My Nudist Life

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

My Pet Peeve: Unsupervised kids at nudist resorts

Every Monday night, Jay Leno has a great feature called headlines.
In the middle of it, Leno will strike an upset pose and turn to bandleader Kevin Eubanks.
"Kevin, what is my biggest pet peeve?" Leno will ask.
"Stupid criminals," Eubanks will obediently reply.
Then Leno will read one or two or three incredibly dumb things criminals will do during the commission of their crimes.
As if the decision to commit the crime wasn't stupid enough.
Entertaining, funny stuff.
My nudist pet peeve is neither entertaining or funny but a pet peeve nonetheless.
Simply, unsupervised kids at nudist resorts.
More specifically, unsupervised kids at nudist resorts that cater primarily to an adult crowd.
Our nudist resort is similar to Paradise Lakes in Florida in that you see almost no kids here.
That was until this year when a family I will heretofore refer to as the "Adams' Family" moved in, lock stock and barrel with a pair of kids _ an 8-year-old boy and a 6-year-old girl.
Now this normally wouldn't be a problem if they kept the kids in tow. Meaning, if they kept the kids within eyesight at all times.
These parents seem to be as oblivious to that responsibility as they apparently were to the fact that there were NO OTHER kids in this nudist resort before they made the commitment to become seasonal residents.
That should have been Red Flag No. 1.
No other kids to play with is a major problem and they should not have injected their kids into that kind of an environment. Adults here don't want to deal with kids. They come here to get away from kids.
However, IF you are going to bring them you better damn well follow them around at all times.
La dee freaking da, the Adams Family permits their kids to go on unsupervised jaunts throughout the nudist camp. Even though there is a big sign in the office that says "Children are the responsibility of their parents."
Hellllllllllloooooooooooo?????
What is the Adams' Family thinking?
The fact that there was a 150-pound bear roaming through this camp no more than 10 years ago is one story. The fact that these kids could have easily wandered off into the woods is another one entirely.
Earlier this year, we had a single man who brought two kids "lose" them.
The guy went through the camp on a three-wheeler, obviously in distress, yelling, "Pete ... Sharon ... Pete .... Sharon" over and over again.
I just shook my head.
"If you were doing what you were supposed to and keeping these kids within eyesight, you wouldn't be in this position," I said to myself at the time.
(To myself, because I didn't want him to punch me in the teeth.)
There are all sorts of legal issues here I don't even want to get into, but unsupervised jaunts is where I draw the line. I never complain about anything here, but I made an exception in this case.
When I saw the two Adams' Family kids walking around, I stopped what I was doing and made a trek to the office.
"How seriously does management take this sign?" I asked the girl in the office, pointing to the children are the responsibility of the parents sign.
"Very seriously," she said.
"Well, we have two unsupervised kids walking around," I said.
"I'll say something to the owner," she said.
The next day the two kids were in tow of the mother.
Two days later, I saw one of the same two kids walking up the road.
Alone.
I was peeved.
Again.

