just checking...
I thought that I had finnaly had my fixation beat. I'm married and I don't look at other women. the roots of my quicksand interest grew from;
1. seeing the ursus valley of the lions clip one staturday afternoon, my good twin had noted, "wow, she sounds like she's getting boned!".
she sure looked like it too- according to my 8 yr old brain. Alas, I being "EVIL twin" had latched onto the concept...
2. pre-teen and teen rejection. Girls toyed with me, played games with my heart, and my head, but not the games I had thought I wanted.
out of the rejections came an unconscious desire to see a woman vulnerable, trapped, struggling and begging me for rescue from that, inevitable doom;
Her own deep, wet, softness- that I knew nothing of.
3. '92 I was in the air force, at San Vitto Air base, brindisi Italy. Short version, I met a civilian woman who appeared slightly chubby, even unattractive-
So, the presure was off. I suggested that we would spend "a day at the beach", only 6 km away. We ended up exploring a distant wooded plateau. Durring a picnic she removed her frumpy garb exposing a string bikini and her truely fantastic curves! she bopped me on the nose starting a game of tag, chasing after her we ended up thigh deep in quicksand. Not some black bracken bog of floating fertilizer or koalin clay. This was a warm spring with a thick dry beach sand covering... we made our own XXX-rated escape from this ideal "holywood" scene.
well, I'm a lot older now; it's not the age, it's the mileage. I've been blown up and broke down. I am married. I have tried to leave this interest behind.
I keep coming back. quicksand peril never looses it's thrill for me.
