This story is over a decade old, but oh...
A few years back my then girlfriend Helen and I spent two weeks in Jamaica, at Ocho Rios (not recommended: the high peaks attract clouds, and you never see the sun). During the second week we took a day tour by bus to the place we SHOULD have booked, the famous 20 mile beach called Negril.
It is well known that Negril has a nudist section, and the nice lady running the tour warned us to use lots of sun tan oil 'so you don't burn your buns.' I don't know where the others went, but Helen and I walked down the beach not followed by anyone from the tour.
We quickly realised that in fact all of Negril is clothing-optional. At every hotel, we could see one or more nude people among the others. The most memorable example was a spectacularly beautiful young woman who was chatting, totally nude and comfortably so, with half a dozen men and women wearing shorts and shirts.
We finally decided to put our blanket down on a stretch of beach that was not in front of a hotel. To our left was a couple sunbathing nude. To our right was a family playing volleyball across an imaginary net, the woman topless.
'I'm not sure I'm going to undress,' said Helen. But when I said that I was planning to, she was out of her bikini before I could move. We caught a bit of sun, enjoying the feel of the breeze on our bare skins, and also enjoying the rather shy looks of the many passers-by, some of whom seemed more embarrassed than we were. One man who had been watching us finally stripped off his shorts, and came to ask Helen for a light. 'I think he just wanted to see my body up close,' she said, chuckling.
This was an erotically charged situation. We oiled each other, which got us mightily aroused, and Helen decided to lie down on top of me. I thought this might be rather provocative, and indeed the nude woman to our left was sitting up now, watching us with a look that might not have been entirely approving. I suggested we go for a swim.
We did. Helen and I kissed passionately in the surf. I held her in my left arm, and she leaned back, her eyes closed, and moved my right hand down towards her vagina. Her clitoris was already hard, and she moved her legs together rhythmically as I caressed it. She soon came, with a deep sigh, and threw herself around my neck.
It was my turn now, and she took my penis in her hand and began stroking it. My penis was long enough that I think it was visible from the shore at least now and then (we weren't in very deep). The nude woman was still staring disapprovingly. We both noticed but didn't care. Though I don't usually orgasm quickly, and though we had made love that morning, I came hard enough that bits of semen were spurting out of the water like a geyser.
We necked and swam a little, and then came back to our blanket to dry off in the sun, after which, with much regret, we pulled our bathing suits back on and began the trek back to the tour bus. 'We can probably find places back home where we can be naked,' said Helen, surprising me. (And we did, I might add.)
There is an interesting sequel to this. The previous ten days, we had been spending our afternoons on the beach or in the sea, returning to our room around five to shower together and prepare for supper. We would then go out on the balcony to watch everyone go by before getting dressed. Though I would put on my shorts, Helen would stand nude, most unlike her I thought.
The day after the Negril trip, I also came out nude, figuring it seemed foolish to cover up after what we had done at Negril. Helen didn't comment until the next day. 'I notice you're not as shy anymore,' she said. She reached out with her hand to my penis, and began stroking it. It was a little awkward for her, because we were both facing forward so everyone passing by could get a view. Normally I wouldn't have come for quite a while, if only because we had made love just over four hours earlier, but the impossibly erotic nature of the situation just overwhelmed me, and I ejaculated in the direction of the 'audience.'
Our vacation was coming to an end, alas. Helen and I are no longer together, but you can probably understand why I still think about those days a lot.