Weekend at Bare Necessities
When Two Idiots Thought They Found Paradise.
The Planning Stage: Three Weeks Earlier
Mike and Dave were three beers deep at O'Malley's when Dave pulled out his phone with the grin of a man who'd just discovered fire.
"Dude," Dave said, leaning in like he was about to share state secrets. "I found it. The ultimate guy's weekend."
Mike raised an eyebrow. "Strip club road trip?"
"Better." Dave turned his phone around. On the screen was a website for Camp Bare Necessities. "Nudist resort."
Mike blinked. Then blinked again. Then a slow, stupid smile spread across his face. "Wait. NAKED women? Just walking around? LEGALLY?"
"Legally," Dave confirmed, nodding like a sage. "It's like, a whole lifestyle thing. Body positivity or whatever. But dude, think about it. Hot chicks. Everywhere. No clothes."
"This is genius." Mike grabbed Dave's phone, scrolling through the website photos that were strategically cropped and mostly featured scenic lake views. "Why didn't we think of this before?"
"Because we're idiots."
"Fair."
They clinked their beers together, already mentally high-fiving their future selves.
"Only one problem," Mike said after a moment. "How do we get Sarah and Lisa to agree to this?"
Dave thought hard, which for Dave meant staring at the ceiling for thirty seconds. "We tell them it's about acceptance. Body positivity. All that stuff they're always talking about."
"Brilliant."
"They'll think we're being supportive husbands."
"We're geniuses."
"We really are."
They were not.
Two weeks later, after a sales pitch that involved phrases like "embracing our authentic selves" and "breaking down societal shame," Sarah and Lisa agreed to go. Mike and Dave congratulated themselves on their flawless execution.
Sarah and Lisa, sitting in Sarah's kitchen after their husbands left, looked at each other and started laughing.
"They think we don't know," Sarah said.
"They think they're so sneaky," Lisa added, shaking her head.
"How long do you think it takes before reality hits them?"
"I give it an hour."
"I'll take the under. Thirty minutes."
They clinked their wine glasses. This was going to be entertaining.
Day One: Reality is a Cruel Mistress
The drive to Camp Bare Necessities took three hours. Mike and Dave spent the entire time hyping themselves up like boxers before a fight.
"This is it, man," Dave said from the driver's seat. "This is the weekend we've been waiting for our whole lives."
"I brought my good sunglasses," Mike said, adjusting them on his face. "The polarized ones."
"Smart. Eye protection."
"Safety first."
Sarah, sitting in the back seat of Dave's SUV, exchanged a look with Lisa that could only be described as "deeply amused pity."
When they pulled into the parking lot, Mike practically leapt out of the car. The air smelled like pine trees and possibility. Birds chirped. The sun shone. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear splashing and laughter.
"Gentlemen," Dave said, clapping Mike on the shoulder, "let's do this."
They walked toward the main office with the confidence of men about to enter paradise.
The first person they saw was Gerald.
Gerald was seventy-three years old, deeply tanned in uneven patches, and playing shuffleboard with the focused intensity of a chess grandmaster. He was also completely, undeniably, aggressively naked.
Mike stopped walking.
Dave stopped walking.
Gerald sank his puck into the scoring zone, pumped his fist in victory, and his entire body jiggled in ways that defied physics.
"Oh god," Mike whispered.
"That's a lot of Gerald," Dave whispered back.
"Why is there so MUCH of him?"
"I don't know, man. I don't know."
Sarah walked past them, rolling her suitcase. "Having fun already, boys?"
Lisa followed, not even trying to hide her grin. "Everything you hoped for?"
By the time they checked in and got the official Camp Bare Necessities orientation, which involved a cheerful woman named Brenda explaining towel etiquette while maintaining aggressive eye contact, Mike and Dave were starting to understand they had made a terrible miscalculation.
"Always sit on a towel," Brenda said with the authority of a drill sergeant. "For hygiene purposes. No exceptions."
