One summer before Covid, my wife Gemma and I rented a beautiful farmhouse for a weeks holiday. It came with a hot tub, but more importantly, it was close to the sea. I have not given the location for reasons that will become obvious.
Despite it being June, before all the kids broke up for their school summer holidays, the weather wasn't great. It was in the late teens Celsius with thick clouds roaming the skies. If it wasn't raining it was constantly threatening to.
Undeterred from enjoying ourselves, we settled in and immediately took advantage of the hot tub. The farmhouse was stunning, and it catered for all our humble needs. But it wasn't as stunning as watching my wife slipping into a bikini. Even better when we were in the hot tub and she took it off again.
The first few days of holiday we fucked like rabbits in the hot tub, ate in the local pubs, cafes and restaurants, and took in some of the beautiful sites and local attractions.
We had arrived on a Friday, by Wednesday the sun started to show it still existed, but the temperature only crept into the low twenties. Frustrated we hadn't yet visited the beaches, my wife insisted we go out for lunch and then walk along one of them.
If the weather on the beach was warm enough, we said we'd stop for a couple of hours in the sun. If not, then we'd just explore the beach with a nice, casual, long walk.
Gemma wore a two-piece bikini underneath her summer dress, and packed a few things like beach towels, sun lotion etc into a bag. I just wore a pair of shorts and a polo shirt, with sunglasses and a baseball cap.
There were so many beaches to choose from, we literally picked one out on the map and headed in that direction. Close to the road which lead to the beach, we stopped off at a village pub for some lunch. A part from a few locals having a lunch time pint, everywhere was reasonably quiet.
After lunch, we left the car parked in the village and took a scenic stroll downhill towards the beach. We approached a causeway and crossed a marsh, beginning to think we'd gone wrong somewhere, before heading to the dunes in the distance in front of us.
There was no distinct, worn, beaten track or path to follow, so we just looked around for signs of life. No path, no signs of life, we carried on walking in a southernly direction of the beach, away from the dunes. The views were captivating.
On the horizon we started to see signs of life. A few people on the beach and a few surfers out in the bay. Holding hands, enjoying the freedom, my wife and I continued on our trek.
Then suddenly, we approached a sign in the sand. It had clearly been put there professionally, and it was designed to remain there indefinitely.
"Am I reading that right?" Gemma laughed.
"Is that sign meant to be a joke?" I chuckled, before my wife read it out loud.
"Naturists please dress before passing this point." Gemma looked confused and then turned back around to look at the direction we just came from. "Did we just walk through a nudist beach?"
"Not that I noticed," I chuckled again. "Maybe it's a seasonal nudist beach. You know, like parking zones. You have strict times you're allowed to park without getting booked."
"Yes, Tim, I know how parking zones work," Gemma smiled. "What does it say on the other side of the sign?" We walked towards the sign curiously to check if anything was written on the other side of it.
"Naturists may be seen beyond this point." I read the sign this time. "What the fuck is this place!" We laughed, finding the sign and situation hilarious.
"I didn't know we had nudist beaches in the UK! Did you?" my wife asked.
"We have a few, but I've never looked into where they are. I can't believe we just obliviously walked through one."
"Do you think we walked straight past a warning sign coming from that direction?" Gemma wondered.
"Not that I noticed. It doesn't matter anyway, there's nobody about," I replied.
Gemma looked extremely curious, glancing in the direction we were headed and back in the direction we travelled from. "Do you fancy a nose?" she giggled.
"What? Walk back? There was nobody there." I laughed at my wife.
"Maybe they hid when they saw two clothed people coming on their beach," Gemma suggested.
"Don't be so ridiculous. Nobody is hiding from us. It's hardly the weather to be sunbathing naked, is it?"
"It's not exactly cold, Tim. I fancy taking a look."
"Take a look at what, Gem? There's nobody on the beach," I moaned, pointing my arms out at the vast empty sand and dunes on the horizon. I didn't want to particularly retrace our empty steps either.
"Maybe we're just the first ones to use the beach today," she giggled. I laughed my head off. "I'm being serious, Tim."
"I bloody know you are, woman!"
"I don't mean get naked! Christ! I just want to take a look. Satisfy my curiosity."
"And if we don't find or see anything?"
"Then we'll just set up somewhere and enjoy an empty beach. I'll be able to go topless then," Gemma giggled. "I've only been topless abroad."
My wife has always been confident in her own skin. Abroad, she's never had any qualms about getting her big tits out on the beach, but naturism was never something we ever discussed. It wasn't something that appealed to me either.
Of course there's elements I find fascinating, like watching guys checking out my naked wife, while I check out the other naked women. Plus the sight of my naked wife checking out all the other naked men. So, all the nakedness then.
However, my very limited knowledge and understanding of naturism was that it was more of a respectful way of being liberal with like minded people. It wasn't sexual. I had heard and read about there being places around the world, where some beaches actually allowed sex to take place. Like a swingers beach or something.
"Come on then, let's go for a wander, or a nose as you put it. Just don't expect me to suddenly turn into a naturist!"
Gemma laughed and grabbed my hand, we then walked along the beach, past the dunes and around the point. The tide was a long way out. We literally had the whole beach to ourselves.
"There's nobody here but us, Gem. So let's just enjoy it and park our arses here," I suggested, an hour after finding that sign.
"Yeah, I agree. It's stunning here. I love it."
Finally settling down on our towels, we put some sun lotion on and my wife stripped down to her bikini. Watching her remove her summer dress, to reveal her voluptuous body, quickly had me aroused.
"What are you looking at?" she giggled, dropping her dress down on her towel.
"A very sexy woman with a great body!" I grinned.
My wife was wearing a turquoise, halter neck bikini. It had a ring detail holding it together in the centre, just below her bust. The bottoms had a tie at the side. I loved pulling on them things when Gemma was straddling me in a hot tub or holiday hotel room.
At the back, the top had three straps. The halter neck tie around her neck. The usual clasp in the centre of her back, and another string tie below that. It was a sexy bikini, designed for fuller bust ladies.
"Let's go for a dip in the sea," she said.
"It's miles out!" I complained.
