In my single days, I spent many summers on the beach at Fire Island, New York. Young men and women rented houses and lived together on weekends all summer long.
You didn't need much clothing, just a couple of bathing suits, a pair of shorts and a T-shirt or two. Oh, and flip-flops!
There's nothing on Fire Island -- no roads, no cars, hardly any stores, maybe a couple of restaurants and bars.
That's it. Some towns had only a small store. You had to take a water taxi to get from town to town. The island was beautiful, with glorious sunsets, clear clean water, bright sun and cloudless, blue skies. The ocean was on one side and the bay on the other. I had my first shower in the sunshine in an outdoor shower! And, no, I'm not going to tell you if I was in there alone.
The main drag is a wood path. The houses sit on sand. The front lawn is sand and the trees are scrub pines. The atmosphere is laid back. We played cards, drank cocktails, and cooked together.We went to the nude beach and made love with whoever we wanted. It was a free era, a long time ago.
I adored my time there. I made friends and broke out of my shell.
I've put aside my privacy rule and written about Fire Island in my book, LOVE'S LAST CHANCE, from my series, Hollywood Hearts.
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