Confession Point

In the mid-eighties we took our holiday in the South of France.
We were both in our late twenties then.
We had travelled down by coach, and during the journey we got chatting to a couple during the rest stops, although a they were a bit older then us. They were staying on the site next to us, but promised to visit us sometime during the holiday. “I hope they don’t my wife said later. I didn’t like him (the husband) very much at all. He gives me the creeps”.
By the second week we’d forgotten about them, and on the Wednesday evening we were going to the Karaoke night at the local bar, which was upstairs above the site supermarket.
I’d persuaded my wife, Mary,to go without knickers that evening, although she had on a very short skirt. I’d assured her that no one could see anything, even when she sat down. (This was not true but she believed me) We were just finishing our drinks, ready to go, when someone knocked the door. It was the couple from the coach. “Hello” they said “We thought we’d see if we could buy you a drink”. We told them where we were going and felt obliged to them invite along. They came in and had a drink with us. I took the opportunity to give my wife another glass as well. We were soon ready to go and made our way to the bar. As soon as he saw the bar was upstairs the husband somehow got between me and Mary and followed her up the stairs, keeping 2 or 3 steps between them, allowing him a birds eye view up her skirt. It was very obvious to me that he had a good view of her hairy cunt as she climbed the stairs above him. She was totally unaware of the show she had given the old letch, and still does not know.
After the show was over we went back to our caravan for a nightcap. Mary and I sat on the settee, he sat on the seat directly opposite, his wife to our left He had a birds eye view up my wifes skirt again. Mary was totally unaware because of my earlier white lie. Her pussy was again on show for him to see. As he finished his drink he said that he would like to take a few pictures of us to remember us by. He knelt on the floor and took half a dozen photos in total. Each one would show Mary’s hairy cunt.He thanked us and suggested to his wife that she exchanged addresses with Mary so they could keep in touch. Knowing Mary’s thoughts of him I know she grudgingly agreed.
Would we see them again?