>you're cooling down in the evening shade by a pond in a forest glade after a long dusty day of travelling
>content to sit and watch the world go by, propped against a tree, feet dangling in the water, easing their aches away
>you notice a figure creep up on all fours to the other side of the pool, then freeze, eyeing your form warily
>not judging you as a threat, the creature creeps closer, finally venturing out into the last of the evening sunshine and lowering its head to take a long drink
>The Swampert raises its head and you quickly judge it to be female. She stares at you for what seems an age, then lazily slips into the pond and sets about giving herself a mud-bath
>You quickly become entranced by her lithe, supple form twisting and wriggling in the mud. Your eyes follow every move she makes from standing up and stretching, muddy water running over her skin in rivulets to slathering mud along her hips and thighs
>She suddenly turns her head and looks at you directly. Ashamed, you glance away quickly and pretend to become engrossed in your bag. As you do, you seem to note a look of amusement in her eyes.
>Suddenly, you can't see her any more, the water completely still, except on the far side of the bank where it rippled gently. Did she..?
>Something grasps your ankles tightly and firmly, but gently, pulls you into the pond. You grab a panicked breath and hold it, only to find the pond isn't as deep as you'd feared and it was more like sitting in a very muddy warm bath.
>She's sniggering at your reactions, you can tell. But instead of being angry, you suddenly find yourself breathless and giddy, wondering what she has in mind.
>A hand full of mud is placed on your face and tenderly, she rubs it on your skin. The hand ducks repeatedly, rubbing mud on your arms, head and face.
>With a tearing sound, she rips your tshirt off, grabbing another handful of mud and slathering it over your chest, her touch turning tender and teasing, pinching lightly.
