Martin is incredibly gifted. He lives in Martinique. Owns his own bar and hotel ‘The Deadwood bar and the Driftwood hotel.’ But that’s not all...

At the end of the cyclone season, things really start to pick up in Martinique. The locals stock up for the coming tourists and the hotels get full of bookings and the girls wear bikinis or sarongs. Life is good.

I’m Martin and I own a beach bar; it sits back from the beach but not that far that you can’t throw a stone over the outside seating and get it in the water. As the tourist season starts, I’m busy stocking the bar and running the hotel. The hotel has twenty rooms on two levels and shares the car park with the bar. All the rooms are doubles and have a shared bathroom at each end of both levels one marked ‘Guys’ at one end and ‘Gals at the other, so five rooms share a bathroom all of which have four sinks four stalls, and two double showers. I have a particularly good rating with all the travel and booking offices and I keep the rates equal if not just above average, depending on what time of year it is.

I’m of the original stock of Indigenous people of the island and have cream coffee-colored skin and black curly hair that I keep short. Running a bar can keep you very fit and I am. I do all the maintenance of the place and run the bar alone in the off-season and with the help of some of the local girls when it gets busy. It was not uncommon for there to be 4 girls serving bar and tables and two outback making bar food and snacks. The bar closed officially at 1 in the morning but usually still had patrons till three or four when it closed till ten that morning. He never had any real trouble and because of his build and height (6’4”), trouble never came his way.

This was going to be a good season; I could feel it as I watched the first sailboat set anchor in the back of the bay. A big double-masted sloop. By the end of the day, the bay was filling up with all manner of boats looking for a safe anchor and I had every bed full and had to go to my locked shipping container to restock the beers. “Lorraine” was a very popular local beer, and he sold a lot of it to the people who were restocking their boats and heading out or just sitting at the bar. Then there was the rum. Made locally, it was famous worldwide. Clément is a unique rum to the islands and characterized by almond note, sugar cane, caramel, and dried fruit and was very popular at the bar I had my regulars that came every year and tried to make an annual booking, but as I always said, ‘I had to spread the love’ and I only took bookings up to 6 months in advance. This system made my place seem exclusive and very popular with the travel people who referred to The Deadwood bar as ‘One of a kind and unique to Martinique’. The local people who lived in the area also enjoyed all the crowds his Hotel and Bar brought, and they often set up temporary stalls in the car park to sell Sarongs and colorful shirts that the tourists seemed to love. I allowed this while it didn’t interfere with the guests.

I spoke French of course, as it’s the local language, I also speak English, German, and Italian. I have my own company which invests in the local community, mainly those businesses that cater to the tourist industry. Such as the shopping center, a few hotels, and some local fishing and tour boats. Even though Cannabis is illegal on the island, if you know where to look it can be found easily enough, and if you take it back to your boat who’s to say?

Being single and a local, I’ve dated often and not just the local girls. Now at 37, I’m very selective with the tourists and would only take the single girls back up to my place which was on the second floor of the bar. It’s very roomy and has 2 bedrooms and an office on one side and one long communal room with bathroom behind the kitchen then an 8-seating dining table and a living room with 4 lounges. The veranda facing the Bay runs along the whole length of the building and is my favorite place to hang out with its two hammocks.

I was single for another reason other than being busy all the time. I’ve got an eight” cock and a lot of girls feel intimidated by the size. It was great when he was young. I made lots of friends with the local girls and the tourists that would pay to take my picture with me standing beside them and them with one hand on my long cock. It’s big and fat and holds so much weight that it hangs down even when I’ve got a hard-on. The local girls would love to see and hold it and he loved it when they made him cum by stroking him or giving me head, but many felt intimidated by the size, and I’ve only twice had vaginal intercourse.

Tonight, was ‘topless Tuesday’. Free first drinks to the girls that took off their bikini tops at the bar and walked back to their tables topless. By the end of the night, all girls of all ages were topless, and this always attracted more guys and more drinking at the bar. I do have to police the outside tables to stop any underage drinkers, but I’m not too strict if they have their parents along with them.

One girl had caught my eye last night and she was here again tonight. She has short blond hair in a pixy cut with small tits, long legs, and narrow hips. Just the way he liked them. Tonight, she had a tote with her that she kept beside her all night sitting at the end of the bar. Earlier I’d asked if she wanted a drink, she looked at the sign that said free drink if you go topless and she removed her top, from then on, I had been too busy to pay her much attention other than to scowl at a patron that was obviously bothering her. He was drunk and being just a little pushy and I told him ‘To leave now on his feet or I would take him outside and put him face down in the dust. His choice’. He left. As it got quieter, she was still there and being a barman and therefore a good listener he struck up a conversation with her.

