The Friday night party celebrated the end of the school year, there were about 200 people in attendance. Lots of music, food and liquor; Rodney had brought along a ‘stick of illie’ or marijuana as a bonus, and we all took turns taking a drag.

The moon was full or close to it, we felt its effects and were horny. Our little group or clique, about 20 of us were really close.

The party drew to a close and someone suggested driving to Negril to go crabbing, we could camp out overnight on the beach and go skinny dipping.

"Who's in?"

No one wanted to be left out, but the girls in the group were a little skeptical, they weren't into picking up crabs. They didn't balk at the idea of skinny dipping however. The ratio was in the girls favor, about 8 to 12 guys. No one was really going steady; we all hung out and had a great time together.

Early May begins of the crab season and now they were in full run. This succulent creatures natural urge to spawn drives them from the hills and swamps. Swarming the landscape they instinctively head to the beach of their ancestral birthplace.

We piled into 3 or four cars and headed out to make the 2 hour journey. Rodney and Paul, the oldest drove station wagons, Mikie-B had a Mini Cooper pickup, we drove in convoy being careful not to run over the creatures crossing the road.

Prepared with crocus bags to collect the crabs, the lead car would stop and signal when a large swarm was spotted, all the guys would then exit and herd them in a circle for easy pickup. We weren't afraid of the huge claws as most of us had been hunting since we were kids and learned the technique from our dads or older siblings.

There was plenty of beer and weed, at each stop we quenched our thirst, or took a hit. It was a joyous night, for many of us had now graduated and this was a night to celebrate.

Life in my youth was idyllic, the country folk were very generous and nobody complained if we respectfully took a hand of bananas, some corn or any or the ingredients we needed to prepare the planned culinary delight.

We arrived in Negril in the wee hours, having lost all track of time, with freedom for the next 8 weeks, who cared anyway.

A fire was started and soon a large pot of crab soup was brewing, Rodney the resident weedhead pulled out a chillum pipe, tapped it full of herb and sparked it up. We passed the pipe around, most of the girls declined saying it was too strong but Lindy, offered to try and with a dare the other girls soon joined in.

The moonlight sparkled across the ocean, the water flat as glass. Music boomed from the speakers in one of the station wagons. Seven miles of pristine beach was ours as we danced barefoot in the sand. The night was warm so without inhibition we all removed our clothes and ran to the water. The beach in Negril is incredible shallow at low tide you can walk out for miles without the water rising above your waist and even at high tide it only got a few inches higher. Back in the 60's the hippies discovered what we always knew, this place was paradise.

The guys were all horny, the girls checked us out sneaking glimpses of our cocks. We played around in the water, accidentally brushing a tit, here, touching an ass there, the girls responded in kind touching and grabbing our cocks playfully, everyone trying to see how far we could go.

At times one of the girls was sandwiched between too guys rubbing up each other against hips grinding, rotating to the music. The sensuality of our music can be attributed to our culture, when unshackled from religious restraints, life becomes a bacchanal celebration.

Our cocks now hard, one of the guys lead a girl out of the water, sucking her titties he began to finger her pussy, her groaning excited everyone and we all started chanting. Soon the other girls began to participate spreading their legs and offering their sweet pussies, willing mouths and hands took care of the guys yet unpaired. Flaying arms and legs, branched out as guys traded places sampling the delights of our companions.

In our drug induced euphoria it was hard to keep track of what went on, but I imagine that we didn't stop until each girl had been fucked at least once by each of the guys.

The delicious smell of soup was very inviting, hungry now, we imbibed its rich flavor.
Tradition tells it has an aphrodisiac effect...