My First Time

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 mom forbid my father to have Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyway.) Nevertheless, as beach freedom was always interested about it and on those infrequent occasions when I found myself home for several hours alone while my parents and younger brother and sisters were off on some family outing, I tried out being without clothing 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 life when - or if - I ever could summon the guts.
That opportunity came when I was married with a six year old daughter. My wife, like my mother, was extremely self conscious about her body. What nudity there was in our home 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 coast 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 seen distinct shores along the 50 miles of county shoreline where these pools may 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 an extended seashore perhaps a half mile long, that was covered with naked bodies. "Oh my God!" my wife cried out, "Its a nude beach. beach gallery need to go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with joy and took off running down the beach and into the bunch. She had completely forgotten about any tide pools.
My wife rolled her eyes, and we walked with purpose toward where she had shed her bathing suit and was now running even quicker down the beach. "I always wanted to try this," I confessed to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she gently but steadfastly answered. After we regained our daughter and got her dressed, we turned south and returned to our car and left.
Yet, I happened to mention our random discovery to a co-worker several days later. He nonchalantly admitted he along with 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 following summer my lovely wife and daughter left to see her sister in Washington State. I stayed behind for another week to finish 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."
"No, I couldnt do that. I would feel like I was cheating or something."
"Nah, how would she ever find out? Come on down Saturday with Gail and me."
Well, I was nervous enough about the idea but going with people from work was totally out of the question. "Alright, but I'd like to go by myself the first time." I think 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 perhaps this might be my only chance to attempt it, and I began making strategies.
Only blondes on a beach 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 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 evident 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 touch of self consciousness or shyness. They unpacked umbrellas and sand chairs and Frisbees and footballs, same as on any seashore. Only these individuals had no tan lines.
I reach my first moment of truth when I understood it was time to either join in or leave. So I pulled off my suit and instantly rolled onto my stomach, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! I really did it!"
About a half hour after arrived the second moment of truth. That is when I understood I was burning in places that had not been exposed to the sun 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 'd, and stood up. I was specific everyones head would turn and I 'd be exposed for everyone to judge. After a couple of moments I realized they werent looking at me. Im having a nervous breakdown here and the least they could do is look and admit it!" After, I found that many others also go through these twin "moment of terror" their first time, simply 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 folks everywhere do in the water. Just without clothing. I joined in the fun and experienced my first astonishing instant when the ocean wraps itself around ones body free of clothing.
I didnt expect to love 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 remainder of my life.
Nope, someday would need to return. This was an astonishing, surprising experience, and I stayed all day. I found out afterwards that the seashore had it unofficial mayor and a team to volunteers who made sure nothing inappropriate would happen there. So I discovered it actually an extremely 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 co-worker came into my office and asked, simply, "Well?" I told him I actually loved 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 perhaps someday. Then something happened I didnt expect.
A few hours later, another coworker came into my office and closed the door. "My wife and I saw you Saturday," he said gently with a huge smile 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 often and they were planning to say hello but felt I might upset me (damn right it'd have!).
"Is this some big conspiracy?" I asked. "Do a great deal of the people I know go down to this kind of beach?"
" beach blondes than youll ever know," he replied. "We simply never talk about it."
There's a postscript to this story. A few days after I boarded a plane and joined my wife, daughter, and her sisters family in Washington. We had a lovely holiday except for one thing I'd forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife inquired, "What is that?"
"What?" I answered.
"It looks like your back is peeling. In fact your end is paring!" There was a nervous pause while her head 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, particularly when we had guests over for dinner so she could make an example of her "mad" husband.
Unfortunately for her, some of our guests admitted they went to that shore (or others like it) additionally!
Social nudity, as it turns out, is extremely popular, but nobody ever needs to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex-husband) believes the world is nuts.)