I, Quicksand

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Nessie
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I, Quicksand

Postby Nessie » Thu May 19, 2016 12:34 pm

I, Quicksand

Loch Ness

I am always near the edge of the pond. In the winter I go dormant, my surface becoming hard and shiny, my quivering inner mass growing still and unmoving. When winter gives way to spring, I feel life once more awaken within as the waters which feed me thaw and begin to flow into me.

There are years when the rain floods me, but I do not go away. I remain, underneath the waves. If you wade through the pond, which has now overgrown its boundaries and step into me, I will take you.

There are years when the droughts turn my surface from a beautiful wet and shiny liquid to a skin of hard, dry cracks; but underneath, I am still there. If you walk on me, you may feel my skin give beneath your feet as I yearn to possess you.

If you step into one of my cracks and widen it enough to break through...I will take you.

***

Two have come to me -- you and your companion. You, I have seen before. You have been here earlier, though all you did was probe my depths with a long branch.

The woman, however, is a stranger.

She is beautiful, with pale, rose-pink skin and delicate features framed by long, full, shining and wavy dark hair. She wears a form-fitting white dress, which hangs to the knee. She is small, but her breasts are full and firm and her hips generously rounded.

She walks ahead of you, stopping a few feet short of me. She points at me. “Is that it?”

You say, “Yes.”

I sense your movements as you slide the denim duffel bag off your shoulder. You take out a small, black object that has a single glass eye. There is some conversation. You are making decisions, and getting ready for something.

She removes her shoes, putting them out of sight, in the bushes. You open your bag again and remove a towel. You lay this on the dry ground beside you.

And then, you raise your black instrument and begin looking through its glass eye at the woman. She begins to speak, but now the words have the sound of something rehearsed. After a bit of monologue, she walks forward, toward me, but as if she doesn’t see me.

I feel the smoothness of her skin and the warmth of her legs as she deliberately steps into me. She is in me to the knee almost immediately; I take hold around her strong, rounded calves, feeling muscles flexing and her knees bending inside me. I am caressing her feet as she sinks, gently probing even between her toes.

“Oh, my God! It’s quicksand!” she cries, as you continue to watch her with your glass eye. My shining surface brushes the hem of her dress, muddying the white with a dark rim. I do not want to take her quickly, for it is too pleasant, and I must linger over her; so, I slow myself as I give way beneath her to suckle and swallow her thighs. The skirt of her dress, soft white fabric, is now resting in folds on my surface. Wherever I touch her feels warmed by her heat; her legs move inside me with mock struggles; she is, yes, working her way into me, although it is designed to appear as if she is trying to escape.

Does she like me? Do I give her pleasure? I shall try!

As she lowers herself deeper inside me, I flow around her form, sliding over more and more of her delectable thighs, parting myself beneath her to allow her to sink steadily and slowly into me. My surface is now cupping the underside of her buttocks. Their weight on me is pleasant, and I savor the sensation of them resting there before I take them.

“I’m sinking!” she whimpers. “Somebody help me! I’m sinking in quicksand!”

Yes, she is sinking, deeper and deeper into me. Her white skirt becomes stained and splotched by me as it follows her body into me at a slower pace. I am now relishing her, the curves of her buttocks swallowed by me. I am teasing that sensitive spot between her legs, and flowing over every patch of bare skin I can reach.

I know she is not really frightened, and is coming into me willingly. I will caress her and hold her tightly, and I will feel as wonderful to her as she does to me.

As she descends, you slowly lower yourself to a kneeling position. You never remove the instrument from your right eye, but fiddle with the buttons on this as you watch, so you can look in on her more closely. You don’t even notice the mud seeping through the denim of your jeans, or the thistle scratching your arm, or the cramp in your left leg as you crouch down into an unnatural position. You are hypnotized by seeing this happen before your very eyes, and much too intent on capturing the moment to be diverted by any minor discomforts.

“I’m in to my waist,” the woman cries. “Please! Is anybody out there? I’m sinking! Help me!”

I now hold more than half of her beautiful form inside me. I continue to part myself beneath her, to allow her to slip even farther into me. I am soaking through the white material of her dress, feeling her ribs expand and contract as she begins to pant from the exertion. I take her down, at a deliberate and steady pace, holding her tightly and firmly, but tenderly; I will support every part of her. I will continue to caress her with my gentle nibbles while I lovingly stroke every inch of her.

She must come all the way inside! I must have her completely, but not selfishly. I want her to feel my passion for her. I will hold her and love her and flow over her, around her, and into every crevice of her. I feel her moving inside me. She is behaving as if she wants to leave me, but I detect no fear. Her struggles are designed to push her deeper into me!

Her bosom now rests on my surface. Her legs churn inside me, and I pull on them to assist with her descent. I accept the two soft and warm breasts with rapture as she lowers herself deeper into me. She twists, her delicate hands now touching my surface, the pretty fingers reaching, as if to clutch at something, but nothing is here but me and my love for her.

