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 prohibit my father to possess Playboy Magazines in the house (I found out years after he did anyway.) Nevertheless, as a teen I was always interested about it and on those infrequent occasions when I found myself home for a couple 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 would ever attempt 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 guts.
That opportunity came when I was married with a six year old daughter. My wife, like my mom, was extremely self-conscious about her body. What nudity there was in our home was restricted to streaking from the restroom to the bedroom after a shower.
On this special Sunday, we walked north from Paradise Cove, looking for the tide pool area a certain guidebook said was there. After naturist rounded a particular corner to find a lengthy seashore maybe a half-mile long, that was covered with naked bodies. We have to go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with delight and took off running down the beach and into the crowd. She had completely forgotten about any tide pools.
My wife rolled her eyes, and we walked with purpose toward where she'd shed her bathing suit and was now running even faster down the shore. "I always liked to try this," I confessed to my wife. " beach babes dare!" she quietly but firmly responded. After nudism recovered our daughter and got her dressed, we turned south and returned to our car and left.
As a family we never went back. However, I happened to mention our casual discovery to a co worker a couple of days later. He nonchalantly acknowledged he and his wife went there all the time. I was more than surprised to discover this. Nudists lived among us! Who knew?
A year passed, and the following summer my wife and daughter left to see her sister in Washington State. I stayed behind for another week to finish an important project on the job. A couple of days afterwards, the exact same co-worker came into my office and closed the door.
"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."

Well, I was nervous enough about the idea but going with people from work was totally out of the inquiry. "Alright, but I'd like 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 plans.
That Saturday morning I drove to Paradise Cove and retraced our steps from the previous year, up the shore, until I got to the exact same large, sandy beach just south of Pt. Dume. 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 clear 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 probably had) with not a touch of self consciousness or shyness. They unpacked umbrellas and sand chairs and Frisbees and footballs, same as on any beach. Just these individuals had no tan lines.
I reach my first moment of truth when I understood it was time to either join in or leave. So I pulled off my suit and instantly rolled onto my stomach, 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 places that had not been subjected to the sun before, and I was really going to need 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 particular everyones head would turn and I 'd be exposed for everyone to judge. I tried not to think about it as I took step after step toward the water. 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. Later, I found that many others also go through these twin "moment of horror" their first time, only to look back and laugh at their conceit after.
By now there were several hundred men and women in the water, splashing, diving, body surfing, doing what folks everywhere do in the water. Only without clothing.
I didnt expect to love the feeling so much. I thought this whole thing would be a few minutes checking off an item on my Bucket List, and then I'd go home and live the remainder of my entire life.
Nope, someday would need to come back. This was an astonishing, sudden encounter, and I stayed all afternoon. I found out later that the beach had it unofficial mayor as well as a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper would happen there. So beach freedom 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, simply, "Well?" I told him I actually loved the encounter 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 anticipate.
A couple of hours later, another coworker came into my office and shut the door. "My wife and I saw you Saturday," he said quietly 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 frequently and they were going 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 folks I know go down to this type of seashore?"
"More than youll ever know," he responded. "We simply never talk about it."
There's a postscript to this story. We had a wonderful vacation except for one thing I had forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife asked, "What is that?"
"What?" I responded.
"It looks like your back is skinning. In fact your booty is skinning!" 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 try it."
"Oh my God! I dont believe it..etc. etc." She reminded me of it often 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 number of our guests confessed they went to that beach (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) thinks the world is nuts.)