My First Time

My first nudist experience came by accident when I was 32 years old. Prior to nudism , I had been raised in an extremely modest family where my mother forbid 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 dwelling for a couple of 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. naturism felt comfortable, but I never dreamed I would ever try it in front of others. However, 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 chance came when I was married with a six year old daughter. My wife, like my mom, was incredibly self-conscious about her body. What nudity there was in our house was restricted to streaking from the restroom to the bedroom after a shower. On this specific day, the three of us happened to be exploring tide pools near Paradise Cove on the shore of the Pacific just north of Los Angeles.
On this particular 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 particular corner to find a lengthy shore maybe a half mile long, that was covered with naked bodies. We have to go - now!" At beach party , my daughter squealed with delight and took off running down the beach and into the group. She'd 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 faster down the seashore. "I always liked to attempt this," I admitted 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.
As a family we never went back. However, I happened to mention our random discovery to a co-worker a few days afterwards. He nonchalantly acknowledged 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 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 few days after, exactly the same co worker came into my office and shut the door. "Nows your chance," he said.
"What?"
"Recall last year you told me about the nude beach? Nows your time to 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 question. "Ok, but I want to go by myself the very first time." But as the days passed, I started thinking that maybe this might be my only chance to attempt it, and I began making plans.
Only 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 only one on the seashore 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 obvious 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 probably had) with not a trace of self consciousness or shyness. They unpacked umbrellas and sand chairs 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 immediately rolled onto my stomach, thinking, "Oh wow, I really did it! I really did it!"
About a half hour after arrived the second moment of truth. That is when I realized I was burning in places that had not been subjected to the sun before, and I was going to need to turn over. But I had a better idea: I 'd head for the cool ocean water and conceal 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 seconds I realized they werent looking at me. "Why werent they looking at me? Im having a nervous breakdown here as well as the least they could do is look and acknowledge it!" After, 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 later.
By now there were several hundred people in the water, splashing, diving, body surfing, doing what people everywhere do in the water. Only without clothes.
That was my moment of epiphany. I 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 would go home and live the rest of my life.
Nope, someday would need to return. This was an amazing, unexpected 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 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 coworker 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 some other day with him and Gail, but maybe someday. Then something happened I didnt anticipate.
A few hours after, another coworker came into my office and closed 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 frequently and they were going to say hello but felt I might upset me (darn right it'd have!).
"Is this some huge conspiracy?" I asked. "Do beach freedom of the people I know go down to this sort of beach?"
"More than youll ever know," he replied. "We simply never talk about it."
There is 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 inquired, "What's that?"
"What?" I responded.
"It looks like your back is peeling. In fact your bottom is peeling!" There was a nervous pause while her head 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." 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 "insane" husband.
Sadly for her, a few of our guests confessed they went to that beach (or others like it) additionally!
Social nudity, as it turns out, is extremely popular, but nobody ever needs to talk about it.
My wife (now my ex-husband) believes the world is nuts.)