Whistler's Island

The BMW X5 slowed, stopped to wait for traffic to clear, then quickly turned left onto the short causeway that led onto Whistler's Island. Slowing again, it turned right into the gravel parking area and pulled into the first available spot close to the dune. It stopped and the engine shut off.

Inside, Wilma carefully picked up the rather large canvas bag she had brought, checked the surprisingly moderate bikini she had worn, which didn't really matter that much anyway, pulled the very gauzy and nearly transparent cover-up over her shoulders and stepped out of the car, locking the doors and putting the car keys, as she still called them despite the fact that they were annoyingly all electronic, carefully into the little pocket with the zipper that was on the inside of the bag. But she did leave the pocket unzipped. She crunched through the gravel till she reached the steps that carried her up over the dune, then down the matching steps on the far side. At the small kiosk she paused, took a small plastic card from that unzipped pocket and inserted it in the card reader. In an instant it buzzed, a green light turned on and she could hear the gate unlatch.

She pushed the gate open, stepped inside and bent to take off her sandals as she loved walking barefoot through the soft sand, even though it was a little hot today. She passed the concession stand and smiled at the girl behind the counter. Ahead of her stretched a lot of soft sand, and further down toward the ocean, the now bare hard sand as the tide was apparently out. And, there were people of course. Not as many people as were there some Saturdays which was fine with her, although, sometimes she actually enjoyed the larger crowd. A short walk and she selected a spot, took her towel from the bag and spread it carefully on the sand and sat down. She signed, reached around behind her and untied the straps holding the bikini top in place. She let the two shoulder straps slide down her arms, then took the top and folded it neatly before stowing it carefully in the bag.

Wilma was on WI1 as it was called, the first section of Whistler's Island beach. It was generally referred to as "clothing optional" but that was a little bit of a euphemism as what it actually meant was women were allowed to be topless there. Actually, there was really no "clothing optional" area as WI2 was totally nude as was, of course, WI3, where she had never been. But she was content right here for a while, letting the sun beat down on her body, and particularly her breasts. She had really just discovered this exhibitionist streak a few years ago, and, along with that, had discovered Whistler's Island where she could show herself to her heart's content. When it had first overtaken her, she had begun wearing revealing clothes to the mall, bending over a lot and letting people look down her very low neckline, but she found the island to be more satisfying and, despite the rush she got from the danger, she didn't need that now. She was also surprised a little and very content that all that took place here was watching, although she knew that in WI3 there was a little more than watching. She liked being watched. She had struck up a casual acquaintance with a pair of older couples but was a little wary of the younger males. Nothing had ever happened but she couldn't be too careful.

Since it was a very hot day, she didn't want her shoulder-length fairly dark brunette hair touching her shoulders, so she gathered it together high up on the back of her head, took the elastic band from the bag and snugged it around the hair making a cute little pony tail. Next came the sunscreen which she applied fairly liberally to every bit of skin that showed, particularly to her breasts which she knew were nice but anything but spectacular. If she gained three pounds, her B bras were a little tight and pushed too much of her up and outside of them. If she lost the three pounds, her C bras hung loosely and were uncomfortable. Whatever size they were, they didn't get quite as much time out in the light as most of the rest of her. Despite her trying to be as careful as possible, as she brushed over her nipples they immediately sprang to life, as they often did. Here, that was okay but other times she had to be a little more careful as they could almost have a mind of their own. She also hated smelling like a coconut, so her sunscreen was odorless and didn't mask the aroma of the cologne she loved to wear. And, sitting there glistening like she knew she was doing only made her more watchable and she did like being watched. Later she was sure she'd move to WI2 where she'd have to use a little more sunscreen but she was satisfied here now. She might get a snack and something to drink before she moved so best to stay put for a while.