“I just keep going down,” she moans. “I’m sinking...I’m sinking...help me!”

She must be feeling adored by now! She continues to sink into me, accepting me and my stroking, making no effort to escape my affectionate clutches! Are you excited, my love? Are you aroused? Do my kisses and gentle licks please you? Do you love me as I love you?

Her breasts heave inside me, pushing against me and then receding from my grasp, with her panting. I hold them to me underneath my surface, soaking myself through the thin white fabric to lick at her nipples, and am softly teasing her moistly sweating underarms with my coolness as she slides deeper and deeper into me, surrendering to me, her arms now settling into me. I feel the massaging of her fingers as she pushes upward inside me, to sink herself down farther into my smooth and persistent grasp.

You creep closer, intently watching through your glass eye. Your white sneakers settle into the edge of me. I take the soles of your shoes and soil the cuffs of your white socks, but your feet are all I shall have; you come no closer and do not join her.

Yes! There is excitement here! I sense arousal...desire...and passion!

“Oh, God!” she cries, and bursts into mock tears. “I’m almost under! Isn’t anybody here? Please, please, somebody come by and get me out! I’m going to drown in quicksand!”

She pushes and twists inside me. I give way under her movements, and she sinks down into me more. I am now able to reach over her shoulders and settle myself over them. They tremble slightly, for she is becoming tired. Her arms do not come out now, but continue to move through me, under my surface, as she settles herself deeper inside me. Her long hair is resting on my surface. I am working my way into those shining locks, and they become sodden with me as I enjoy their softness and silky texture.

Her neck is hot, a vein pulsing as I pull her down into me, slowly, taking her slender throat. I never cease the steady flow of me between her fingers, between her legs, or between her toes. I pay special attention to any skin that is bare, and to her beautiful breasts. I cool her, for she is now hot and sweating lightly into me with exhaustion. I bulge where she pushes up. She makes waves in my surface with her breathing. As she works her way inside me to her chin, I hunt for every small hidden crevice and curve, and tickle the secret spot between her legs, deliberately insinuating myself all over her, with no part of me not stroking, no part of me not caressing, no part of me failing to engulf her.

You lean forward, your glass eye catching every moment of her final struggles. You rarely blink.

She screams now, her mock sobs becoming mock hysteria.

“I’m going under! I can’t get out! Please, somebody! It’s quicksand! I’m drowning! I’m going to die in here...!”

But she is not afraid. I am holding her so securely, caressing her so completely, and with such tender care, that she cannot help but love me in return. Yes, there is passion here. There is arousal. There is genuine love for me here, and enjoyment of everything I am doing to her...and for her.

With a final twist and a strong shove under my surface, she gives a last mock cry for help, and pushes herself into me. In mid-scream, I close over her flawless face, cutting off the sound as I pass over her pink lips. I kiss her cheeks as I absorb them. I nibble on her earlobe before I take her ears, and flow into her hair until I am nuzzling her scalp. She tilts her head back, her mouth escaping for one final pleading cry, and then, she slides completely into me.

Your glass eye watches as I cover her nose, roll over her eyes, and the top of her head disappears from view.

She exhales beneath me, and I feel her breath pass through me, and escape me in a bubble, breaking my surface with a sharp pop. I feel her burrow down deeper inside me. Her hair, floating on the surface, trails after her into the indentation she has made on my surface as I accept her entire shapely form.

I caress her, and hold her, and flow over her. I have all of her now, and I shall make the most of this! I need to make her feel as much of me around her as I feel of her. I would like this to be as good for her as it is for me.

There is no part of her I do not have. I shall keep her here, inside me, for as long as I can persuade her to stay. I shall adore her so thoroughly that she will never wish to leave!

I sense such passion! A pounding heart. Blood flowing through veins, flushed skin, arousal and desire...and, yes, great love for me.

I feel another movement inside me, and suddenly, her head has broken my surface. Pieces of me cling to her face, and her hair is soaked and heavy with me.

You flip something “off” on your instrument, and set it quickly back in the bag; then, you reach for the towel you have taken out earlier. You bend forward, placing it in her hands. Blindly, she grabs at it.

She wipes me firmly off her eyelids, and then, her eyes open. She vigorously removes the remnants of me from her lips.

“How was that?” she asks.

“Beautiful!” you exclaim. “Absolutely smashing, Lori. When the quicksand guys get a load of this, their eyes are going to fall right out of their sockets!”

“You have got to be kidding,” she moans. She continues to wipe as much of me off her skin as she can. When she has her face mostly clear, she climbs out of me...with little emotion. “I’m ready for that pond now.”

But what was that I sensed? The passion...the arousal...the love for me? It’s subsiding now...but it was there, definitely there! I cannot be mistaken. I felt it!

