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Family nudist camp stories

Family Nudist Camp Stories
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This story from Mike has been read 5 2 5 9 0 times. Nude Camping Written by Mikeongenre incest My family are all nudists, as far back as I can remember. We all go camping to a lake each year and all strip off and go around naked. I never new anything different till, I was in my teens.

Name: Kiersten

How old am I: 25
I like: Guy
Body type: My body features is medium-build
What is my favourite drink: I prefer to drink red wine
Body piercings: None

At twelve, my body had just started changing, and the last thing that I wanted to do was take my clothes off for a month at a nudist camp! Off to the left, in the front part of the building, there was a large fireplace with almost a dozen couches to the sides and in front of it.

Erin, on the other hand, constantly wheedled me. Some rooms were bigger, some were smaller, but the contents were generally the same. So she pointed out to me that there would be other boys my age there. Behind all that was a playground for the younger .

There was, however, a door off the shower area that led to a room containing several stalls and toilets. All in all, I guess I looked more like Dad. Most of them had a queen-sized bed and either a twin bed or a set of bunk beds, with a dresser or small chest of drawers for storing personal items. Everyone picked out their own area under the counter and in the refrigerators, and it was mostly on the honor system.

I certainly had to hide my share of painful and unwieldy erections, but I got used to it. In addition, there were many other families with. Keep going until you finish the Christy series.

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The crest of the hill was several hundred yards behind, and about eighty feet above the clubhouse, with a sandy road leading down the gentle slope into the camp proper. At fifteen, that extra half-inch is important! There was a natural—and much larger—feeder lake to the left. Once I got over my initial self-consciousness, I guess I forgot to be embarrassed.

On the far side of the back wall was the kitchen.

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And when you reach the end of this series, start the next one. Then, I Got It! I was so worried about girls my age seeing me that I completely overlooked the fact that if girls my age would be at the camp, then I could see them too. I looked forward to the camp like only a perpetually horny fifteen-year-old could.

Mom, whose name was Beth, had dark blond hair and a well-proportioned, compact body. All told, there were probably a dozen stoves and half as many large sinks, as well as at least eight refrigerators. The kitchen area was fronted by a long counter, with curtained-off storage space underneath it. There were several screen doors into the clubhouse, but I almost always used the side door next to the sandy road.

In earlymy father was hired by a major airline in Atlanta, and my family moved. I sulked, in the self-centered way only a twelve-year-old can, and my parents wisely let me stew about things for a few days.

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That summer, our parents asked Erin and me what we thought about the family going to a nudist camp for our summer Family nudist camp stories. Our parents were fairly open with both of us, and we talked about the trip before we made a final decision. My younger sister got on my nerves often enough, but older girls… Now, older girls had boobs, and pubic hair, and other things that I knew I liked.

Erin was the same way, and her lithe young body was always darker than mine. The sandy track led all the way—several miles—back out to the padlocked chain gate that protected the property. My father had to return to Atlanta a few times, to fly for several days at a time, but Erin and I largely enjoyed ourselves. When you reach the end of this book, pick up the next one and keep going.

Some would stay for a week or two and then leave, some families stayed longer, and still others seemed to spend the entire summer there. I thought back to a summer… a summer many years ago. She was attractive in a Mom-ish sort of way, that is. Happy Birthday to me! Down the hill, the cinder-block motel-type buildings were off to the left, and the clubhouse was on the right. The lake also sported a canvas-covered raft of Styrofoam and wood; being spring-fed, the lake was cold even in the heat of summer. On the back of the bathroom sink wall, there were refrigerators.

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An earthen dam with a concrete spillway let water overflow from the feeder lake into the man-made swimming lake. Despite my original reluctance, I really liked the camp.

Family nudist camp stories

Even though she was not quite thirteen, I could already see that Erin would look a lot like Mom. At thirty-six, I had always thought of my mom as old, but I was slowly realizing that she was a very attractive woman. Where Mom was ash blond with a dark tan, my father was dark-haired and fair. The entire center of the camp was on top of a very large hill more like a ridge. Sensing that I was lost in thought, and knowing she could ask me about it later, my wife quietly shut the door and left me to myself.

