Dancing at the Garden


In the southernmost part of the Florida Keys, Key West, there’s a bar on Duval Street called The Bull, located in an old three-story building. They have very good live music most afternoons and every evening, and big open windows at street level that allow passers-by to look in from the street and listen. One flight up from The Bull is another bar called The Whistle. This place is a casual bar with balcony seating on two sides that allow patrons to have drinks while overlooking Duval Street and Caroline Street. One flight up from The Whistle is the Garden of Eden, and that’s the place that I want to write about.

The Garden of Eden is the smallest of the three, and is open to the sky. There’s a small bar, a DJ stand, and there are plants surrounding the two sides adjacent to the street. What makes The Garden of Eden unique, though, is that it is a clothing optional place. Anytime The Garden is open, from 10:30am until 2am, you can drink, dance and relax up there on the roof bar, with or without your clothing. In the evening, women can go up to a booth across from the bar where they can strip down and get their skin painted by an expert body painter.

One night during my last visit to Key West, I was the last of my group to be out drinking. Others had headed home early after a long day. I headed up to The Garden at around 11pm and there was a small crowd of people enjoying drinks, a few of whom were dancing. It was late and the night sky and low lights made for a dark setting. A DJ was playing dance music. Most people were dressed, but one woman on the dance floor had her shirt open and her lovely, pale, bare breasts were bouncing nicely to the music as she danced. Two young men were naked and dancing.

As I stepped up to the bar to order a drink I noticed the couple dancing nearest to me. They were young and attractive and flirting madly with each other. She kept pulling at the bottom of her shirt but was too shy to lift it. He looked vaguely like he didn’t want her to do it. At any rate, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and I was betting that she’d be among the next to undress. Within the next 10 minutes another attractive young couple joined them and the men began facing their dates to the crowd and eventually started lifting their shirts for about 30 seconds at a time, allowing bare breasts to see the moonlight. The women laughed in an embarrassed and excited way. People smiled and cheered and went back to their dancing and drinking.

Over the course of the next Betturkey hour more clothing came off. A pretty young woman with short hair took off her shirt and danced in a lacy bra with hints of nipple showing when the light hit her right, and an older 40-something woman who was with her likewise took off her shirt and danced in her black bra. A man closer to my age (about 50) undressed, becoming the third fully naked partier that night.

It was wonderful. Nobody stared, nobody judged or jeered, nobody did anything but dance and enjoy the party. Every so often someone absently took out a smart phone to text or check social networks. The bouncers were on them in a flash, asking them to put phones away. No photos allowed and the bouncers had been instructed to keep smart phones out of hands. People were gently told they could use their smartphones downstairs at The Whistle. Smart policy. People are more likely to get undressed if they know there will be no photos.

As the night went on, more people came out on the dance floor, and more clothing came off. The woman who had been dancing with the open shirt when I arrived tossed that shirt to the side and danced fully topless. Two young women took off tops and danced near me. One had long dark hair and a slightly thicker body with large breasts. “They’re only boobs,” she said to people nearby, as a way of saying it was no big deal. Her boyfriend watched, laughing. Next to her a young blonde woman with short hair and a shirt that said “Wake Me Up When It’s Friday” slipped out of her shirt and bra. Her smaller, nicely shaped breasts bobbed as she danced, hands up in her hair. Like the other couple, her boyfriend stood off to the side and watched. A small group of 20-somethings were grinding against each other near the DJ, some of them naked. One young lady who had showed up in a long and elegant dress slid out of it and danced in her tiny and revealing under things, pressed up against an athletic young naked guy. It seemed clear she hadn’t met him before that moment. She couldn’t stop smiling.

When in Rome, I thought. I undressed leaving my shorts, boxer briefs and t-shirt on a chair, and danced fully naked in nothing but my flip flops. It was an amazing feeling – free and comfortable. Nobody gawked or pointed or made fun of my less than perfect body. Much as the 20-something women gravitated to the naked 20-something men and danced with them, trailing fingers over chests and shoulders and waist, soon the 40-something Betturkey Giriş women on the dance floor (some of whom were there with non-dancing husbands) gravitated to me.

