Journey to St. Jeanne Pt. 07

I walked down the aisle towards my seat. I was actually petrified. Passengers were generally careful not to gape and in any case there were naked women in front of me and behind me. Part of me felt proud to join my Coletta and Jeanette sisters. Everything was vivid to me. The sensation of the airplane air on my skin, the carpet on the soles of my feet. This was the first time anyone apart from Terry had seen me naked in a very long time. I found my seat, by the window, and had to squeeze past a very understanding gentleman. I slipped and my breasts brushed his face, I could feel his beard hair. As I passed him, I was conscious of my unprotected private parts. Some tiny part of all of this was arousing to me. Would this be evident? Would someone catch my scent? I sat down on the comfortable flat cushion left on all seats for females. I still felt the cool leather on my back. My fellow passenger nodded to me and introduced himself as Philippe. By his decorum, I knew he was a Coletto, but his accent confirmed it to me. He could tell that I hadn't fully reached an appropriate level of comfort so did not engage me in conversation for which I was grateful.

I tried to relax but my heart was pumping. This was the craziest thing I've done and I've done plenty. I was completely uncovered, barefoot. I was going to be like this for three long months and who knows, perhaps longer, maybe a lot longer. I couldn't wait to get there, see what it was like. Imagine living full time, all year round in a tropical paradise. Maybe I would fall in love. With the place I mean. Maybe I wouldn't want to leave. I looked down at my uncovered skin, between my breasts, my pudenda fully visible. All of it on display for the foreseeable. I shivered, even though the air temperature was just right. I buckled in and had a wry smile to myself to notice that even the airplane seatbelts were transparent. A solid clear plastic buckle on clear plastic straps. Nothing should be allowed to cover or conceal the female body.

It wasn't long before we were in the air and the flight attendants made their way through the plane with refreshments. When she reached Philippe and I, our first sight was of her perfect shaped smoothly hairless pubic mound and neat slit, then upon looking up, her impressive breasts and only after that her pretty smiling face and I saw that it was the attendant who had greeted me as I boarded. She introduced herself as Monique. It was still early but when she offered me champagne, I gladly accepted, my nerves still needed steadying. Something about the after effects of the morning aperitif, my abbreviated night's sleep and the background white noise was enough to send me to a deep sleep. When I woke, the plane was filled with light streaming from the left hand side of the plane. I looked around and could see many people asleep. I noticed Philippe beside me snoozing under a blanket. It seems that blankets were only provided for male passengers which I suppose was fair enough. I stretched, in so far as I could without disturbing Philippe and I got up and eased past him to stroll up the aisle.

I needed to use the toilet but I also wanted to stretch my legs. I was aware that my crotch was at head height and I would be offering aisle passengers a similar view of my pussy as I had of Monique's. So be it. I would have to get used to it and in fairness, in my admittedly limited experience, Philippe's countrymen were, like him, chivalry personified. In fact I noticed Outremer travellers to be more uncomfortable making direct eye contact or seeming to stare at me. I guess from a young age, men on Les Soeurs know the appropriate way to look at a naked woman. Strolling naked down the aisle in front of all these people was an experience which oscillated between intensely liberating and oddly unnerving. But it was necessary. If I was to become comfortable in my skin, I would need this to become normal to me. I wasn't entirely sure that would be the case but as close to normal as possible would do.

It wasn't long after I returned to my seat, my temporary travelling companion blinking awake, that the pilot informed us that we would be entering St Colette airspace presently and the flight attendants would be passing through the plane to collect all travelling garments. She thanked us for flying St. Colette Air and it occurred to me that, of course, she had spent the entire journey, like me, naked alongside her clothed male co-pilot. I couldn't resist a certain self-satisfied smugness that I had handed over my own travel dress before boarding as I observed the ungainly movement and awkward limbs of my fellow Outremer female passengers undressing. It didn't take too long for all travel dresses to be gathered up and now, though we had not landed yet, it was clear that we had arrived on Les Soeurs. I looked around. Every female on board was naked, every male clothed. It was quite a sight. I had seen plenty of photos. Now I got to experience it for real.