"Got it," Mike said weakly.
"Erections happen," Brenda continued, as if she were discussing the weather. "If you get one, cover it with a towel, go for a swim, or think about your taxes. Do NOT make it anyone else's problem."
Dave nodded so fast his neck hurt.
"Any questions?"
"Can we leave?" Mike asked.
Brenda laughed. "You'll be fine. First-timers always panic. Give it an hour. You'll forget you're even naked."
They did not forget.
Day One, Continued: The Great Unveiling (Or, The Moment Everything Went Wrong)
Their cabins were side by side, small wooden structures with screen doors and the faint smell of cedar. Mike and Dave stood in Mike's cabin, staring at each other, still fully clothed.
"So," Mike said. "We just… take it all off?"
"I guess."
"All of it?"
"That's the idea."
A long silence.
"I didn't think this through," Dave admitted.
"Me neither."
"I thought there'd be more hot women and less… Gerald."
"There's so much Gerald, Dave. So much."
Another silence.
Then Sarah called from outside. "Are you two getting changed or are you going to stand in there fully clothed like cowards all weekend?"
Mike sighed. "Okay. On three?"
"On three."
They counted. They stripped. They stood there in all their pale, slightly soft, construction-worker-and-middle-management glory.
"Your tan line is insane," Dave said, staring at Mike's ghostly torso.
"Yours is worse. You look like a reverse Oreo."
"That's hurtful."
"It's accurate."
They wrapped towels around their waists and stepped outside like condemned men walking to the gallows.
Sarah and Lisa were already at the picnic table between the cabins, drinking iced tea, completely naked, and looking annoyingly comfortable.
"Took you long enough," Sarah said.
Mike sat down gingerly, hyper-aware of every breeze, every sound, every molecule of air touching his skin. "This is fine. Totally fine."
"You're sweating," Lisa observed.
"It's hot out."
"It's sixty-five degrees."
Breakfast was served at the main lodge, a large open-air pavilion where campers gathered like it was the most normal thing in the world to eat scrambled eggs with their entire asses out.
Mike and Dave sat at a corner table, eyes fixed firmly on their plates.
"Don't look up," Mike muttered.
"I'm not looking up."
"There's a guy buttering toast at ten o'clock. His whole situation is just… out there."
"I SAID I'M NOT LOOKING UP."
An elderly couple walked past, holding hands, chatting about grandchildren. Naked as the day they were born. Not a care in the world.
"This is hell," Dave whispered.
"Agreed."
Sarah leaned over. "You two doing okay?"
"Great," Mike said through clenched teeth. "Living the dream."
"Mmhmm." Sarah took a bite of bacon, completely unbothered. "Weird how there aren't as many 'hot chicks' as you thought there'd be, huh?"
Mike's fork froze halfway to his mouth.
Lisa grinned. "Almost like this isn't actually a sexual thing and you two are just idiots."
Dave looked at Mike. Mike looked at Dave.
"They knew," Dave said.
"They absolutely knew."
"We're the worst."
"The actual worst."
By midday, they'd made it to the pool. Mike and Dave sat on the edge, feet dangling in the water, while Sarah and Lisa did laps like they'd been nudists their whole lives.
"How are they so comfortable?" Mike asked, genuinely baffled.
"I don't know, man. It's like they're different people."
"Sarah's laughing. When's the last time you saw Sarah laugh like that?"
Dave thought about it. "I don't know. Maybe our wedding?"
"That's depressing."
"Yeah."
A volleyball game started up nearby. Naked people diving, spiking, cheering. Not a single person seemed remotely self-conscious.
"I thought I'd feel more… free," Mike admitted quietly.
"Me too."
"Instead I just feel like everyone can see my pancake ass."
"Dude, I can see your pancake ass."
"I know. That's the problem."
They sat in silence, watching their wives enjoy themselves, realizing slowly and painfully that they had fundamentally misunderstood what this weekend was about.
