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my-naked-family-1

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Subject: my-naked-family-series/my-naked-family-1 This story contains nudity between adults and pre-teens. If this offends you or is illegal for you to read where you are located, close this story. This story is fictional. Any resemblance to people real or fictional are entirely coincidental and any views stated do not necessarily reflect those of any company or organization that exists in real life nor necessarily reflect the views of the author. This story is the property and copyright of the author, do not share, reproduce, repost, or any such act which is illegal to do without the author’s permission. I appreciate you reading this story and you can contact me gmx. I will do my best to answer every email if I can. Any comments, suggestions, or questions are always welcome. Please donate to fty/donate.html to keep the archive free! —————————————————————————- Chapter 1 My name is Peter Glick. For the last 16 years I have been married to a lovely lady, Jean. We were blessed to have a fine young boy, our son Ryan, who just recently turned 14. Unfortunately for us, that also marked the time that Jean was diagnosed with cancer. She had some health issues but they weren’t anything we thought was important enough to check. Jean didn’t really care for doctors much, suffering from “white coat syndrome”. It was too late when she did go. Ryan and I lost her at the end of April. Even though Ryan and I knew what was coming, it still was devasting to us to lose her. We stayed with her during her last nite and into the morning. Our last memory of Jean was her smiling at us as she drifted off. The Hospice staff ushered us to a quiet room after her passing and gave us both a hot tea with lemon. The counselor spoke with us a bit. We decided to head home and return the next day. How we managed to make it home I really don’t know. To this day, I can’t remember the trip. Ryan and I head to our bedrooms to be with our thoughts. I strip out of clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor. I climb into bed and start to cry a bit. A drift off thinking about my wife. I sorta wake when the bed shifts. “Dad, can I sleep with you?” asks my son Ryan. I pat the bed and he gets in with me. He rolls over and spoons into me. His warm, naked body is soon wracked with sobs. “It’s ok to cry Ryan. You’re not too old.” I tell him as I join him in a cry. We hadn’t slept together şişli travesti since he was 12 on our annual trip to a re-enactment. Last year we just did local events as Jean started her therapy and we couldn’t take a prolonged trip. I recalled some our times before she got sick as I lay there holding him. We’ve lived in West Virginia for 6 years now after my job in Florida got terminated and we moved to Jean’s hometown. My wife and I were very suportive of whatever Ryan wanted to try out and do. Shortly after getting settled, we joined the Presbyterian Church here. Our 8 year old Ryan loved singing and asked to join the choir. He didn’t take after either one of us since he actually had a great voice. About mid spring during his 9th year, some of his friends convinced him to audition for a part in “Peter Pan” being put on at the park in their outdoor theatre. To our surprise, he got cast as one of the “Lost Boys” and had a few solo lines. Jean and I were a bit concerned that Ryan might be too shy to go on stage as he was that way when he had to sing a solo in choir. Well, he proved us wrong on opening night as he was right out there with the rest of the “theatre” kids hamming it up. He got a kick out of dressing up and running around like a pirate. The theatre group’s main production was fairly large and required quite a lot of folks in the cast. The part in “Peter Pan” also got him one in the main production of the group about the founding of the county in 1790. He got to be on of the “Narrator” kids that provided the audience for the old man to tell the story. He like getting dressed up in “old timey” clothes. He especially was interested in the history. He became a little “know it all” with Revolutionary History (well as best as a 9 year old can). That got us hooked up with another group of people that did reenactments. Ryan wanted to join that group. We really didn’t own any appropriate clothes or gear. We borrowed some for the first year. Our immediate neighbor wound up being a big part of it. We had noticed him, his wife and son dressed up during the week in October the last year but never put two and two together. They let us borrow an outfit for their group so we could try out a day. They were pretty strict about not being in the camping area with street clothes and not having anything “modern” in view. Ryan and I thought that was pretty fun and really helped to bring history beylikdüzü travesti alive. I chatted a bit with our neighbors and found out