We were in the woods like we had been so many times before. Either on quaint picknicks, heartfelt hikes, or when you took my womanhood for the first time.
This time we were by a creek, something you know that I loved, and the air was just brisk enough to be bearable by the light of the sun. We had been together for years and yet sometimes it felt as though we were still brand new to each other. It was conversations like these in the woods, where I told you how I'd like it if you hurt me. And you admitted that hurting me would excite you. We didn't know then about rules, or safewords, or dangers. We just knew we needed something the other was willing to give.
"Take off all of your clothes, except your shoes," he told me. I shivered. It was in part from the cold, and in part from excitement. Oh yes, I was excited, my chest was tight, my pussy throbbing. The road was within sight, anyone driving down could certainly see us. And yet, I stripped.
"Get in the creek," he said. Putting my feet in was the worst. Then putting my ass in was the worst. Then he pressed my chest down until I was completely submerged, and that was the worst. It felt like barely-melt snow, colder than freezing, my limbs were tight with the tension of teeth-chattering, tear-breaking, breath-stealing cold. I hate the cold, and here I was, held down in the creek by you.
You released the tension and I broke up out of the water like a breaching dolphin, flipping upward and outward. I was bursting forth, in need of some way to expend some energy, and you gave it to me with one word.