She lay back on the towel, laying her arms straight out from her sides and spread her legs just enough to be a little alluring without actually showing anything just yet. She lay that way for maybe 10 minutes before she decided to sit up and do a little watching herself. It was always interesting to see the topless women and, of course, compare a little but mostly to just fantasize about who and what they were and why they were here. She had been sitting that way for just a few minutes where she was aware of a male figure that seemed to be heading straight for her. Her brain tensed a little - she was here to be seen and not to be bothered. But continue he had and now he had stopped right in front of her.

"Hi," he said, a huge smile on his face.

She actually couldn't help but like the smile. "Hi," she replied, probably a little brighter than she had intended to reply.

"I noticed you over here," he began, and kind of half-giggled since obviously she was here to be noticed. He continued, "and you're by yourself and I waited a while to see if anyone was going to join you." Then he put his hands up in that "I didn't do it" gesture. "I'm here by myself too and . . . ," he seemed to stammer just slightly, "I just thought it might be fun to sit and maybe talk some and stuff." He raised his eyebrows in a question.

Of course, she was curious as to why a guy, with a bathing suit on, was at a topless beach but the answer seemed fairly obvious. If he had been on WI2 then he would have had no bathing suit and his reasons would have been a little harder to discern. She left him wondering for a while as she kind of checked him out as best she could. He sure wasn't a dashing, handsome kind of a dude, just a pleasant face. Not at all like the few guys she had dated in college and after, most of whom she had to admit had been pretty good-looking guys. Mostly she was way to busy to be bothered with guys and dating. But this one did have that wonderful smile and it was hard not to like. Plus, that little stammer told her a lot as well. If she wanted to be watched, here was someone who could watch from up close and, surprisingly she thought, he had been and still was looking her straight in the eye and hadn't dropped his gaze to her tits once. She certainly needed to change that.

It was her turn to smile back at him. "Sure, why not," she said twisting a little so that her breasts were thrust forward fairly prominently. No luck as his eyes still held hers.

"Great!" he said with a lot of enthusiasm. "Let me go grab my towel."

She watched him turn and retrace his steps. He was interesting in that there was nothing hugely interesting about him. Not that there was anything at all wrong with him. He was maybe six feet tall, not athletic or particularly muscular, just trim and, well, trim. Certainly not fat or thin but very, just, normal. Fairly quickly he was heading back with his towel and that huge grin again. He spread the towel carefully beside her, sat down and, of course, looked her straight in the eye. But she would not let that pass and decided to tease a little.

"So," she said, eyeing him with one eye partly closed, "you came over here to ask if you could join me but didn't bring your towel along."

"Yeah, so you think I was a little pessimistic then?"

"Maybe, and there's one other thing." They were eye to eye. "You haven't once, that I could see, looked at my bare tits. Take a look." She thrust her chest toward his reddening cheeks.

"Oh, I've looked," he replied quickly. "What male wouldn't?" Then he dropped his eyes. She could tell he was debating with himself. He unconsciously licked his lips. Finally decided, he said, "they're as nice as any I've seen for a long time, and that doesn't in any way serve them the justice they should have." He glanced up at her face again with that big smile. "I hope you don't get upset with me but your nipples are unbelievable."

Now she was wishing they were on WI2 so she could see if his body was reacting to what he was seeing and what he was saying. She was sure she'd like that. "Thank you," she said quietly knowing that she could easily reach up and pinch those nipples and he would really see something, but she didn't think that was quite proper at this time. She reached her hand toward him. "I'm Wilma," she said.

He met her hand with his. "Eric," he said simply and then had an odd little twist to his face.

"What?" she said, smiling at him.

"Nothing important really. It's just that you don't hear that name much these days."

"No, you don't, for sure. I was named after my great grandmother. She was the first Wilma."

"Oh, that's neat," he said, a slightly wistful look on his face.

"She, of course, was my mom's grandma and mom loved her to pieces. They spent so much time together when mom was little. She took care of her all the time when my mom was a little girl, so mom wanted to remember her and honor her too. I have no regrets about being named after her. It is an honor and a responsibility."

"Too bad you won't get to spend time with her too." He just assumed that all great grandmothers were dead.

"No, no," Wilma replied quickly. "I do. She lives in California and I see her two or three times a year. She's 94 now."

