My First Time

My first nudist experience came by accident once I was 32 years old. Prior to that, I were raised in a very modest family where my mother forbid my dad to possess Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyway.) Nevertheless, as a teenager I was always curious about it and on those infrequent occasions when I found myself home for a few hours alone while my parents and younger brother and sisters were off on some family trip, I tried out being without clothes for an hour here or an hour there. 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 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 mother, was extremely 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 special Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, looking for the tide pool place a certain guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a special corner to detect a long seashore maybe a half mile long, that was covered with nude bodies. "Oh my God!" my wife cried out, "Its a nude beach. We need to go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with delight and took off running down the shore and into the bunch. 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 seashore. "I always wanted to try this," I admitted to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she quietly but firmly responded. After we recovered our daughter and got her dressed, we turned south and returned to our car and left.
Yet, I happened to mention our random discovery to a co-worker a couple of days afterwards. He nonchalantly acknowledged he along with his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to learn 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. blondes on a beach stayed behind for another week to finish an important project on the job. A few days after, exactly the same coworker came into my office and shut the door. "Nows your chance," he said.
"What?"
"Remember last year you told me about the nude beach? Nows your time to really go without your wife finding out."
"No, I couldnt do that. I'd feel like I was cheating or something."

Well, I was nervous enough about the idea but going with people from work was entirely out of the inquiry. "Fine, but I wish to go by myself the first time." But as the days passed, I began thinking that maybe this might be my only opportunity 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 same big, sandy beach just south of Pt. Dume. 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 wanting to be the sole one on the shore 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 had done this many times before. They all dropped their suits like they'd done it a thousand times before (they likely 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. 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 promptly rolled onto my belly, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! I really did it!"
About a half hour later arrived the second moment of truth. Then I realized I was burning in areas that had not been subjected to sunlight before, and I was really going to have to turn over. But I had a better idea: I would head for the cool ocean water and hide 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 everybody to judge. After a few seconds I realized they werent looking at me. Im having a nervous breakdown here and the least they could do is look and recognize 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, just 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.
beach freedom didnt expect to love 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. This was an amazing, surprising experience, and I remained all afternoon. I found out later that the shore had it unofficial mayor and also a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper would happen there. So I discovered it really a very relaxing day. I even played a little 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, simply, "Well?" I told him I truly appreciated the encounter and I thanked him for talking me into going. No, I wasnt going to go back another day with him and Gail, but perhaps someday. Then something happened I didnt expect.
A few 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 grin on his face.
Oh, no! I couldnt sink far enough into my seat! 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 (darn right it'd have!).
"Is this some huge conspiracy?" I inquired. "Do a lot of the folks I know go down to this sort of shore?"
"More than youll ever know," he answered. "We just never talk about it."
There is a postscript to this story. We had a lovely vacation except for one thing I had forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife inquired, "What's that?"
"What?" I answered.
"It seems like your back is peeling. In fact your end is paring!" There was beach gallery while her mind 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 naturist ! I dont believe it..etc. etc." She reminded me of it regularly during the next few years, especially when we had guests over for dinner so she could make an example of her "crazy" husband.
Sadly for her, a number of our guests confessed they went to that beach (or others like it) additionally!
Societal nudity, as it turns out, is enormously popular, but nobody ever needs to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex) thinks the world is crazy.)