My First Time

My first nudist experience came by accident once I was 32 years old. Prior to that, I had been raised in a very small family where my mom forbid my dad to have Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyway.) 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 try sometime in my life when - or if - I ever could summon the nerve.
That opportunity came when I was married with a six year old daughter. My wife, like my mother, 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 frequently visited different shores along the 50 miles of county shoreline where these pools could be explored.
On this particular Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, searching for the tide pool area a certain guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a particular corner to detect a long shore perhaps a half-mile long, that was covered with naked bodies. "Oh my God!" my wife cried out, "Its a nude beach. beach girl should go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with delight and took off running down the beach and into the group. She had completely forgotten about any tide pools.
"I always wanted to try this," I confessed to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she gently but firmly replied.
As a family we never went back. However, I happened to mention our casual discovery to a co worker several days afterwards. He nonchalantly acknowledged he along with his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to hear this. Nudists dwelt among us! Who knew?
A year passed, and the next 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 on the job. A couple of days after, the same co-worker came into my office and shut the door.
"What?"
Nows your time to really go without your wife finding out."
"No, beach party 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 absolutely out of the inquiry. "Ok, but I would like to go by myself the very first time." I think I said it as much to end the conversation and get him out of the office as to be serious about what I was saying. But as the days passed, I started thinking that perhaps this might be my only opportunity to attempt it, and I started making plans.
Simply I got there early and there was barely anyone else there. I walked about midway down, spread my blanket, and sat there, alone, not needing to be the only one on the beach 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 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 seashore. Just these people 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 instantly 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's when I realized I was burning in places that had not 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 hide my privates there.
So I summoned all the courage I had, and stood up. I was specific everyones head would turn and I would be exposed for everybody to judge. I tried not to think about it as I took step after step toward the water. After a few seconds I realized they werent looking at me. "Why werent they looking at me? Im having a nervous breakdown here and the least they could do is look and recognize it!" But nobody did. 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 later.
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 clothing. I joined in the fun and experienced my first surprising second when the ocean wraps itself around ones body free of clothing.
I didnt expect to love the feeling so much. beach babes 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 rest of my life.
Nope, someday would need to come back. This was an amazing, surprising encounter, and I stayed all day. I felt no sexual tension, in fact I saw no sexuality in the slightest. I found out after that the seashore had it unofficial mayor and also a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper would happen there. So I found it really an extremely relaxing day. I even played a little 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, just, "Well?" I told him I truly appreciated the experience and I thanked him for talking me into going. No, I wasnt going to go back some other day with him and Gail, but perhaps someday. Then something occurred I didnt expect.
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 softly with a big grin on his face.
Oh, no! I couldnt sink far enough into my seat! He then explained he along with his family go to that beach regularly and they were planning to say hello but felt I might upset me (damn right it would have!).
"Is this some huge conspiracy?" I asked. "Do lots of the people I know go down to this sort of beach?"
"More than youll ever know," he replied. "We just never talk about it."
There's a postscript to this story. We had a lovely vacation except for one thing I'd forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife asked, "What's that?"
"What?" I responded.
" beach babes looks like your back is skinning. In fact your butt is peeling!" 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 needed to attempt 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 confessed they went to that shore (or others like it) also!
Social nudity, as it turns out, is hugely popular, but nobody ever needs to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex-husband) believes the world is crazy.)