My First Time

My first nudist experience came by accident when I was 32 years old. Prior to that, I had been raised in a very modest family where my mom prohibit my father to have Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyhow.) However, as a teenager I was always interested about it and on those infrequent occasions when I found myself dwelling for a couple of hours alone while my parents and younger brother and sisters were off on some family excursion, I tried out being without clothing for an hour here or an hour there. It felt comfortable, but I never dreamed I would ever attempt it in front of others. Still, skinny dipping was on my mental "Bucket List" to try sometime in my life when - or if - I ever could summon the courage.
My wife, like my mother, was incredibly 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 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 frequently seen different beaches along the 50 miles of county shoreline where these pools could be investigated.
On this particular 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 special 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. We should go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with joy and took off running down the beach and into the group. She'd absolutely forgotten about any tide pools.
"I always liked to attempt this," I conceded to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she quietly but steadfastly answered. From her tone I knew I couldnt press the issue any farther. After we recovered our daughter and got her dressed, we turned south and returned to our car and left.
Nonetheless, beach blondes happened to mention our random discovery to a co worker a few days later. He nonchalantly admitted he and 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 following summer my 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 couple of days afterwards, the same coworker came into my office and shut the door.
"What?"
Nows your time to really go without your wife finding out."
I'd feel like I was cheating or something."

Well, I was nervous enough about the idea but going with folks from work was totally out of the question. "Okay, but I wish to go by myself the very first time." But as the days passed, I began thinking that maybe this might be my only chance to try it, and I began making plans.
That Saturday morning I drove to Paradise Cove and retraced our steps from the previous year, up the coast, until I got to the exact same large, sandy beach just south of Pt. Dume. 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 sole one on the shore 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 evident groups of friends who'd 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. Just 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 promptly rolled onto my belly, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! I really 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 the sun before, and I was really going to have to turn over. But I had a better idea: I 'd head for the cool ocean water and conceal my privates there.
So I summoned all the courage I had, and stood up. I was specific everyones head would turn and I 'd be exposed for everyone to judge. I strove not to think about it as I took step after step toward the water. After a couple of minutes 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. Later, I found that many others also go through these twin "moment of horror" 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 people everywhere do in the water. Just without clothing. I joined in the fun and experienced my first surprising instant when the ocean wraps itself around ones body free of garments.
That was my moment of epiphany. I didnt expect to love the feeling so much. beach girl 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 rest of my own life.
beach bum , someday would need to come back. 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 after that the seashore had it unofficial mayor and also a team to volunteers who made sure nothing inappropriate would occur there. So I found it really an extremely relaxing day. I even played a small 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 really enjoyed 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 anticipate.
A few hours later, another co worker came into my office and closed the door. "My partner and I saw you Saturday," he said softly with a huge grin on his face.
Oh, no! I couldnt sink far enough into my chair! He then explained he and his family go to that beach frequently and they were planning to say hello but felt I might upset me (darn right it would have!).
"Is this some huge conspiracy?" I inquired. "Do a lot of the people I know go down to such a beach?"
"More than youll ever know," he replied. "We just never talk about it."
There is a postscript to this story. We had a wonderful vacation except for one thing I had forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife inquired, "What's that?"
"What?" I responded.
"It seems like your back is peeling. In fact your booty is peeling!" 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 wanted to attempt it."
"Oh my God!
Unfortunately for her, some of our guests admitted they went to that shore (or others like it) additionally!
beach gallery , 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 nuts.)