My first nudist experience came by accident when I was 32 years old. Prior to that, I were raised in an extremely small family where my mother forbid my father to get Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyway.) It felt comfortable, but I never dreamed I would ever try it in front of others. However, skinny-dipping was on my mental “Bucket List” to attempt sometime in my entire life when – or if – I ever could summon the courage.
My wife, like my mom, was extremely self conscious about her body. What nudity there was in our house was restricted to streaking from the bathroom to the bedroom after a shower. On this specific day, the three of us happened to be exploring tide pools near Paradise Cove on the coastline of the Pacific just north of Los Angeles. My daughter was fascinated by the sea creatures trapped in the water at low tide, so we regularly visited different beaches along the 50 miles of county shoreline where these pools might be explored.
On this particular Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, looking for the tide pool place a specific guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a special corner to find a lengthy beach maybe a half mile long, that was covered with naked bodies. We must go – now!” At that instant, my daughter squealed with joy and took off running down the beach and into the bunch. She’d completely forgotten about any tide pools.
“I always wanted to attempt this,” I confessed to my wife. “Dont you dare!” she gently but firmly answered. From her tone I knew I couldnt press the issue any farther. After we regained our daughter and got her dressed, we turned south and returned to our car and left.
Nevertheless, I happened to mention our accidental discovery to a co-worker a few days after. He nonchalantly acknowledged he along with his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to hear this. Nudists lived among us! Who knew?
A year passed, and the next summer my wife and daughter left to see her sister in Washington State. I stayed behind for another week to complete an important project on the job. young family nudism of days after, the exact same co-worker came into my office and closed the door.
“What?”
“Remember last year you told me about the nude beach? Nows your time to go without your wife finding out.”
“No, I couldnt do that. I’d feel like I was cheating or something.”
Come on down Saturday with Gail and me.”
Well, I was nervous enough about the idea but going with folks from work was totally out of the question. “Fine, but I need to go by myself the first time.” But as the days passed, I began thinking that perhaps this might be my only opportunity to attempt it, and I started making strategies.
That Saturday morning I drove to Paradise Cove and retraced our steps from the prior year, up the shore, until I got to exactly the same large, sandy beach just south of Pt. Dume. Just I got there early and there was hardly anyone else there. I walked about midway down, spread my blanket, and sat there, alone, not wanting to be the sole one on the shore who wasnt wearing my swim suit. It took a few hours, but by the time the sun was overhead many others began to arrive. Some were families, some were couples, and some were obvious groups of friends who had done this many times before. They all dropped their suits like they’d done it a thousand times before (they probably had) with not a hint of self-consciousness or shyness. They unpacked umbrellas and sand chairs and Frisbees and footballs, same as on any seashore. Just these folks had no tan lines.
I reach my first moment of truth once I knew it was time to either join in or leave. So I pulled off my suit and immediately rolled onto my belly, thinking, “Oh wow, I really did it! I truly did it!”
About a half hour later came the second moment of truth. That is when I realized I was burning in areas that hadn’t been exposed to sunlight before, and I was going to have to turn over. But I had a better idea: I would head for the cool ocean water and hide my privates there.
So I summoned all the courage I had, and stood up. young nudist pictures was particular everyones head would turn and I would be exposed for everyone to judge. After a couple of moments I realized they werent looking at me. Im having a nervous breakdown here as well as the least they could do is look and admit it!” But url did. Nobody cared about me at all. Afterwards, I found that many others also go through these twin “moment of panic” their first time, simply to look back and laugh at their conceit afterwards.
By now there were several hundred men and women in the water, splashing, diving, body surfing, doing what folks everywhere do in the water. Only without clothes.
That was my moment of epiphany. I didnt expect to adore the feeling so much. I believed this whole thing would be a few moments checking off an item on my Bucket List, and then I’d go home and live the remainder of my entire life.
Nope, someday would have to return. This was an amazing, unexpected encounter, and I stayed all day. I felt no sexual tension, in fact I saw no sexuality at all. I found out later that the shore had it unofficial mayor and also a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper would occur there. So I found it actually an extremely relaxing day. I even played a small beach volleyball. Modesty and shame would have been inappropriate in this setting.
On Monday morning, first-thing, my co worker came into my office and asked, simply, “Well?” I told him I truly loved the encounter and I thanked him for talking me into going. No, I wasnt going to go back some other day with him and Gail, but maybe someday. Then something occurred I didnt expect.
A couple of hours after, another co worker came into my office and shut the door. “My partner and I saw you Saturday,” he said gently with a big grin on his face.
Oh, no! I couldnt sink far enough into my seat! He then explained he and his family go to that beach regularly and they were going to say hello but believed I might upset me (darn right it would have!).
“Is this some big conspiracy?” I inquired. “Do a lot of the folks I know go down to this type of beach?”
“More than youll ever know,” he answered. “We simply never talk about it.”
There’s a postscript to this story. We had a lovely holiday except for one thing I’d forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife asked, “What is that?”
“What?” I replied.
“It looks like your back is peeling. In fact your behind is peeling!” There was a nervous pause while her thoughts put together the puzzle. “Dont tell me you went to that shore, did you?”
I sheepishly nodded. “I knew youd never go there and I needed to attempt it.”
“Oh my God!
Sadly for her, some of our guests confessed they went to that beach (or others like it) also!
Societal nudity, as it turns out, is enormously popular, but nobody ever needs to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex-husband) thinks the world is crazy.)
bokabetga1982 