Living Naked
I spent the summer living in a nudist club. Summer is now a distant memory and the British winter is just around the corner; rain, cold, fog, rain, rain and it may even snow at some point. Did I mention it might rain?
But I am not here to talk about the weather, although that’s a topic that’s always in the conversation here in the UK.
Clothes, or lack of, is what we are discussing. Living in the nudist club means I did not have to wear clothes. In fact the rules state the nudity is mandatory if the weather is nice. (So that’s not very often in England!) In fact that’s not true and I spent the whole summer starkers. I only got dressed if I had to leave the safety of the club.
It takes a while to get into the habit of not getting dressed, or to get out of the habit of getting dressed, every morning. It also took a while to get used to friends calling round with only a smile and their towel. You have to know where your towel is in the nudist club, you always sit on a towel. (So every day is Towel Day.)
After a while it all becomes very normal. No one notices that you’re naked. Delivery drivers, postman, (and postlady as well) milkman all take the nudity in their stride. Some even got naked and availed themselves of the swimming pool.
BUT:-
Suddenly it’s winter and I am back in the real world. Getting dressed each morning. Not just to combat the British weather but the prudery of most people.
Roll on summer, I miss you.
Hmm, it’s nearly summer in New Zealand, now that’s tempting …
Categories: Naked, Naturism
2 Comments »
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December 4th, 2009 at 22:11
Is it only the summer weather over here that’s tempting? *hmmph*
xx Dee
December 4th, 2009 at 23:36
Oh and of course a certain curvy lady whom I would love to meet.
And hug.
And spank.
Fred