I looked out my window and there they were. Three green islands fringed with golden sand surrounded by a glittering blue sea. St. Colette, the largest island in the middle, its mountain the tallest peak of the archipelago, I could make out St. Jeanne's inland lakes and St. Josephine's steep cliffs. The plane swept around and approached St. Collette. In no time at all we would touch down at Aéroport Les Trois Soeurs. Though on St. Colette and run by the St. Colette administration, it was generally considered by islanders to be shared among the three islands and dedicated to all three of the sisters who, according to legend, founded the islands. My heart was pounding, we were reaching our destination, this was happening for real.

The plane landed on the tarmac and something came over me, a kind of zen calm. It was hard to pin down but it was like a deeply reassuring sensation just at the periphery of my consciousness, some sort of encouragement that I happened to find myself exactly where I was supposed to be. I stood up and the hitherto cold leather of the back of the seat seemed reluctant to release its embrace. Unlike perhaps slightly less than half the plane's occupants, I had no overhead luggage to fetch. I observed a good portion of flustered menfolk, seeking out bags and suitcases, nascent sweat patches forming under their arms. In that moment it struck me, instead of seeing the issue of female nudity on Les Soeurs in the conventional Outremer manner, as some sort of restriction on the rights of females, perhaps a better way of seeing it was as a restriction on the rights of males. We women were not free to be clothed, we were obliged by law and customs to be nude at all times, but we were also free to be nude in a way that menfolk were not. No matter the situation, no matter the weather, no matter the temperature, men must stay covered up.

I looked around the plane and saw lots of relaxed female faces. For sure, we outremer women were slightly fearful of what awaited when we disembarked. Some of us were more ready than others for the adventures that beckoned. But on the whole, we were comfortable, unhindered. I felt a lightness of spirit. I was always one of the first to stand up as soon as the plane landed, ready to grab my luggage so I could leave but I felt no such urgency. I was keen to see Les Soeurs. I was excited to meet Roni who would be at Arrivals to greet me, but, unlike the Jenny of previous flights, I knew standing and jostling was not going to make that happen any quicker. I bided my time and when things started moving joined the queue of clothed males and naked barefoot females of all shapes and sizes. I ended up queuing alongside Abigail who seemed pleased to see me. The whole situation being somewhat disconcerting for her, one semi-familiar face presumably provided some comfort. She struggled with her arms and I reminded her to just allow them hang beside her body, to look at the native Jeannette, Coletta, and, I was startled to notice by their collars and cuffs and generally submissive attitude to their male consorts, Josephine women. They were at ease being naked, it was a state of nature for them. We exhaled together and proceeded. There was a small amount of jostling and the woman behind me was pushed against me causing me to collide with Abigail. I apologised but somehow the feeling of slightly clammy skin sandwiching me was not unwelcome. The woman stepped back and apologised, but the feeling of her breasts on my back was unexpected but not unpleasant.

Finally we reached the exit door and the warm air hit me. It enveloped my body. It was sensational, magical even. I was almost in a daze. There was an elevated walkway covered by an open canopy connecting the plane to the terminal building and the shade was most welcome. The sun bounced off the light grey surface of the runway. The sky was a brilliant blue. Everything was vivid. There were palms closer to the terminal that alleviated the arid effect immediately leaving the plane and the airport terminal itself was unlike any I had been to before. Plants everywhere, just an incredibly welcoming vibe and everywhere I looked, beautiful naked female bodies. Big bums, small bums, tiny tits, large breasts, slim athletic figures, curvy women with child bearing hips. I noticed the family from the departure lounge. The mother fearful but warming to Les Soeurs perhaps, the daughter striding purposefully, willing passersby to admire her pert teenage body. I noticed she still had her converse trainers on, she might have been the only female without bare feet in the entire airport.

Once again, I was thankful to Roni to have made my procession through security, immigration and customs a breeze. I noticed a family's luggage being searched, a naked female customs officer holding aloft a pink tshirt quizzically and the nude mother frantically flicking through her phone, her sullen teenage son standing uselessly beside her with his headphones in, to confirm that the item was not, in fact, an item of prohibited female clothing but instead belonged to her son and featured his favourite band. As I passed I could see the relief on her face as she triumphantly brandished the phone displaying said son wearing said item at a party. I walked through to arrivals and there, with a huge sign saying "Jenny" and with love hearts drawn beside was the smiling face of a strikingly green haired Roni.

