My First Time

My first nudist experience came by accident once I was 32 years old. Prior to that, I were raised in a very small family where my mother prohibit my father to get Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyhow.) 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 life when - or if - I ever could summon the nerve.
My wife, like my mom, was incredibly 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. 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 coastline where these pools might be explored.
On this particular Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, searching for the tide pool place a certain guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a particular corner to find a lengthy shore perhaps a half mile long, that was covered with nude bodies. We should go - now!" At naturism , my daughter squealed with delight and took off running down the shore and into the group. She'd totally forgotten about any tide pools.
" https://vimeo.com/user117080579 liked to attempt this," I admitted to my wife. " http://web.sfusd.edu/Services/research_public/Lists/Sample%20Copy/DispForm.aspx?ID=117872 dare!" she quietly but firmly answered. From her tone I knew I couldnt press the issue any further.
As a family we never went back. Yet, I happened to mention our accidental discovery to a coworker several days after. He nonchalantly admitted he and his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to discover this. Nudists dwelt among us! Who knew?
A year passed, and the next summer my lovely wife and daughter left to visit her sister in Washington State. I stayed behind for another week to finish an important project at work. A few days afterwards, the same coworker came into my office and closed the door. "Nows your chance," he said.
"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 would feel like I was cheating or something."
"Nah, how would she ever find out?
Well, I was nervous enough about the idea but going with folks from work was totally out of the question. "Alright, but I need to go by myself the very first time." I believe I said it as much to stop the dialog and get him out of the office as to be serious about what I was saying. But as the days passed, I began thinking that maybe this might be my only chance 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 the exact same big, 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 needing to be the only one on the seashore who wasnt wearing my swim suit. It took a couple of hours, but by the time the sun was overhead many others started 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 likely 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. Only 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 promptly rolled onto my belly, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! I really did it!"
About a half hour after came the second moment of truth. That's when I realized I was burning in areas that hadn't been subjected to sunlight before, and I was going to need to turn over. But I had a better idea: I would head for the cool ocean water and conceal my privates there.
So I summoned all the courage I had, and stood up. I was certain everyones head would turn and I 'd be exposed for everyone to judge. After several seconds I realized they werent looking at me. Im having a nervous breakdown here as well as the least they could do is look and recognize it!" But nobody did. Afterwards, I found that many others also go through these twin "instant of terror" their first time, just to look back and laugh at their conceit after.
By now there were several hundred people in the water, splashing, diving, body surfing, doing what people everywhere do in the water. Only without clothing.
I didnt expect to adore the feeling so much. I thought this whole thing would be a few minutes checking off an item on my Bucket List, and then I would go home and live the remainder of my own life.
beach party , someday would have to come back. beach blondes was an amazing, sudden encounter, and I stayed all afternoon. I felt no sexual tension, in fact I saw no sexuality whatsoever. I found out afterwards that the beach had it unofficial mayor along with a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper would happen there. So I found it really a very relaxing day. I even played a little beach volleyball. Modesty and shame would have been improper in this setting.
On Monday morning, first-thing, my coworker came into my office and asked, just, "Well?" I told him I actually appreciated the encounter and I thanked him for talking me into going. No, I wasnt going to go back another day with him and Gail, but maybe someday. Then something happened 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 quietly with a big smile on his face.
Oh, no! I couldnt sink far enough into my chair! Then he explained he and his family go to that shore often and they were planning to say hello but felt I might upset me (darn right it'd have!).
"Is this some huge conspiracy?" I inquired. "Do a lot of the folks I know go down to this kind of shore?"
"More than youll ever know," he replied. "We just never talk about it."
There is a postscript to this story. We had a wonderful holiday except for one thing I'd forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife inquired, "What's that?"
"What?" I replied.
"It looks like your back is peeling. In fact your behind is skinning!" There was a nervous pause while her thoughts put together the puzzle. "Dont tell me you went to that beach, did you?"
I sheepishly nodded. "I knew youd never go there and I needed to try it."
"Oh my God! I dont believe it..etc. etc." She reminded me of it regularly during the next few years, especially when we had guests over for dinner so she could make an example of her "crazy" husband.
Sadly for her, some of our guests admitted they went to that beach (or others like it) also!
Societal nudity, as it turns out, is hugely popular, but nobody ever wants to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex-husband) thinks the world is crazy.)