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The forest floor absorbs the steady trickle, his jeans shorts turning a darker shade of blue. The man, in a moment of vulnerability, lets go, embracing the kink of wetting his clothes. The relief is immense, the feeling of the fabric sticking to his skin a perverse delight. He kicks off his Vans and socks, the cool water of the nearby stream beckoning. He wades in, the current tugging at his soaked shorts, the wet look a testament to his taboo act.