Bare Oaks

I spent the afternoon naked in public and there was nothing weird about it

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“Hi, I have an interview at 3.”
“All right.”
“I suppose I should get naked?”
“That would be appreciated.”

The young woman I was talking to was named Nikki, the manager of Bare Oaks Family Naturist Park.

I stripped down and came out of the washroom naked apart from my backpack, which I used to carry my notebooks and recording equipment. Of course, this was mildly awkward at first—her giving me a full frontal behind the counter, middle-aged men waddling passed me with their guts over their crotch, young people walking around dripping wet, and me, just standing there, dick swinging in the breeze.

I spent the afternoon naked in public

The funny thing was, after about 10 seconds, the shame of being naked completely disappeared. It didn’t take long before I was outside with a widened stance, fists on hips, soaking in the shear child-like joy of public nudity.

The park was tucked away in the back roads of East Gwillimbury, not 20 minutes from where I lived, though I had neglected to check it out until now.

Stephane, the man I came here to meet, walked up the driveway towards me. It dawned on me that I had forgotten to apply sunscreen to a few sensitive areas. I wondered if it would show poor manners to do so then. Stephane is the owner of Bare Oaks—a well-spoken Quebecois with an impressive mustache that curls off the sides of his face.

Continued…Read full original article…

Source: Plaid Zebra

Original publication 12 August, 2014

Posted on NatCorn 7th February 2020

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