First Nude Beach

Although I have been sleeping nude since my early teens, my first experience with social nudity just took place in August 1998. I had been reading about nudism on the Internet and grew curious how being a nudist might actually feel. I was going to San Francisco on business and did a search for Bay Area nude beaches. Having a free day in the Bay Area, I chose to try Baker Beach, just South of the Golden Gate Bridge.

I parked in the crowded lot adjacent to the textile part of the beach. Then, wearing a t shirt and trunks, I walked onto the beach till I reached wet sand. I hiked North along the water's edge toward the Golden Gate, still not sure where the nude portion of the beach would start. The view along Baker Beach is truly spectacular! I began to see some naked buns up ahead on the wide, sandy beach. Then, there I was among a whole bunch of nude sunbathers! There were also some fully clothed people on that section of beach, walking dogs, just enjoying the ocean, or gawking at the nudists. Also, there were several groups of Asian surf fishermen. They had their lines out in the surf, the poles held upright by metal supports driven into the sand. The fishermen seemed content to fish and talk among themselves, ignoring the walkers and the nudists altogether.

I made my way to a large outcropping of rocks that sort of mark the end of Baker Beach. There, I was faced with where to go and what to do next. Still in a t shirt and trunks, I walked up into the soft sand and began to look for an inconspicuous spot to sit and map out my plan of action, or inaction. There were people in groups of 2, 4, or more along the bank at the back edge of the sand. I picked a vacant area along the bank where there were both men and women. There were two couples a short distance from me, nearer the water. One couple was nude, the other man was nude and his companion was topless. Another group of obvious veteran nudists were setting up a volleyball net in front of the couples.

I removed my shirt and sat down on the towel, trying to gather up my courage. There were so many butterflies in my stomach, my scalp tingled and my throat went totally dry. Some other people, I noticed, also had on trunks so nobody seemed to notice my plight. I did not want to be branded a gawker, so I decided to count to three, then take off my trunks. 1,2,3, Nothing! I was frozen in place. 1,2,3, still frozen! I must have counted to 90 by threes. That ploy, obviously, was not going to work. I then decided that whoever said the first time is easier for men than women had grossly overgeneralized!

After sitting on my towel like a stone statue for about 20 minutes, I finally got up the courage to carefully ease my trunks off without getting up. Nobody cheered, nobody giggled, nobody cared! I was now sitting completely naked among a hundred or more other people. The sky did not fall! My first reaction was one of relief. My second reaction was, Hmmm, this does feel pretty good. Third reaction, I think I might like this. Fourth reaction after another 30 minutes, Wow, I know I like this!

By now, the volleyball game was going with two coed teams. Two more females arrived, pushing their bikes through the sand, and promptly stripped before sitting down with a group of their friends. The couple directly in front of me was now nude, she having removed her shorts. Thank goodness, my fear of getting an erection at the sight of numerous naked women was totally unfounded. Again, I was relieved to have that concern behind me.

After an hour or so on my towel, I began to get restless. I was nude now, but still frozen to the towel. A fellow a few yards away passed by and asked me to watch his things while he walked around. I nodded and mumbled that I would keep an eye on his stuff. When he returned, I asked that he watch my towel and meager belongings so that I could leave for a few minutes. With a burst of will power, source unknown, I rose and slowly ambled to the water's edge. Careful to avoid the fishing lines, I waded ankle deep in the cool Pacific and back down to the rock outcropping. It was a peaceful feeling to wade in the ocean and listen to the surf. The sun and sea air felt so good on my naked body. I then sat on a low rock, next to a rather large sleeping woman, and watched the progress of the volleyball game for a few minutes. The woman awoke, noticed me sitting on the rock, and nonchalantly began reading her book.

Most of the volleyball players had dark, all over tan, but one young gal had very distinct tan lines, so I thought she must be a newbie, like me. She was thoroughly enjoying herself, jumping for the ball, serving, and laughing as she stumbled in the sand. I laughed too and realized that I was enjoying my first day as a nudist. As I meandered back toward my towel, I passed several pairs of men who appeared to me to be gay. I didn't bother them, they didn't bother me. I thought briefly about chatting with one of the couples. They were both lily white and spoke to each other with a distinct New York accent. But, I lost my nerve and moved on past them to my towel, my security blanket, without uttering a word.

The remainder of the afternoon was uneventful. I left my towel every so often to go down to the ocean. That kept my butt from going to sleep! Mostly, I basked nude in the sun and felt all the tenseness melt away. The butterflies also departed and I began to understand why so many nudists talk about the freedom and wonderful release they experience while naked.

My first experience with social nudity wasn't very social. I only spoke a few words to one person all afternoon. But the personal benefits of taking that initial plunge have been fantastic. That day led to others, mostly at local resorts. I was able to spend a day last year at Red Rock Beach, a smaller Bay Area nude beach just South of Stimson Beach. I am now more comfortable chatting with other nudists, both on the Web and in person when I have the opportunity.