"Hey chica!"

"Hi there"

We embraced and I felt her warm skin against mine. We stood apart and took each other in. She was slightly smaller than I imagined but all the cuter for it. Her fingernails and toenails painted lime green. There was something utterly natural about the way she stood, completely nude and carefree. I wasn't quite there yet but I so wanted to be.

"How was the flight, you look fantastic!"

"Oh, thanks, the flight was great, I managed to nap and I feel recharged. You look stunning too. I love your hair!"

"haha, I like to change it up once in a while. Come, I'll get the car to come around."

She tapped on her bangle and that seemingly was sufficient to alert the driver.

"By the way, did you remember to apply sunscreen?"

"I completely forgot"

"Never mind, let me show you something cool."

She walked over to this sort of frame, like an open doorway without a wall. She pressed her bangle against it and stood in a star shape looking back at me smiling as this light mist enveloped her.

"Now, you try."

"I stood in a similar pose and felt this refreshing mist cling to me, every part of me, even between my legs."

"Cool huh?"

"For sure."

"We have them all over the islands. Saves a lot of hassle!"

I looked around and saw many more of these sunscreen doorways. I looked up and was startled to see an advertisement for a perfume brand featuring a well known supermodel sitting, legs apart unabashed facing the camera, her labia slightly parted. Roni noticed the effect it had on me.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. We have advertisements here like everywhere else but full nudity is a requirement. It is not a legal requirement that genitals be displayed but it is considered extremely bad luck if they're not. I looked around and saw an advertisement for men's swim shorts which featured a closeup of said shorts which took up slightly less space than the closeup of an obviously unadorned crotch of the woman standing slightly in front and to the side of him. There was something geometrically pleasing about the angles of her pudenda and slit.

"Little details, huh?"

"I suppose, I guess I'm not used to seeing these sorts of thing in such vivid detail."

"But you can see the mathematical beauty?"

It was like she read my mind

"Yes! that was what struck me."

"Here on the islands, people take this very seriously and I didn't quite get it at first but I completely understand this now. There is an inherent beauty in the female body, any female body and it becomes evident when you really look at it. Don't worry, you'll get it."

"I guess!"

We left the building and waited for our driver to swing around. I saw the famous statues of the three nude women who founded the islands. Three times life size. Colette standing in the middle, palms out in greeting, her breasts full, her legs slightly parted unabashedly displaying her smooth mons veneris and neat slit. Her warrior sister Jeanne to her right, kneeling with one knee down and a sword placed across her raised knee. From below you could see her labia parting dynamically. Their youngest sister Josephine, in what we now call a slave pose, sat on her heels with her knees apart, displaying her sex, wrists tied together behind her back. She had a peaceful expression which strangely didn't seem at odds with the collar around her neck or the real steel chain that connected it to the ground.

Our car arrived and I was pleased to discover a cool interior, the white leather slightly sticky against my skin when we sat down. The driver was a middle aged guy, Thierry, with platinum close cropped hair and a beard of similar length and colour. He had on a grey linen shirt and dark grey linen trousers. He was somewhat taciturn but interjected every now and then to agree with some point Roni was making. I found her magnetic. I just knew from our previous communications that we would get on so well but I was so happy to be in her company and hung on her every word like a schoolgirl with a crush. We drove through winding palm lined roads, through bumpy cobbled streets and arrived at the Vagabond Motel. It was ironically named I think. It had a beautiful historical facade, cut stone and framed windows with deep reveals and cast iron railings but either side sprung gleaming modern slabs of alternating glass and black stone all overlooking tropical but manicured gardens. I looked up and was a little taken aback to note the fully glazed floors behind which were many naked women, some sitting down, some walking around, some standing by the window. On the black stone floors above, I could see the barest outline of male figures at the tinted glass windows.

"I'll show you inside Jenny, it really is quite stunning."

We checked in, there was a rather handsome young man in a white polo and navy slacks at the desk. Roni's manner with him was surprisingly flirtatious. He gave us our keys, we had adjoining rooms on the fourth floor. It turned out that the custom on St. Colette and in this hotel in particular is to have separate floors for male and female guests. There were procedures in place when men visited women's floors and vice versa. When we got out of the lift I could see why.

