Once Upon A Beach

A few years ago, between marriages and feeling somewhat morose, I took a nude walk  along the river.  It was a winter day but comfortable and sunny.

I came upon a woman sitting by a campfire she had built to ward off the chill, and said howdy.  She invited me to join her and we chatted for quite some time. beach 2 200x152

Now, here I am on a romantic beach with an attractive naked woman.  Did I hit on her?  No.  Did she hit on me?  No.

The really strange thing is that we just interacted like two adults, enjoyed each other’s company, and shared a nice afternoon.  Naked.

Shouldn’t we have fallen upon each other and had wild and passionate sex?  I mean, isn’t that what nudity is all about?

Instead, we behaved like any two mature adults would had they met in a coffee shop. 

That sure doesn’t fit the average picture of what the general public  has of nudists, does it?  Hedonists!

Now, to be totally honest, looking back those few years, I really don’t  know why we didn’t have wild and passionate sex on the beach.  But you know what?  I guess we just didn’t need to. 

What we had was a man and a woman sharing some time together without the sexual connotations that usually mar relationships between them.  And we were naked

Does this not fly in the face of everything we have been raised to believe? 

HPIM0022 I don’t know how to wrap up this story.  I just know that there is a profound wisdom learned here, something to do with the ridiculous idea that less clothing equals sexual promiscuity.   That’s absurd.

I’m still trying to end this thing.  I guess I just have to say that the afternoon with that woman was really nice.  Guys are always hitting on women, even when they don’t know it.  I think it’s in our genes.  This was an afternoon when I actually enjoyed the company of a woman without feeling the need to hit on her.  Does that make sense?

Angie’s going to kill me when she reads this, unless I’ve managed to express what mean to say correctly.                                    -S

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