I managed to lie down,

straining my knee joints in order to be as decorous as possible. Eventually I
got a bit bored and a little more adventuresome, and determined to get in the hot tub
and try having a conversation with a complete stranger while bare. The young
man, I concluded afterwards, was either a gigolo-in-training or had missed his
calling. He was tender and good natured, low-key, discretely conscious of my
awkwardness and the opportunity to help. The finest thing he did was attest
that it was really okay to bend over. He declared the hot tub was too hot,
Got some pails and dipped water from the pool to cool it, while easily
bending, squatting or stooping as essential. Which that two-year old in the
playgound understood and I had totally forgotten. The second finest thing he did
was give me my first massage then let me reciprocate. Without a trace of
sexual invitation. He let me be in control of what he saw was my first fkk
Encounter, and by automatically following my own inclinations without censure,
it was nothing less than only what I wanted.
The whole weekend was as
delightful and all around-knowledge-building as that first day. I can’t
say it was just mind-opening, because it was substantially more than conscious
Consciousness that was enlarged. I wish I had kept a journal. As it was, I handled
to arrange a month away from work and returned that summer, the summer of ’82,
for a full massage lessons. During this time I was completely and exclusively
physical and societal. I didn’t read one novel. I used ton’t view a computer or a TV. I
did dishes for fun. I slept on the floor in a big hall with 30 other snoring,
farting people, and I slept like a baby.
We massaged each other all
day five days per week under supervision and experimented nights and weekends,
with feathers and beards! And we played. In the sun, on the yard, between the
trees, in the creek, in the pool, in the shower after a food fight. We adored and
laughed as children do before they learn panic. I played as if I had never understood
Anxiety. I relearned trust and unlearned the differences between women and men and
boys and girls. I also wept and grieved and others wept with me. And every
tear of grief was joyous and beautiful. To cry for passing is to cry for life. I
had been grieving for death before I understood what it was to be completely alive. Maybe
because of that.
Among the people I played
with, on a deeper and more intimate degree, was Chuck, the man I married three
weeks after (yes, weeks), and have been married to for over fourteen years. We
spend every winter with other nude folks since he retired. I wish we still were
Connected with Getting In Touch, which was a truly remarkable place. But we do
have the memories. I still write computer programs, but just for entertaining, and I now
read doctrine with exactly the same attention I once gave to specialized guides.
I assume it all began as a kid,
although I wasn’t conscious of it at that time.
I knew nothing of nudism subsequently, but I do know that I loved to take my clothes
of in open spaces,
and around the home when nobody was in.
I was instructed nudity is ERRONEOUS except in private, ie. Toilet or
http://nudismphotos.net/posts/my-first-nudist-experience-came-when-i-was-17/ with the door close.
I used to
Reside on the outskirts of a town on the south coast of England, behind our house
was open fields,
and common land covered with various bushes and ferns, there was also a stream
and an old disused
clay quarry which had many lakes and pools.
It was here
that I first experience the feel of the sunlight, wind and rain on my naked body, and
Yes I know we have all been t here , the skinny dipping bunch, but it wasn’t only
that for me.
I went out of my way to escape from the other lads so I could strip off and
Appreciate nudity,
not for a laugh, but because I believed it was right. I’d lay there and appreciate
the sounds of nature around me,
standing in the stream or sitting in it and feeling the cool water flowing
around my body.
I’d only sit and watch as other animals moved around in the bushes and open
or I’d go running through the ferns, increase trees.
I would have the opportunity to camp out over night, what fun that was, and if I was
on my own it was better,
I’d lay in the open by a camp fire nude, and on a clear night merely look up
at the stars, how lovely it felt,
the heat from the dancing flames of the fire, on my naked body, just to be
cooled by the odd breeze of wind.
as soon as I began to write
this page I realized that it really had nothing to do with Naturism/Nudism,
but there again it’s a part of my life, and part of the procedure by which I
became a Naturist.
So if you believe it’s no place here then I can just apologies as I think it
As I entered my mid-teens I discovered that other distractions took me away from my
earlier pastimes.
Leaving school and finding work, and starting to get involved in other adolescent
Actions, i.e. clubs, drink, girls,
and of course the dreaded word sex. My feeling for nudity were still there, but
the change in lifestyle,