some of the skills that were needed. I decided to learn how to be a Blacksmith since I was always fascinated by them working with metal. So over the winter, we started to get ready. We made some clothes with help and purchased a canvas tent. I started to go to auctions in the area and picked up quite a few things to use in our “camp”. Spring rolled around and we decided to head up with the group for a meet in Maryland. It was for 5 days and Ryan was stoked about camping out. Jean declined to go, letting us have “guy” time. So I packed up the truck and met up with the other three couples, their kids, and a few younger guys, 12 of us all told. We were partly dressed up in our period shirts and hats. We did turn a few heads at the Cracker Barrel we stopped at for lunch. We got our camp set up (with the help of everyone) and wondered around the park getting familiar with the area. Ryan was having a blast looking at all the setups and asking questions. He planned out the classes the next four days he wanted to take. They ranged from leathermaking to soap. All the necessary skills to survive were covered. He enjoyed cooking over a wood fire and sitting around it later at night. We were really beat the first night after the drive up and getting set up. We didn’t stay up too late and turned in around 830. Our tent was made of canvas and we didn’t have a stove in it, so it was a bit cold. I threw some pocket warmers in our sleeping bags a little earlier to get them warmed up a bit. We had nice wool quilts and were off the ground so sleeping shouldn’t be that bad even with a low of almost freezing. Ryan and I climbed into our sleeping bags. Afer maybe 30 minutes I hear Rayn ask “Dad, can I sleep with you? I’m cold.” So I open up my bag and he gets in. It is then he realises that I am naked. “Aren’t you cold Dad?” he asks. “Nope, I read that clothes actually keep you colder sleeping in the cold. So I slipped off my sweatpants and they are at the bottom of the bag staying warm for me.” So Ryan decides that maybe he should try it also. I never made a big deal about him wearing clothes at home but he had started to wear shorts more when we moved away from hot Florida. He snuggled up to me, spooning, and I wrapped my arm about him as we slept. Getting istanbul travesti up in the morning was a bit of a comedy as we were reaching in the bottom of my sleeping bag for our sweats so we could take care of the necessity. We had to find our sweatshirts and shoes. We slipped on our hunting coats and headed to the restrooms. We weren’t the only ones not quite dressed right, so we thought it would be ok the first thing in the AM. Ryan was giggling as we walked and I asked him why. “You were poking me Daddy.” “Yeah, squirmy butt. I saw you had a poker going also.” I said to him. We had a blast learning new things and making friends. Ryan was especially taken by some of the more organized groups from Pennsylvania. The ones that held his interest most was the Native American re-enactors. It was all he could talk about going home. I lost him on Friday afternoon for a bit. He snuck up behind me and said “Your coming with me white man”. I turn around and he is there with a bunch of almost naked kids, most of them in just “butt flaps” (I got eductated by him that they were actually ‘breech clouts’ and were a long piece of cloth that went under the crotch and draped over the belt. I was escorted by my “captors” to their camp in the woods, complete with teepees and a long house. We had a great time visiting and learning about new customs. We returned home to a busy summer with Ryan particiapting in this year’s round of plays. The kids on was “School House Rocks, Jr”. Ryan had a bigger supporting part. He helped out back stage with me during the adult play, “Bye Bye Birdie”. In the main play, Ryan got a part as an Indian with a bit of dialog. I believe what cinched it was him showing up to auditions in his costume that he was working on. That and his tan made him look the part. He pretty much dressed like that most of the summer. I suspect if I told him about my past as a nudist, he would have been naked all summer to work on that tan. The director had made him wear leggings to reduce the “scandal” as him said. This year we joined the educational program that was part of the WV history segment for kids Ryan’s age. I performed the job of blacksmith and Ryan got to be an Indian. The weather was still not too bad in the end of September, so he dressed in as little as possible. My kid was turning into a showoff. He did get a bunch of kids asking him questions which he was happy to tell them about the customs. All of us enjoyed showing them skills such as basket weaving, tanning, spinning yarn, making arrows and gunsmithing. I did a rip-roaring business in making nails :). The holidays were soon upon us and Ryan was entering into his 11 year in January.

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