Her story was one he had heard before with very few changes. Her name was Sophy, and she had taken passage on a motor yacht as a steward, that had docked here yesterday. Unfortunately, the businessman that was the owner had got a call and the boat had just left, stranding her here till she could leave the island as a deckhand or something. She had some money and her passport and a few clothes. She said that she could tend the bar and asked if I needed a hand and as I had done many times before, I asked her to mix some drinks and pour some beers till I was happy with her performance. At the end of the night, after all the regular staff had gone, she was still there clearing tables and washing down the bar.

I studied her while we finished cleaning up and loved the way she moved, her short hair and long legs in shorts and those cute tits that had remained uncovered all night. “Do you have somewhere to stay for the night?” I asked, “because I live upstairs and have room for one more”. He hastily added, “no strings.”

She looked at him and smiled. “I’m so tired you might have to carry me up,” and smiled. She had a lovely smile.

“You go on up and I’ll lock up down here and out back. The stairs are on the outside of the building through that door.”

After storing the outside tables and chairs I locked up and took the stairs. I found her passed out on one of the lounges with her head on her tote. I covered her with a blanket of local woven cotton and left for a shower. As usual, I slept in the nude, finding it too restrictive in the mornings if I wore shorts and woke up with some ‘morning wood’. So, it was no surprise when I was woken by a startled gasp and as I slowly woke and blinked, I looked over my naked body and morning wood to see Sophy with her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide standing in the doorway. I quickly threw the sheets over myself and sat on the side of the bed. “Sorry if I’ve scared you,” I said, “but I usually sleep this way and hadn’t realized I’d kicked the sheets and cover off. Sorry again.”

“No that’s all right, I ahhh, I called for you and then went looking for you, and look here you are. Ha-ha-Ha. Ummmm want coffee?”

“Yes, that would be great. There’s a machine on the counter. I’ll be right out.”

She backed out then turned and hurried away.

I put on some swim shorts and went to the kitchen where she had two mugs of hot coffee waiting. She had changed from the gear she was wearing yesterday and wore a sarong and a white bikini top that made her small breasts look fantastic and her nipples stand out. I couldn’t quite hide my morning wood, but had it stashed down one shorts leg. On seeing her I started to harden and quickly moved to the other side of the kitchen bench.

I sipped the coffee and started a casual conversation about her first night working in The Deadwood bar. She had found it hard work but rewarding talking to the customers and the staff was all great. I ventured to say that if she was OK with it that she was welcome to stay up here until she was able to get a charter off the island. She thanked me and asked if she could pay rent. I said that if she kept working as hard as she did last night that she could stay here rent-free. We shook hands.

She was an English major and took French and art as well and was on a one-year’s break from studying. Just moving from place to place as the whim took her. I asked if she was so rich, that she could just take off like that. She said she wasn’t, but her daddy was, back in England. The Duke of Avon or something like that. My wood had gone down now so I told her that I always took a swim in the morning, and she said that she needed to do some washing as these things she had on were her only clean things, so I showed her the machine downstairs and took off at a trot to the beach. When I returned after swimming, I went straight for the laundry to get a towel and found her there in just her sarong that she had pulled up to cover her breasts and it hung down to the tops of her thighs showing lots of leg that I couldn’t stop staring at. She saw me and blushed and tried to pull the hem of the sarong lower without success. I stammered that I needed a towel and reached over her to the racks of fresh linen along the wall. She was so close that I could smell her body scent of lilac. I stepped back and saw her staring at my chest and abbs and as I stood her gaze dropped down and stayed there. My cock was wet and clinging to my swim shorts, the shape very visible.

I was used to people looking and generally took no notice. I had had admiring looks all my life, but this was different. She was so cute and lovely that my cock just grew and grew till I was forced to adjust it in front of her. “Sorry for this. I’m well endowered as they say and if nothing else, it just gets in the way. Sorry.” She smiled and said, “you poor thing” and giggled, “I can see you suffering right now. Ha.” Just then the washer finished, and she turned to empty it. On tiptoes, she reached up for a basket and flashed me her cute arse. I wrapped the towel around my waist and dropped my shorts to the ground and as I was picking them up, I looked up along her long legs and saw her shaved pussy. I could have stayed down there all day and admired her. I stood and backed up, she looked amazing with those long legs and cute bum. “I ... I ... I. I’ll be upstairs.