A nudist camp meant naked teenaged girls!

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The clubhouse itself was often the center of life for the camp. Insince my family was staying the entire summer, we got one of the stand-alone cabins further back, up the hill Family nudist camp stories the clubhouse. We could get one of the small cabins for the summer, and whenever Dad needed to fly a trip, he could drive into Columbia, and then catch a flight to Atlanta.

My father was a pilot for an air charter company, and my mother was what would now be called a stay-at-home Mom. The summer after I finished sixth grade, we went on a vacation that would change my life forever. The swimming lake even had a brick coping around the entire circumference, complete with wide concrete steps down into the deepest, tree-shaded end. But I was still a little pudgy. My dad, David, was big. My mother and father had always been very open raising my sister, Erin, and me. By then, however, Erin had begun to develop.

Behind the couches and past the game tables—on the other side of the wall next to the bathing area—were all sorts of tables and chairs. There was only one hiccup in our family routine over the next few years. It was everything that my parents had promised; there were all sorts of things to do there, and enough kids my age that I always had someone to do things with.

Mom also tanned easily, and was always a rich bronze color. Each family brought a couple of baskets we used laundry baskets full of food and drinks. A few days later, my mom brought the subject up again, when we were alone in the kitchen. But once you crested the little rise behind the camp, South Carolina pines and sandy soil gave way to one-room cabins and small mobile-home trailers permanently parked on blocks and wired for electricity.

Family trip to a nudist camp

But perhaps not so many, the memories were so fresh and clear. Summer Camp Swingers has always been a serial, published a chapter at a time.

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The experience opened my eyes quite a bit, and set me on the road to a monumental series of events, but in the summer of those events were still in my future. And it did provide me with some wonderful fantasy material for masturbating, whenever I could find the time alone; which was as often as I could, those first couple of weeks. Down the hill from the clubhouse, on the side opposite the road, were shuffleboard courts and a sand volleyball court.

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Where the road bent gently to the left to follow the brow of the hill toward the houses, the ground sloped off to the right more steeply until it leveled out before the large freshwater lake. My mom and dad certainly seemed enthusiastic, and Erin was all in favor of the trip; especially when they started telling her about the camp.

I know it sounds strange, but this was a nudist camp, so there really was no need for privacy in the showers. Toward the back of the building and to the right of the game tables, there was a big bathroom area with a wall of sinks and an open shower area. We thought it was a great idea, and decided to leave the day after school ended, Family nudist camp stories coincided with my fifteenth birthday. Past the game tables and the wall holding the sinks and containing the bathing area, the bulk of the clubhouse unfolded. Looking up at her, I drew myself back to the present, shaking my head again to clear my thoughts.

At six feet tall, he towered over me. I was worried about people—especially any girls my age—seeing my awkward body, and making me feel embarrassed. When we got to the camp, things started out mostly the same. Behind the counter, on the back wall, there was a row of stoves, followed by several sinks, each separated by about a foot of counter. My eyes were drawn back to the notepad and my hastily scrawled note. She had smallish breasts and a downy tuft of pubic hair, but she was still boyishly slim.

So I gloomily agreed. While the lake was spring-fed, it was actually man-made. Inside the cool confines of the large building, there were a few ping-pong tables, an old pool-hall-style pool table with the coin slots removed, and an air-hockey table that always seemed to need repairing.

I certainly got my fill of looking at tanned and naked teenage girls. Nonetheless, I think she sensed that that was the problem.

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My story really begins when I was twelve and my family lived in Savannah, Georgia. And of course, as I write this, older than that age myself, I realize how very young thirty-six actually is. In addition, she had an hourglass figure with a neat patch of darker pubic hair covering her sex. They told us about the big spring-fed lake, the playground, the games, the sports, and all the other fun things to do there.

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