Sunday, July 31, 2005

The Single Man Issue: I'm against them

At almost all nudist camps or resorts I've been to, there have been a couple of unassailable and definitely unrelated truths I've found:
1) No matter how "asexual" the nudist establishment tries to portray it, there is a strong undercurrent of sexuality everywhere. I'm talking about a good, healthy, exciting sexual tension _ much like good cholesterol vs. bad cholesterol. The kind of sexual electricity than can power a resort. It's stronger at some resorts/camps than at others. Let's put it this way: On a scale of 1-10, the sexual electricity level at Paradise Lakes and Hedonism II is about a 9-10. At Beechwood Lodge in the Poconos of Pennsylvania, it's about a 2. Everywhere else I've been to is in the upper half of the scale.
2) Single men are more of a problem than they are a resource.
It pains me to say this, because I'm a single guy.
But based on the observations of 20 years as a nudist, 99 44/100 percent of all of the "strange" behavior comes from single guys.
Let me give you just one story of the hundreds of similar ones I've observed:
In our club, we have a whirlpool with an observation window. More than once and with more than one guy, I've seen this:
Guy looks in the window. If there are only guys there, he walks away.
Five minutes later, guy comes back, looks in the window again. Only guys there. Walks away again.
Ten minutes later, the same guy looks in the window again. There is now a young couple there. So he opens the door and walks in.
This same thing has happened with hundreds of single guys over the years.
Often, the guy will not even check the window. He'll walk in. If all guys are there, he'll walk out without saying a word. Five minutes later, when an escorted female arrives, he'll check the scene out and hop in the whirlpool.
Usually the strangest "single male" behavior happens on our biggest weekend: Fourth of July.
Invariably, on the Fourth of July weekend, we have an unusually high number of transient single males. Transient single males are those single males you usually see once or twice a year, not even members of the club.
We have 21 weekends a year and usually no one looks in anyone's window.
Except on the Fourth of July weekend.
My site is off the road and it's hard to look into my window without making a special effort to do so.
Yet every Fourth of July weekend I have one or two (or three or four) transient single males walking by and often peering through my window.
I have yet to have a hot, young and naked 21-year-old single woman walk by and peer through my window, but I will let you know when that happens (probably in my next lifetime).
That same night, a friend of mine who I will call Linda left the outdoor nightclub early. She was followed to her trailer by _ you guessed it _ a single male.
She turned around to confront him just outside her trailer, knowing that her husband was inside.
"Excuse me, why are you following me?" she said.
"I just wanted to see if you were all right," he said.
"Please just leave," she said.
Then there is the phenomenon of the black guy. We never get black women in our resort, just black guys.
Why is this?
Your guess is as good as mine.
Many of these guys are decent-looking and presumably can attract a woman to the club, but for some reason or another they don't.
There are way too many guys and too few girls as it is and we don't need any more, white or black or pink or green.
Yet we never seem to run out of them.
The solution is that nudist clubs must do a better job of "gender-balancing."
Make it free for single women and make single men pay more than couples.
Eliminate the "transient single male" entirely. Make the single male become a full-fledged member with all of the responsibilities that come with membership.
Nudist clubs must see the "big picture" and start thinking about creative ways to gender-balance or they will die.
Just accepting every single guy who walks in the door because he has 40 bucks is penny-wise and pound-foolish.

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Nudist resort, camp or colony?

I know the "politically correct" thing to say is "nudist resort" but, as I look out my window today, really the best word to describe this beautiful place is camp.
As much as the management of these rustic places market the word resort and beg you to us it, people camp here.
When I think of the word resort, I think of places like the Arizona Biltmore Hotel or even nudist resorts in Florida like Caliente and Paradise Lakes.
The Arizona Biltmore is hands-down the best place from a physical plant standpoint I've ever visited. It holds a special place in my heart since it was there 10 years ago that I accepted the top writing award in the country for best feature story in my "real world" job. My newspaper company picked up the major coin for my weekend stay there, including the fully-stocked bar in my room. I almost passed out when I opened the refrigerator door. I never even had a "fridge" in my rooms before, mostly at Motel 6s and Howard Johnson's (but I did a maid at HoJos, see story below).
I don't think of traditional Northeastern nudist places like Penn Sylvan in the Reading area or Goodland Country Club in New Jersey or even the one I live in now for the next month or so, which is the best of that genre, as "resorts."
Hell, using the word resort for places like these is a real stretch. On the other end of the spectrum is the word colony.
When I was growing up, the term "colony" was a popular one when referring to nudists, like ant colony or Pilgrim colony. Or even a cult colony, like those who followed people like Jim Jones and David Korech to their deaths.
Colony is a four-letter word to nudists. I don't know anyone who has ever liked the term.
I haven't heard that in a long, long time, though.
We once had a fire in a trailer here about 15 years ago. The local daily paper had photo of the firemen putting out the flames with a huge headline at the top of the front page: Fire Destroys Trailer in Nudist Colony.
Ugh.
We got a few yucks out of that one here for several days after that.
It still elicits a smile 15 years later.
But when it comes to the traditional Northeast, Mid-Atlantic or New England areas, the word resort doesn't quite fit those kind of nudist places.
Camp works just fine.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Afternoon delight with brown sugar on top

