because I’ve had nudist experience over my entire life that did not really seem like nudist encounters.
At about 8, my dad, uncle and myself spent a weekend at a “fishing hole’ – no cabin, but a mobile home out in the woods. On the 2nd day of heat and zero fish catching, we went for a swim to my surprise, in the nude. It was great, it was exhilarating and it made my father and uncle seem so ‘crazy and cool’. That occurred a few times over a couple of years.
My dad passed away when I was 12. That following summer, my mom let me spend about two months with my uncle, aunt, cousins to sort of let me regroup as she was dealing with lots of the wake. My uncle/aunt weren’t nudists, nor even clothing optional – only relaxed. They had a pool and skinny dipping was the norm (two cousins, boy and girl younger than me). Many times we would roam in the house still bare, which after all my encounters outside, seemed just exhilarating.
My mom and I moved to a home in http://nuderoad.com crowded suburb two years later, but it had a privacy fence and nice small in-ground pool. I would get home from school about two hours before she came home from work. Naturally, I skinny-dipped continuously, and once autumn and winter arrived, would go bare a few hours each day in. 
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Check itThe subsequent summer when we opened the pool, I was always permitted to have http://x-nudism.com over, and two of my closest friends (male) started skinny dipping. There was always an extra sense of independence when going naked with others.
I eventually began to boldly swim in the early morning, to begin the day the best possible means, knowing my mother was still in the home. It was not so much that I was being more daring, more that I was just more comfy, and needed not to be ‘slipping’ about in the nude. She saw me skinny dipping several times, as the kitchen window looked right outside to the pool and backyard. At first, I was naturally nervous, but she never made a big issue of it, asking me that first time had I outgrown my swimming trunks as I ‘d come in wrapped just in a towel. One day after school was out, I came home from summer league softball and she was outside by the pool. I simply thought ‘what the heck’ and went out with my towel and jumped in. It was a nonevent, because after I left the pool and sat across from her, we began talking about my father, and her telling me how he loved going nude. It could have been the first, really actual dialogue about my dad we had since he died.
The next morning, I stopped at the kitchen and asked if she needed to join me for a swim. She said she would be outside later and she did. After what was bluntly a lot of nervous energy diving and swimming in the pool, everything was just tranquil and completely open. We spent about four hours talking about my father, our family, friends, then pictures, music and things I would never think to only ‘chat’ about with my mother. It was sort of an overcast day, along with a drizzle put a stop to the time that had flew by to our shock. I said I hated we needed to go in, and she merely picked up my towel with her things and went inside. We spent the rest of the day inside in a brand new routine of liberation.
Once I got my driver’s license, and her work became more demanding, we seldom spent time together, and even when we did, it was sadly inconvenient to relax in the nude it looked, so it sort of just quit other than rare times or early in the morning routine.
So, there are three instants in time for me, and I really don’t even consider them my first encounter. That would be at college, my fourth weekend in school, but that’s another story and I’ve all ready defined the idea of ‘long winded’.