The Non-Nudist Nude Nun

Without the cooling wind, Bertrille was feeling the hot, humid, Caribbean sun on her totally exposed body. It made her aware of the part of her it didn't hit her, her pubic hair. But this, too, seemed to be warming.

The longer she walked down the slope, the more she wished she had her bra on. Her breasts were young, firm and on the smallish side, but they still bounced. And thinking of them, she was also reminded that other, less softer, parts of her jiggled. "I won't be the only one," she told herself. And blushed. It didn't have her feeling better at the thought of being surrounded by others who also bounced and jiggled (and who knew what else the hedonists did).

As if walking on a tightrope, she kept her eyes ahead, neither turning right nor left She fixed her gaze on the nearest door of the nearest building. Inside there were probably fewer sun worshippers. She prayed.