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 modest family where my mother forbid my dad to possess Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyway.) It felt comfortable, but I never dreamed I would 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 courage.
That chance 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 limited to streaking from the restroom 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 distinct beaches 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 place a certain guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a special corner to discover an extended seashore maybe a half-mile long, that was covered with nude bodies. beach blondes have to go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with joy and took off running down the beach and into the group. She had totally 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 conceded to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she quietly but steadfastly replied. After we recovered our daughter and got her dressed, we turned south and returned to our car and left.
As a family we never went back. Nonetheless, I happened to mention our accidental discovery to a coworker a couple of days later. He nonchalantly admitted he and his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to learn this. Nudists lived among us! Who knew?
A year passed, and the following summer my 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 after, the same co-worker came into my office and shut the door. "Nows your chance," he said.
"What?"
"Recall last year you told me about the nude beach? Nows your time to really go without your wife finding out."
"No, nudism couldnt do that. I'd 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 absolutely out of the question. "Fine, but I want to go by myself the very first time." blondes on a beach think I said it as much to end the dialogue 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 maybe this might be my only opportunity to attempt it, and I started making strategies.
That Saturday morning I drove to Paradise Cove and retraced our steps from the last year, up the coast, until I got to the exact same large, sandy beach just south of Pt. Dume. Only I got there early and there was hardly anyone else there. I walked about halfway down, spread my blanket, and sat there, alone, not needing 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'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. Only these individuals had no tan lines.
I reach my first moment of truth once I understood it was time to either join in or leave. So I pulled off my suit and promptly rolled onto my stomach, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! beach bum did it!"
About a half hour later came the second moment of truth. Then I realized I was burning in areas that hadn't been exposed to sunlight 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 conceal my privates there.
So I summoned all the courage I 'd, and stood up. I was certain everyones head would turn and I 'd 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 seconds 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!" After, I found that many others also go through these twin "moment of dread" their first time, only to look back and laugh at their conceit afterwards.
By now there were several hundred men and women in the water, splashing, diving, body surfing, doing what people everywhere do in the water. Only without clothes. I joined in the fun and experienced my first surprising second when the ocean wraps itself around ones body free of clothes.
That was my moment of epiphany. I didnt expect to love the feeling so much. I thought 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 remainder of my life.
Nope, someday would have to return. This was an astonishing, sudden encounter, and I remained all afternoon. I found out afterwards that the shore had it unofficial mayor and a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper would occur there. So I discovered it really a very 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, just, "Well?" I told him I truly 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 maybe someday. Then something occurred I didnt expect.
A couple of hours later, another coworker came into my office and shut 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 chair! Then beach girl explained he along with his family go to that shore frequently and they were planning to say hello but believed I might upset me (damn right it would have!).
"Is this some big conspiracy?" I inquired. "Do a lot of the folks I know go down to this type of beach?"
"More than youll ever know," he answered. "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 asked, "What is that?"
"What?" I replied.
"It looks like your back is skinning. In fact your butt 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 liked to attempt it."
"Oh my God! I dont believe it..etc. etc." She reminded me of it regularly during the next few years, notably 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 beach (or others like it) also!
Social nudity, as it turns out, is extremely popular, but nobody ever needs to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex) thinks the world is crazy.)