"We're not good people," Dave said finally.
"Nope."
"We came here to ogle women."
"Yep."
"And instead we're just… sitting here. With our dicks out. Uncomfortable."
"That's the whole situation."
"Think we learned a lesson?"
Mike considered this. "Probably not."
"Yeah. Probably not."
Day Two: The Arrival of Candy and Brad (Or, The Universe's Sense of Humor)
Saturday morning brought new arrivals.
Mike and Dave were sitting at breakfast, having survived one full day of nudity and feeling almost, ALMOST, like they were getting the hang of it, when the main gate opened and in walked the exact couple they'd been fantasizing about when they booked this trip.
Candy was late twenties, all blonde hair and enthusiasm, with the kind of effortless confidence that made everyone turn and look. Brad was tall, absurdly fit, with the chiseled jaw of a man who'd never known self-doubt.
They walked in holding hands, looked around at the camp, and Candy squealed, "Oh my god, babe, everyone's NAKED!"
Brad's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "This is WILD!"
Mike elbowed Dave so hard he choked on his orange juice.
"Dude," Mike hissed. "DUDE."
"I see them."
"They're perfect."
"They're like a commercial for attractive people."
"This is what I thought this place would be."
"Same."
Candy and Brad made their way to the check-in desk, and Mike and Dave watched like wildlife documentarians observing a rare species.
"Do you think they're swingers?" Dave whispered.
"I think you need to stop talking."
"Just asking."
Within an hour, Candy and Brad had set up camp near the pool and were introducing themselves to everyone with the enthusiasm of golden retrievers.
"Hi! I'm Candy! This is Brad! We found this place on TikTok!"
Brad waved. "We're super into body positivity and like, challenging societal norms and stuff."
Mike and Dave sat frozen on their lounge chairs, trying very hard not to stare and failing miserably.
Sarah walked over, sat down next to Mike, and said in a low, dangerous voice, "If you even THINK about—"
"I wasn't thinking anything," Mike said quickly.
"Your face says otherwise."
"My face is neutral."
"Your face looks like a cartoon wolf seeing a steak."
Dave wasn't even pretending. He was just openly staring until Lisa smacked him on the arm. "David Michael Henderson."
"What? I'm just observing the new campers. Being friendly."
"You're being a creep."
"I'm being neighborly!"
"You're breathing through your mouth."
Dave closed his mouth.
Candy bounced over to their cluster of lounge chairs, Brad trailing behind. "Hi! Are you guys first-timers too?"
"Uh, yeah," Mike managed. "First time. Yep. This is us. Experiencing nudity. For the first time."
"Isn't it AMAZING?" Candy gushed. "Like, I thought I'd be so self-conscious, but everyone here is so chill and supportive. Brad was nervous at first, but I told him, babe, nobody cares about your body. We're all just human, you know?"
Brad nodded earnestly. "It's really freeing. Like, I spend so much time at the gym worrying about how I look, and here? None of that matters. It's just about being present."
Sarah raised an eyebrow at Mike. "Hear that, honey? It's about being present."
"I'm very present," Mike said, eyes darting everywhere except directly at Candy.
Lisa smirked. "Dave, you look tense. You should try being present."
"I AM PRESENT."
Candy clapped her hands. "We should all hang out! Do you guys play volleyball?"
"Love volleyball," Dave said immediately.
"You've never played volleyball in your life," Lisa said flatly.
"I'm willing to learn."
Brad grinned. "Awesome! There's a game starting in like ten minutes. Let's do it!"
Candy grabbed Brad's hand and they bounded off toward the volleyball court like a shampoo commercial come to life.
Mike and Dave looked at each other.
"We're playing volleyball," Mike said.
"We're absolutely playing volleyball."
"Even though we have no idea how to play volleyball."
"Irrelevant."
