I remember my first encounters with being naked had nothing

related to nudism, that’s for sure! Changing into or out of swim suit as a child, and especially at my grandparents house, was always something I did alone. Why? I had no idea back then. As I got a little older I remember a couple of occasions when my brother and I changed in the exact same downstairs utility room, but I think that was because we were in a hurry to go someplace else or when grandmother was about to do laundry and needed the suits for the wash.
Grandmother never made a fuss about seeing our nude buttocks. Why would she? Eventually I began comprehending that nakedness was something particular and there was seemingly a reason folks did not do it all over. This would have been my “awakening” to puberty, I guess. Along this time there are a number of vague memories of sitting around my grandparents house wrapped in only a towel, which was likely after swimming. There is one clear memory of my brother “streaking” through the house and out the rear garage door. He came to a halt at the end of the garage, near the road, where a number of neighbor girls were outside across the street washing a car! That occasion was a family event that was talked about for years, and neither the neighbors or the girls ever said anything to us. I am sure he was seen, but again, this was summer, we were seeing, and we were just kids!
If I ‘d just understood then what I know now, I’d have been “streaking” way more than my brother and probably would have devised a dozen ways to loose my swim trunks or forget them someplace. Years afterwards and several states away from my grandparents home, I recall skinny dipping with young nudist as well as a neighborhood friend named Mark.

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We were going fishing at a lake behind our apartments and got ridiculously hot and sweaty traipsing through the woods from one fishing spot to another.
Mark, being the earliest of the bunch, said he was going swimming. He went into the water and then threw his cutoff shorts out after a couple of minutes. I believe I went in second and did not want to walk home in soaking wet cut offs, so I removed mine before going into the water. We all thought this was quite daring because of being in clear view of a local international airport’s runway. Anyone looking out the windows of a plane taxiing and turning around at the end of http://x-pot.com would have had a fairly clear view of us lads. We had great pleasure that summer and there was nothing “inappropriate” about it. I also recall my mother and step-father once mentioning a possible visit to Virginia’s eastern coastline, and asking both my brother and I if we would go to a nude beach with them. This never happened though.
It was not until about ten years after that I was presented to printed literature on nudism.

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