The Plunge

The Plunge: A college tradition.

By nothing4u2c.

This is a work of fiction; all characters portrayed are over 18 years of age, and any resemblance of real-life people or events is by chance alone.

"This is so stupid," said Brooke, as I peered down the line of thirty or so freshmen, standing shoulder to shoulder along the river bank.

"I can't feel my toes!" complained Rachel. I shivered, my toes were beginning to go numb as well.

"Come on, you're being a bunch of pussies," said Josh, his hand tucked tightly around his junk, hiding it from view.

"I'm with them," I said. "This is so dumb. It's like 12 degrees out today." One of my arms was firmly planted across my boobs while the other covered my pussy. At least my armpit and crotch were keeping my fingers warm.

"THREE... TWO... ONE!" screamed a voice over a megaphone. All hell broke loose as thirty naked bodies splashed into the river.

"OH FUCK!" I heard someone yell, freezing cold water forcing the air out of their lungs.

I turned toward Brooke and Rachel, "Here goes nothing." I dove.

The freezing cold water made my already hard nipples turn from rocks into diamonds. "Ahh. Oh my god. Holy shit. Fuck fuck fuck!" the stream of profanities escaping my lips as I emerged from the water. I was up to my hips in barely-above-freezing Mississippi river water, just north of the Twin Cities.

"I'm gonna kill you for dragging me into this!" Rachel screamed at me.

"Holy shit, somebody grab her!" yelled a guy, somewhere upstream. A naked body was floating facedown, her ass and shoulders barely breaking the surface of the water.

"I got her!" yelled Josh, swimming further out into the faster moving neck-deep current of the Mississippi River. Another guy followed closely behind. They each grabbed an arm, pulling her head up out of the river.

"Help! This current is too fast!" yelled the other guy, his foot slipping as his head dipped below the surface. Josh planted his feet on the riverbottom, holding the girl and the other guy in place while I reached out to grab Josh's arm. My hand held Josh's, and together we pulled the unconscious girl and her other attempted rescuer to shore.

Brooke and Rachel stared. "Her lips are blue and her face is so pale. Do you think she's alive?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should call 911?" replied Rachel, solemnly.

"Does anyone know CPR?" screamed Josh, panting from the effort of pulling the two bodies from the river.

"I do!" offered a tall, slim girl, coming to join the gathering crowd. "I was a lifeguard last summer," she said, bending over the pale limp body. No sooner had she offered than the girl sputtered, coughing up water.

"Th th thank ssss," she gasped, still coughing and shivering.

"Someone get her a towel!" Josh yelled.

"Let's get her over by the fire to warm up," I offered, holding out a hand to her, helping her to her feet.

With her arms draped over Josh and my shoulders, we walked toward the center of the beach where head high flames crackled in the cold December air. "Here you go," said Brooke, offering her towel to the recently rescued girl as she joined us by the fire.

"Thanks, you guys saved my life," she said.

"No problem. What happened?" asked Josh, putting his towel around her shoulders as well.

"I think I had a panic attack from the cold water. I couldn't breathe. Next thing I knew, I was staring up at you," I heard her say, although I was distracted. Not a few minutes ago we had all been careful to cover up our various private bits. Now, looking around, we all stood and sat around the bonfire, nobody bothering to cover up except for the nearly-drowned girl who was covered in two towels.

"This is so bizarre," I said to myself.

"What's bizarre?" asked Rachel. I guess I said that louder than I thought.

"Here we are, sitting around a fire, naked as the day we were born, just rescued a naked girl from drowning, all for the sake of a stupid college tradition!" I laughed, looking around at the dozens of naked bodies gathered around the bonfire.

"Yeah, at least we can get dressed once we dry off," said Brooke.

"No you can't," said a voice behind us. A guy dressed in a thick winter jacket, Carhart pants, and gloves laughed, as the sound of a turbo diesel pickup whistled. "There go your clothes now!"

Dumbfounded, I looked first at Brooke, then Rachel. "Shit."

"Shit," they both replied in unison.

The End.