My First Time

My first nudist experience came by accident when 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 later he did anyhow.) It felt comfortable, but I never dreamed I 'd ever try it in front of others. However, skinny dipping was on my mental "Bucket List" to attempt sometime in my life when - or if - I ever could summon the courage.
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 particular day, the three of us happened to be exploring tide pools near Paradise Cove on the shoreline 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 often visited different beaches along the 50 miles of county shoreline where these pools could be explored.
On this particular 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 special corner to discover an extended shore maybe a half-mile long, that was covered with nude bodies. "Oh my God!" my wife cried out, "Its a nude beach. We should go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with joy and took off running down the beach and into the group. She'd absolutely 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 shore. "I always liked to try this," I conceded to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she gently but steadfastly replied. From her tone I knew I couldnt press the issue any further.
Nonetheless, beach blondes happened to mention our casual discovery to a coworker a couple of days after. He nonchalantly acknowledged he along with his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to learn this. Nudists dwelt among us! Who knew?
A year passed, and the next summer my wife and daughter left to see her sister in Washington State. I stayed behind for another week to finish an important project at work. A couple of days later, exactly the same coworker came into my office and closed the door.
"What?"
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."
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 question. "Ok, 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 started making strategies.
That Saturday morning I drove to Paradise Cove and retraced our steps from the last year, up the coast, until I got to exactly the same big, sandy beach just south of Pt. Dume. Simply 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 shore 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 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 seats and Frisbees and footballs, same as on any seashore. Just these individuals had no tan lines.
I reach my first moment of truth once I understood it was time to either join in or leave. So I pulled off my suit and promptly rolled onto my stomach, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! I truly did it!"
About a half hour later came the second moment of truth. That's when I realized I was burning in places that hadn't been subjected 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 hide my privates there.
So I summoned all the courage I 'd, and stood up. I was specific everyones head would turn and I 'd be exposed for everyone to judge. After a couple of seconds I realized they werent looking at me. "Why nudism looking at me? Im having a nervous breakdown here and the least they could do is look and admit it!" But nobody did. Later, I found that many others also go through these twin "moment of horror" their first time, simply to look back and laugh at their conceit later.
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 clothing. I joined in the fun and experienced my first surprising instant when the ocean wraps itself around ones body free of 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 remainder of my entire life.
beach girl , someday would need to return. This was an amazing, unexpected encounter, and I stayed all day. I found out afterwards that the beach had it unofficial mayor along with a team to volunteers who made sure nothing inappropriate would occur there. So I found it actually an extremely relaxing day. I even played a small 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, just, "Well?" I told him I really appreciated 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 happened I didnt anticipate.
A couple of hours later, another co worker came into my office and shut the door. "My partner and I saw you Saturday," he said softly 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 shore regularly and they were going to say hello but believed I might upset me (darn right it would have!).
"Is this some huge conspiracy?" I asked. "Do a great deal of the folks I know go down to this type of beach?"
"More than youll ever know," he replied. "We just never talk about it."
There's a postscript to this story. We had a wonderful 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.
"It looks like your back is skinning. 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 shore, did you?"
I sheepishly nodded. "I knew youd never go there and I liked to attempt it."
"Oh my God! I dont believe it..etc. etc." beach gallery reminded me of it regularly during the next few years, particularly when we had guests over for dinner so she could make an example of her "loony" husband.
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 hugely popular, but nobody ever wants to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex-husband) thinks the world is crazy.)