

"From birth." said Charles with a snark. "You act like you've never seen one before."

"Congratulations, you've been promoted from pussy to prick." She smiled, giving him a golf clap. She began to check her arms and torso.

"Do you prefer Charles, or Chuck?" asked Dawn. "I noticed that Tracee calls you both."

"She does it to fuck with me, her way of calling me a blockhead, like Charlie Brown. Charles is too formal anyway."

"I like Charles, it's regal. It always looks better on a book cover."

"I think Chuck stands out, in bold type," said Tracee spacing her hands apart to demonstrate.

"I need to finish the book before I worry about names." He wrote down a couple of lines on his pad, getting a few bursts of ideas. The sun beat down onto the beach, some people had set up a makeshift lean-to or pulled out umbrellas.

"Do you guys want to get out of the heat for awhile?" asked Dawn "I don't want you guys to burn too badly."

"Sure, said Tracee, reaching for her bottoms. She stood up, giving Charles an unobstructed view. She was cleanly shaved, a protruding clitoris that stood guard, proud above her slit. He licked his lips.

"Charles was telling me about his book, and if you guys are adventurous, I have a spot I think you may be interested in. We have to cross the highway, so unfortunately, we have to get dressed."

All three stood, putting on their clothes, Charles opting for just his shorts and sandals, Dawn in a revealing two-piece that barely contained her breasts, and Tracee wrapping a sheer Sarong around her waist.

Dawn led the trio farther down the beach, crossing the two lane road and into another small strand of trees.

"We have to be very careful because this is Naval property." said dawn keeping her voice to a low murmur.

"Can we get into trouble?" asked Charles

"I've never been caught, so I can't say."

Tracee slapped at a mosquito, pushing some palm fronds out of the way. The forest got thicker, but Dawn walked with conviction. Charles kept a lookout for alligators and snakes, trying to keep pace with the women.

Entering a clearing, Dawn waved her arms in a presenting manner. "Ta-DA"

There was a house, made completely of stone and ocean washed trees.

"Holy shit." said Charles "Who made this?"

"That's, the mystery," said Dawn "There is no information because the Navy owns it, so nobody knows about it, officially."

Tracee ducked under a low hanging branch and stood in the doorway. "It looks old."

"I found it as a teen, almost 20 years ago. My grandfather told me about it, he said it's survived every hurricane in his lifetime."

Charles entered the small room, discovering just a sandy floor and a few large rocks. He sat on the biggest one, trying to absorb everything he was seeing. Something some primitive that has stood the test of time and nature was a sight to behold.

"Doesn't look like too many people has been here." Tracee brushed sand off of a fallen log before taking a seat across from Charles."

"Just the locals, but we try not to leave any evidence." Dawn took a seat next to Tracee. "We even try to brush away our footprints, so the military doesn't get wise."

"I could use a place like this in my novel, maybe a safe house for the hero when things erupt."

"Speaking of your story, where's the romance?" asked Dawn.

"Huh?"

"From everything you've told me, it's a decent read, but where is the love? James Bond always gets the girl, even Rambo had a love interest in the sequel."

Tracee laughed. "Charles and his limited imagination; if it didn't happen to him, he can't write about it."

Charles grimaced as Tracee revealed his weakness. All the research in the world can't make up for his lack of experience, not that he hasn't tried.

"You're a virgin?" asked Dawn.

"No," he stated vehemently. "It's just not exciting enough to put down on paper."

"Don't tell me that you're the type that does it with the lights off and his socks on." she joked. "This beautiful women sitting next to me..."

"She plays for the other squad."

"Oh," Dawn put her fingers over her mouth, "Oh my, I'm sorry."

"Don't be." replied Tracee. "Charles is my best friend, my wing-man, my confidant, but sorely lacking the social graces of an Alpha male.