"Come and look at this," Sophie called.
I was busy loading our camper van. Sophie had set out everything she wanted us to bring, and it was her coffee break, doing some last minute browsing for campsites and places to visit. I put down the box of groceries I was about to load, kissed the top of my wife's beautiful blonde head, and checked the screen of her laptop to see what she had called me over for.
Sophie had paused what looked like some kind of trailer. A girl was walking down a sunlit shopping street. It looked like a European city. Most people were in jeans and tops, or dresses. It seemed like late spring or summer. The sun was high and the street was half in shade. What had made Sophie call me over was the girl. She was blonde, like Sophie, and she was naked. When Sophie clicked, the girl started walking again, glancing at the people around her, giving the occasional half smile, clearly feeling daring but embarrassed both at once.
As if she needed to explain, Sophie said that she had been looking for naturist resorts. A web-site had shown up, nude in public, and she had been curious. What we were looking at was the site's trailer. It cut from the blonde in the street to another girl in a park, with an impressive building in the background, and then another girl. It seemed like they had filmed girls in parks, cities, including one named as Budapest, in the countryside, wherever but always naked, and walking as if being naked in public was the most natural thing in the world.
"Would it turn you on?" Sophie asked.
We were on the autoroute du sud, more than halfway through France, at a steady seventy miles an hour, and I was watching the traffic, lots of cars laden for holidays, many of them impatient to reach their destination. I was staying in the slow lane, letting them overtake. In a camper van you learn not to be impatient. You will always get there in the end.
"Would what turn me on?" I asked her.
"If I went nude in public," Sophie grinned.
"Seriously?" I asked.
"I don't know," she said. Then paused.
"But if I did, I mean, hypothetically," she said. "Would it turn you on?"
This was my wife asking me. She was thirty two. The girls in the trailer had been at most a couple of years either side of twenty. Their figures were pretty good, but then so is Sophie's. She keeps herself slim, her waist is trim, and she has neat breasts, not over endowed, but shapely, with unusual areoles that sit slightly proud, enticing mounds of pink that invite you to touch, or kiss, or suck on them, drawing them right inside your mouth.
I kept driving, thinking about what she was asking me, and why. Hypothetically. A big theoretical word for an interesting scenario.
It was not as if either of us was strangers to nudity. Even before we married, we were enjoying holidays together on France's naturist beaches. Then we tried out naturist campsites, not just lying on the sand naked, but getting up naked, having breakfast naked, going to the camp-site shop naked, doing everything naked. Some even had open shower areas in their washrooms. That was why Sophie had been checking out places to go. We enjoyed the lifestyle.
Just the same, being naked in public is slightly different. What the girls on the trailer had been doing was not at naturist campsites. It was in ordinary parks, gardens, streets, squares, filling stations, tram stops, with everyone else around them just getting on with their day to day lives, heads turning at the naked girl walking through.
And for Sophie, being naked would mean revealing more than most of the girls featured on the trailer. They may have been totally naked, but Sophie wears a ring.
Actually, Sophie wears two rings.
We both wear the traditional wedding rings that we exchanged when we were married. They are a matching pair, in gold, with bevelled edges. Sophie also wears another ring that you can only see when she naked, because it is set through her labia, and since she regularly depilates, the ring is not exactly hidden. Labial piercings are not that uncommon in the naturist community, and Sophie had hers done four years ago, after a conversation a campsite neighbour who already wore one, and who was talking up the way that it enhanced her sexual enjoyment.
So Sophie being naked in a public place would be pretty daring, and if there was an possibility the Sophie's question was more than hypothetical, I was not about to discourage her. Yes, it was a turn on. But I took care not to seem too keen. It just might put her off.
"It could be amusing," I said, not taking my eyes off the road.
"Just amusing?" Sophie asked.
"No," I said. "Not just amusing."
Now I took my eyes off the road, and gave my wife a look. I did not say the words, but she knew that I was gently daring her.
