Memories Part two

The continuation of my life as a naturist

The thing that I considered a saving grace and proof that it wasn't a sexual perversion was that despite the onset of puberty and my hormones running wild, there was never anything sexual about these sessions, I never got aroused by them. Even the two teenage riders hadn’t caused any sexual reaction - I was probably too scared.

* * *

When I was about fifteen, a school friend showed me a copy of H & E, he’d got it to look at the nude women. Some newsagents would let the older school kids buy the few "girlie" mags that were readily available at the time and some of the kids lifted them from the shops that wouldn't sell to them. I didn't ask my friend how he got it, but he was one of very few friends I had at school, so I trusted that he'd paid for it.

Some of the, more intimate, details were airbrushed out in those days, but the breasts and rest of the body were visible and for most schoolboys that was enough to start the blood boiling.

That magazine changed my life, the pictures were the most wonderful thing I had ever seen, Men and Women naked, swimming, playing tennis and volleyball or just sitting talking and sunbathing. I was ecstatic and walking on air for weeks afterwards.

My friend couldn’t understand why I was looking at the somewhat distant activity pictures rather than the close-up pictures of individual naked women and he gave me some very funny looks when I started reading the articles instead of pouring over the naked ladies.

But this was what I had been looking for, I wasn’t a pervert – I was a naturist, the relief was immense. Of course at that age there was no way I could join a club and my parents had no leanings in that direction, I had never even seen them in the bath. But I still felt I belonged to a naturist community that, until then, I didn't know existed.

So I made do with my visits to the woods, getting more daring and exploring further a field wearing only my shoes. Soon I was able to cross open ground between areas of woodland and could walk for miles totally unencumbered. Only slipping my trousers on to cross the road if anything was coming.

I could look down at a nearby village before skirting round to the banks of a very pretty reservoir. Swimming wasn't allowed in the reservoir and I would have been spotted by the anglers, in their boats, if I'd tried. So I made do with rambling through the woods at the south end. I could have gone into the local deer park from there but it has always been a popular park and despite its size it was hard to walk there totally unseen.

* * *

My visits to this, secret place and beyond, lasted from around the time of puberty, until I got my own transport and was able to travel to better places. Then I made trips to the seaside and went nude among the dunes or swimming naked by the simple expedient of wading out in my swimming trunks, then as soon as I was far enough out and away from people, taking them off and enjoying the feeling of the water over my body. With the sea not being clear it didn’t matter if anyone passed by or came close to where I was swimming, they couldn’t see anything and be offended. But I always had an escape route if anyone seemed to be getting too close.

Sometimes if I found a deserted beach I could be nude all day, swimming and sunbathing it was great. But I felt that something was missing, I enjoyed what I was doing but wanted to share it with someone. I did, from time to time come across others going nude in the dunes. But no-one spoke, even when I apologised for disturbing them. It was mainly men but occasionally I would see a couple and once a lone woman, who looked as old as my mother, smiled and replied, "That’s alright." Before returning to her book. I have no idea who they were but they were the first naked people I'd ever seen and the lone woman was the first naked woman who'd spoken to me.

to be continued

memories

Since my illness started I have been a bit lax with this blog and I hope to improve matters.
Despite my professing that naturism isn't about looks etc, I have been reluctant to take and post pictures of older people, like Maja and I. We are retired now and have both gained some weight, but I have to bite the bullet and take some more pictures or a large part of our lives will be missing, so look forward to them soon.

In the mean time I have been writing a book about our naturism from the beginning, but it isn't enough to publish as a book. So I intend to publish it here in instalments, please let me know in the comments what you think.

Memories  of a Naturist

Part one - First Faltering Steps

I grew up on a Council Estate in Leicester, not the most prepossessing place for anyone with naturist tendencies, but it did have one saving grace. We lived on the edge of the city, beyond it was the open countryside of the city farms leading to the small village of Anstey, birth place of Ned Ludd, of Luddite fame. 

Around and beyond Anstey was open countryside and eventually Bradgate Park, the ancestral home of Lady Jane Grey. The grounds, now a deer park, of which had been brought by a local businessman and donated to the people of Leicester for their enjoyment.

Mostly it was open land but there were patches of woodland, sometimes quite dense most of these areas were in use by the local kids to make dens and play war games or cowboys and indians.  

But further away from the estate there were areas that were less frequented. One in particular was close to the farmhouse, only separated from it by a paddock, and far enough from the estate not to be disturbed.

When I first realised the potential of the area I was very nervous, I would go and sit there for ages, waiting to see if anyone came, but no-one ever did, no-one was living at the farm house – it was only used as an office, and so I decided to try going nude. I would only strip for a few minutes at a time, all the time worried that someone would catch me. But the times got longer and eventually I would to go there and spend hours without clothes, as often as I could.

Once when I was walking through the trees I came to a slightly thinner patch of woodland with a clear view of the paddock where two teenage girls were riding horses around some low jumps – I fled, pulling on my clothes as I ran, certain that someone would be after me.

But nothing happened, I breathed a sigh of relief, if either of the girls had seen me they cant have said anything. It was a long time before I ventured back there and eventually I decided that I hadn’t been spotted, no-one came to disturb my secret place. But I made up my mind to be more careful in future and steer clear of the thinner area of woodland. Also before stripping off I would check that the paddock was empty.

I would have loved to have shared my nudity, but I wasn’t going to risk being caught by someone who didn’t want to understand the joy of being nude in the open air.

My visits to this, secret place, lasted from around the time of puberty, until I got my own transport and was able to travel to better places, further a field.

Despite my hormones running wild at puberty there was never anything sexual about these sessions, which surprised me. Even the two teenage riders hadn’t caused any sexual reaction - I was probably too scared. 

I didn’t know what naturism was then and sometimes worried that there was something wrong with me. But I enjoyed the freedom and the feeling of the wind and sometimes rain on my skin, I couldn’t see how something so liberating could be wrong.

To be continued

back on top again

After the mix up with google things are all back to normal again.

Although nude rather than naturist, I dont think I've published these two before. I dont see anything wrong with boudoir shots, I'll check mine and see if there are any can be published.