Our Trip To Sexual Sharing
It was May and we hadn't decided on our summer plans, but we wanted something special, something to mark our fifth year together. We'd been to Spain, traveled through England with backpacks and walking sticks, and sailed to Australia where we drove around the country. We had been to Cancun, Peru, and Antarctica. We are travelers, so trekking around the world is nothing to us. We both had college degrees and taught at a university in Los Angeles.
Whatever we did had to be something really unique and memorable. We looked through travel brochures and websites trying to find just the right trip for our fifth anniversary. It had to be extraordinary and something we'd never done, something to challenge us, and offer a change.
After two weeks of looking, Claire came home with a big smile on her face. "I found a place we wouldn't even have to pack for," she announced as she came into the kitchen holding a pamphlet and waving it at me over her head. "You could swim every day and wear only sandals and dark glasses, maybe a hat."
"A hat?" I said. "No shorts?"
"It's a naked city in the south of France," she announced with delight. "All the shops, the restaurants, the beaches, parks, everywhere it is all nude. No one wears clothes, except for maybe in church. I don't know about church, but everywhere else it is naked people in sandals and sun hats," she said excitedly. "We wouldn't even have to buy new wardrobes, just new sandals and glasses, maybe a new hat."
We looked at one another, each waiting for the other to speak. "I do like to swim," I said with a grin. "We've never been around naked people, except Clara and Ron at the hot springs," I added.
"And we could travel the south of France, visit nude beaches on the French Riviera. We could be naked travelers, looking for new places to strip down and be completely natural," she said practically bubbling with enthusiasm.
"You always say we have to try new things. This would be completely untried, totally out of our comfort zone," she said.
"You talk to anyone who has been there?" I asked.
"I met two nudists, Wendy and Mike," she said. "They go every year. They said they'd meet with us and suggest some places to go, the address for reservations, and she gave me a coupon for a discount on the trip itself. Oh think about it," she said. "I would like to go. It is called Cap d'Adge, like Cap Dog," she explained.
"You could go shopping naked?" I asked her.
"Wendy says it's liberating. You just get used to always being not dressed," my wife said. Her enthusiasm was contagious and I began to think about it as a possible destination. It didn't take much more for her to convince me, and we began planning our naked trek.
We flew from LAX to Paris on the first of June, then we rented a car at the airport and drove the mini Mercedes south to Avignon and got a room for two nights. Wendy and Mike had recommended it as a great place to stop, eat at the Palace Restaurant and be sure to have crepes at one of the street stands inside the city.
The dive was lovely and we had our room reserved when we got there. The river ran right next to the city and we drove around seeing the country. People eat really late in Europe and we were ready for dinner at seven, but when we arrived at the restaurant at seven fifteen it was almost totally deserted.
They took pity on us and the chef cooked our meal and we ate in a restaurant with only waitresses and one head waiter, a busboy and the chef. Claire had swordfish and I had prime rib to die for. The dessert was the best cheesecake I have ever put in my mouth. Even earlier than anyone else, it was a meal for the ages.
The next day we strolled the streets of Avignon and ate crepes from a vendor, attended a concert, and were in bed by ten. Avignon was certainly a good choice and we texted Wendy and Mike our thanks.
From Avignon we drove south and headed for Cap d'Adge along the southern coast of France on the Mediterranean. When we arrived we met a hostess who gave us a pamphlet about the city that provided a map, listed restaurants, hotels, rules, and warnings about sun protection and suggestions about expected courtesies and customs. We drove around getting familiar with the area, then picked a hotel and parked in the underground parking.
We registered for six days, figuring we may drive on to Cannes later the next week. At the hotel we met an American couple from Michigan named Julia and Keith. He was an airline pilot and she taught second grade. They lived in Detroit and came to Cap d'Agde every year. They had been nudists since just after they were married and vacationed in California and stumbled on a nude beach.
They offered to show us around and treated us like long lost relatives, as if we had known them for years. "They certainly are friendly," I said once we got in our own room.
"I like them," Claire said. "I think they are our kind of people," she said. I just nodded and continued to put the few clothes I brought in drawers and my toiletries in the bathroom.
The next day we met Julia and Keith for breakfast, then walked with them to a beach that was close. It was strange being nude on the street, but it wasn't long before it felt completely natural, after all, everyone else was also nude and it began to feel good to be undressed with the others.
The beach was fairly rocky and the beach was narrow with not much sand between the ocean and the road. We found a spot and set up beside Julia and Keith. He was an airline frisbee fantastic and could do all sorts of tricks with the frisbee. He called them discs and explained it had been invented by a man named Fred Morrison.
He and I played catch with the disc much of the day. We met a French couple name Christian and Mary Lore. They had lived in California for a few years and spoke fluent English. Christian was an auto mechanic and his wife was a translator at the American Embassy.
Keith was very helpful, reminding Claire she needed to be careful of sunburn and keep sunscreen on at all times. He was especially helpful in offering to apply all the protection she needed throughout the day.
That night I was getting out of the shower and I commented how much I liked Keith and Julia. "They certainly like you," I said.
"Well, you know they're swingers," she said.
"Where did you get that idea?" I said. "They're just really friendly."
"Julia told me," Claire said, "when you were playing frisbee. They belong to a swingers' club in Detroit," she said. "They like us because she thinks we might be interested."
"Are we?" I asked.
"Well, you probably are with Julia," Claire said. "She was eyeing you all day. Don't say you didn't notice."
"I was busy playing frisbee," I said.
"And you didn't notice her tight little ass?"
"Hard not to," I said. "We were all naked. But you didn't notice the manly extremity hanging between Keith's legs?"
"I did, yes," she said softly, admitting she had noticed our new friend's penis size.
"You tempted?" I asked.
"In getting real close to our new friends?" she said.
"Real close?" I said.
"We have talked about it," she said.
"But we were both too chicken," I said. "I thought we were going to at the hot springs with Ron and Clara," I said.
"So did I," she said. "Why didn't we?"
"Because the ranger showed up and chased us out, remember, otherwise I think we just might have become swingers that night," I said.
"Yeah, I remember. I think Ron had an erection most of the night," she said.