"Tell me about your family." His expression had changed and somehow, she could tell that he wasn't just making small talk but was really interested.

"I guess it's a pretty normal family. I have a brother and sister and we've always been really close. Since I moved away, we don't see each other so often but we text and Skype all the time. Same for mom and dad. I call both sets of grandparents all the time since they're not quite ready for texting and Skype but that works well too." As she was talking, she watched his expression changing. If his look had been wistful before, it was now very pensive and tinged with sadness. She was puzzled but was determined to find out. "Your turn," she said, pointing at him. "Tell me about your family."

He looked away, off into the distance for long seconds, then back at her. "Do you really want to hear?"

"Listen, I don't say things unless I mean them. Yes, I'd love to hear."

He took a deep breath and when he spoke, his voice has softened a good deal. "My birth mother got pregnant at a fraternity party. I'll say more about that later. Thank God she decided to have me. I'm sure lots of people told her not to. But she did and she wanted to keep me, to be my mother, but she wasn't able to with all the cards stacked against her. I went to foster care while she tried to get things together. I was fostered by a young couple with two kids of their own. They had decided rather than having more they'd be good citizens and become foster parents. I was their first ward."

Wilma watched his face and the changing of his expressions and she could sense the hurt and the pain that must be tearing at his insides. "You don't have to tell me if it's too hard," she said, not quite sure of what to say.

"It's good to just spit it out sometimes, you know. It happened and it is. But there is some good. That couple ended up adopting me and they've been a fantastic family - I couldn't ask for better. I might as well be their own flesh and blood the way they've loved me." Now the smile was returning. "I'm just so, so lucky for that." Just as quickly the smile was fading again. "I said I'd tell you more about my birth mom. The child welfare people and the adoption people are very private with information and it's really hard to find and get anything from them. But my adoptive mom was best friends with a lady who worked at child welfare and the friend would secret out information every so often so I've found out a few things, some of which aren't the best."

For some reason that she couldn't decipher, Wilma reached out and took Eric's hand as he shared his story. She almost wished, for just a second, that she wasn't topless as she listened.

"The child welfare people were, of course, trying to find out something about who the father was. Mom told them that she was very, very drunk but she could remember having sex with at least three guys. There were other snippets that she recalled but, being so drunk, she wasn't sure where they were other guys or just things from the first three. She guessed there might have been five guys. And she couldn't remember exactly who the guys were and there were more guys and girls having sex all over the place and the guys were drunk too and she was sure, in the dark rooms, they didn't even know who they were having sex with." Another deep breath. "That's how I was conceived. We did learn that my mother was at the college with a full academic scholarship and she had been valedictorian of her high school class. Of course, whoever the guy was, he was a junior or senior and thus, no moron. I was blessed, if you can call it that, with some intelligence and have gotten along well." She got one more very sad look. "That's not what I came over here to talk with you about so if you want me to leave, I'll sure do that."

She looked at him for long seconds, then again not sure why she did it, reached out and took hold of his chin and gave him a gentle kiss. "Does that answer your question," she said softly.

"You're something else, Wilma." He lay down on his towel on his side, head on his hand and gave her that big smile again.

"Would you like to know who your mother is?"

He shrugged. "I guess I would. I'm happy with my life as it is and that's why I'd like to know who she is. I'd just like to meet her so I could thank her for having the courage to go ahead and have me. I don't need a relationship with her at all. I've actually sent away for three DNA tests so far just on the chance I might find something. I'm not obsessed about it though. I'll be happy with whatever happens, even if it's nothing which is what I'm expecting."

There was nothing special about him that she could see visually but somehow, he was becoming very special. It wasn't easy to reveal so much of yourself so quickly. She lay down on her towel and mirrored his posture.

They lay there like that talking about everything just a little and nothing a whole lot. From this close he was a little awestruck at how pretty she was. Not gung-ho beautiful, just very, very pretty. And he did take time to stare at her breasts as she seemed to enjoy that. He did notice those nipples, that maybe they were a little larger than before and it was all he could do to keep from touching them. As for her, she was captured over and over by the smile and, almost without thinking she said suddenly, "Want to head up to WI2?"

