It was the third year running that we spent our vacations in Nesebre and that year we chose to continue with this particular well established convention.
We put up in a modest but cozy resort and that very day we were all prepared to enjoy the seaside air and sun. The days were flying quickly as it’s the usual manner the days pass when one is having vacations and one of these days we made a decision to alter the typical way in which we were spending our time, so we hit it off and made it to the nude beach in which Nesebr was fairly ample. Here I ought to say that we planned seeing one of the nude beaches of Nesebr before really going there. The fact was that we’d seen some of them during our previous stays in Bulgaria before. Plus back at home we saw a TV reportage about nudists which made us firmly choose sunbathing nude during our next vacation. Back then this encounter appeared something as exotic as a hang glider tour or parachute jumping for us. But it occurred so that my friend Emily and I were the ones to put forward the idea and Bill was the one to put up with our whims, so it was hardly an enjoyable experience for him.
And so we went to the nude beach, Emily, Bill who was still sulky, and me, all eager to impress all the naked beachers with my feeling at ease while sunbathing naked and trusting that my body was also fairly striking. When we eventually got to the shore of one of the hotels we saw many German people who are known devotees of naked beaching and suddenly felt something like retarded cowardice. Of course we didn’t feel like people there were dangerous in some way, but we definitely believed that the pangs of conscience and chastity restraints were still strong in us. Overall, dreaming of a nude beach by means of your friend while sipping coffee in her kitchen was one thing, as well as the closing getting to this very beach was quite another. And the very moment when we were ready to turn our backs on the beach Statement called us faint hearted cowards which sparked the flow of feministic fluids in us that made us ten times bolder and determined.
When we finally chose a fairly deserted place on the shore and stripped to the skin this provoker Bill was the one to wear swimming trunks. The first half an hour we were still under belief of our own nerve, but having discovered that if our action of http://peenudist.com hadn’t passed undetected it had absolutely been underestimated, we decided to turn to something more provocative. There was a group of beachers playing volleyball at a space, and soon we decided to join them. Bill who was certainly the laziest member of our firm was left behind. Maybe I should say that it was my first-time-ever volleyball play, and even when I managed to hit the ball it followed such odd trajectories that the sole face I felt worth wearing was that of an A-class volleyball player who had little disposition to minding the evaluation of such crippled volleyball hobbyists.
Emily was flushed and wore a bright grin on her face; she had managed to discuss her emotions about the hole experience by the time I was going to express my solidarity with her, but the next minute I felt something hit me fairly painfully on the back part of my head; after the idea which had nearly formed itself in my mind had gone somewhat confused and obscured and somehow lost its topicality. It ended up being a ball inadvertently thrown by a volleyball player that strike me on the back of my believing head. All in all, I wasn’t put in much pain and had it not been for the singularity of the scenario I ‘d have laughed at it. But the situation was far too unusual, so I thought the better of it and made a thoroughly theatrical scene out of it. I rolled up my eyes and leaned on my buddy for everyone to see that I was enduring the heaviest agony that threatened to further develop into a loss of consciousness. I was definitely a success while playing my role of an innocent sufferer as my friend suggested me sitting down, beckoning Bill at exactly the same time. But the offender of the unintended collision of the ball and my styled hair was the first to arrive. I should say that the terrorist seemed fairly appealing even to my rather delicate taste.
He must have thought that we were from the States by Emily’s animated exclamations he attempted to smooth the situation around in his broken English striving now to say he was sorry and now to tell some uncomfortable jokes. In a word, the very first favorable impression he made on me was now backed by his humiliation and I began showing the first feeble signs of life. He was feeling quite difficult with the whole situation indeed, and following a number of formalities appropriate in such instances he left the scene, all in sackcloth and ashes after he heard that I was absolutely safe.
After this injury the events developed in accordance with http://nudist-picture-club.com of a joyful vacation time love affair. In the morning I discovered a bouquet of flowers on the windowsill of my hotel room and then… but this is quite another story that has little to do with nudism. The sole drawback of the narrative is that now when our friends ask us where we first met we must say something laconic like – well, we met on the shore. After all, who needs those zesty details?