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 later he did anyhow.) It felt comfortable, but I never dreamed I 'd ever try 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.
That opportunity came when I was married with a six year old daughter. My wife, like my mother, was incredibly self conscious about her body. What beach bum 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 area a specific guidebook said was there. After a while we rounded a special corner to discover an extended beach maybe a half mile long, that was covered with nude bodies. beach party should go - now!" At that instant, my daughter squealed with joy and took off running down the shore and into the crowd. She had absolutely forgotten about any tide pools.
"I always wanted to attempt this," I confessed to my wife. "Dont you dare!" she gently but firmly responded.
However, I happened to mention our accidental discovery to a coworker several days after. He nonchalantly admitted he and 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 following summer my lovely 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 few days afterwards, exactly the same co-worker came into my office and closed the door.
"What?"
Nows your time to really go without your wife finding out."
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. "Alright, but I wish to go by myself the very first time." But as the days passed, I began thinking that perhaps this might be my only chance to attempt it, and I started making strategies.
That Saturday morning I drove to Paradise Cove and retraced our steps from the prior year, up the shore, until I got to the exact same big, sandy beach just south of Pt. Dume. Simply I got there early and there was hardly anyone else there. I walked about midway down, spread my blanket, and sat there, alone, not desiring to be the only 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'd 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 trace of self-consciousness or shyness. They unpacked umbrellas and sand seats and Frisbees and footballs, same as on any beach. Only 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 instantly rolled onto my stomach, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! I truly did it!"
About a half hour later arrived the second moment of truth. That's when I realized I was burning in places that had not been exposed to sunlight 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 had, and stood up. I was particular everyones head would turn and I 'd be exposed for everybody to judge. I strove not to think about it as I took step after step toward the water. After several seconds I realized they werent looking at me. Im having a nervous breakdown here and 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 terror" their first time, only 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 folks everywhere do in the water. Just without clothing.
I didnt expect to adore the feeling so much. I believed 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 life.
Nope, someday would have to return. beach party was an amazing, surprising encounter, and I remained all day. I felt no sexual tension, in fact I saw no sexuality in the slightest. I found out later that the seashore had it unofficial mayor and a team to volunteers who made sure nothing improper 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 improper in this setting.
On Monday morning, first-thing, my co-worker came into my office and asked, just, "Well?" I told him I actually 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 happened I didnt expect.
A few hours later, another co-worker came into my office and closed 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 along with his family go to that beach regularly and they were planning to say hello but believed I might upset me (damn right it would have!).
"Is this some huge conspiracy?" I asked. "Do beach girl of the folks I know go down to such a shore?"
"More than youll ever know," he responded. "We just never talk about it."
There is a postscript to this story. We had a lovely holiday except for one thing I'd forgotten about.
One night in getting undressed for bed, my wife asked, "What's that?"
"What?" I replied.
"It seems like your back is skinning. In fact your bottom is skinning!" There was beach freedom while her head put together the puzzle. "Dont tell me you went to that shore, did you?"
I sheepishly nodded. " nudism 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 often during the next few years, especially when we had guests over for dinner so she could make an example of her "mad" husband.
Unfortunately for her, some of our guests confessed they went to that shore (or others like it) also!
Societal nudity, as it turns out, is extremely popular, but nobody ever needs to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex-husband) thinks the world is crazy.)