Over the course of the next two hours, five different women, most of whom were fully dressed, came over to dance with me. Some wordlessly ground up against me from behind, pressing their clothed body to my naked body. Some bumped butts with me. Some, including the woman in the black bra who turned out to be the mother of the younger woman in the lacy bra, trailed fingers across my shoulders and waist. Some came up face-to-face and danced close, touching and talking and feeling really excited to be dancing with a naked man. How do I know? They told me so. It was intoxicating.

At one point, I noticed a couple of about my age dancing a few feet away. He danced behind her, with hands up under her sweater fully caressing her bare breasts. Every so often he lifted her sweater enough to show them to me and to others nearby. They were watching me and danced closer. She motioned to me and I knew she wanted to be sandwiched between her husband and me, her front to my back, and I obliged. Then she surprised me by lifting her sweater and dragging her bare breasts down my back and over my bare ass. It felt great. She smiled and they danced away.

One southern woman (I assume, from her accent) of about my age danced for a long while with me, face to face and very close. We talked and flirted a bit. She “accidentally” brushed a hand against my cock. Twice. And she reached around me and “bongo-drummed” my ass, which caused me to press myself into her. But otherwise most of the touching on the dance floor that night was PG13. She and another women danced many dances with me and I really enjoyed looking into the eyes of a stranger knowing that she was getting off on it and very likely will hang onto the memory of dancing with a naked guy for a long time.

I was really having fun. I thoroughly enjoyed dancing naked with dressed women pressed up against my body, while watching topless women and women in lingerie right near by. Though sex is prohibited in the Garden of Eden (haha), the atmosphere is very sexually charged.

When I had had enough, I dressed and waved to some people dancing near me and then headed down the steps to the Whistle. After stopping in at the rest room, I stepped out to find myself face to face with a couple that I recognized. It was the large-breasted Betturkey Güncel Giriş brunette who had been dancing topless near me (“they’re only boobs”) and her guy, so I said hello and that she looked great dancing. Her boyfriend started laughing and she said “did you see me topless up there?”

“Of course,” I said. “I was the naked guy dancing right near you in the corner.”

They both looked surprised and then smiled. I guess I was less recognizable in my clothes. They introduced themselves as Frank and Julie.

“Dude!” said Frank. “You really got that party started! Sorry about slapping your ass.”

I had forgotten until just then that he did. “No problem,” I said, laughing. I then turned to her and said, “You really do look great topless. I wish I had gotten those big boobs in my hands.”

“You really should have!” said Frank. “You still should!”

Julie looked surprised, but didn’t object. I smiled and pointed behind them. To the right of the restrooms was an unoccupied part of the Whistle and we quietly walked back there. Frank pulled Julie near the wall where we were less likely to be seen, and reached around to caress her big boobs. Then he quickly unbuttoned her shirt. Her big round boobs spilled out and bounced. They really were fantastic! Beautifully shaped and with big round aureola, and they shimmied as she moved. Frank looked at me with a big smile and moved his eyebrows up and down comically.

I stepped forward and took her bare boobs into my hands and caressed them, weighing them and gently pinching her nipples every so often. She moaned and felt and rubbed my hard cock through my pants. To my shock, Frank then unbuttoned her shorts and lowered them, getting behind her. He then got his cock out and right there in the Whistle he started fucking her from behind. This seemed crazy! Julie tried not to make too much noise but she was excited and I could hear her soft moans. More than that, I could hear the wet sound of her being fucked as Frank slammed into her. This whole thing had me really excited and after a while I actually came in my pants, all while roughly grabbing Julie’s big tits. Julie moaned, a little too loudly, as she and Frank seemed to cum. At that point we realized how loud and how obvious we were. Though the Whistle was almost empty, and though nobody was in the room we were in, there was a bartender around the corner and people up at the Garden and down at the Bull. We figured we should pull it together and hustle out.

We quickly went downstairs and out to Duval Street. I thanked them for a fun time. Julie kissed my cheek and then she and Frank ran off.

I started heading back to the hotel, smiling about what a great night it had been. When I get to Key West in the future, I definitely plan to visit the Garden of Eden again.

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