I wish I really 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 the united kingdom in the 1970s (I was born in 1968), with a perfectly normal youth. I only ever saw my parents naked once or twice, and I dont think theyve seen me naked since I was about 10.
So, I grew up with all of the ordinary British reservations about showing my body in public. I believe 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 student and then left house. We stayed near Port Grimaud, and one day I decided to see what was on the different side of a large stony breakwater. Imagine my surprise once I saw a beach full of naked folks! Id love to say that 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 pupil (residing at home), I picked up a copy of Health and Efficiency from a store that had it as one of its own top shelf magazines (a phrase that will without a doubt be familiar to British readers, but might be less so to those from overseas. Just keep in mind that Playboy is a top shelf magazine!). It was interesting to discover a magazine full of nude pictures of what I came to think of as normal people doing ordinary things not models who seem to be auditioning for a gynaecological textbook. At this time, I also begun to spend some time throughout http://nudistsnude.com when everyone else was out, but this was more from the illegal thrill perspective. Nevertheless, my opinion started to change, and I found that I actually appreciated being naked, and envied people who could go on naturist holidays. I did manage a few days sunbathing naked in the back garden in an extremely 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 buddy who lived in Poole, on the south coast. 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, someplace I’d learned of in H&E (which I had long stopped purchasing, mostly because I ‘d moved in with my girlfriend). So there I was, walking along Studland, encircled by nudists, but I didnt dare do anything. I mean, I used to work with my (female) friend (and did again a few years later) 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 nerve to suggest to her that we went to the nudist beach because I saw stripping off. She was fairly amazed, but agreed on the understanding that she didnt have to. I truly loved it, much to her bemusement. I even swam nude in the ocean, which was just superb (if a little cool).
Over the the next couple of years, my girlfriend indulged me and we visited Studland once or even twice per year and I also stripped off once or twice on a beach in France, but that was pretty much it.

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For the last 3-4 years yet, we’ve been on vacation in French cottages, and weve always managed to be remote enough for me (and sometimes my girlfriend) to strip off by the pool. Over the last couple of years, I have already been doing a series of http://x-nudism.net (Im an extremely keen hobbyist), and the last one, in 2003, was social documentary. I struggled for quite a long time to think of a theme, and from somewhere deep down I came up with the concept 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 live) who surprisingly 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 chances were. They were most welcoming, and I spent a thoroughly enjoyable evening swimming and playing badminton in the nude.
There were some delays in receiving permission from the sports centre they use, and in the end they said no. With 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 shot any pictures, the club asked me if I liked to join, and I did. I now go along once per month or so, and love it. Theprimary problem is that the team 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 confident enough at present, although she hasnt ruled out the possibility thoroughly.
More recently, I’ve been starting to consider making contact with one of the clubs not too far from Bristol one that has its own land so that I could maybe have somewhere outdoors to see often.

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