Through the door, Jon found himself outside. If the alley was the front door, the door labelled "Winners" must lead through the back. Strange, he thought, that they would want the winners to leave. Maybe they knew people would want some fresh air after all that exertion. How considerate!
Stranding with his back to the building, Jon found himself staring straight out at the beach. Funny how a bar with such a great location wouldn't have their front door on the beach side; it probably didn't work with their tough image. He wondered if he would have even given the fight club a chance if he had seen it on the beach side. Most likely not, since he would have dismissed it as too frou-frou.
Wiggling across the road toward the sand in his high heels, Jon could feel the mud harden as it dried over his exposed skin. Maybe a dip in the ocean would be just what he needed. The sun was still above the horizon, but not much, so it would be a nice sunset swim, the heat of the day rising off the ocean, just cool enough to be enjoyable.
The sand turned out to be a bit too much for his high-heeled cowboy boots. Jon sat down on the beach, enjoyed the feel of the warm sand sliding up his daisy duke shorts, and slipped off the boots. His feet now naked, he figured he'd slip off the rest of his clothes, just to keep them all together.
This shirt, already untied, came off easily. His shorts and panties, too, joined the pile. When he took off his bra, however, he found a surprise. The mud from the wrestling match seemed to have gotten inside the seal between his chest and his breast forms, fixing them in place. He pulled and pulled, but to no avail; the breast forms seemed to be stuck permanently.
Not that he minded as much. This way he wouldn't have to keep track of them when he had them off. He'd gotten used to the weight, and he'd always thought himself a bit concave chested; finally he'd have some pecs to make him look a bit more manly. Maybe some of the girls back home would notice him!
The water, as he had guessed, was still warm. Jon enjoyed the sensual feeling of the saltwater washing over his naked body, washing away the remnants of mud and sweat from the fight club. He dipped under water, letting his hair rinse out. When he came up for air he tread water for a while and watched the sun go down in rich and vibrant hues he hadn't even imagined before. The island truly was paradise.
With the dim light of twilight upon him, Jon swam back to shore to get dressed. He knew the island was a safe place, but wasn't so sure about the ocean after dark. The beach was still empty as he walked out onto dry ground, sand clinging to his wet feet. He followed his earlier footprints to his bundle of clothes only to find them gone! There were no other footprints, only the empty imprint where he had neatly folded his former outfit.
Cursing, Jon covered his crotch with his left hand and his breast-forms with his right arm. Well, he figured, he'd been without clothes on the island before, maybe something good will come of this. Making up his mind, Jon chose a direction and headed toward the...
