Why don't we take a plunge? - he says to me. But we haven't got neither swimsuits nor towels with us, I say. He: look what a wonderful evening, the water is so war, it would be a sin to miss this chance. We could swim naked! Well why not, I thought. The weather was really superb, warm and all. And though the moon was shining, the beach was poorly lit as the moon wasn't full. I shook off my slippers, then removed my jeans, undies and took off in the direction of the water. He followed me, but at some distance and to the side.
So there we are, swimming and keeping the proper distance. Having had enough of this we made it to the shore. I was leading again, and he was following me. I looked back to see him and though it was almost pitch dark I thought I caught a glimpse of his natural 'body's reaction', and it may sound ridiculous, but it made me feel happy!
We dressed somehow and continued walking in our wet tees. After that we bathed by nights several more times.
Then he started trying to persuade me to go to the beach during daytime. He would say that we kinda learnt everything we could about nighttime bathing and now it was a new challenge for us to do it during the daytime. I kept on saying no because I was really embarrassed by the idea of undressing in broad daylight, but I really wanted to go. Then I made up my mind to do some 'practicing' during the daytime all by myself to start with. I found a rocky beach with huge rubbles that I could jump from one to another. And so I started jumping. When I moved so far from the shore to be sure that no one sane would follow me here I stopped and got naked. Stark naked. I don't know why, but I was literary shaking then. The sensation of being absolutely nude outdoors was intoxicating, and I tried not to consider the possibility of somebody else's coming to where I was.
I had a book with me, so I found a bigger and more comfortable rubble, lay on it and started reading and having some rest in general. The sun was shining, the waves were lapping against the shore, the coastline was merging into distance, small yachts and motorboats took their lazy ramble over the waves. The atmosphere was calm and relaxing, and little by little I started to feel more comfortable. After a while I felt the need to pee. It was then that I remembered about the article I once read about an experiment carried out on a group of people to whom it was suggested to pee in their pants for a considerable amount of cash. Regardless that the sum was really impressive, no one could bring themselves to do this. Same happened to me: I slid off the rubble, squatted...and just couldn't do it! And I really needed to...After all, I could go a little bit further and do my thing hiding behind the rubbles. But I felt inexplicably stubborn. So I put on my pants, then lowered them and let the conditional reflexes take over. While I squatted there relaxed doing my thing I was looking at the motorboat anchored at some distance. That was when I thought I saw something flashing in the motorboat. In a blink of an eye I drew a picture in my head with somebody armed with a spyglass overlooking my escapade. I felt like I bit off more than I could chew, I collected my things and dressed up in no time, and presently I was gone with my heart still thumping in my ears.
After that I ventured another couple of sorties that were managed with much more calm. In the end I conceded to go to the beach with the young man. It was not half as scary as I had imagined it to be, because the beach was deserted and there was no one but us there. We went there for some more times, and it was only once that we happened to meet some other folks there, but I never experienced such strong emotions again.
My friendship with the young man in question ended up rather sadly, but I guess that's a whole new story.