My First Time

My first nudist experience came by accident when I was 32 years old. Prior to that, I had been raised in an extremely modest family where my mom forbid my dad to have Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyhow.) 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 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 home 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 regularly seen distinct shores along the 50 miles of county coastline where these pools might be explored.
On this particular Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, searching for the tide pool place a specific guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a particular corner to find 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 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 quicker down the shore. "I always wanted to attempt this," I admitted to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she quietly but steadfastly responded.
As beach bum went back. Yet, I happened to mention our random discovery to a co-worker several days later. He nonchalantly admitted he and his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to discover this. Nudists lived 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 at work. A few days afterwards, exactly the same coworker came into my office and closed the door. "Nows your chance," he said.
"What?"
"Recall last year you told me about the nude beach? Nows your time to go without your wife finding out."
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 entirely out of the inquiry. "Alright, but I wish to go by myself the first time." I believe 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 perhaps this might be my only opportunity to try it, and I started making plans.
Only I got there early and there was barely anyone else there. I walked about halfway down, spread my blanket, and sat there, alone, not needing to be the only one on the seashore 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 clear 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 probably had) with not a trace of self-consciousness or shyness. beach bum and sand chairs and Frisbees and footballs, same as on any shore. 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 promptly rolled onto my stomach, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! beach party did it!"
About a half hour after came the second moment of truth. Then I understood I was burning in areas that had not been exposed to the sun before, and I was really going to need to turn over. But I had a better idea: I 'd head for the cool ocean water and hide my privates there.
So I summoned all the courage I had, and stood up. I was certain everyones head would turn and I would be exposed for everybody to judge. 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. After, I found that many others also go through these twin "instant of horror" their first time, simply to look back and laugh at their conceit afterwards.
By now there were several hundred people in the water, splashing, diving, body surfing, doing what folks everywhere do in the water. Just without clothes. I joined in the fun and experienced my first surprising second 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. I thought 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 own life.
Nope, someday would need to return. This was an amazing, unexpected encounter, and I remained all afternoon. I felt no sexual tension, in fact I saw no sexuality whatsoever. I found out later that the beach had it unofficial mayor as well as a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper would happen there. So I discovered it actually 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, just, "Well?" I told him I really loved 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 perhaps someday. Then something happened 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 quietly with a huge grin on his face.
Oh, no! I couldnt sink far enough into my chair! He then explained he along with his family go to that beach frequently and they were going to say hello but believed I might upset me (darn right it'd 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 answered. "We just never talk about it."
There's a postscript to this story. A few days later I boarded a plane and joined my wife, daughter, and her sisters family in Washington. We had a lovely vacation except for one thing I'd forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife inquired, "What is that?"
"What?" I replied.
"It seems like your back is skinning. In fact your bottom is paring!" 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 frequently during the next few years, particularly when we had guests over for dinner so she could make an example of her "mad" husband.
Sadly for her, a number of our guests admitted they went to that shore (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-husband) believes the world is nuts.)