I wish I could say that I grew up in a naturist family, spending my summer holidays running round naked

in the sun. But I cant. I was raised in the East Midlands in britain in the 1970s (I was born in 1968), with a perfectly normal childhood. I only ever saw my parents naked once or twice, and I dont believe theyve seen http://nudist-photo.com since I was about 10.
So, I grew up with all the ordinary British reservations about revealing my body in public. I think that my first exposure to naturism came on holiday in the south of France with my parents when I was (I believe) about 17 – my last holiday with them before I became a pupil and then left house. We stayed near Port Grimaud, and one day I chose to see what was on the different side of a big stony breakwater. Imagine my surprise when I saw a beach full of nude folks! Id love to say which I went and stripped off and joined them, but I didnt. Remember, this was a time when I didnt even want my parents to see me without a shirt on!
Anyway, when I was a student (living at home), I picked up a copy of Health and Efficiency from a shop that had it as one of its top shelf magazines (a phrase that will without doubt be familiar to British readers, but may be less so to those from overseas. Keep in mind that Playboy is a top shelf magazine!). It was interesting to find a magazine full of naked pictures of what I came to think of as ordinary people doing normal things not models who appear to be auditioning for a gynaecological textbook. Right now, I also started to spend time around the house nude when everyone else was outside, but this was more from the illegal thrill perspective. However, my opinion started to change, and I found that I really enjoyed being nude, and envied people who were able to go on naturist vacations. I did manage some days sunbathing nude in the back garden in a very rare time when my parents were on holiday and my brother was still away at college in a different town.
And that was it for many years. In 1992 or 1993, my girlfriend and I went to stay with a friend who lived in Poole, on the south shore. On the Saturday we went to their local beach for a walk, and my buddy warned us that there clearly was a nudist section. It was Studland Bay, somewhere I’d learned of in H&E (which I had long stopped purchasing, mostly because I had moved in with my girlfriend). So there I was, walking along Studland, encompassed by nudists, but I didnt dare do anything. I mean, I used to work with my (female) friend (and did again a few years after) and couldnt picture telling her hey, Id love to strip off here. For all I know, her and her husband might have been regulars, but that wasnt going to happen!
My girlfriend and I went back to Studland on our last day as the weather was fine, and I somehow plucked up the courage to suggest to her that we went to the nudist beach since I fancied stripping off. She was pretty amazed, but agreed on the understanding that she didnt have to. I truly appreciated it, much to her bemusement. I even swam nude in the sea, which was beach teen (if a little cool).
Over the next couple of years, my girlfriend indulged me and we visited Studland once or two times per year and I likewise stripped off once or even twice on a beach in France, but that was pretty much it. For the last 3-4 years nevertheless, we’ve been on vacation in French bungalows, and weve always managed to be remote enough for me (and sometimes my girlfriend) to strip off by the pool. Over the past year or two, I’ve been doing a streak of photography courses (Im an extremely sharp amateur), and the last one, in 2003, was social documentary. I struggled for quite a while to think of a subject, and from somewhere deep down I came up with the thought of doing something on naturism. I hunted round the web and discovered a club in Marlborough (which is about 50 miles from Bristol where I now dwell) who astonishingly enough were agreeable for me to take some pictures and invited me to come along and see them even though I ‘d be on my own as my girlfriend would not be joining me.
So, I somewhat nervously went to see them so they could meet me and I really could see what the photographic possibilities were. They were most welcoming, and I spent a thoroughly pleasant evening swimming and playing badminton in the nude.
There were some delays in receiving permission from the sports center they use, and in the end they said no. By this time, I ‘d been 2 or 3 times and was getting to love it. So, even though my job was killed off before I ‘d taken any graphics, the team asked me if I wanted to join, and I did. I now go along once a month or so, and adore it. The main problem is that the club meets on Saturday evenings, and I feel guilty about leaving my girlfriend on her own at home when I go. Id love for her to come as well, but she isnt assured enough at present, although she hasnt ruled out the possibility entirely.
More recently, I have already been beginning to think about making contact with one of the clubs not too far from Bristol one that has its own land so I could maybe have someplace outdoors to visit regularly.

The Sunday morning dawned bright and early and we had plans to check out of the apartment when possible, catch some breakfast, organise some lunch and head to the beach before driving back to Brisbane and our flight to Sydney.

