Now I can finally haul myself out of Wilf's bed, here's my account of Sunday's baptism:
Attending my first naturist baptism is an experience I’d recommend to those of a strong constitution. It’s fun, but only if you’re a bit tipsy. Wilf woke me up with a potent combination of a red rose, a full English breakfast and his erect manhood, which was somewhat unexpected, but rather thrilling. He told me that his parents would be travelling via minibus but they’ve been told to remain clothed, lest the apolstory should suffer and the deposit be rendered null and void as a result.
When we arrived there was already a trestle table set up on the beach with a small running buffet and a group of naked people were milling about. Wilf introduced me to his parents Simone and David, although naked they were very welcoming and friendly and teased Wilf for remaining in his clothes, a fact he soon rectified by stripping off immediately. I must admit that I haven’t had a great deal of experience of seeing the male member unclothed, apart from seeing classical statues and a glimpse of Kevin Bacon emerging from the shower in the film ‘Wild Things’ but Wilf seemed enormous. I won’t write any more as I’m embarrassed, but he was incredibly well toned.
The religious leader or ‘Mogi’ as we were instructed to call him turned up 20 minutes later, dressed in a surplus and very little else, gave a short sermon about casting out evil and proceeded to lead the faithful into the sea. I noticed that one of his assistants was swinging an incense holder about – surely that’s a little dangerous given the lack of clothes sported by the congregation?
After sampling the running buffet which I only nibbled at given the hygiene issues surrounding the whole event I drank a little too much wine. Wilf (now dressed in a pair of cut off shorts and a t-shirt) offered to walk me back to the B&B, whilst Simone and David clipped their money belts around their respective waists and headed for the nearby amusement arcades.
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