Pea from 2011 or so
Late one July night when I was about 16, I left my mate's house who lived in a small satellite village of Hull and set off on my bike, but rather then go straight home, I took a detour and went down a dark lane and stopped near a gap in a hedge. I wheeled my bike behind the hedge and stripped off. For no reason whatsoever, I wanted to know what it felt like to be naked out of doors. But I wasn't going to join a nudist camp as I didn't want people seeing me naked, so I wanted to do it out of sight of prying eyes.

It's a weird feeling, even relaxing with a light breeze giving my crutch, genitals and buttocks an airing, in the dark with the glowing street-lights of Hull a few miles away.

I strode about a bit enjoying the exhilarating freedom. But then I froze. I heard an engine and saw a couple of headlights up the lane. Fuckity Fuckity fuck!

My clothes were on my bike which was lying on the ground hidden by the hedge. They were a good 20 yards away and I realised that the car would pass by before I could get to the bike, get dressed and pretend I'd stopped for a slash. I ducked down and waiting for the car to pass. It didn't pass. It slowed down and stopped at the other side of the hedge about 5 yards further up from me. With the engine still running, I heard a car door open and someone getting out.

fuckshitfuckshitfuckshitfuckshit!. If they spot me or my bike through the hedge, they're going to investigate. Surely they could hear my heart pounding, to me it sounded like someone trying to break into a kettle-drum with a mallet. I didn't dare move. To make matters worse, long grass was brushing against my buttocks and something was fluttering about near my right ear - a moth of sorts I think. I tried to waft it away but in doing so, I lost balance and tipped backwards. I managed to stop myself by putting my hands behind me. Did he hear me? I kept as still as possible, in a ridiculous crab-like posture, holding my rear up off the long grass for fear of ticks latching on and feeding on my blood. I must've looked like someone doing a performance art show, entitled "sausage on crooked coffee-table in starlight"

I struggled to wring out my brain for any plausible excuse. I had three stories:-

The truth
I was drunk
I was a werewolf who had just changed back to a human again.

Notwithstanding the lack of alcohol on my breath and that there was only at best only a half-moon, the truth, no matter how cripplingly embarrassing, would have to be my excuse.

I heard a zip and a splashing sound. It was a bloke stopping for a piss. He was taking forever. At least three hours. Well it seemed like that, it was more like 20 seconds. Then I heard a female voice.

"Hurry up Steve for fuck's sake. My dad'll kill me if I'm not in for 12"
"I can't piss any faster, christ stop fretting will yer. Anyway my tubes are still full of spunk" he retorted.
She giggled, "I didn't hear you complain at the time."
"I didn't see you offer to suck the remnants out so I could piss faster"
"Fuck off." she suggested.

He finished, zipped up and wandered away. He got back in his car and drove off.
'Thank fuck that they came from that end of the lane' I thought. Had they have been going the other way, the headlights would have more than likely picked out my bike lying on the ground behind the hedge.

As soon as they were gone, I hot-footed it to my bike, got dressed faster than I ever had before and biked home rather swiftly.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Thu 8 Aug 2013, 14:56, 2 replies)

Shit,
I wanted it to end with you finding piss all over your bike and clothes.
Good story otherwise.
(the other guy not the one that gave you coochie warts, Thu 8 Aug 2013, 15:34, closed)

Alright Pooflake.

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Thu 8 Aug 2013, 19:00, closed)