Nevertheless, we’dnt reckoned on this being the weekend of the Noosa Half Marathon as well as the Hastings Street place being closed down for this event. The agent we’d reserved through was right at the center of this region and we ended up parking further away than our flat had been from the agent. This was our first challenge shortly followed by trying to find somewhere for breakfast, which finally proved too hard and we headed around to Sunshine Beach to grab a few baguettes, fruit and take away coffee.
Speaking to a few surfers while we breakfasted over looking the beach we also discovered that access to Alexandria Bay was possible from Sunshine Beach and was a far shorter walk than from the Noosa side of the National Park. So we promptly headed off and found a parking space from this side of the park.
The walk in was shorter, simply just more than 1km but had none of the dramatic scenery of the Noosa side. Anyway by 10:00 am we stepped out onto the beach and began looking for a space to settle for the day. To the right and south end of the beach there was already a group beginning to form but it appeared to be predominantly male and past middle aged so we headed back towards where we’d camped the last day.
The site was easily located as the branch Shani had stuck in the sand the previous day was still there. As we stripped down Angela and I were quickly out of our clothing and settling out on our towels. Shani was still fully clothed and shuffling around in her backpack she then pulled out her bikini and draped it over the branch, then the towel was carefully laid out, she sat down and began to disrobe stopping when all she had on was the tiniest lace thong Ive ever seen. I asked her if she was really going to take that away, and she clarified that she might get bare later in the day, if her trust arrived again.
We laid there and sunned and chatted for about an hour before a swim was suggested, we looked up and quite a number of people had assembled in our area and along the whole beach. Shani stolen out of the thong and into her bikini bottoms, as well as the three of us headed off into the water, Angela and I both naked. When we got out onto the sandbank the water was about waist deep and we stood there and crashed against the waves as they rolled in, shortly Shani removed her bottoms and tied them around her ponytail.
When we turned to return to shore there was a line of five men simply standing on the waters edge watching us frolic. Not one of these guys had been there when we’d entered the water and we’d need to walk past them to get back to our towels.
Lying in the gutter (the deep water between the sandbank as well as the beach) we waited for these guys to move on before leaving the water. After a couple of minutes this hadn’t happened so Angela used her customary diplomatic style and yelled at them, Would you #$*%#ing perverts, piss off!
She had an immediate effect as well as the guys scattered, enabling us to walk right up to our towels and settle back to some serious sunbaking. We had been settled for some time when a female voice interrupted our silence.
It was the girl from yesterday, who’d been nude but her boyfriend had stayed dressed. She introduced herself as Sarah, from Melbourne and was asking could she sit with us. We didnt have a problem with that and dialogue readily followed.
It appears she and her boyfriend were having a ten day break and he’d suggested http://partnerpost.net for the surfing and really liked surfing in the very light bunches at Alexandria Bay. She had found the location suitably isolated that she had began sunbaking topless and on their fourth day (yesterday) had determined that nude was great.
We asked in case the boyfriend (I dont remember his name, but I think it was Nick, Rick or Mick) had had an issue with her being nude. Sarah went on to clarify that he had a problem with anyone looking at her and he believed she was getting nude to disturb him. Seemingly Nick, Rick, Mick was surfing at Coolum that day and so she had walked in by herself expecting to locate http://voy-zone.com/nudist-video-sample.html and they would meet up much later in the day.
Sarah didnt say it but it absolutely was clear that possessiveness was a real issue between them. Anyhow the day glided on and we watched people come and go, we had a few swims, the pervs stayed away from us, or at least remained invisible. The four of us remained naked for the remaining portion of the day and Sarah and I walked the length of the shore together, and took a couple of pictures of the beach valuing naturist picture etiquette. Sarah is 19 and jobless and not studying and actually doesnt know what exactly is happening with her life, except a vague strategy of marrying Nick, Rick, Mick when he finishes his apprenticeship and moving to Queensland. It is a life strategy I struggle to understand.
At three we packed up to head home. As we were flying and we remembered the second rule of journey (the one after constantly carry a towel) constantly wear fresh panties we all had the novel experience of being dressed into proper underwear, on a beach surrounded by twenty or thirty people. I asked Sarah if she thought following the naked thing when she got home and she said she would, but I suspect it’s only a holiday thing for her.
The trip home was uneventful except that Shani had burnt her bottom just at the top and her thong was rubbing and giving her hell, so in the Qantas Club she went into the bathrooms and removed the offending thing and flew home commando.