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

in http://voyzone.com . But I cant. I grew up in the East Midlands in britain in the 1970s (I was born in 1968), with a totally normal childhood. I only ever saw my parents naked once or twice, and I dont believe theyve seen me naked since I was about 10.
So, I grew up with all of the standard British reservations about revealing my body in public. I believe that my first exposure to naturism came on vacation in the south of France with my parents when I was (I believe) about 17 – my last vacation with them before I became a student and then left house. We stayed near Port Grimaud, and one day I chose to see what was on the other side of http://wnude.com . Imagine my surprise when I saw a beach full of naked people! Id like to say that I went and stripped off and joined them, but I didnt. Remember, this was a time when I didnt even need my parents to see me without a top on!
Anyway, when I was a student (residing at home), I picked up a copy of Health and Efficiency from a store that had it as one of its top shelf magazines (a phrase that will without a doubt be familiar to British readers, but may be less so to those from overseas. Just don’t forget 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 normal people doing normal things not models who seem to be auditioning for a gynaecological textbook. At the moment, I also begun to spend some time throughout the house nude when everyone else was outside, but this was more from the illicit delight point of view. However, my opinion began to change, and I found that I really enjoyed being nude, and envied people who could go on naturist holidays. I did manage a few days sunbathing nude in the back garden in a very rare time when my parents were on vacation and my brother was still away at school 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 absolutely was Studland Bay, someplace I’d heard of in H&E (which I ‘d long ceased purchasing, mainly 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 later) and couldnt imagine 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 indicate to her that we went to the nudist beach since I fancied stripping off. She was quite amazed, but agreed on the understanding that she didnt have to. I really enjoyed it, much to her bemusement. I even swam nude in the ocean, which was just brilliant (if a little cool).
Over the the next couple of years, my girlfriend indulged me and we seen Studland once or twice 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 have been on vacation in French bungalows, and weve always managed to be distant enough for me (and sometimes my girlfriend) to strip off by the pool. During the last few years, I’ve been doing a series of photography classes (Im a very sharp amateur), and the last one, in 2003, was social documentary. I fought for a long time to think of a subject, and from somewhere deep down I came up with the concept of doing something on naturism. I hunted round the internet and found a club in Marlborough (which is about 50 miles from Bristol where I now reside) who astonishingly enough were agreeable for me to shoot some photographs 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 that they could meet me and I could see what the photographic possibilities 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 had been 2 or 3 times and was getting to love it. So, even though my job was killed off before I had taken any pictures, the club asked me if I liked to join, and I did.

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I now go along once per month or so, and adore it. The main 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 assured enough at present, although she hasnt ruled out the possibility completely.
More recently, I have been beginning to consider making contact with one of the clubs not too far from Bristol one that has its own land so that I could perhaps have someplace outdoors to see often.

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