Hanging in the Ocean

Wriggly Kitty Wicked Wednesday Header Image

Before setting off to the Med, I googled our destination. It was tiny, hard to get to and didn’t even classify as a resort by British package holiday standards. But one thing did catch my eye, naturist beach, about ten minutes walk away.

I’m body conscious. I hate getting naked, even in front of TSH, if I overthink it. I’m not an exhibitionist and the idea of being naked in front of people is terrifying.

So we decided to visit the naturist beach, even if only for an hour. My research had shown that not everyone there takes off (all) their clothes, so there was no real pressure.

We arrived to find a smattering of people, most of them naked.

Before putting our beach mat and towels out, I decided to take off my bikini top and see how it felt. Okay so far.

We set up ‘camp’ and I muttered to TSH “in for a penny, in for a pound” and wriggled out of my bikini bottoms. There. Naked. In public.

He took off his swim shorts and we both sat down and grabbed our books. We were fine. The world didn’t end.

It was baking hot and the best solution was to go for a swim. That meant walking across a couple of metres of pebbled beach.

So, wibbly bits and all, I strode across the pebbles and launched myself into the water.

It was amazing. Freeing. Bobbing around in the Aegean ocean with no clothes on. It might not sound much to some people but it meant the world to me. The throwing off of old ideas about myself, the thought that I couldn’t be naked. The fact that I didn’t care what other people thought and happily enjoyed myself.

I swam a few widths of the bay, the sea crystal clear. My breasts weren’t constricted by swimwear and were surprisingly buoyant. I scissored my legs too, a few times. The difference in sensation between nudity and wearing my bikini was joyous. I loved it.

And then I just hung in the water, the salinity allowing me to float along. The sun was high, the sky bright blue and I had a whale of a time.

I did have to get out of the water and Ursula Andress I’m not. But even then, no-one looked as I wobbled across the pebbles in the surf. They’d all been there.

We spent the entire afternoon on the beach, swimming, drying off in the sun, reading and relaxing. We protected our delicate bits with extra suncream and rotated our positions so as not to get any particular part too toasty. And we enjoyed every single damn second.

Turned out to be our favourite beach, the one we visited every day from that day onwards, until we had to go home.

See who else is taking part in Wicked Wednesday:
Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Liked this Wicked Wednesday post? Please take a moment to support me on Patreon so I can buy myself a Queen Bee from Hot Octopuss (as well as take more sexy photos and write more posts to get you hot under the collar...)

8 thoughts on “Hanging in the Ocean

  1. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful . . . I know EXACTLY what you mean!

    It is so liberating . . . Freeing as you say.

    So glad you enjoyed it . . . and if you are like me, you’ll never want to keep your bikini on again!!!

    Wonderful post !!!

    Xxx – K

  2. It has been years since I have been to a nude beach, but I still remember my very first time in my early twenties, self-conscious and insecure, and how much I enjoyed it then. It definitely is liberating. So happy you had such a good time and good experience!

    Rebel xox

Leave a reply to join the conversation

No spam, no trolls, and please stay respectful of my boundaries. Telling me what you'd like to do to/with me, when we're anonymous to each other in the real world, is a breach of my consent, even if your intentions are well-meant.

oh, and your email address will not be published and required fields are marked *