I never usually get a chance to do black girls.
Not because I don't want to, or am not attracted by them.
I'm attracted by a particular kind of black girl, slender with a cute face.
Never really had that opportunity because I'm not exposed to black girls where I work or at my nudist camp.
That was true until one day in Rocky Mount, N.C., halfway between Pennsylvania and the nudist resort in Florida I was traveling to at that time.
I was about 28 or 29.
I checked into a Howard Johnson's Motel about 2 p.m., got the key to my room and then quickly undressed, got a shower and was ready for a few hours of shut eye before continuing on to Florida.
As I was drying my hair, naked and incredibly horny, I heard a soft knock on the door.
"Housekeeping" I heard a woman's voice say.
I took my towel to the door, covered up and looked through the peephole.
There stood a beautiful black girl, not more than five years younger than I but much taller.
She looked a lot like the black girl they were working into the cast of the last season of Friends, Aisha Tyler.
I heard another soft knock.
"Housekeeping," she said, this time only slightly louder.
I thought, "What the hey?"
I dropped the towel and opened it on a crack.
"Hello," I said, with an inviting smile.
She smiled back.
"Do you need service, sir?" she asked, taking a peak at my throbbing member, then looking directly into my eyes with another smile, then back at my member again, this time more throbbing and more excited.
With my heart beating 100 miles a minute, I opened the door a little wider.
Mike Jr. was now saluting her like she was a five-star General.
Mike Jr. was inviting her in, but Mike Sr. was speechless.
I didn't know what to say.
"Well, what services are you offering?" I sputtered.
"Anything you need," she said, looking down and smiling again.
I then took a bold move, pushed by Mike Jr.
"If you don't mind what I'm not wearing, you are more than welcome to come in," I said.
"All right, sir," she said.
"Only if you don't call me, sir," I said. "Hi, I'm Mike."
"Hi, I'm Janelle," she said, now taking her first step inside the room. "I'd rather like what you're wearing. You mind if I touch it?"
"I'd love you to touch it."
She gently stroked it while wearing her maid outfit. Powder blue with white trim.
I was soon to become her white trim.
"Baby, this is HARD," she said, then looking at my grateful eyes. "Oh sweetie, you are sooooo cute."
I moaned.
"You mind if I suck this mother-fucker, hon?" she said.
"Mind? I'm already in Heaven. Do whatever you want."
She then discarded the Maid outfit, her panties and everything else. In five seconds, she was completely naked, and then continued to suck my dick.
I gestured her to get on the bed. She sucked some more.
I reached down to put my fingers in her pussy.
It was soaked.
I then repositioned myself. We were both doing 69.
Her moans were muted, but audible. Then were cheering me on.
I got my first look at black pussy.
To my surprise, the clit was a darker color, too.
I licked some more and stopped, only to catch my breath.
I could not believe this was happening.
"Why you stoppin'?" she said. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
I could have been wrong, but it seemed like it was the first time she's ever been eaten.
"There," she said, as I moved my tongue ever closer to her egorged clit. "Right there. Right there. Right there. ..."
She said "right there" over and over, like someone would say, "Oh my God."
Right there.
She was the best cheerleader a guy on the pussy-eating field could ever have had.
"Right there, baby!! Right there. Oh yeah. Right there. Put a finger in there, too. Oh yeah. Fuck me, baby. Fuck me."
I felt compelled to obey her wishes.
My face was so wet I thought I was going to drown. I wiped it off while I fucked her from behind. I was sweating like a pig afterward.
What a workout for both of us. It certainly beats the stairmaster any day of the week.
"Do you need a towel, honey?" she said.
"That's what you came in for in the first place, right?" I said.
"Something like that," she said, laughing, collapsing on the bed.
Afternoon delight in Rocky Mount, N.C., with brown sugar on top.

Author's disclaimer: If there are any 17-year-old black kids with red hair walking around Rocky Mount, N.C. wondering who their daddy is, the answer is no, I will not go on Maury Povich to do the DNA test.

Monday, June 27, 2005

I have the world's smallest (porn collection)

Other than Billy Graham or the new Pope, I think I might have the world's smallest porn collection.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not a prude. When Blue Ridge Cable included the Spice Channel as part of its monthly package (something like 11 bucks), I got Spice before HBO.
I had it on all the time. In fact, I had it on accidentally when my hot 36-year-old housekeeper, Nancy, came in a few minutes before her scheduled appointment.
"Sorry, I meant to turn this off," I said.
"I LOVE porn," she said.
So I left it on for her. (She spent a lot of time dusting the TV and the VCR that day. I didn't mind.)
Then they made it hard (to get porn, I mean). When I went over to Digital (cable, that is), they said I couldn't pay $11 a month and get it on all the time anymore, I'd have to pay $10.95 each time.
After doing the math, I thought, "screw this." (No pun intended.)
So for the last three years, I've pretty much gone cold turkey from porn. I'm sure Nancy, who is now 39 and living in California, has seen more porn than I have since that day three years ago.
I don't love porn like Nancy did, I like it, but I'm not going to pay for it and I'm not going to walk into a video store and I'm not going to waste my time licking a stamp and ordering it.
So I'm down to one old VHS tape.
It's The World's Luckiest Jock, subtitled 101 Cheerleaders and a Quarterback, starring Erik Everhard (I doubt that's his real name, LOL) and literally 101 girls.
The plot line is a star quarterback comes in from a winning football game and is serviced by 101 cheerleaders in the locker room. There are a couple of leaps of faith the director asks the audience to take, besides the fact that there are 101 female cheerleaders in the male locker room. One, there are no other guys in the locker room and, two, no school ever has 101 cheerleaders.
However, there is press there. The first line of the film shows the, err, head cheerleader unzipping his pads and saying to the guys with the pens and tape recorders, "I don't think the press wants to see this."
Pretty soon the QB is naked and there's a line of 101 girls sitting with their cheerleader outfits on benches waiting to, err, service his manhood.
They all do and then they take turns making, err, love to him. It's all done in two hours, but I'm sure it took several days or weeks to film (LOL).
They are all so incredibly beautiful but what makes the movie to me is the smiles and the sheer looks of joy on their faces. It wasn't acting. These girls were really into it. As far as porn films go, it's Citizen Kane, The Wizard of Oz and Gone With the Wind all rolled into one incredibly erotic piece of art.
It makes me wonder why I was quarterback at an all-boys Catholic High School.
In my next life, I'm going to correct these little mis-steps.
Damn.

