Story Peeps Change Lives

Walking Nude In The Countryside

Written by Ronald M

I am a nudist.

I am confined within my own clothes. Within my own skin, in many ways. Noone knows this but me and this one therapist I had. And that poor youth that stumbled upon me in that remote stretch of the river bank. He knows. Poor bastard. (He walked away mumbling to himself in disbelief).

I cannot share this to the world at large, it isn't something you let on in proper company. See, I do not go to nude beaches, I go to the creeks, rivers and golf courses, alone. The grass, birds and trees- they don't judge you. They lack a voice to criticise.

The golf course has been really good to me. Late at night, when all abandoned, I walk onto it and shed away my last vestiges, my last links to society- my clothes. Like a transformation, another person emerging. The one blind to inhibitions. The warmest nights, only. The windiest nights.

The shortly cut, manicured grass and putting greens, they cradle me. Like a cozy, earthen carpet. Soft and yielding beneath my feet. My ass. My back. My face.

The wind picks up, and all is well, all is bliss.  Caressing my hidden places with a soft, massaging touch. I don't question for a second why toddlers insist on being nude always. It feels great.

The stream was also very good to me. The remotest places. Just to lower myself into it, lay down in the shallow riffles and let its power rush over me and perhaps carry me to some unknown sea. Cool, refreshing and so very natural. The little fishes, they insisted on a piece of me, nipping at my body hairs and my skin. Caressing over you, the current is like being part of a vast, powerful network.

The sun has always been so good to me. Cradling me, sustaining me, energizing me in its fiery warmth. Warm and orange past my closed eyes. Eternal warmth. Til it retreats to the horizon.
The sun don't tell. Nor the birds.

I lived to strip another day in the countryside. Look past the foliage sometime, you may get more than you bargained for.

Author Profile: Ronald M

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0 #1 A Poetic Feeling — Karl 2010-10-30 18:43

I know the feeling of being nude. I wish I could be as poetic in explaining how I feel about it as you do. I've oftened wondered to myself (because no one else will listen) why many people think that nudity is wrong. After expelling Adam and Eve from The Garden of Eden, weren't they MADE to don clothing as punishment for their evil ways? We are ALL naked underneath our burdensome clothing -- are we so different from one another that we have to hide ourselves from every other person on the planet? What good is clothing anyway, other than those few days when we have to protect ourselves from the weather? Weren't all the ancient peoples of the world blissfully happy in their nakedness until the modern world encroached? I wonder about all these questions whenever I'm sitting naked in my backyard, frolicking on a nude beach (why do nudists frolick and clothed people walk along?), or play a game of horeshoes or volleyball at a nudist resort.

I too, have known the blissful feelings of a warm sun and a strong breeze blowing against what are usually the most private parts of my body, as I stroll along a hiking trail in the woods or on a walking path after dark in my neighborhood. I have spread my legs wide, arched my back and raised my arms and head to the skies in my appreciation for what nature has provided.

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