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In The Woods

In summer, I like walking in the woods with nothing but a tshirt and very short shorts, pretending to do sports. I'm afraid to meet people. Sometimes, if I see a family,I prefer to hide away. But sometimes, if I see a mature man, I keep on walking slowly, greet him with a shy smile. I would like him to look at me. I imagine he could tell me I am not properly clothed. Don't am I ashamed? If he were my father, he would punish me . He takes me by the arm and slap my thigh. I am blushing, telling I am sorry. He slaps harshly my other thigh. And again harder. I start crying. He tells me to go away and to wear decent clothes. But it's just a dream.
Bataviot Bataviot 51-55, M 6 Responses Dec 3, 2011

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I like to walk in the woods in shorts. Sometimes when it gets dark, I even take them off, and keep walking in just my t-shirt and shoes.

i love the woods for going nude, i wear a long vest with short shorts once in the woods i remove the shorts then the vest , i always go with a rucksack on my back with drinks in and put my clothes in as well.

I can relate to that: have done similar though the risk of picking up ticks in the woods nearest me rather takes the edge off things! In fact that did once happen but luckily it was easy to see and remove.

A dream maybe but a very good dream but I'm not quite sure where reality ends and dream begins. Is it at the sentence starting "I imagine..." ?

Do you wear your T-shirt outside your shorts then, so it looks as if you've nothing on under it?

I like your avatar; Wiiliamboyson2's as well.

I love to wear short short trousers and kneesocks like I did when younger. It is a great feeling and it is quite humiliating feeling like an older teenage put back into short trousers. Its even better in cold weather when the bare legs get cold and anyone seeing me looks at me a maybe laughs at me. It would be great if someone then said I deserved my legs slapping

Our PE teacher used the slipper but only rarely and never for being slow or not very good at sports, only for bad behaviour.



There is something about skimpy sports kit as in the days of yore...

I've a pair of very short shorts I made simply cutting off an old pair of track-suit trousers. They have a rather harsh outer surface, a mid-grey colour, but the inside is a sort of fleecy material - don't know if it's a sewn-in lining or not.



Very comfortable anyway, and perhaps the man in the forest will run his hands over my bottom before he slaps me - perhaps having slipped the shorts down.



Although nothing like these fantasies took place I did once enjoy a shorts & nude walk one hot Summer day; not in woods but on a track forming part of the long-distance Pennine Way, in the NW of England. I started with shorts & T-shirt but once away from the village where I started, took the shirt off and put it my small back-pack.



A little further I stood up on the track verge - the track itself is appreciably sunken, and between fairly high dry-stone walls- and looked carefully up and down the hill. No-one in sight so off with the shorts & pants. Put the latter in the back-pack but carried the shorts so if I did see anyone in the distance I could dodge behind a field gate-post or bend in the wall and slip the shorts back on.



As I did when I saw I was slowly gaining on a couple, the only others I saw on the path. I dropped back slightly and they went out of sight without looking back, so hadn't seen me, before I turned away up a small stream valley and spent a happy hour or so in sunny seclusion, sometimes wallowing in a shallow pool.



Returning, I wore the thin grey shorts till I was sure I was alone, took them off and didn't put them on again until only a couple of hundred yards from the village.

I sometimes go for walks in the woods in very short shorts. The feeling of undergrowth against my bare thighs provides a powerful reminder of boyhood, when, like every other boy, I always wore shorts. We just got used to getting our bare legs scraped, scratched and stung with nettles as we played.
Another favourite outdoor activity for me is cross-country runs, like we had to do at school, always in the skimpiest of sports kit, with a strict gym teacher who will make me touch my toes for the slipper or worse if I don't run hard enough.

Yes, that feel of the undergrowth brushing knees and thighs is a real link to my boyhood also.