Sara found a beachfront bar with a fixable house on an adjoining lot on a French island. After a bit of negotiation, and a substantial contribution to the local authorities' pet project, we were able to have both properties designated as a "quartier naturiste." Having closed the deal, Sara largely ceded implementation to Sally.
Sara's focus shifted back to swimming. She had learned about a swimming competition which a naturist group sponsored in a large natatorium in suburban Paris. According to Sara's research, the competition was open to anyone who achieved a qualifying time, provided that you were willing to compete nude. Online, Sara had found photographs from a prior competition that showed the large amount of permanent seating in the facility.
"Imagine, all those seats filled with spectators; bending over and taking your mark on the blocks with nothing on, fully exposed before all of those people," Sara mused. Then she shifted into her determined mode. "This meet is something which we MUST do."
When Sara sets a goal, she quickly plans out how to achieve it and quickly implements her plan. Her new goal was that she and I would both compete in the nude swim meet in France. Fortunately, there were several months for us to attain the qualifying times. We'd need those months, I more than her.
Having been a competitive swimmer, Sara knew quite a bit about training. She developed a training regimen that we both adhered to rigidly (Sara because she was determined, I because I love Sara). Sara thought that ocean swimming, fighting the waves, would build strength; so we spent hours in the water off of our new home and business. Sara, who can be extremely persuasive, also found a municipal pool on our island and persuaded the authorities to let us train there a couple of days a week, very early before the pool opened to the public. Personally, I think that the men who operated the pool allowed us to do that because they enjoyed seeing Sara nude on the pool deck, as she often was. I don't blame them. Sara was, and is, a very beautiful lady, in or out of a swimsuit.
Sara had some interesting training techniques. For example, to strengthen my kick, she would have me extend both arms in front of me. Then she would tie my wrists together. While I could extend my arms over my head to dive into the pool, I could not stroke with my arms and had to rely exclusively on my kick.
Sara also entered us in every competition she could find in North America, South America, and the Caribbean. Virtually all of those competitions were clothed, which reaffirmed my strong preference for being nude when I swim. Sara acquired a couple of new competition suits. Viewed from most angles, they were simply black competition suits in the new style, running half-way down her thighs. However, if the right light, her suits became essentially transparent.
"If I have to wear something to compete, I want it to be something that still lets people see the real me," she explained. My staid young lawyer had become an exhibitionist. To my slight surprise, Sara was never questioned about those suits.
After intense work, Sara recorded qualifying times in the 100m and 200m freestyle and fly. I managed to qualify for the age-group (read "Geezer") competition in the 50m and 100m breaststroke. Sara was thrilled. I'm not sure that Sally was enthused about the two of us devoting so much time to this just as we were starting a new business. We asked Sally to come to France to take pictures of us at the meet. She declined, arguing that someone had to stay on the island to "mind the store." We had hired an American couple who had been cruising the Caribbean to work as our cook and chief bartender. Sally was forming a close relationship with them.
Living on a French island, we had direct flights to Paris Charles DeGaulle airport. Sara and I landed two days before the competition started. After a day playing restrained tourist in Paris, we went to the far suburb where the competition was held the day before the meet to check in. Fully clothed, a young lady with the naturist federation gave us our passes, a meet schedule (en francais), and assigned us to a dorm room. She also showed us around the pool area, explaining, per Sara's translation, that the natatorium seated 5,100 people and all sessions of the meet were sold out. She showed us the surprisingly small unisex changing and shower rooms under the stands, and pointed out that there were no lockers so we should bring as little as possible when we came to compete.
The dorm being used to house the swimmers was a very large, drab building about two blocks from the natatorium. I've no idea what it is used for normally. Our assigned room was on the fourth floor. Upon entering, we learned that we had roommates: two German ladies. While they were pleasant enough, it created a problem as the room had only two beds. While Sara and I intended to sleep together, the German ladies made clear that they did not. Oh well, I'd slept on the floor before and Sara could use me as a mattress. The room had a small WC. There was a large communal shower down the hall.
The pool was open for practice that afternoon. Sara and I did a few practice laps, found a tolerable bistro for an early dinner, and went to sleep early. Because the whole competition was shoe-horned into two days, the meet started at 9:00 the next morning. At 6:00, the shower was full of people shaving their, or their partners', whole bodies. Sara and I shaved each other, put on warm-ups, and were at the pool by 8:00 as directed.
By 8:30, we could hear a crowd over our heads in the stands. An official stood on a bench and explained, in French and English, that the competition would start with the competitors marching into the pool area and around the pool deck. We were then to be seated in the competitors' area while there was a short ceremony, and then heats would begin. At that point, the official asked us to please remove all of our clothes.
After stripping down, we formed into a two column line to march into the pool. There were more swimmers than the change room could hold, so we were pressed firmly into the bare skin of the couple in front of us, as two people behind us were pressed into us. My dick was jammed against of the brunette in front of me.
"Its not quite where I'd fancy it, but having a penis touching my body anywhere is a right start to my day," the brunette said in an Australian accent, turning her head towards me as much as she could. In the moments before entering into the pool, we became friends of a sort with the brunette, Dawn, and her partner, Geoff. Since Sara and I were in full bare body contact with them, conversation was inevitable. They seemed a very pleasant couple.
The lines decompressed as the swimmers began entering the pool. The first thing that struck me was that the pool area was much cooler than the cramped change room. The second was that the stands were, indeed, full of clothed spectators. Geoff turned half around to us and said "great fun to be walking starkers in front of all this lot, right?"
