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 have Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyhow.) Nevertheless, as a teen I was always curious about it and on those rare occasions when I found myself home for a couple of hours alone while my parents and younger brother and sisters were off on some family trip, I tried out being without clothing for an hour here or an hour there. It felt comfortable, but I never dreamed I would ever try it in front of others. Still, skinny dipping was on my mental "Bucket List" to try sometime in my entire life when - or if - I ever could summon the nerve.
My wife, like my mom, was extremely 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. On this specific day, the three of us happened to be exploring tide pools near Paradise Cove on the shore of the Pacific just north of Los Angeles.
On this special 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 beach maybe a half-mile long, that was covered with naked bodies. "Oh my God!" my wife cried out, "Its a nude beach. We must go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with joy and took off running down the shore and into the crowd. She'd totally forgotten about any tide pools.


"I always liked to attempt this," I admitted to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she gently but firmly answered. After we recovered our daughter and got her dressed, we turned south and returned to our car and left.
However, I happened to mention our accidental discovery to a co-worker several days after. He nonchalantly acknowledged he and his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to hear this. beach party dwelt 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 finish an important project on the job. A couple of days later, the exact 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 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 inquiry. "Fine, but I wish to go by myself the very first time." But as the days passed, I began thinking that perhaps this might be my only chance to try it, and I began making strategies.
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. Just 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 sole 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 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 had done it a thousand times before (they likely had) with not a touch of self consciousness or shyness. They unpacked umbrellas and sand chairs and Frisbees and footballs, same as on any shore. Just these folks 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 immediately 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 is when I realized I was burning in places 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 '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 moments I realized they werent looking at me. "Why beach blondes looking at me? Im having a nervous breakdown here and the least they could do is look and admit it!" But nobody did. Nobody cared about me at all. Afterwards, I found that many others also go through these twin "instant of panic" their first time, only to look back and laugh at their conceit later.
By now there were several hundred people in the water, splashing, diving, body surfing, doing what folks everywhere do in the water. Only without clothes.
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 would go home and live the remainder of my entire life.
Nope, someday would have to return. beach girl was an astonishing, surprising experience, and I remained 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 along with 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 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, simply, "Well?" I told him I actually appreciated 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 maybe someday. Then something occurred I didnt anticipate.
A couple of hours after, another co-worker 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 seat! Then he explained he along with his family go to that beach regularly and they were planning to say hello but felt I might upset me (darn right it would have!).
"Is this some big conspiracy?" I inquired. "Do a great deal of the folks I know go down to this type of seashore?"
"More than youll ever know," he answered. "We simply never talk about it."
There is a postscript to this story. A few days after I boarded a plane and joined my wife, daughter, and her sisters family in Washington. beach freedom had a wonderful vacation except for one thing I'd forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife inquired, "What is that?"
"What?" I responded.
" blondes on a beach looks like your back is skinning. In fact your booty is skinning!" There was a nervous pause while her thoughts put together the puzzle. "Dont tell me you went to that shore, did you?"
I sheepishly nodded. "I knew youd never go there and I needed to try it."
"Oh my God!
Unfortunately for her, a few of our guests confessed 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) thinks the world is crazy.)