By now he wanted nothing more than that and eagerly stood up and gathered his towel, helping her get hers as well. He loved to go to WI2 and look and today he would be looking, but the looking would be a little more personal and close-up for sure. He stepped out of the way and let her lead, watching her very nice rear end swishing from side to side, very delicious looking, even with the bikini still on. At the gate she led him through, then stopped and very carefully took the bottom of that bikini off and stowed it in her bag. Eric stepped out of his swim trunks and she held out her hand, offering to put them in the bag with her things. Silly thoughts rushed through his head as he pictured his trucks nestled again her bikini bottoms. But the reaction those thoughts were causing made him try to dismiss them from his mind. Maybe later. They discussed where to go and found a place. not secluded of course, but a little away from the crowd. He had to admit that just walking along he was enjoying the view of a couple of very pretty and very naked ladies but they were only temporary distractions. He was with one very attractive and now very naked lady as well and he was going to take advantage of that even if he wasn't quite sure now just how that was going to happen.

Wilma had just gotten a quick glimpse of Eric at the gate and she was anxious now to study him a little more carefully now that they were getting their towels situated. She finally decided what the heck and just stood and stared at him. He was putting his towel down very carefully and didn't notice. She was not surprised at what she was seeing for what had been hiding under his swim trunks wasn't at all different from the rest of him. She usually hated the word average but it kind of fit here. She realized that wasn't all bad either, in fact maybe it was kind of good.

He finished with the towel and straightened up to see her eyes on him. He slowly closed his own eyes then opened them. "Can I be honest with you?" he said innocently enough.

"Please," Was her prompt reply.

"If you keep looking at me like that, something's going to happen and I think you can guess what it might be so, I don't know."

Now it was her time to tease again. She very sensuously licked her lips, her eyes half closed. "Maybe that's what I want to happen. We're here to look and see." She followed that by slowly lowering her eyes again. She could immediately see what he was talking about as his penis was very quickly getting larger and stiffer.

"I'm gonna be the only one on this beach looking like this," he sputtered out and quickly lay down on his towel.

She lay down right beside him on her towel. "Sorry," she said softly. "I couldn't resist." She looked at his erection once more to his groan. "Nice to see I can have that effect though."

Of course, it wasn't only what she was doing that was having its effect on him. It was just looking at her, at her bare mons at her glistening body, at the light sheen of perspiration that was showing on top of the sunscreen, at those nipples that just wouldn't let go of his eyes, just at everything she was. Not at all what he had expected when he headed for Whistler's Island that morning. So, he decided he needed to talk.

"Why did you start coming out here to the island?" he asked casually.

She related the whole story of her developing exhibitionist tendencies and how the island was the best place for her to fulfil those tendencies.

"How about you?" she asked when she was through.

"Eh, I had a girlfriend and I found out she liked to show what she had and she was coming out here so I came with her and joined and have just been here ever since. I guess I don't mind showing a little but I'm more interested in looking I guess."

"Well, nothing wrong with that. What happened to the girlfriend?"

"I found out she was showing everything just about everywhere and almost all the time, and I suspected maybe more than just showing, and I decided I didn't need that so I left. I don't think she was too disappointed as she had other things to do."

"I'm not quite like that, thank goodness." She watched Eric's eyes as they spent a good bit of their time staring at her breasts and more likely her nipples, she was sure. And when he wasn't doing that, he was grinning at her with that huge grin she had grown to anticipate and like a whole lot and maybe way too much. It just seemed to be what Eric was. Now his eyes were back to the nipples. She slid her body about six inches closer to him. They talked some more. Then six inches closer. More talk and another six inches. She was sure, from as close as she was now, that he could see every detail of those nipples, every wrinkle, every nuance of color and she was sure he could see that they had grown. Maybe they could grow a little more. "Go ahead," she said very softly when there was a lull in their talking.