My First Time

My first nudist experience came by accident when I was 32 years old. Prior to that, I were raised in an extremely small family where my mother forbid my father to possess Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyhow.) Nevertheless, as a teenager I was always interested about it and on those infrequent occasions once I found myself home for a couple hours alone while my parents and younger brother and sisters were off on some family trip, I tried out being without clothing 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 attempt sometime in my entire life when - or if - I ever could summon the nerve.
My wife, like my mom, was extremely self-conscious about her body. What nudity there was in our home was limited 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 coastline 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 seen different beaches along the 50 miles of county coastline where these pools could be explored.


On this special Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, searching for the tide pool place a certain guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a particular corner to discover a lengthy seashore perhaps a half mile long, that was covered with naked bodies. "Oh my God!" my wife cried out, "Its a nude beach. We should go - now!" At beach gallery , my daughter squealed with joy and took off running down the beach and into the crowd. She'd completely 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 wanted to try this," I conceded to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she quietly but firmly responded. After we retrieved our daughter and got her dressed, we turned south and returned to our car and left.
However, I happened to mention our accidental discovery to a co-worker a couple of days afterwards. He nonchalantly admitted he along with 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 finish an important project on the job. A couple of days after, exactly the same co-worker came into my office and shut the door. beach babes ," he said.
"What?"
"Recall 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 would 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 people from work was entirely out of the question. "Ok, but beach bum want to go by myself the first time." But as the days passed, I started thinking that perhaps this might be my only opportunity to attempt it, and I began making plans.
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 halfway down, spread my blanket, and sat there, alone, not needing to be the only 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 touch 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 immediately 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. beach bum is when I realized I was burning in places that had not been exposed to sunlight before, and I was going to need 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 certain everyones head would turn and I would be exposed for everyone to judge. After a few minutes I realized they werent looking at me. "Why werent they 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. 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 later.
By now there were several hundred people 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 second when the ocean wraps itself around ones body free of 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 rest of my life.
Nope, someday would have to return. This was an astonishing, unexpected experience, and I remained all afternoon. I found out later that the beach had it unofficial mayor along with a team to volunteers who made sure nothing inappropriate would occur there. So I discovered it actually an extremely 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 really enjoyed the experience 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 occurred I didnt anticipate.
A couple of hours later, another coworker came into my office and shut the door. "My partner 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! He then explained he and his family go to that shore often and they were planning to say hello but believed I might upset me (damn right it'd have!).
"Is this some big conspiracy?" I inquired. "Do lots of the folks I know go down to this type of beach?"
"More than youll ever know," he answered. "We just never talk about it."
There is a postscript to this story. A couple of days after I boarded a plane and joined my wife, daughter, and her sisters family in Washington. We had a wonderful holiday except for one thing I'd forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife asked, "What is that?"
"What?" I replied.
"It seems like your back is peeling. 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 needed to attempt it."
"Oh my God! 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 "mad" husband.
Sadly for her, a few of our guests confessed they went to that shore (or others like it) also!
Social nudity, as it turns out, is hugely popular, but nobody ever needs to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex-husband) believes the world is nuts.)