The Campout Pt. 4.2
The air off the creek was even cooler than the breeze that had blown through the tent that morning. Her skin was completely covered in goosebumps & she stepped toward the cold water of the creek. Sucking in a determined breath, she walked into the current of the stream. The ice cold water surrounded her feet, her knees, then her thighs. When she got to waist-deep water, she gasped as the cold water touched the warmest part of her, surrounding her pussy & sending a hard chill up her back.
She had to hurry or she could end up with hypothermia. It was then she realized she had left her soap on the bank with her towel. “Looking for this?” he mused, holding up a yellow bar of soap as he walked toward her. He barely seemed affected by the temperature of the water. Either that or he was very good at keeping his reactions to himself. “Yes,” she pleaded, reaching for the soap. He snatched the hand holding the soap just out of her reach. “Come & get it,” he commanded, the cold look in his eyes matching the water’s icy touch. With bated breath, she took the two steps to reach him.
“She really is being a good little slut,” he thought to himself as she waded through the water toward him. This water was not nearly as cold as some of the streams he’d had to wade through in bootcamp. Basic training in November was a bitch, but he survived. This felt tepid compared to that brutal iciness. As she reached him, he took her by the shoulders & spun her around to face away from him. Lowering the soap into the water to get a good lather, he began to wash her. Moving his soapy hands across her shoulders, he scrubbed her back as well as he could, then reaching his arms around her, scrubbing her front side, paying careful attention to her breasts. Her nipples were exquisite; feeling how hard they were under his fingers sent a fire through his loins. He could feel his dick hardening despite the water’s temperature.
She could feel his hands, surprisingly warm, against her skin as he washed her. The contrast between his hands & the water sent a chill through her that had nothing to do with temperature, or maybe it had everything to do with the difference of temperatures. As he finished washing her breasts, he told her to rinse off. She dreaded this, as she would have to completely immerse the top half of her body to rinse the soap off. Bending her knees & taking a breath, she ducked under, the warmth his hands had created disappearing completely at the stream’s icy current. Scrubbing quickly, she cleansed her skin of the soap & rose back out of the water.
Holding her arm as she returned to the surface, he helped her regain her balance. “Now you do me,” he told her, handing her the bar of soap & turning so she could wash his back. He felt her small hands scrub his broad shoulders & down his back. He turned so she could reach his chest, her fingers pausing for just a second at each nipple, before moving to his abdomen. Her pause at his nipples caused his erection to pulse with anticipation. Finally, he dunked himself in, rinsing away the residue the soap had left, and stood back up.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12aef64/the_campout_pt_42