Since my early teens, I’ve always adored the feeling of swimming and sunning bare.

And several late nights, after the rest of the family had gone to bed, I’d quietly ease ito the pool for a skinny dip. It turned out to be a marvelous natural high.
Interestingly enough, I decided to attend college at UC San Diego.
So, I understood right then and there where I would be taking the majority of my study breaks.
I have to say, though, that I experienced what I would expect is a normal degree of trepidation when faced with a first-time nude beach experience. I remember going to the beach a couple of times, and staying clothed, attempting to decide whether I was “safe”. I saw that the beach was huge and spread out such that one could very much maintain a sense of having “personal space”, at what felt like a comfortable distance from other beach goers whose motives for being there might be substantially less than innocent. Finally, the bait of what I had in the rear of my head always wanted to experience won out, and one day I took my new boogie-board down to beach, and without reluctance discarded my swimsuit.
I rushed down to the water, still a little nervous, trying not to make eye contact with the few individuals that were nearby. I plunged into the waves, and immediately realized I was having the time of my own life.
I worn out after a little while, and chose to head back up to the beach. Feeling more relaxed and confident now, I looked around at a number of the others present.
After a moment or two of nervousness, I immediately determined that this was basically a public place, and going nude was my pick, and that I couldn’t actually stop anyone who wanted to look at me from looking. And that as long as they kept a respectable distance and refrained from outwardly lewd conduct or unwanted advances or harassment, I’d just accept the “eye contact” as a compliment, and think no more of and love myself.
I was pleased when it turned out that my fellow naked folks acted just as I had figured they would. And my attitude toward the nude encounter is pretty much the same now — taking off my clothing is a choice I make, but I can not control what you do. In the event you need to look, go right ahead and look, but I trust that you just will not harass or otherwise act distastefully.
To this day, my recollections of my many, many nude trips to that beach are a few of my greatest memories. In the last few years, I’ve been land-locked, so to speak, near Sacramento, but it’s consistently been in the rear of my head to get back to Black’s. I had also like to look at San Onofre.

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