My First Time

naturism came by accident when I was 32 years old. Prior to that, I had been raised in an extremely small family where my mom prohibit my dad to possess Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years later he did anyhow.) Nevertheless, as a teenager I was always curious about it and on those rare occasions once I found myself home for a few hours alone while my parents and younger brother and sisters were off on some family outing, 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 life when - or if - I ever could summon the nerve.
My wife, like my mother, was incredibly 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 often seen distinct shores along the 50 miles of county shoreline where these pools might be explored.
On this particular Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, searching for the tide pool area a specific guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a particular corner to detect a long seashore maybe a half-mile long, that was covered with naked bodies. "Oh my God!" my wife cried out, "Its a nude beach. We need to go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with joy and took off running down the shore and into the bunch. She'd absolutely forgotten about any tide pools.
"I always wanted to attempt this," I admitted to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she quietly but firmly replied. After we regained our daughter and got her dressed, we turned south and returned to our car and left.
However, I happened to mention our casual discovery to a coworker a couple of days later. He nonchalantly acknowledged he along with his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to hear this. Nudists lived among us! beach babes knew?
A year passed, and the following summer my lovely wife and daughter left to visit her sister in Washington State. I stayed behind for another week to complete an important project on the job. A few days afterwards, the same coworker came into my office and closed the door.
"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 people from work was totally out of the inquiry. "Okay, but I need to go by myself the first time." I believe I said it as much to end the conversation 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 perhaps this might be my only chance to attempt 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 same big, sandy beach just south of Pt. Dume. Just I got there early and there was barely anyone else there. beach girl 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 couple of 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'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 hint of self consciousness or shyness. They unpacked umbrellas 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 knew it was time to either join in or leave. So I pulled off my suit and immediately rolled onto my stomach, 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 realized I was burning in places that had not been exposed to the sun 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 had, and stood up. I was certain everyones head would turn and I would be exposed for everyone to judge. After several moments I realized they werent looking at me. Im having a nervous breakdown here and the least they could do is look and acknowledge it!" Nobody cared about me at all. After, I found that many others also go through these twin "instant of terror" their first time, just to look back and laugh at their conceit later.
By now there were beach gallery in the water, splashing, diving, body surfing, doing what folks everywhere do in the water. Only without clothing.
That was my moment of epiphany. I didnt expect to adore the feeling so much. I believed 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 rest of my life.
Nope, someday would need to come back. This was an astonishing, surprising encounter, and I remained all day. I found out later that the seashore had it unofficial mayor and a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper would happen there. So I found it actually a very 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 coworker came into my office and asked, simply, "Well?" I told him I really enjoyed the experience 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 few hours later, 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! He then explained he and his family go to that beach often and they were planning to say hello but believed 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 this type of beach?"
"More than youll ever know," he responded. "We just never talk about it."
There is a postscript to this story. We had a lovely vacation except for one thing I'd forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife asked, "What's that?"
"What?" I responded.
" beach girl seems like your back is skinning. In fact your booty is paring!" 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 liked to try it."
"Oh beach gallery !
Unfortunately for her, a number of our guests admitted they went to that shore (or others like it) additionally!
Societal nudity, as it turns out, is enormously popular, but nobody ever wants to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex) thinks the world is crazy.)