Sarah and Lisa watched their husbands scramble to their feet and speed-walk after Candy and Brad.
"This is going to be a disaster," Sarah said.
"I'm going to enjoy every second of it," Lisa replied.
They were both right.
The volleyball game was a masterclass in humiliation. Mike and Dave, neither of whom had touched a volleyball since high school gym class, flailed around the court like inflatable tube men in a windstorm.
Candy, meanwhile, was a revelation. She spiked. She dove. She moved with the grace of someone who'd clearly played competitive sports and had the muscle memory to prove it.
Brad was equally athletic, leaping for blocks and somehow making it look effortless.
Mike lunged for a ball, missed, and landed face-first in the sand.
Dave tried to set the ball, miscalculated, and sent it flying into the woods.
"You got it, Mike!" Candy cheered as Mike staggered to his feet, spitting sand.
"Great hustle, Dave!" Brad added as Dave jogged back from retrieving the ball.
By the end of the game, Mike and Dave were exhausted, covered in sand, and somehow more naked than they'd felt all weekend.
"That was so fun!" Candy said, not even winded. "You guys are great!"
"We're terrible," Mike wheezed.
"But you tried! That's what matters!"
Brad clapped them both on the back with the kind of friendly force that nearly knocked them over. "You guys are awesome. Let's grab lunch together!"
And so they did. The six of them, sitting at a picnic table, eating sandwiches, Candy and Brad talking enthusiastically about their fitness routine, their TikTok channel, their philosophy on life.
"We just think, like, the world puts so much pressure on people to look a certain way," Candy explained, gesturing with her sandwich. "And coming here is about rejecting that. About saying, my body is my body, and I'm not going to apologize for it."
"That's beautiful," Sarah said, genuinely impressed.
"Right?" Candy beamed. "Like, Brad used to be so insecure about his abs."
Brad nodded solemnly. "I was only at like eight percent body fat. It was a dark time."
Mike choked on his water.
"But now," Brad continued, "I'm at like eleven percent, and I feel SO much better. More balanced, you know?"
Dave stared at his own stomach, which had not seen a defined muscle in approximately fifteen years. "Yeah. Balance. That's important."
Lisa patted his hand. "You're perfect just the way you are, honey."
"Thanks, babe."
"Barely functional, but perfect."
"Hey."
As lunch wrapped up, Candy suggested they all do yoga together the next morning. "There's a class at eight! It's supposed to be super grounding."
"We'll be there," Sarah said immediately, glancing at Mike and Dave with a look that said, You will be there or you will die.
"Can't wait," Mike said weakly.
"Same," Dave added.
Candy and Brad skipped off to explore the nature trails, leaving Mike and Dave slumped at the table like deflated balloons.
"They're nice," Dave said after a long silence.
"They're horrible," Mike replied.
"They're exactly what we thought this place would be full of."
"And now that they're here, I hate it."
"Same."
Sarah leaned in. "You two having a good weekend?"
Mike looked at her. Really looked at her. She was relaxed, smiling, genuinely happy in a way he hadn't seen in months.
"Yeah," he admitted. "Actually, yeah."
"Good. Because if I catch you staring at Candy one more time, I'm going to drown you in the pool."
"Noted."
Day Three: Downward Dog and the Death of Dignity
Sunday morning arrived with the gentle cruelty of a hangover. Mike and Dave dragged themselves to the yoga pavilion at 7:55 a.m., still half-asleep, already regretting every decision that had led them to this moment.
The pavilion was open-air, wooden beams supporting a roof that provided shade but little protection from the judgment of the universe. Mats were laid out in neat rows. Soft flute music played from a portable speaker. The instructor, a serene woman in her sixties named Lotus (definitely not her birth name), greeted everyone with a peaceful smile.
"Welcome, friends. Today we'll focus on grounding ourselves in the present moment."
Mike and Dave unrolled their mats at the back, as far from everyone else as possible.
