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A day in the life of a topless
beach follows a cycle. Early risers, the health minded or
young families tend to be the first arrivals. They keep some
distance from the beachside cafes and loudspeakers, aim for the
shoreline and busy themselves with morning papers and sand
castles. A little later, say around noon, the younger crowds
begin arriving. Those who didn't do too much damage the night
before begin oiling-up in small groups as gossip rises to
a low murmur reaching across the sands. Off come the tops and
the gentle massaging in of sunscreens, and much more brutally
than would a man do if asked for assistance (cont.)
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By late afternoon groups have formed, the young men begin their
pea-cocking
behaviors while the girls, affixed to their cell-phones, begin
the evening's negotiations. Flirtations level rise and,
believe me, seeing young women flirt without their tops is a
compelling vision. For reasons unknown they tend to busy their
hands with their breasts, matter-of-factly, as they engage in
conversation with prospective hook-ups, or settle on which group
to follow into the evening hours. For the most part the
beach depicted here is on Majorca, an epicenter for young
hedonists but also families. Night life is robust, and parties
often last until dawn. All day long there is a buzz in the air
of romantic possibility, but it has a communal edge. This
precursor to evening festivities, the day on the beach with its
abundance of flesh, of nubile bosoms posing in the sun and wind,
is for all-comers. It's a feast for the eyes, that does much for
the soul. PeterG, Nudist Bare
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