I wish I could say that I grew up in a naturist household, 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 ordinary childhood. 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 vacation in the south of France with my parents when I was (I think) 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 made the decision to see what was on the different side of a large stony breakwater. Imagine my surprise once I saw a beach full of nude people! Id like to say which 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 pupil (residing at home), I picked up beach fuck of Health and Efficiency from a store that had it as one of its top shelf magazines (a phrase that will undoubtedly be familiar to British readers, but might be less so to those from foreign. Just don’t forget that Playboy is a top shelf magazine!). It was interesting to find a magazine full of nude photos of what I came to think of as normal people doing ordinary things not models who appear to be auditioning for a gynaecological textbook. Right now, I also started to spend some time round the house nude when everyone else was outside, but this was more from the illicit delight perspective. Nevertheless, my opinion began to change, and I found that I actually enjoyed being nude, and envied people who could go on naturist holidays. I did handle a few afternoons sunbathing naked in the back garden in a very rare time when my parents were on holiday and my brother was still away at college in another 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 friend warned us that there was a nudist section. It was Studland Bay, someplace I had heard of in H&E (which I had long stopped purchasing, chiefly because I ‘d 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 couple of 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 pleasant, and I somehow plucked up the courage to suggest to her that we went to the nudist beach since http://nudebeachpicture.net 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 naked in the sea, which was just superb (if a little cool).
During the next couple of years, my girlfriend indulged me and we visited Studland once or two times annually and I likewise stripped off once or twice on a beach in France, but that was pretty much it. For the last 3-4 years yet, we’ve been on vacation in French bungalows, and weve always managed to be distant enough for me (and occasionally my girlfriend) to strip off by the pool.

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During the past year or two, I’ve been doing a series of photography classes (Im a very sharp 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 notion 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 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 really could see what the photographic chances 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 had been 2 or 3 times and was getting to enjoy it. Thus, even though my job was killed off before I ‘d shot any images, the team asked me if I liked to join, and I did. I now go along once a month or so, and love it. Theprimary 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’ve been beginning to think about making contact with one of the clubs not too far from Bristol one that has its own land so that I could potentially have someplace outside to see often.



  1. In case you’re interested, I’ve sent the entire set of 485 pictures to coccozella, where 1400 of my previous pictures are also available. Best site I’ve ever found for pictures of this type and easily worth the modest cost.

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