I've been spending the summer at my grandparent's farm. The best part about it has been swimming in the lake. None of the other kids will swim there: they say it's too disgusting, dirty, dangerous. They would rather spend their time soaking in chlorine at the community center pool. Not me. Sure, I'm careful not to swallow the lake water, but I love swimming among the moss and the mud and the frogs and trees. It's nature at its best.
The first time something special happened, it was easy to dismiss. I was treading water, just looking at the roots of trees in the distance, when I felt slight a rhythmic pressure against my crotch. It was like a hand gently pushing on my vulva, off and on. At first I thought a fish must have bumped into me, but when I felt around there was nothing nearby. I decided it must be some random muscle spasm. It felt nice though, so I just let it happen. It stopped after a minute or two.
The next time it happened was a couple days later. It was stronger this time. Previously it had felt nice but not particularly sexual. This time it got my juices flowing. Whatever it was, I wanted more, but sadly it stopped after a couple of minutes.
The time after that it was stronger still. It felt like the lake wanted to fill my vagina. There was a feeling of yearning about it. My breasts, too, felt an ebbing and flowing pressure, squeezing them as if in foreplay. I knew what was going on: the lake wanted to be my lover, my husband - and I wanted it too.
I climbed up on the dock, sat on the edge, and discarded my bikini bottom. I spread my legs wide for my would-be partner. I was rewarded. A spire of water rose up from the lake and approached my sex slowly. It rubbed my labia, teasing me for a moment, before it penetrated me. Immediately it filled up every recess of my vagina, pressing against my insides in a way that no human man could. Tiny eddies of current tickled my womb and my clitoris. Finally, slowly, it started washing in and out of me: a tentacle of water fucking me with gentle, irresistible force.
I lay back with my eyes closed and let my lover take me. At first I was impatient: I wanted more, faster; but my lover's rhythm would not be rushed. In time I was coming, and feeling at one with nature in a way that probably no other human has.
I'm in the hospital right now, for observations. My grandpa didn't see the lake's phallus filling me up and consummating our relationship. He claims that I was jilling off on the dock, and that my "crazy talk" scared him. The doctor thinks that a lake parasite infected my brain and is affecting my behavior.
"Don't worry, Tabby-Cat, it'll be all right," my grandma told me, as if I had been diagnosed with cancer or something.
They can think what they want. As soon as I'm released, I'm going back to the lake, my husband, and making love to it again. If I'm lucky, I'll have its babies.