You take her hand and assist her in her escape from me. She leans on you for a few seconds, steadying herself. Then, she lets go of you, leaving pieces of me on your hand. She turns to walk toward the pond, which is always near me.

She throws a last backward glance at me...with distaste in her eyes.

“Anything for a paycheck,” she mutters.

It didn’t come from her.

It was YOU whose excitement I sensed!


You turn your back to her, appropriately not watching, as she peels the dress that is now soaked with me off herself and wades into the water, splashing herself clean...and rid of me.

I can do nothing but stay where I am, and mourn.

It was you whose passion I felt, you whose blood ran high, you whose heart pounded, you who were entranced!

You don’t even know why, but you adore me with a mysterious and deep ardor. You have tried, but you never forget me. I am your secret love, your baffling fascination, your clandestinely worshipped and powerful idol.

I fascinate you, hypnotize you, and arouse you.

You have loved me for as long as you can remember.

Why wasn’t it you who came into me?

Why did you send me someone who doesn’t care for me at all? Someone who cannot be moved by me...someone I cannot please no matter what I do?

She has now washed the last of me off her skin. She has taken new clothing from your bag, and you may now look at her. You lead her away.

You are leaving me!

Now, I wait for you.

And wait...

...come back!

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tanya_wam
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Re: I, Quicksand

Postby tanya_wam » Thu May 19, 2016 6:24 pm

Wow, what an amazing different way of looking at the whole sinking experience! Wonderful! :D
Oh tosh! Tanya retorted, quicksand churning,
Round her knees, then thighs, then oh dear!
It got intimate with her hips and her panties,
And squished rather funnily up her rear!

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Chimerix
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Re: I, Quicksand

Postby Chimerix » Thu May 19, 2016 7:37 pm

Loved it then, and love it all the more now!!!
The difference between theory and reality is that, in theory, there is no difference between theory and reality.

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Nessie
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Re: I, Quicksand

Postby Nessie » Thu May 19, 2016 10:39 pm

tanya_wam wrote:Wow, what an amazing different way of looking at the whole sinking experience! Wonderful! :D


Thank you. I have always liked the idea of the quicksand as a sentient being that might be in total agreement with me about the pleasures of sinking. Some mudpits do wiggle and jiggle a bit when you sink into them...I prefer to think that this means they've accepted me and they're happy to have me!

Nessie

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PM2K
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Re: I, Quicksand

Postby PM2K » Fri May 20, 2016 2:36 am

Thanks for the story, Nessie. :D A great one, for certain. :D

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tanya_wam
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Re: I, Quicksand

Postby tanya_wam » Fri May 20, 2016 5:06 am

Nessie wrote:
tanya_wam wrote:Wow, what an amazing different way of looking at the whole sinking experience! Wonderful! :D


Thank you. I have always liked the idea of the quicksand as a sentient being that might be in total agreement with me about the pleasures of sinking. Some mudpits do wiggle and jiggle a bit when you sink into them...I prefer to think that this means they've accepted me and they're happy to have me!

Nessie


I've not had the pleasure of a sink, let alone one as erotic as in your story. :oops:

Forgive me for asking but are you the same Nessie who was in a quicksand documentary? Someone showed that to me last week.
Oh tosh! Tanya retorted, quicksand churning,
Round her knees, then thighs, then oh dear!
It got intimate with her hips and her panties,
And squished rather funnily up her rear!

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Northerner
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Re: I, Quicksand

Postby Northerner » Fri May 20, 2016 6:50 am

This is really cool :D Unique take on the first-person quicksand point-of-view :D
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Nessie
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Re: I, Quicksand

Postby Nessie » Fri May 20, 2016 11:04 pm

tanya_wam wrote:Forgive me for asking but are you the same Nessie who was in a quicksand documentary? Someone showed that to me last week.


Probably. I let the VICE boys see my quicksand pit about year and a half ago. Not sure why they showed up in OctoBRRRR, but I got one of the guys to go into the mudpit in waders!

Nessie

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tanya_wam
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Re: I, Quicksand

Postby tanya_wam » Fri May 20, 2016 11:44 pm

Nessie wrote:
tanya_wam wrote:Forgive me for asking but are you the same Nessie who was in a quicksand documentary? Someone showed that to me last week.


Probably. I let the VICE boys see my quicksand pit about year and a half ago. Not sure why they showed up in OctoBRRRR, but I got one of the guys to go into the mudpit in waders!

Nessie


The guy with the beard? Yes, that was the documentary I saw. 8-)
Oh tosh! Tanya retorted, quicksand churning,
Round her knees, then thighs, then oh dear!
It got intimate with her hips and her panties,
And squished rather funnily up her rear!

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TBoneTony
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Re: I, Quicksand

Postby TBoneTony » Sat May 28, 2016 4:19 am

I feel for the Quicksand being alone after the actress finishes the film.

For once the quicksand has the girl, yet she goes away.

It is so easy to feel for the lonely quicksand entity.


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