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In fact I had only ever owned one swimsuit - a large black, shapeless monstrosity that I wore under sufferance at our annual school swimming carnivals. I was on a quest to learn to be comfortable in my own body.
A year earlier I'd heard some people at work talking about their weekend on a nudist beach.
The retreat, hidden away in the hinterlands, was beautifully advertised online as a 'nature retreat' where one could walk in the beautiful australian bush, dip one's toes in pristine waterfalls, admire native fauna and flora, and enjoy the best of peaceful and comfortable camping.
All that was enticing and welcoming to a young woman stressed out with years of study, work and yet more study, and I SHOULD by rights be feeling the relaxation seep into my bones already. Because as well as being the seemingly idyllic locale for my week long holiday - the retreat was also a Naturist (not 'clothing optional') Resort.
This is the story of how I went from a prude, to nude and finally to rude.
For those readers who expect a lot of immediate sexual activity, this may disappoint.
"Just what the hell," I asked myself again, "was I doing here? To understand the decision that had brought me to this place you need to know a little about me.
One penis was about all I could manage at the moment.
We reached the sundeck and Sabrina offered me a seat at an outdoor dining table while Dave disappeared inside the house.
Believe it or not, I'd never been so close to another naked woman before.
He labia, even her clitoral hood was there plain as day for me to see and I was embarrassed, exhilarated... Dave came out to the table, bringing me some forms to fill in, an information sheet about the facilities and nature walks, and a list of "do's and don'ts".