first, go to the shore

"I'm a tourist. Nudity is optional, not required."

"Fair enough."

The hotel was far from the tallest in the region—going a bit for expanse—but it was nonetheless several stories high. The resort had fallen a bit on hard times and was recently purchased by new investors. Originally its earlier owners prided it as exclusive, not clothing optional. The new owners decided to make it clothing optional for a year—already having the necessary bylaws changed and getting licenses, and see what would happen.

It became a bit disproportionately male—the pro-couples-and-women-only faction at the board meeting losing—in that round at least—making it a bit more than 5:4 (male : female); and many of the women there being wives or girlfriends, mostly clothed, or at least not nude: mostly returnees.

They already talked about this this morning. Cass insisted on being clothed and Linda didn't want to push it too much.

Despite being on the third floor and a stairs was next to the elevator, they took the latter.

The door opened to a couple, casually dressed, probably in their 50s; and two guys—maybe in their twenties: T-shirts, long shorts, and "mandals."

The two guys moved as if to invite Linda to take their spot. The couple wavered between looking at Linda and looking away. The two guys, however, had a far harder time taking their eyes off her.

The older woman looked at Linda and said, "I wish I was as brave as you."

"So do I," quipped the husband.

"William!" smiled the wife as she lightly slapped his shoulder—more of a very light tap.

The elevator opened to few people in the lobby. The doorman wished them a nice day as they left, but particularly noticing Linda.

There were more people outside. It was quite sunny as they walked south.

It took a little while before they saw another naked woman: petite with long blond hair (not covering her breasts) with an even tan; though she had the same kind of pink wristband as Linda, a necklace made of small shiny pebbles, a silver or chrome belly chain—a bit tight to compensate for her not-so-wide hips, but with 3-10 cm chain tassels on the right and 3 on the left side of the chain, and anklets beaded also with small shiny pebbles. Her breasts were A-sized, but her bare feet were very healthy-looking and well-formed: high arches, relatively straight toes, the type that were rarely shod.

"I love your outfit," joked the blond to Linda.

"Ditto yours," smiled Linda.

It was a nice day for going naked.

Linda moved a several tens of meters in a semi-dance, as if she was listening to some music in her head. Less than 30 minutes earlier, she was playing some JJ Cale, while singing a few lines: "Bow-legged woman doing the boogaloo. She got a jive, she got a move. Turn around quick. Do it again. Bow-legged woman, where you been?"

Of course there were the looks. Most to Linda, and it wasn't just more to Linda than Cass, but compared to most of the women there; but again, most were still clothed or somewhat clothed.

(video featuring what looks like chalk animation of naked women swimming.)

The beach was a bit rocky with a few patches of sandy area.

The breeze was warm, accentuating the sun.

"Shoot! I forgot the sunscreen!"

Cass reached in her shoulder bag and pulled out a bottle.

"Thanks, Cass."

She applied generous globs on her naked body, including, of course, her breasts and vulva. Was the over-a-half-minute of rubbing the lotion on her breasts and vulva done to work it in the skin, or was it just gratuitous (she seemed to be enjoying it), or both? Who knows?

Of course, had a little difficulty applying on the upper-middle part of her back.

A few guys stepped forward to do the honour.

"Here."

"Thanks, Cass."

Cass wore a wide brimmed hat with sunglasses on top, a black a one-piece with long white shirt and a towel as sarong-of-sorts, flip-flops, and the bag with strap on her opposite shoulder.

Linda thought she'd do a mini-tour of the rocky area. Cass, after taking off her flip-flops, joined her.