An Insiders Guide to Naturism

11 Apr

It was a stunning beach, the sand was fine and the sun was shining. I did a quick scan and it was completely deserted but for me. I was feeling high on life after an invigorating swim in the transparent ocean. “Go on, do it Rossy! Are you a man or a mouse” The voice, the one that occasionally makes me do naughty things. Normally I reply “mouse” but this time I didn’t. I dropped my shorts and stood there in all my ‘glory’. I reassured myself that the ocean was particularly bracing and that it was normal for it to look like that.

It felt good, it felt amazing, this is it, the new me, the naturist me………………and then I convinced myself that someone in the bushes was watching me and quickly yanked my shorts back on. In my panic I put both feet through the same hole and toppled over. I now had sand in my mouth and an arse that protruded from the sand in a fashion that must have been pretty inviting for the local seagull population to perch on. I vowed to ignore the voice forever.
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This wasn’t my first brush with naturism. Before Mrs Under there was another, never a Mrs but a Miss. Miss invited me to meet her parents, I was always quite good at meeting girlfriends parents, firm handshake and some inappropriate gags for Dad, flowers and my ‘listening face’ for Mum. The evening was going to plan and they were both lapping up the Down Under charm, I excused myself when nature called. I picked up a magazine and flicked through without any great focus. Strange magazine this, as far as I can make out it seems to be photographs of elderly people partaking in volleyball and badminton and if I’m not mistaken that mans shuttle cock is on display. I turned the magazine over and noticed I was reading the Spring Issue of Naturist UK. I was in the home of a naturist couple. Miss’s Mum and Dad like to play volleyball in the buff!

The rest of the evening was spent trying desperately to maintain eye contact with the adventurous couple and trying desperately not to make any unintentional double entendres, did you dress the salad and such like. I explained my nervous disposition to Miss, she was a little embarrassed but fessed up and my naked suspicions were confirmed. Things got serious with Miss. “Would you like to come and stay at our villa in the South of France?” This is a question that usually answers itself but I stalled before stuttering “Will your parents be attending?”

A few weeks later I was sunning myself in a beautiful villa, but as her Dad struts past wearing a flimsy cotton sarong I had the unfamiliar feeling of being on holiday but secretly praying for rain, or thunder, or snow, or preferably all three. Fortunately Mr and Mrs Nude respected my prudish ways and kept their bits and pieces under wraps. The volleyball and shuttle cock remained undisturbed.
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One evening we were invited for dinner with their friends. I had rediscovered my mojo and thought it would be a fantastic opportunity to get those last few brownie points I was looking to score. Judging by the scale of the entrance gates and the walled perimeter this was going to be quite some place. And then I saw a placard, two words popped right out and slapped me in the face like a pair of testicles – Nudist Resort. This was no villa this was a nudist resort, A NUDIST RESORT!

I felt faint, my breathing became rapid and shallow, there was a tightness in my chest; basically I was displaying the classics symptoms of an impending heart attack. I made a partial recovery when I was introduced to our fully clothed hosts. “You look a bit on edge young man, would you like a glass of wine”. I knocked it back and went in for a refill and then another. Dinner was served on the balcony overlooking a beautiful garden, you’ve got to hand it to the nudists their lawns and bushes are impeccably landscaped.
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The wine and the ambience, but mostly the wine, had an effect on me and I began to relax. Dinner was a beautiful fish soup and the hosts turned out to be remarkably good company. I was just about to bite into a juicy prawn that I had tipsily de-shelled when I looked up and came face to face with a ripe old couple taking the bins out dressed only in sandals. A conversation about the weather ensued between host and bin pushers, I put the prawn back in the bowl as it didn’t really look very appetising anymore.

Me and Miss didn’t stand the test of time, I want to go on holiday without having nightmares about being attacked by giant prawns or experiencing mild heart attacks. I like my in-laws just the way they are, covered up.

Flogging my blog with one time perm queen Grace at With Some Grace

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12 Responses to “An Insiders Guide to Naturism”

  1. lisa @ mummy's undeserved blessings April 11, 2013 at 3:17 am #

    My hubby and I accidental stumbled on to a nudist beach (after being told that it was a great beach by a crusty old guy). Lucky we didn’t have to see him on that beach but what we saw was enough.

    • daddownunder April 11, 2013 at 3:26 am #

      It seems to be a past time favoured by the 60+ Lisa. It sounds like oyu’ve been scarred too!

  2. LettheWildflowersGrow April 11, 2013 at 3:22 am #

    HA HA HA HA!!I have far to many images to express which one has me laughing so hard now,and everything I am thinking about writing really couldn’t come across very well at this moment in time.Oh my goodness,by the sounds of it you have many more stories vaulted away,and I personally would like to read more on the younger version of Dad Down Under.xx

    • daddownunder April 11, 2013 at 3:24 am #

      The young downunder definitely has more stories to tell than the dad version ; ) Take all the images out immediately Jessi, sorry for putting them there in the first place

  3. Karen Reid April 11, 2013 at 3:35 am #

    I ‘dated’ a nudist once it’s very disconcerting trying to have dinner conversation when staring at a naked man. I never thought of myself as a prude but that was a bit much.
    Hilarious post Mr Under

    • daddownunder April 11, 2013 at 3:38 am #

      Thanks Karen, I hope it didn’t bring back too many memories

  4. Kathy April 11, 2013 at 10:52 pm #

    There’s nudists and there are potential parents-in-law who are nudists – I don’t blame you for not going the distance! Nice to find some Dads blogging, visiting from FYBF.

    • daddownunder April 11, 2013 at 11:00 pm #

      My sentiments exactly Kathy. Thanks for the comment

  5. Kylez @ A Study in Contradictions April 12, 2013 at 1:07 pm #

    I hate to say it it I’m not sure I would be able to go the distance with the prospect of nudist I laws either! It’s bad enough seeing your own parents naked after you’ve reached a certain age, let alone your partners parents!

    • daddownunder April 12, 2013 at 1:15 pm #

      My sentiments exactly Kylez, shallow but ultimately true

  6. Vanessa Beattie (@BabblingBandit) April 14, 2013 at 1:10 am #

    Ha. My family used to get into a little naturism back in the 80s. Mum, dad, my sister and I and my much older brother and his wife, their friends and occasionally my cousin would all go up to Shelley Beach near Pacific Palms on the Central Coast. It was a lovely secluded beach and everyone would be starkers. It just seemed normal to my young self but I remember clearly the year I decided it wasn’t so cool to be nude. I don’t think I’d be bothered by a lone naked man on the beach, but a boyfriend’s parents? Ah, no. Computer says no.

    V.

    • daddownunder April 15, 2013 at 3:35 am #

      Anything went in the 80’s didnt it? At leas tit was your parents Vanessa and not your potential inlaws. Clever computer for saying no. Thanks for stopping by

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