A Bikini with a Mind of its Own

It occurred to Erin that it had been almost a year since she had swum in the ocean. This early in the season, the water would be cool, even a little chilly. But Erin didn't mind swimming in cool water. It was warm enough now that the thought of cool water on her body was appealing and inviting. The thought of it made her close her eyes, and she imagined the cold splash of the ocean against her skin, the chill, salt water on her breasts and between her legs. Erin took pride in being a good swimmer, and she imagined herself cutting through the waves with long, languid strokes, the little green bikini thin and tight and damp against her body.

Erin got lost in her thoughts until, her drowsiness taking over, her head nodded down. She suddenly felt her head falling. She jerked her head up and opened her eyes. It took her a moment to recover her bearings. She nearly had fallen asleep while sitting up.

She realized, too, that while her eyes had been closed she had changed her position again. Her legs no longer were together; instead, they were spread wide, a hand on top of each knee. Without having been conscious of it, Erin once again had exposed herself to the view of her neighbors.

She looked down, toward the bikini bottom between her legs, and she nearly gasped with surprise. It seemed to have changed color once again. Now it was nearly emerald. And it was even smaller and thinner. The top edge of the bikini bottom was no more than an inch wide, and a hint of the hood over her clitoris now lay unmistakably visible just over it. Even more mortifying was the fact that the right lip of her pussy was peeking out from the side, just a little bit.

There was so little fabric to work with now that it was going to be a challenge to cover everything appropriately. But it wouldn't do to keep her labia on view for the crowd at the beach. Erin opened her legs a little more so it would be easier to reach down and adjust the bottom. She used two hands to adjust it and pulled it just slightly to the right. The fabric covered her right lip, but suddenly her left lip popped out into view. It seemed thicker and puffier than she remembered it. The flesh of the lip was pinker than the pale skin around it. She quickly took the bikini bottom in two hands and pulled the fabric up and out to cover everything. But her actions had the opposite effect. By pulling up on the bottom, she stretched it thinner, and it narrowed and dipped and disappeared completely -- plop! -- between the lips of her vulva. Her legs were splayed wide and the uncovered, vertical slit of her pussy, having fully swallowed and hidden the stretched front of the bikini bottom, was now fully on display to the people on the beach around her.

She heard a gasp from the direction where the frat boys sat. She looked up cautiously and could have sworn the one with the frat shirt was mouthing the words "Thank you, God." The boy next to him was holding a cell phone down at his hip with the camera side directly facing her, and she thought she heard a soft "click." The third one simply stared at her with his mouth open.

Erin looked to her left. Every one of the six Europeans was looking at her, and the woman who had been looking at her before was staring openly at her and pursing her lips and smiling. Erin thought she saw her arch her eyebrows suggestively.

Oh my God, Erin thought. She glanced through her sunglasses to her right and saw the middle-aged man holding his legs as far apart as she was, the bulge in his brief swim trunks even larger than before, and an obvious smirk on his face.

Erin brought her legs together quickly. Since she couldn't seem to fix her bikini correctly it was the only way to stop putting on a show.

By keeping her legs together and her knees up she could obscure the scant green fabric of her bikini bottom and top from view of the people around her. But the effort focused her attention even more keenly on the feel of the brief lycra on her skin. As thin and slight as it was, its fabric teased and tantalized her. Her nipples were hard like diamonds, and she knew, even though it was now hidden behind her legs pressed together, that her pussy was damp and open like the petals of a flower in early morning.

Erin was aroused, and her breaths were quick and shallow. As bizarre and unimaginable as it would have been an hour ago, the little bikini strips against her skin were working her body up to an orgasm. It made no sense at all. But Erin could feel it: the thin strip of the bikini bottom pressed against her pussy was vibrating in a faint but steady rhythm and rising temperature. If it kept going like this, it was going to make her come. She could tell. If she did nothing, it was only minutes away.

Erin couldn't help but think that she must be presenting a spectacle for the people around her, but she didn't want to look at them. Instead she looked beyond the shore, to the rippling, thick band of dark blue water under the paler blue sky. The water looked cool and inviting. It seemed to offer a refuge from the tease of the bikini and the gaze of the people around her.

