Lady in the Quicksand

[TBoneTony]

This is a story that I have saved for 2 to 3 years for a group like this one. Dedicated to the women who have been in quicksand for a long time.

Lady in the quicksand.
TBone Tony

I sit in the woods with my trombone as I play and listen to nothing but my notes. From each pull of my Trombone slide, I hear it slide in and out.
Each note I play, I listen to the sound spread out though the forest.
It is not often that I am able to play my music in peace, with my house always busy because of my mum telling me to do house work and my sister wanting me to take her to her friends house and the telephone ringing and my baby cousin coming over crying and throwing a tantrum.
Well my home life is just too noisy, so I just practice playing my trombone alone here is this quite forest.
Music has been one of my creative feelings, I may not be able to play really good, and I can’t sing for shit.
But I just play just for relaxation and for fun.
I also play my trombone so I am practising for my brass band’s competitions that start in a few months time.
Because of the competitions, I need to find time practicing, as I have explained before, my home life is no place for me to practice with so much distractions.

Out here in the wild, all I need is just the quiet sound of the birds chirping, the mud pit bubbling, light footsteps of someone walking towards there I am sitting, and a wonderful feminine vocals singing to the music that I play.
“Wait a minute?” I think to myself. “Where is that singing coming from?”
The voice of a female singing catches me off guard as I realise that she is singing to the slow bass music that I am playing on my trombone.

“Quicksand, I’m stuck here.
Quicksand, it’s so thick hard.
In here, I’m slowly sinking.
Oh quick…ugh
Oh quick…ugh
Oh quicksand.”

My jaw drops as I see where the wonderful womanly voice is coming from. It is a lady who is almost naked, in her one piece swimsuit and slowly settling herself into the cool mud pit.

“Beautiful, I want to feel the quicksand swallow me.
Beautiful, I want to feel the bliss and ecstasy.

Quicksand, my deep lover.
Quicksand, I don’t want to go.
I stay here, to give myself to you.
Oh quick…ugh
Oh quick…ugh
Oh quicksand.”

I watch as the quicksand lady lowers herself more into the mud that she calls her quicksand.
I had never seen anybody do this before, but it was not disturbing. I found it quite erotic. In a good and pleasing way.
I had myself a fascination about quicksand or deep mud, but I was quite afraid to tell anyone about it. It seemed that this lady might have the same interest as I have.

“As my body sinks lower, I feel you touching me.
Deep inside myself, the fire is so strong.
Your embrace on me, I can hardly breathe.
I can’t get out, oh with you I belong.”

Her words are hypnotic to my ears. She controlled though that long and fast flowing bit of that song so well. I always had trouble trying to play that on my trombone. She seems to know what song I was playing from before I stopped when I heard her singing on her own.

“Your mud kisses me on my breasts.
My nipples feel so alive.
No words can describe your touching me inside.”

My eyes bulge, only her head is on top of the surface of the quicksand.
My mind starts to wonder what her hands are doing under the deep and thick mud around her body.

I hear her voice getting drier and her breathing becomes deeper in gasps as she is enjoying singing in the deep mud pit.

“Quicksand, I’m so stuck here.
Quicksand, oh it’s so thick hard.
In here, I’m slowly sinking.
Oh quick…ugh
Oh quick…ugh
Oh…quicksand.”

Suddenly the lady in the quicksand looks into my direction.
“Why did you stop playing your trombone? Did I scare you?” she asks.
“Whoa!!!!!” I gasp and I stand up knowing that she has seen me. “I…I…I did not mean to look at you…your singing just attracted my attention.”
I stutter as I try to explain why I was looking at her.
“You have no mean to be ashamed young man, I was just listening to your trombone and I felt like singing along with you.” The woman replies.

I step over to where she was neck deep in quicksand.
“Do you need help there?” I ask.
“Why? Oh I guess you have not heard about the truth about quicksand.” The lady says.
“You mean that quicksand is not dangerous?” I ask.
“Yep, it’s all a myth as yours truly have experimented dozens of times before.” The lady explains to me. “Quicksand is a body of dirt and water that when unstable, an object sinks below the surface. But to a living person or animal who becomes stuck there, if their air inside their body is enough to keep them afloat then no matter how deep the quicksand is, there is little risk of sinking over your head.”
Wow…so you can’t sink over your head. My mind just boggles to the possibility of why the movies portray quicksand as dangerous, perhaps they want people to be scared away so they won’t try to…um…have sex in it.
While I can understand with that, I don’t see it as anything disturbing. I have masturbated a lot and often I have dreamed of having sex in quicksand. But to tell someone who is not into it is like trying to ask a Christian to believe in a different religion, it was not something you could get away with without having that person look at you in a different way. As if you had suddenly grown two heads.
Having this lady in this quicksand talking to me about what I had dreamed about was something I could only ask in my dreams, but now it was starting at me in reality.

“Um…do you know anyone else who likes to bathe in quicksand?” I ask.
“Yes…there are many people who love to bathe in quicksand, they even like to touch themselves in quicksand.” Says the lady in the quicksand, she smiles and half laughs as if she would catch me off guard with her words.
“Are many of them girls?” I ask.
“Well…not really. There are many guys who love this sort of stuff but only if there was a woman in there with them, you have more women who love to wallow themselves in deep mud or quicksand but many girls are shy about it, they need someone else to push them in and show them that they are not alone when it comes to this taboo topic. But sometimes you find a man who may not be into the quicksand fetish but still loves you the way you are, just like my husband.” Explains the lady in the quicksand.

After talking about the quicksand fetish with her, I find myself able to be more open to myself about what I dream about. I was not crazy or weird, often I tried to think about music and other things when I think about quicksand but now I feel relived that I am not the only one who has this interest.
As I looked at the quicksand lady stepping out of the deep mud, I wondered how old she was. Was she 30 or 40 years old?
“I was wondering…how old are you?” I asked.
“Well I will let you have a guess.” She replied.
I then thought about it with careful thought, she looks to old to be in her teens, and her voice sounds more mature than to be in her mid 20’s.
“I think you are 31 years old, or somewhere around there.” I said.
“Well…many people say that but as always…they are way off.” She said
“Wow? Then how old are you?” I ask.
“I am 56 years old and I still look young.” Says the quicksand lady.
Wow…56 years old, she is old enough to be my mother.
I look at the mud on her skin. She must be on something good or this mud is making her skin look younger.

After I said goodbye to the quicksand lady, my mind wonders of what I have learned. Maybe there are other women like her. And maybe a guy like me is not alone who is interested in quicksand.
As I take my trombone home and get back to my usual life, I think about the quicksand lady and the lessons I have learned from her.
The End

[Nessie]

I read this right after you wrote it. I always liked this one. Very poetic, and a bit different, and a lovely concept. And it's nice to see an older quicksand lady make an appearance.

Nessie