I was raised in a very traditional Jewish history. We were supposed to dress modestly

at photo nudism . I never considered going nude in private, much less in public.
Then one day I came home from work very tired. I simply needed to put on my nightie and get into bed. But it turned out to be a hot summer day and evening, and I was sweaty, so I showered first–that’s obviously the one thing I consistently did nude, though I never gave that any thought.
I came out of the shower and dried off. I wasn’t sweaty anymore, but I was exhausted. I just fell on the bed, too exhausted to even notice that I hadn’t troubled to put anything on. I fell asleep in minutes.
as soon as I woke up, I was somewhat surprised to realize that I ‘d not only had I slept bare the whole night, but it was the very best night’s sleep I ever had. The next night, I was not so tired–but I couldn’t stop thinking about how great it felt to sleep bare. So I made a decision to attempt it on purpose this time.
I got into bed naked, also it felt quite great. I slept well again that night, and in the morning I felt so comfortable and relaxed that I didn’t want to get up and get dressed. But of course I had to.
From that point, it was a rather brief time till I was usually bare when home alone, because it felt so good. I felt beach blondes for awhile because it went against everything I were taught since childhood. However, the relaxation outweighed the remorse.
However, the concept of letting other women see me nude in public–much less men!– never crossed my head. I still had some Jewish modesty. Fully being a Californian, from the greater LA region, I’d learned of nude beaches. But I had no urge to see one.
Fully being a great Californian though, I did spend lots of free time on the shore in the summer–constantly wearing a bathing suit, of course. And one day, while I was shifting out of my wet and sandy bathing suit, I began to consider how good it felt to take it off. And the more I thought about it, the more I started to consider the prospect of skinnydipping.
One really hot Sunday in August, I made a courageous choice: I was going to learn if I had the heart to overcome my strait laced upbringing. I got into my car and drove south to San Diego, and parked at the cliff over Black’s Beach. For nearly 20 minutes, I sat in the car, attempting to work up enough nerve to make the climb down to a place where I knew I’d see nude men and women. I almost did not go. Jewish guilt was taking hold of me.
But as I began to turn the key to drive away, I couldn’t do it. I was determined the time that I spent driving down there wasn’t going to be wasted. I’d come to see a nude beach, and I wasn’t going to leave without seeing it.
Slowly, I began to walk down the trail to the beach. Actually that’s the sole way you can do it, but I was going slower than required. Finally, I reached the bottom, and could barely believe what I was seeing. There were lots of guys, most of them naked. There were women in all stages of dress and undress. There were families with young children.
I located an uncrowded area and put my towel down, and sat down on it, having no idea what I was going to do next. Part of me wanted to pull everything off and go running into the ocean. Part of me felt dreadful for being in such a location.
I shut my eyes, and believed, and thought some more. The thought of taking off my clothes in front of men–how could a nice Jewish girl do that? But there were other women there, and they took their clothes away, and they had no issue with letting men see them.
The ocean appeared increasingly more inviting. The guilt weighed on me. Even if I stayed clothed, only being in this kind of spot and seeing such sights was erroneous. For nearly an hour, I was lacerated. I went back and forth–and finally, the ocean won. If it was a sin to be here anyway, it couldn’t be any worse of a sin to participate. If these folks saw me naked, they wouldn’t be seeing anything they hadn’t seen before.
Fast, before I could think again and change my mind, I stripped. I took everything away, and ran into the ocean. As the waves washed over me, it washed the guilt away. I felt fantastic. I was skinnydipping in public, in mixed company, and enjoying it thoroughly. I came out of the ocean, along with the sensation of not wearing a wet sandy bathing suit felt amazing.
From that instant on, I was a new individual. I’m still a traditonal Jew. I eat only kosher food, and I actually don’t drive on the Sabbath. I still proceed to the synagogue on Sabbaths and Holidays. But I am a Jewish nudist, and I love it.

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