My wife Mandy and I spent a two-week holiday in Cap d'Agde in the south of France last September. We stayed in the naturist section, called Port Ambonne, which turned out to be a great place to have a wild time. Lot's of swingers congregate there – especially after the family holiday season has finished. I wanted to experiment with some mild swinging, Mandy said she was game to try it, and we ended up doing things that were a lot hotter than we'd expected. Here's what happened during the seventh day of our holiday.
We were up and having breakfast by 9:00 on the Friday morning. We'd decided to go to the market in the old town of Agde and we wanted to be there early since Pierre and Marie, who we'd been out with the night before, had told us it would be over by lunchtime. By 9:45 we'd both showered and dressed – or at least I had. Mandy had some pink rubber flip-flops on her feet and was putting on lipstick and mascara but otherwise she was still naked.
"Hurry up and put some clothes on," I said. "We're supposed to be going out to see the local sights."
"You mean the sight of my boobs and pussy isn't enough for you," she asked. "Oh well, if I really must wear something." She disappeared into the bedroom and came out with her white denim miniskirt and spaghetti-strap top in her hand. "I'll put them on when we get to the car," she said.
We walked to our bright green Renault Clio which was parked in the shade of the building. Although it was not yet 10:00 the air was hot and Mandy turned right round several times with her arms held out and her face turned up to the sun.
"I love having the sun on my naked body," she said.
"Yes but we're going outside the resort so you'd better wear something for a few hours at least," I told her as I held the passenger door open for her.
"I guess you're right," Mandy answered. "If we go out of the resort I suppose I'll have to cover up a bit. But I'll still keep my pussy on show for you while we're in the car if you like."
She held out her white denim skirt with the ragged cut-off hem and stepped into it, zipping it and buttoning it at her waist. There wasn't much of it but it did manage to hide her pussy as she stood there. She turned to show me the back – it even covered her bum cheeks while she remained bolt upright without moving. Then on went the stretchy cotton top. It was a tight fit and the white material was thin enough for the dark aureoles of her nipples to show quite clearly through it.
Mandy gave me a generous display of shaved pussy as she got in the car. "Maybe we can find some places where I can take photos of you flashing in public," I said.
"Great idea," was her reply. "It's a pity that photography is not allowed in the bars and clubs here at Cap d'Agde. Still, while we're out I'll pose for some pictures for you. Just tell me what you want me to do and you can photograph me doing it."
It can't be more than 15 miles from the coast to the small town of Agde but the road is narrow with too much traffic and the Agde public car park was full. So it nearly 11:00 by the time we pulled into a space in a back street on the edge of the hilltop town.
Mandy had lived up to her promise and given me a good display of pussy on the way to Agde, though she was disappointed by the single-lane road. "The next time we go out let's take the motorway," she said. "Then I can show off to truck drivers when you overtake them."
We followed the general flow of people along the cobbled streets lined by stone buildings until we reached the market square. The square was full of market stalls and thronged with people so we edged our way along with the crowd, admiring the heaps of fruit and vegetables, the rows of bottles of local wine, the cut-price pots and pans, the piles of socks and shoes, and the rails full of women's clothes.
At one stage we got so hemmed in by the crowd that we couldn't move forward. Mandy, who was in front of me, leaned back against me. I dropped my hands to her bum and pulled up the back of her miniskirt. She made no objection as I slipped my hand between her legs and rubbed her pussy. "Yes please," she said as we stood there with hundreds of people around us, so I slipped a finger inside her, then two. Mandy turned to face me, put her arms round my neck, and kissed me. Then the crowd started moving again and we had to move with them. "What a pity," she said. "I was just starting to enjoy that."
We found a part of the market where the crowd was thinner and bought some fruit and vegetables. Mandy found a stall selling the most way-out shoes, some of them with ridiculously high heels. She tried some on and could barely walk in them, but nevertheless she decided to buy a couple of pairs – some red sandals with five-inch heels and straps round the ankles, and a pair of cheap and tacky high-heeled thigh boots in leopard-skin patterned plastic.
"Do they look trashy?" Mandy asked, trying on the boots in front of the stall and showing plenty of bum and pussy to passers-by as she did so.
"Yes, very trashy, but they're also very sexy," I replied. "They make you look really slutty."
"Great," she said. "I don't expect they'll be very comfortable, but I'm happy if they turn you on."
"I'm sure they'll turn a lot of men on," I said.
"Even better," was Mandy's reply. "The more the merrier."
After that we passed by a clothes stall where Mandy bought a blue denim skirt, a white lace skirt with a lining and a cheap red stretchy minidress. She tried them all on behind a couple of curtains rigged up for the purpose and in each case chose a size that was too small.
"You can hardly squeeze into those," I warned her as she bought them.
"I'm not planning to squeeze into them," she said. "I'm planning to spill out of them. After a few alterations they'll be fine, I assure you."
An hour later, with a bag of wholesome-looking vegetables, a bottle of sophisticated-looking local wine, and a collection of slutty-looking clothes for Mandy, we sat at a table outside a café to watch the world go by. As the waitress put our drinks on the table, I gazed at the shape of her bra-less breasts and the darkness of her nipples that were just visible through her white cotton blouse. And as she walked away I watched the movement of her butt cheeks under her tight black skirt.
"You can't keep your eyes off other women, can you Dan?"
"It's difficult," I answered Mandy. "The waitress is quite cute."
"Oh I don't mind," said Mandy. "When you look at other women it reminds me to do more to keep your attention." So saying, she leaned back in her chair and edged her skirt up a couple of inches. It was a short skirt anyway, and as soon as her shaven pussy came into view Mandy opened her legs so I could get a better view.
"Wow," I said, "that's a beautiful sight," I gasped.
"Well, take a photo then," she said. "I won't be doing this in the tea room in the high street back home."
I found the digital camera among our belongings and took a few snapshots of Mandy's short skirt and pussy. Then I moved my chair back so I could get some pictures showing not just the short skirt and bare pussy but also the rest of Mandy and a bit of the background too – a roadside café near a busy market with lots of passers-by.
"God, you're so sexy," I told her.
"Thanks," Mandy said. "I aim to please, you know."