Monday, May 30, 2005

At a nudist camp, the frisky woman is Queen

In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is King.
A very wise man once said that.
In the land of nudist camps, resorts and places, the frisky _ even aggressive _ woman is Queen.
At least she is to me.
I often think about some of my best times on the dance floor and, invariably, they turn to the actions of aggressive women.
Aggressive women rule. I don't know if aggressive is even the precise word, but maybe fun and playful are two better choices. Or frisky. I love the kind of female personalities you can find on, say, clothed females naked males.com.
I am incredibly attracted to a woman who will take me on the dance floor and do whatever she pleases, when she pleases, without even asking.
Especially when I'm naked.
I would put my friend, Karen, in that category.
She thinks nothing of taking my naked and willing body and shoving it against the mirror of our nudist resort.
And I love every minute of it.
When it comes (or cums) to cunnilingus, my favorite aggressive woman story is the one below where I describe our encounter on the dance floor with Denise.
She began to kiss me and I her and then she started to stroke my love tool.
Stroking my love tool is always a good thing.
I ended up eating her pussy that night in a tanning booth at the winter nudist party.
It's a delicious memory in more ways than one.
Then there's Adrienne from North Carolina.
The first time I asked her to dance, the inevitable happened after only a couple aggressive thrusts of her pelvis against mine. She cleverly positioned the slit on her red panties against the tip of my penis.
Mike Jr. _ or little Mikey _ came out (and up) to say hi.
"It looks like little Mikey likes you," I said during the slow dance.
She looked down at my rock-hard member and said without skipping a beat in an adorable Southern accent, "Wow. He's not so little!!!!"
That turned me on incredibly. A great compliment that followed an admiring stare.
"It turns me on so much when you look at it," I said.
And it does.
I will always have a soft spot for aggressive women but that soft spot will never be "down there."

Monday, April 25, 2005

Why I love Meredith Vieira (and The View)


Guys aren't supposed to love The View. It's a chick show, the way some movies are chick flicks. Yet there are horny, sane, heterosexual guys out there who love the show. Count me among them. I must admit here and now that I LOVE The View and especially Meredith Vieira.
Not only is Meredith beautiful and smart, she's horny as hell. There's nothing to be ashamed about being horny. As a guy, I know the feeling all too well.
One morning I almost choked on my slim fast instant breakfast bar when Meredith opened the show with, "I'm so horny I was thinking about doing it with every guy I saw on the street on the way in today. I'm not kidding. I'm serious. Do you ever get that way?"
Most of the other co-hosts agreed and another spirited hot topics day started. I wish the whole show was hot topics.
I don't know about the mostly women audience, but I know this particular guy loves all of those beautiful qualities Meredith Vieira possesses, both inside of her and out.
She and her co-hosts give you a lot of insight to the way women, in general, think. The show makes me thankful I work nights. I haven't missed a one, making it part of my routine before heading out to the gym.
Heading out to the gym requires putting clothes on, something particularly vexing to this single guy who has never felt the need to wear clothes while walking around my own place during the winter time. It's even better in the summer, since I live in a nudist resort those three months.
So that leads me the No. 1 reason for Hotter-Than-Hell Meredith's appeal to me: At last count, in the eight years The View has been on the air, she brought up the topic of nudity and nudism 37 times on the show.
And she's always so positive about it. I get the feeling she thinks it's cool.
And, of course, it is.
The other "girls" on the show give Meredith and her nude topic lip service and move on to talk about something else, but you could see by the look on Meredith's face that she wanted the segment on her nude topic of the day to "keep rolling" as they say in the business.
God bless Meredith Vieira. She does more than her share to keep those hot topics almost as hot as she is.