My wife Mandy and I spent a two-week holiday in Cap d'Agde in the south of France in September. We stayed in the naturist section, called Port Ambonne, which has a reputation as a place where couples come to have fun after the family holiday season has finished. We had such a wild time that we just had to write down our holiday experiences so that other people can enjoy them too. This is what happened on the first evening of our holiday.
After our wank in the surf, Mandy and I lay on the beach for a couple of hours or more, soaking up the sun and every so often rubbing sun tan oil all over each other. We both dozed off to sleep and it was already 6:30 when Mandy woke me to say we needed to buy some things from the supermarket. Over at the crowded section of the beach that Gunter had pointed out there seemed to be a lot of people standing in a circle as if they were looking at something, but we took no notice. We gathered up our things and, not bothering to put on my shorts, I followed my naked wife off the beach and through the streets of the resort, first to buy some steak, salad and wine for dinner, and then to our apartment.
I was getting more used to the nudity now, though at first it seemed a bit strange to walk round a supermarket with no clothes on. Still, the other shoppers were naked too – except for a pale-skinned blonde woman in a white nylon dress – completely see-through with nothing at all underneath – next to the meat counter.
"I see you're starting to appreciate the scenery," Mandy said, looking down at my cock which had started to stiffen again. With a shopping bag in each hand there wasn't much I could do about it.
We got back to the apartment, grilled our steak and ate it with the salad, washing it down with some local red wine. Then we took turns to shower and get ready to go out. I was soon ready but Mandy was in the shower for quite a long time. When she came out she disappeared straight into the bedroom with a large white towel wrapped demurely round her. I started to follow her but she stopped me.
"Let me get ready alone," she said. "I hope I've got something suitable to put on." I judged by the grin on her face that I was going to be in for a treat.
We were due to meet Jim and Linda at 10 o'clock and it was only 9, so there was no rush. I went out onto the balcony and looked around. The street lights were on, illuminating the street beneath us, the broad pathway beyond it and part of the grassy area beyond that. Unlike in the afternoon, there were now lots of people around. I felt my jaw drop as I saw a couple approaching down the road. The guy was in jeans, and he walked arm-in-arm with a long-haired blonde who seemed to be in her underwear – black bra, thong and hold-up stockings – with a filmy see-through sarong knotted round her waist. Behind them came another couple – this time the woman was in silver high-heeled shoes and a tight shimmery silver dress that reached no further than her pussy. Beyond her came a woman in a see-through dress, bra and thong, then another in even less.
I was starting to feel horny. "Hey Mandy," I shouted, "come and look at this."
"No, you come and look at this," was the reply. I turned round and there in the balcony doorway was Mandy. "I think I'm ready to go now," she said.
"My god," was all I could say. In one sense the dress was quite demure – pink and purple floral patterned – but that was where demureness ended. From her left shoulder the dress was cut diagonally so that it just barely covered her right breast and passed round her right side halfway to her waist. The hem of the dress was a couple of inches above her pussy, though it also had a pink fringe about four inches long. As soon as she moved towards me the fringe parted to reveal a tiny purple g-string. On the unlit balcony that was all I saw but when we went inside into the light I realized the dress was completely see-through. Her breasts were totally visible and her nipples added to the pattern. You could see the sides and back of her g-string through the transparent material. The front of the g-string was hidden by the fringe – but only so long as she stood perfectly still.
"Do you like it?" she asked.
"Not bad," I said "Not bad for a start."
"You men are never satisfied," she replied. "But never mind. If you don't like it I can always put a sweater on."
"You look fabulous," I said. She looked down at my cotton slacks. There was a bulge where my cock had gone rigid again.
"Come on," she said. "Let's go meet Jim and Linda." And she turned and led the way out of the apartment with the swinging fringe showing her bum cheeks as she walked.
We'd arranged to meet Jim and Linda at the Montrose bar. This was originally a small pub in a row of shops with a pavement in front. The pavement is kept clear so you can walk past the shops, but beyond it the pub now has a large marquee with several bars, an assortment of high stools, and a DJ. The roof is held up by tall poles that have circular tables built round them at chest height. All the bars and tables are built to be danced on – sometimes by professional entertainers, sometimes by the barmaids, but most often by the female customers. And – so we soon found out – dancing at the Montrose means stripping off in public.
We found the Montrose bar by following the noise and the parade of scantily-clad women heading there with their partners. At 10 o'clock the place was full, and the sight of so many erotically dressed women in one place was a new one for me.
One side of the huge tent was open. I didn't know where to look first. The Montrose attracts a lot of couples and there wasn't one woman in the place who wasn't a walking sex object. We edged past a bra-less woman in a pale blue see-through blouse. She was talking to a woman sitting on a high stool in a white PVC outfit that showed ample tit and was so short it didn't even reach under her bum. A young woman in a black net top and microscopic skirt was wearing Doc Martens boots. Another woman in a black see-through dress had only a small g-string under it, while yet another in a pink see-through dress had nothing else on at all.
There were net dresses, bead dresses, topless outfits, and a few bottomless ones as well. One blonde woman in her 40s wore a low-slung denim skirt of no more than eight inches with a glittery white thong showing above and below it. Apart from that and her shoes, she had nothing on but jewelry.
"Dan, Mandy, over here," someone shouted. I spotted Jim and Linda beckoning to us so we made our way towards them through the mass of near-naked bodies.
"Great to see you again," I said. "Wow, I like your outfit," I told Linda as I admired her breasts through her tight transparent crop-top. Her short skirt was split at the side almost to the waistband, and though she wore a black suspender belt and stockings it was obvious she had no knickers on.
We chatted for a while, both Jim and I taking in the sights of erotically-clad female flesh all round us. A woman in a red shiny minidress and white boots was dancing on a table near us. The sound system pounded out a song that was unintelligible but with a heavy beat that had everyone clapping as the dancer pulled the dress slowly higher and higher – over her bum, up her back, round her shoulders, and then over her head. Now she had only a flimsy white thong on, and moments later she had wriggled out of that too. She'd been facing the other way but as she gyrated round the tent-pole and turned in our direction I recognized her as Marie from the balcony above ours. Mandy and I both shouted and cheered above the general din. As Marie saw us she put her hand between her legs, rubbed it against her hairless pussy, and then put it to her lips and blew us a kiss before clambering naked off the table into the waiting arms of her partner.
"I really like this shaved pussy fashion," Jim said.
"So do I," I responded.
"Well it's a good job I've shaved mine then," both our wives said almost in unison, giggling loudly when they realized they'd both said the same thing.