She couldn't take it anymore. Erin took the sunglasses off her face and tossed them into her bag. She stood up, heedless of whatever the tiny bikini did or didn't show, and she started running toward the water.

Without looking at the people nearby, Erin knew they were looking at her. They were looking at her firm, lean thighs, and at the perky cheeks of her butt exposed by the tiny bottom, and at the sway and bounce of her breasts barely covered by the narrow triangles of the bikini top. At this point, Erin didn't care. She just cared about getting to the water. She ran as fast as she could through the sand, dodging people and blankets until she got to the ocean's edge. She didn't hesitate at the feel of the cold water on her feet. She kept running until the water was shin-high. Then she dove forward.

A frothy wave suddenly crested, hit her, and knocked her back. She tried to stand up but she lost her footing and fell back again. Another wave, bigger than the last one, washed over her. For a few moments she was submerged. Then she broke the surface and stood up. She coughed and spit up some salt water and swept her wet hair back with her hands.

Erin had gotten turned around and now stood knee deep in the water facing the beach. She looked down. Earlier, when she had spilled water on her bikini top, it had become almost transparent. Now, soaked by the waves, the bikini was nothing more than a nearly invisible, faintly green film on her pale body. Her nipples stood out like pebbles. The dark slit of her hairless vulva was fully exposed.

Erin looked up toward the beach. She saw more faces turned toward her than she could count. She looked up toward where her blanket was, and she could see the three frat boys, laughing and pointing in her direction. The middle-aged guy suddenly had pulled a camera with a zoom lens, seemingly from nowhere, and it was pointed toward her. An older woman sitting on a blanket closer to the water was giving her the thumbs up.

The bikini seemed to want to expose her, Erin thought. Well, she was tired of fighting it. She stood in that position, her nearly nude body on display for everyone on the beach in front of her, and her hands at her side, making no effort to cover herself. Her shoulders slumped. Her chest heaved.

Standing in the waves, she struggled with her feelings. She'd never exposed herself like this before. A part of her was embarrassed. But another part of her was exhilarated. She had wanted to be seen, to show herself off, to be appreciated. And now she had -- more than she could have expected. It was embarrassing, sure, but it was thrilling, too.

After a minute, Erin decided to end the show and swim. She turned away from the beach and plunged again into the water. This time the waves didn't stop her progress, and she moved forward swiftly with broad strokes and vigorous kicks.

As she had guessed, the water was cool, but it felt good against her body. She swam about a hundred yards one way, parallel to the beach, then she turned around and swam back.

As Erin's body knifed through the chilly water she appreciated how little drag the suit created. Wearing it while swimming was almost like wearing nothing at all. But that thought made her suddenly uneasy. She felt her hip with the hand on the backstroke, but she couldn't feel her suit. She stopped swimming and felt herself with both hands. Uh oh. Her suit was gone. She felt her breasts. No top, either. While she had been swimming her suit had fallen off of her. Erin was naked in the water.

Raising her head above the wave and treading water, Erin looked in every direction for signs of her suit. At first, she didn't see it, but when a swell took her and raised her above the surrounding water she saw the two green pieces of the bikini, floating on the water, about 30 feet away and farther from the shore.

She swam toward it furiously. She wondered how in the world both parts of the suit could have fallen off her, and how they could have drifted so far from her so quickly. She hoped no one could see that she was naked. She was over 50 yards from shore, and no one was swimming in her immediate vicinity, so she thought it was unlikely that anyone could see her. She hoped no one was looking right at her, because as she pumped her arms and legs through the water to get to her suit she knew that the quick pace of her swimming lifted her butt up and just above the surface of the water. But she couldn't afford to go any slower and risk letting the suit drift away.

After stroking the way to where she thought the suit was she stopped and treaded water and looked around.

"Where is it," she called, to no one but herself. She was becoming frantic. She was about 80 yards off the shore, bobbing up and down in the waves, naked, with the beach now packed with mid-day crowds of people and no bikini in sight.

And then she saw it. It had drifted a little farther out into the ocean, about thirty feet away, both the top and bottom somehow miraculously still floating within two feet of each other.

