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 forbid my father to get Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyhow.) However, as a teen I was always interested about it and on those rare occasions once I found myself home for a few hours alone while my parents and younger brother and sisters were off on some family excursion, I tried out being without clothes for an hour here or an hour there. It felt comfortable, but I never dreamed I 'd ever attempt 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. My daughter was fascinated by the sea creatures trapped in the water at low tide, so we frequently visited different shores along the 50 miles of county shoreline where these pools might be investigated.
On this special Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, looking for the tide pool area a certain guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a particular corner to find an extended beach maybe a half-mile long, that was covered with nude bodies. "Oh my God!" my wife cried out, "Its a nude beach. We have to go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with joy and took off running down the beach and into the crowd. She had absolutely forgotten about any tide pools.
My wife rolled her eyes, and we walked with purpose toward where she'd shed her bathing suit and was now running even faster down the seashore. "I always wanted to try this," I admitted to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she quietly but firmly responded. From her tone I knew I couldnt press the issue any further. After we regained our daughter and got her dressed, we turned south and returned to our car and left.
As a family we never went back. However, I happened to mention our accidental discovery to a co worker a couple of days afterwards. He nonchalantly admitted he along with his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to hear this. beach party dwelt among us! Who knew?
A year passed, and the following summer my lovely wife and daughter left to see her sister in Washington State. I stayed behind for another week to complete an important project at work. A few days later, the exact same co-worker came into my office and closed the door. "Nows your chance," he said.
"What?"
Nows your time to go without your wife finding out."
I'd feel like I was cheating or something."
"Nah, how would she ever find out? Come on down beach babes with Gail and me."
Well, I was nervous enough about the idea but going with folks from work was entirely out of the inquiry. "Alright, but I want to go by myself the very first time." I believe I said it as much to stop the conversation 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 try it, and I started making plans.
Just I got there early and there was barely anyone else there. I walked about midway down, spread my blanket, and sat there, alone, not desiring to be the sole one on the beach who wasnt wearing my swim suit. It took a couple of 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 had done it a thousand times before (they probably had) with not a touch of self consciousness or shyness. They unpacked umbrellas and sand seats and Frisbees and footballs, same as on any shore. 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 really did it!"
About a half hour later arrived the second moment of truth. That is when I realized I was burning in places that hadn't been exposed to the sun before, and I was going to need to turn over. But blondes on a beach had a better idea: I would head for the cool ocean water and hide my privates there.
So I summoned all the courage I 'd, and stood up. I was certain everyones head would turn and I would be exposed for everyone to judge. I tried not to think about it as I took step after step toward the water. After a few moments I realized they werent looking at me. "Why werent they looking at me? Im having a nervous breakdown here as well as the least they could do is look and admit it!" Nobody cared about me at all. Afterwards, beach bum found that many others also go through these twin "instant of dread" their first time, simply to look back and laugh at their conceit after.
By now there were several hundred men and women in the water, splashing, diving, body surfing, doing what people everywhere do in the water. Just without clothing. I joined in the fun and experienced my first surprising second when the ocean wraps itself around ones body free of garments.
I didnt expect to adore the feeling so much. I believed this whole thing would be a few minutes checking off an item on my Bucket List, and then I'd go home and live the rest of my life.
Nope, someday would need to return. This was an astonishing, sudden encounter, and I remained all afternoon. I found out afterwards that the seashore had it unofficial mayor along with a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper would occur there. So I discovered it really 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?" beach freedom told him I actually appreciated 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 anticipate.
A couple of hours later, another co-worker came into my office and shut the door. "My partner and I saw you Saturday," he said quietly with a huge grin on his face.
Oh, no! I couldnt sink far enough into my seat! Then he explained he and his family go to that beach frequently and they were going to say hello but felt I might upset me (darn right it would have!).
"Is this some huge conspiracy?" I asked. "Do lots of the folks I know go down to this type of seashore?"
"More than youll ever know," he responded. " blondes on a beach talk about it."
There is a postscript to this story. A couple of days after I boarded a plane and joined my wife, daughter, and her sisters family in Washington. We had a wonderful vacation except for one thing I'd forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife inquired, "What's that?"
"What?" I answered.
"It seems like your back is peeling. In fact your end is paring!" There was a nervous pause while her mind 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 liked to try it."
"Oh my God! I dont believe it..etc. etc." She reminded me of it often during the next few years, especially when we had guests over for dinner so she could make an example of her "insane" husband.


Unfortunately for her, a few of our guests confessed they went to that shore (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) believes the world is nuts.)