My First Time

My first nudist experience came by accident once I was 32 years old. Prior to that, I had been raised in an extremely modest family where my mother forbid my dad to get Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyhow.) Nevertheless, as a teenager 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 excursion, I tried out being without clothes for an hour here or an hour there. It felt comfortable, but I never dreamed I 'd 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 courage.
That opportunity came when I was married with a six year old daughter. My wife, like my mom, was incredibly self-conscious about her body. What nudity there was in our house was limited to streaking from the bathroom to the bedroom after a shower.
On this particular Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, looking for the tide pool place a specific guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a special corner to find a long beach maybe a half-mile long, that was covered with nude bodies. We must go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with delight and took off running down the shore and into the group. naturist 'd absolutely forgotten about any tide pools.
"I always liked to attempt this," I confessed to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she gently but steadfastly responded.
As a family we never went back. Nonetheless, I happened to mention our random discovery to a coworker a few days later. He nonchalantly admitted he along with 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 next summer my wife and daughter left to visit her sister in Washington State. I stayed behind for another week to complete an important project at work. A couple of days afterwards, the exact same co-worker came into my office and closed the door.
"What?"
"Recall last year you told me about the nude beach? Nows your time to really go without your wife finding out."
I'd feel like I was cheating or something."
Come on down Saturday with Gail and me."
Well, beach blondes was nervous enough about the idea but going with folks from work was entirely out of the question. "Ok, but I would like to go by myself the very first time." I think I said it as much to stop the dialogue 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 maybe this might be my only chance to try it, and I began making strategies.
Only I got there early and there was hardly anyone else there. I walked about midway down, spread my blanket, and sat there, alone, not desiring 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 apparent 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 trace of self-consciousness or shyness. They unpacked umbrellas and sand chairs and Frisbees and footballs, same as on any shore. Only these folks had no tan lines.
I reach my first moment of truth once I knew it was time to either join in or leave. So I pulled off my suit and instantly rolled onto my belly, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! I truly did it!"
About a half hour later arrived the second moment of truth. That is when I understood I was burning in places that had not been subjected to sunlight before, and I was going to have 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 'd, and stood up. I was certain everyones head would turn and I 'd be exposed for everybody to judge. I tried not to think about it as I took step after step toward the water. After several minutes I realized they werent looking at me. "Why werent they looking at me? Im having a nervous breakdown here and also the least they could do is look and admit it!" Nobody cared about me at all. 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 men and women in the water, splashing, diving, body surfing, doing what people everywhere do in the water. Just 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'd go home and live the remainder of my own life.
Nope, someday would need to come back. This was an astonishing, sudden encounter, and I remained all day. I found out later that the shore had it unofficial mayor as well as a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper would happen there. So I discovered it actually a very relaxing day. I even played a small 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 really 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 perhaps someday. Then something happened I didnt expect.
A couple of hours after, another coworker came into my office and shut the door. "My partner and I saw you Saturday," he said quietly with a big smile on his face.
Oh, no! I couldnt sink far enough into my chair! Then naturism explained he along with his family go to that beach frequently and they were going to say hello but felt I might upset me (damn right it'd have!).
"Is this some huge conspiracy?" I inquired. "Do a lot of the people I know go down to this kind of shore?"
"More than youll ever know," he replied. "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. We had a lovely holiday except for one thing I'd forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife asked, "What's that?"
"What?" I replied.
"It seems like your back is peeling. In fact your bottom is peeling!" 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 needed to attempt it."
"Oh my God! I dont believe it..etc. etc." She reminded me of it frequently during the next few years, notably when we had guests over for dinner so she could make an example of her "insane" husband.
Sadly for her, a number of our guests confessed they went to that beach (or others like it) also!
Societal 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.)