Candy and Brad were front and center, stretching with the ease of people whose bodies actually bent the way they were supposed to.
Sarah and Lisa set up right next to their husbands, clearly intending to supervise.
"Remember," Lisa whispered to Dave, "deep breaths. Focus on your practice."
"I don't have a practice," Dave whispered back. "I have a history of avoiding exercise."
"Today that changes."
"I doubt it."
Lotus began with some basic stretches. Mike and Dave followed along, feeling every year of their sedentary lifestyles screaming in protest.
"Now," Lotus said in her calming voice, "we'll move into downward-facing dog."
Everyone folded forward, hands on the mat, hips in the air.
Candy, positioned directly in front of Mike and Dave, executed a perfect downward dog. Her form was flawless. Her flexibility, remarkable. Her position, directly in their line of sight.
Mike's brain short-circuited.
Dave's brain followed immediately after.
It wasn't intentional. It wasn't conscious. It was just biology, inevitable and merciless.
"Uh oh," Mike whispered.
"Yeah," Dave whispered back. "Situation."
"Big situation."
"Getting bigger."
They were standing at full attention, as obvious as lighthouses in a storm.
Sarah, mid-stretch, glanced over. Her eyes narrowed. "Michael. Robert. Thompson."
"It's not what it looks like!" Mike hissed.
"It looks like you're pointing at Candy's ass."
"It's the yoga! The stretching! The blood flow!"
"It's two in the afternoon."
"Afternoon wood!" Mike blurted, the desperation clear in his voice.
Lisa had noticed Dave's situation as well. "David. What is happening right now."
"I can explain!" Dave stammered. "It's just the position! The angle! The, uh, the alignment of my chakras!"
"You don't have chakras."
"I MIGHT."
Candy, blissfully unaware, transitioned into another pose, bending backward in a way that somehow made everything worse.
Brad, equally oblivious, said loudly, "Babe, your flexibility is insane!"
"Thanks, babe!"
Mike tried to think about taxes. Dave tried to think about his mortgage. Neither strategy worked.
Lotus, sensing a disturbance in the flow, looked over. Her serene expression flickered for just a moment. "Gentlemen, if you need a moment, please feel free to step outside or take a swim."
"Great idea!" Mike said, grabbing his towel and covering himself like a man fleeing a crime scene.
Dave followed, equally frantic. "We'll just, uh, we'll just go cool off!"
They speed-walked toward the pool, towels clutched desperately, while Sarah and Lisa watched them go with expressions of pure, vindicated satisfaction.
Candy finally noticed the commotion. "Oh! Are they okay?"
Brad scratched his head. "I think they had to poop."
"Oh, that makes sense. Yoga gets things moving."
Back at the yoga pavilion, Sarah and Lisa looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"How long do you think before they come back?" Sarah asked.
"An hour, at least."
"Think they learned anything?"
"Absolutely not."
Day Three, Continued: The Reckoning
Mike and Dave stayed in the pool for forty-five minutes, long after the need for it had passed, because facing their wives felt more dangerous than hypothermia.
"We're never going to live this down," Mike said, floating on his back.
"Never," Dave agreed.
"Sarah's going to tell everyone."
"Lisa's probably already texted the group chat."
They floated in silence, contemplating their absolute failure as human beings.
When they finally returned to their cabins, Sarah and Lisa were sitting at the picnic table, drinking mimosas, looking like cats who'd caught two very stupid mice.
"Boys," Sarah said sweetly. "Have a nice swim?"
"It was fine," Mike muttered, sitting down carefully.
"Refreshing," Dave added.
"Mmhmm." Lisa took a sip of her mimosa. "You know, Mike and Dave, we came here thinking you two had finally grown up. That maybe you'd learned something about respect and being present and actually seeing women as human beings instead of objects."
"We have learned that!" Mike protested.
"Really?" Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Because from where I was sitting, it looked like the second an attractive woman did a yoga pose, you two turned into teenage boys."