To keep the suit in sight this time she breast-stroked toward the suit with her head above water, not taking her eyes off the tiny pieces of green fabric skimming the ocean surface.

Despite her strong and determined strokes and vigorous frog kicks, though, the suit wasn't getting closer. The current seemed to carry it just out of reach. She swam like this for a minute, picking up her pace but not getting closer. She stopped to catch her breath for a moment and the suit appeared to st v op drifting farther as well. It lay on the waves only about 20 feet away, tantalizingly close but just out of her reach.

Erin let herself turn around quickly to see how far she had swum. She was much farther from the shore now, well beyond the point where the waves broke, and, she thought to herself, farther out in the water than she was comfortable being. She didn't want to have to swim any farther to get her suit. She needed to grab it and head back to shore.

She turned her gaze back out to sea. The suit was there. A few strong strokes would take her to it, current or no current, and she could put it on.

A flash of white passed suddenly over her head. It was a gull, a big one, wings flapping audibly no more than ten feet from her. It was descending, its orange feet stretched out to prepare to land on the water.

It was headed right for her bikini.

"No!" Erin shouted at it. "Go away!"

She resumed swimming toward her suit, but, as before, she kept her head up so it wouldn't leave her sight.

The gull splashed down in the water next to her suit. It turned to her and fixed its beady eyes on her and opened its beak and let out a mocking "skraawwwk." Then it dipped its head to the water, and in two quick motions snapped up both pieces of her suit.

Erin was close enough that she tried to splash the white bird and distract it.

The gull ignored her. It extended its strong wings, and with a few vigorous flaps lifted itself into the air. It took off and flew quickly away, the green bikini firmly in the grip of its beak and sparkling like a jewel in the mid-day sun.

Erin treaded water for a full two minutes, watching the gull fly in a straight line close to the water and parallel to the beach until it was out of sight.

"This can't be happening," she thought. "It can't be."

A damned seagull had stolen both parts of her bikini, and now she was treading water and tiring quickly. She also was butt-naked and 200 yards from shore.

She couldn't tread water forever. Erin had no choice but to swim back to the beach.

She swam slowly, resuming a steady but now unhurried breast stroke. She had to get back to shore but also give herself time to think about what to do. She scanned the beach. Although she couldn't see her blanket she knew approximately where it was from the distinctive height and curve of the bluff behind it. She knew her blanket and her bag, with the cover-up stuffed inside it, lay about 100 feet from the water's edge, and a dense throng of beachgoers now crowded the space in between her and it.

As Erin approached the place where the waves broke she knew she'd have to decide what to do, and quickly. Her feet still couldn't touch the bottom, and she was getting tired. Once she got close enough to shore to stand up, however, the rise and fall of the surf would leave her at times exposed to view. There was no way she simultaneously could keep her feet on the ground and avoid exposing her nakedness to the crowd on the beach.

She thought she might be able to ask someone to get her cover-up and bring it to her. On the other hand, they might not cooperate. They might see her nudity and call attention to it, and that might attract more attention. It also would be hard for her, bobbing in the waves, to point out where her blanket was.

Not only that, but there was no one in the water near her at the moment. Off to her left, a hundred yards down the beach, she saw a man and woman with three little kids, wading slowly into the waves. They were too far away to help, and she wasn't about to bother a family with little kids.

In the other direction, a little closer and now standing ankle-deep in the surf, stood two young men, shirtless and in colorful board shorts.

"Oh no," she thought. They were two of the frat boys that had been sitting near her on the beach.

And one of them was holding a cell phone.

The other one suddenly looked in her direction. Erin was close enough that she supposed he could see her, and even tell it was her.

Sure enough, the one looking in her direction elbowed the other and said something she couldn't hear over the din of the waves. Both frat boys looked up and over in her direction and smiled. The one with the cell phone held it up in front of his face as though he wanted to see if he could take a photo.

Erin thought, "This isn't going to go well."

She was getting closer to the shore, and the water level dropped suddenly and she felt her toes touch sand for a few seconds. Erin guessed that the frat boys were still about 60 feet away from the point where she would exit the water to get to her blanket. But they were moving closer.

