This story was written for the 2025 Literotica 750 Word Challenge, below this line are exactly 750 words.
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They say when you hit the water in winter, you can't help but take a breath. There's even a name for it. It's called Cold Shock Response. The body's automatic reaction is to inhale. You crash through the ice, you suck a breath. That's just the way it is. Even if that breath means a lungful of icy death.
They also say when you die the way I had it planned out that night, you can't go to heaven. That too, is just the way it is. You go to the other place instead.
I contemplated all this as I stood at the edge, looking down.
* * *
She's behind me now, close, as if we were one. Our bodies pressing together. I feel her snaking an arm around my waist, sending her hand searching for mine. She weaves her fingers between my fingers and squeezes me tight for a moment.
She lets her grip slacken a bit, but keeps our hands locked together.
With her other hand, she's sneaking lower.
I shiver at the boldness of her touch and let my thighs go slack, resting my legs against the chilly porcelain enameled cast iron walls of the old claw-foot tub we share.
Goose pimples are raising on my exposed skin, the tops of my knees, and the bit of my thighs poking out above the waterline.
Our hands remain joined. She's not letting go.
I feel the little chuckle she lets out. Her tummy quaking against the small of my back. She knows exactly what she's doing to me.
But there's no audible laughter passing her lips. She's latched her mouth onto the side of my neck. And she's swirling her tongue.
All I hear is the sound of her breath in my ear. The gentle,