We do not always head straight for the beach. Once you are far enough south the sun is hot, and there are beautiful places you can explore that are more countryside than coast. We had parked up at a river. The parking area was at one side of a village, and there was a pathway you could walk along the river which curved gently between low hills, and allowed everyone who went there to find their own space for sunbathing and picnicking.
It was not naturist, but find a quiet location, and no one really minds. We spent an afternoon helping our tans along, the first real exposure of the holiday, still on Factor 30, especially the more sensitive nits and pieces. We had read a little, dozed a little, eaten a little and drunk a little, only soft drinks in the daytime, nothing alcoholic, nothing to make Sophie particularly daring.
Around five, we decided to pack up. I put on my shorts and tee shirt and helped Sophie to pack our things into the backpack we had brought. Sophie was still squatting naked and everything was packed away, apart from her own shorts, clingy teeshirt, and her sandals. She picked up her clothes and tucked them in the back pack. Then her sandals. Then she stood.
"You go ahead," she said.
She was barefoot on a hard earth track, looking up at me, slightly nervously, but I did not argue. I picked up the back pack, put it over one shoulder, appreciating it being lighter from our drinking at least a litre each, took her by the arm and kissed her. Then I started down the track, back towards the parking area twenty minutes' walk away.
I checked back from time to time. Sophie started following when I was maybe a hundred yards ahead. No one was in sight, but that did not mean that no one would appear. And someone did.
It was just a guy, in his forties, out with his dog, a black and brown alsation that was off the lead and roaming. The guy was in baggy trousers and a shirt, and greeted me with a pleasant "bonsoir" as we passed each other.
I checked back.
The dog got to Sophie first, sniffing around her legs as she continued walking. The guy called the dog by name, and it trotted back to him. A moment later the guy together with his dog passed Sophie. She had hesitated. Just walked on, casually, as natural as anything. And that was where it got to me. A total stranger had just seen my wife nude, her breasts, with those cute mounds of pink areaoles, her hairless sex, protruding labia, and wedding ring sized gold piercing. My cock reacted, but like Sophie, I walked on.
Round a curve in the path, a couple in their twenties were lying on a rug, her head on his arm. I glanced at them as I passed. He kind of nodded. She smiled. They did not know it, but they were about to have my wife pass by as well.
Then a couple of cyclists, him and her, both in lycra shorts and tops, racing bikes with multiple gears and cables, using their bell to warn me they were coming, using it again to warn Sophie, three times more to express their appreciation or their disapproval.
Then I was back at the parking area, only half a dozen other vehicles there, one of them an open sided van selling drinks and ices. Just beyond the parking area, there were cultivated gardens with a concrete walkway along the river front by the village. People were walking, sitting, paying. Three people were queuing at the van, what seemed to be a couple, and a guy on his own.
I walked to our campervan, unlocked it, put the back pack inside the door behind my seat, and waited for my wife. She walked down the track, across the parking area, and joined me.
"Fancy a drink?" I asked.
Sophie looked at the van, and the short queue.
"Okay," she said.
I gave her ten euros, and she walked across.
At six it was still light. The curtains were drawn but the light still came in. It was a different car park, ten minutes' drive away. That was as far as we had got.
I love it when Sophie is wet for me already.
My cock slid inside her, all the way, as she reached up to draw me down, grinning up at me.
"Impressed?" she asked.
"Maybe," was as much as I would concede.
I started thrusting, enjoying her deliciously tight pussy. She pushed up with her buttocks each time I thrust into her, grinding herself against me.
She started doing that soon after getting pierced. The ring is set so that it grazes her clit. She tells me she gets nice sensations just from walking. When the ring gets compressed between our bodies, it stimulates her even more. She never had difficulties coming to her climax, but the ring has made it even easier, and I have never minded the unfairness that she can come several times before I do. I love giving her that enjoyment.
"The guy with the dog," Sophie said, "took a really good look."
I was still thrusting, nice and steady, and she was still meeting each thrust.
"I bet he did," I said.