Erin had no choice. The longer she waited the more likely she was to become the photo subject of a pervy frat boy. She decided to get out of the water and make a run for her blanket.

Erin had never gone streaking before. Before she had met Martin she had at times enjoyed showing off, but always clothed. She had never been naked in public.

Until now.

With the frat boys approaching and holding up a cell phone, time wasn't on her side. Erin decided to make a run for her blanket, naked or not.

She waited until a wave was almost on her, and then she thrust her hands forward and kicked furiously. The swell carried her forward and for a moment she was body surfing just below the crest of the wave. As the wave angled toward the beach she guessed that any beach goers looking her way were getting a good view of her pale ass.

Suddenly, the wave broke hard over her and pushed her down under the water. She wasn't ready for the strength and weight of the wave on her, and she felt salt water enter her open mouth. Her body twirled and tumbled under the surface. Her face and her knees smacked against the sandy bottom at the same time.

The water pulled back from her quickly, and before she knew what was happening she found herself on her hands and knees, coughing out briny water, hair partly obscuring her vision. The ocean had, without further ado, given her up, naked and gasping, to a large, surprised audience on the beach.

She pulled sopping strands of hair out of her face and looked past the shoreline. Sure enough, there must have been 200 pairs of sunglasses turned in her direction.

For a few seconds she sat crouched and exposed and unable to move. She knew that as soon as she stood up she would be fully nude and exposed to everyone looking at her.

The sound of a young male voice calling "Holy shit, dude!", coming from the direction of the frat boys off to her side but out of sight, spurred her to action.

Erin stood up and took off sprinting. She tried to, at least. The wet sand gave way under her strides, almost making her stumble. When she hit the tideline, the sandy surface was dry and heavy and uneven, and it was harder for her to keep a steady pace.

She still couldn't quite see where her blanket was past the throng of faces and bodies. She looked for it desperately. At the same time, she had to focus on the dense groups of people around her to avoid running over or into them. Her feet danced awkwardly around and between the beach blankets as she looked for her blanket.

"What if it isn't there?" she suddenly wondered. "What if somebody took it, or my bag?"

The way things had gone so far that day, it didn't seem like a stretch to imagine her bag and cover-up being stolen.

But then she saw them, the blanket and bag exactly where she'd left them. She was no more than 50 feet away from them.

Even as Erin focused on the bag and tried to ignore the dozens of heads turned in her direction, her mind's eye gave her a clear picture of what she looked like to the people around her. She was pale and gloriously naked, moving fast across the sand but not fast enough to avoid putting herself on display for her audience. Not fast enough to stop half a dozen cell phone cameras from snapping photos of her as she stumbled quickly by. Not fast enough to avoid putting on a show of her breasts, firm and thick and topped off with pert, upraised nipples, bouncing and heaving in every direction. Not fast enough to avoid exposing her hairless pubic mound and the little slit of her pussy with every long, awkward stride.

As Erin drew near her blanket she heard the murmurs and shouts and laughter coming from the beach crowd around her, along with exclamations: "Did you see that?" "My god, she's naked!"

She even heard someone say, "Nice pussy!"

Then she got to her blanket. She had meant to draw the cover-up out of her bag and throw it over herself as fast as she could, without drying herself off. But what she saw, spread out on her blanket, drew her suddenly to a stop.

She stood naked and still dripping under the warm sun, over a hundred people still craning their necks to get a good look at her, and she stared at what was on her blanket.

There, lying dry and stretched out against the pale blanket, was her green bikini, the top neatly laid out next to the bottom.

"Fuck," she called out, not believing what she saw and not caring if anyone heard her.

She stood gaping at the little bikini, her arms at her side, and her mouth open in amazement.

At the sound of a cell phone camera clicking behind her she moved again. She ignored the bikini and dove for her bag. She pulled out the little cover up dress. Her hands tore at it to find the bottom, and as she struggled to find it she realized that her ass was up in the air and her legs were apart and she was putting on a show for anyone behind her. The second audible click of a cell phone camera told her the show was being appreciated.