"It was involuntary!" Dave pleaded.
"We didn't MEAN for it to happen!"
"And yet," Lisa said, her voice dangerously calm, "it did."
Mike slumped. "You're right. We're idiots."
"Complete idiots," Dave agreed.
"We came here thinking it'd be some kind of fantasy camp," Mike continued. "And instead we just embarrassed ourselves and disrespected you and ruined yoga for everyone."
Sarah's expression softened, just slightly. "You didn't ruin yoga for everyone. Gerald thought it was hilarious."
"Gerald saw?!"
"Everyone saw, Mike. EVERYONE."
Dave put his head in his hands. "I want to die."
"You should," Lisa said, but she was smiling now. "But I guess we'll let you live."
"We're sorry," Mike said, looking at Sarah. "Really. We were idiots before we got here, and we're still idiots now, but at least now we KNOW we're idiots."
"That's growth," Dave added hopefully.
"That's the bare minimum," Lisa replied.
But she reached over and squeezed Dave's hand anyway.
They spent the rest of the afternoon actually relaxing. No ulterior motives. No schemes. Just four people sitting by the pool, talking, laughing, being present in a way they hadn't been in years.
Candy and Brad stopped by later to say goodbye. They were heading out early to drive to another wellness retreat in Arizona.
"This was amazing!" Candy said, hugging everyone. "We should all stay in touch!"
"Definitely," Sarah said, genuinely meaning it.
Brad shook Mike and Dave's hands. "You guys are great. Don't let the yoga thing get you down. Happens to everyone."
"Has it happened to you?" Mike asked.
"Oh, all the time. I just think about my fantasy football lineup and it goes away."
"That's brilliant," Dave said, like Brad had just shared the secrets of the universe.
"Thanks, man."
After Candy and Brad left, the four of them sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun start to dip below the trees.
"So," Sarah said eventually. "Did you two learn anything this weekend?"
Mike thought about it. Really thought about it.
"I learned that you're a lot braver than I gave you credit for," he said finally. "And that I've been taking you for granted."
Dave nodded. "Same. Lisa, you were so comfortable here. So confident. I didn't realize how much I'd stopped seeing you as, like, a whole person. Just as my wife. You know?"
"That's actually kind of sweet," Lisa admitted.
"Don't get used to it," Dave said. "I'm still mostly an idiot."
"Oh, I know."
Sarah looked at Mike. "What about you? Any other revelations?"
Mike grinned. "I learned that Gerald's shuffleboard game is undefeated."
"There it is."
"And also that I love you and I'm sorry for being a pervert."
"Better."
They packed up their stuff that evening, loaded the car, and prepared to head home in the morning.
As they stood outside their cabins one last time, looking at the camp under the stars, Dave said, "Think we'll come back?"
Mike considered it. "Maybe. But next time, we come for the right reasons."
"What are the right reasons?"
"I have no idea. But probably not to stare at naked women."
"That's a start."
Sarah and Lisa walked over, linking arms with their husbands.
"Ready to go back to the real world?" Sarah asked.
"Not really," Mike admitted. "But yeah."
They stood there for a moment, four people who'd spent a weekend naked together and somehow come out the other side better for it.
"Hey Mike?" Dave said.
"Yeah?"
"Next time, let's just go to Hooters."
"Deal."
Sarah and Lisa looked at each other and sighed.
Some lessons, apparently, took longer than others.
Comments
This is where your voice matters. Share your thoughts, questions, and personal experiences about nudist living. Whether you are new, curious, or long time, your perspective adds value to the conversation. Keep it respectful, open, and kind.
Comment Policy
We are all here for good conversation. Keep it friendly, stay on topic, and respect each other.
No body shaming or harassment
Social nudity is non sexual, so no sexual content
Respect privacy. No names, photos, or details without permission
No spam or random promos
Think of this as a fireside chat, not a shouting match.
