My First Time

My first [1] 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 father 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 try sometime in my life when - or if - I ever could summon the guts.
My wife, like my mom, was incredibly 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. On this particular day, the three of us happened to be exploring tide pools near Paradise Cove on the coast of the Pacific just north of Los Angeles. My daughter was fascinated by the sea creatures trapped in the water at low tide, so we regularly visited different beaches along the 50 miles of county shoreline where these pools might be investigated.
On this particular Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, looking for the tide pool area a certain guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a special corner to detect an extended 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. She had totally forgotten about any tide pools.
My wife rolled her eyes, and we walked with purpose toward where she had shed her bathing suit and was now running even quicker down the beach. "I always wanted to attempt this," I admitted to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she gently but steadfastly 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 casual 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 discover this. Nudists dwelt 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 complete an important project at work. A couple of days afterwards, exactly the same co-worker came into my office and shut the door. "Nows your chance," he said.
"What?"
Nows your time to go without your wife finding out."
"No, I couldnt do that. I'd feel like I was cheating or something."
"Nah, how would she ever find out? Come on down Saturday with Gail and me."
Well, I was nervous enough about the idea but going with folks from work was totally out of the inquiry. "Okay, but I would like to go by myself the very first time." But as the days passed, I began thinking that perhaps this might be my only opportunity to try it, and I started making strategies.
Just I got there early and there was barely anyone else there. I walked about midway down, spread my blanket, and sat there, alone, not wanting 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 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 touch of self-consciousness or shyness. They unpacked umbrellas and sand seats and Frisbees and footballs, same as on any seashore. Just 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 instantly rolled onto my belly, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! I truly did it!"
About a half hour after came the second moment of truth. That's when I understood I was burning in areas that hadn't 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 'd, and stood up. I was specific everyones head would turn and I would be exposed for everyone to judge. 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 acknowledge it!" But nobody did. Nobody cared about me at all. Afterwards, I found that many others also go through these twin "moment of panic" 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. Only without clothes. I joined in the fun and experienced my first astonishing second when the ocean wraps itself around ones body free of clothing.
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 own life.
Nope, someday would have to come back. beach gallery was an astonishing, unexpected experience, and I remained all day. I found out later that the beach had it unofficial mayor and also a team to volunteers who made sure nothing inappropriate would occur there. So I discovered 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 co-worker came into my office and asked, just, "Well?" I told him I truly 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 perhaps someday. Then something occurred I didnt expect.
nudism after, another co-worker came into my office and shut the door. "My partner and I saw you Saturday," he said softly with a huge grin on his face.
Oh, no! I couldnt sink far enough into my chair! Then he explained he and his family go to that beach frequently and they were going to say hello but believed I might upset me (damn right it'd have!).
"Is this some huge conspiracy?" I inquired. "Do a great deal of the people I know go down to such a shore?"
"More than youll ever know," he answered. "We just 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 inquired, "What is that?"
"What?" I responded.
"It looks like your back is peeling. In fact your end is skinning!" There was a nervous pause while her head 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 liked to try it."
"Oh my God!
Unfortunately for her, a few of our guests confessed they went to that beach (or others like it) additionally!
Social nudity, as it turns out, is hugely popular, but nobody ever needs to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex-husband) thinks the world is nuts.)