"Wow!"

"Cool, isn't it?"

It literally took my breath away. I looked down the corridor. There were maybe twelve rooms on this wing, six on each side but there were no solid walls anywhere, that I could see. Every wall was glass. Behind the glass were various female guests. This one just out of the shower, this one lying on her bed, the next sitting in her chair. Roni found our rooms and we went to mine first. There was a spectacular vista from the fully glazed facade across the gardens, over the roofs of the town out to the bright blue sea. There was a pair of armchairs, a hammock and a large bed with no pillows and what looked like just one sheet covering it, wrapped tight.

"Bed's just for sex."

"What?"

"Yeah, you'll find that people here tend to use hammocks for sleeping. Nobody spends the night in a bed unless they're not getting any sleep, if you know what I mean!"

She said it with a little laugh that was contagious. As we spoke, we could see a slim petite naked redhead walking down the corridor with two burly dark-suited men. Roni motioned her head towards them as if to say, "see?". The woman let the two guys into the room further down the corridor and I noticed one of them press on a little clicker. Immediately her room was opaque, the walls milky, the barest outline of silhouettes visible through the adjoining room.

"Privacy pads to make the walls opaque are only made available to male guests. Pretty much the only reason to do this is for sex so our fellow guest down there is probably in for a fun time with her two friends."

"Two guys at once?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Wow, did you, I mean, ever?"

"Have sex with two guys at the same time? Sure"

I was seeing another side of Roni but strangely it was a side I liked just as much as the one I already knew

"Oh wow, and what's that like?"

"Better than sex with one guy at a time, I'll tell you that!"

I pictured myself, behind milky walls, on all fours, sucking a lovely thick cock and the guy behind me licking my ass and then putting his cock between my ass cheeks and up my ass as his friend goes deeper down my throat. It is a strikingly arousing image and I'm a few steps along before I realise that I'm imagining anal sex instead of vaginal. Terry certainly did a number on me with his relentless anal focus over the last few years. It's almost like he reprogrammed me. Whether I liked it or not, this was the default sex as far as my mind was concerned for the moment.

"You still with us there Jenny, you look like you zoned out for a while"

"Haha, sorry, I was actually imagining having sex with two guys."

"Oh don't worry, I'm sure you'll get around to making that happen some time soon."

"Not on St. Jeanne though."

She laughed.

"Hoo boy, definitely not on St. Jeanne."

I continued my visual survey of the room. I noticed a discreet low partition around the toilet and was thankful for privacy for those functions at least. I didn't notice any towels anywhere and asked Roni as much.

"We don't really do towels here, sheets either. Basically anything big enough or flexible enough to wrap around the female body is a complete no-no."

"So how do I dry myself?"

"Let me show you."

She walked through to the shower and turned it on. She winked at me as she soaped and lathered her body. She really was stunning and so comfortable in her skin. I just admired her and watching her shower was such a delightful treat. She was careful in her lathering never to cover her skin too thickly and I noted this attention to detail. Her nipples were brown and plump, her pussy lips slightly engorged and parting. She rinsed herself down and looked deliciously wet. Then she looked me in the eye, smiling again and pressed a button. I heard this whooshing sound and she stood steady, shaking her arms and wiggling her feet. I watched as her slick almost reflective wet skin took on a more matt appearance and she beckoned me towards her, inviting me to touch her skin. I daren't touch her anywhere else but the side of her waist which was dry to the touch.

"See?"

"Can I try?"

"It's your room"

I turned the shower on, felt the water wash over me, I lathered up as scrupulously as Roni did and was pleased to see she approved. It was weird washing in front of a friend, a platonic friend. Platonic for now anyway. But it was nice. I could tell that she considered me to be attractive, she appreciated my body, my face, the way I carried myself, and the way I washed myself. She didn't look away. Terry never looked at me that way. I mean I was right there for him. A young slim naked woman with a smooth hairless pussy, just like all the girls in his pornos. I wouldn't have minded him watching me instead and jerking off but he never did. He preferred to shove his cock into me at the earliest opportunity. I rinsed off, keeping eye contact with Roni and then I felt the warm curtain of dry air from the ceiling. It was comforting. I just waited, wiggled and was done.