Category: Fetish Stories

Erotic Quicksand Ch. 01

by muddygurluk©

Helen gazed, fascinated by the wondrous stretch of soft, enticing mud-like quicksand that filled the clearing, in the deep, dark sensual shadows of the forest. Her forest. And waiting here, eternally, was her deep, dark secret paramour... as soft as silk, yet as strong as a bull.

It had been some years since she had discovered it, as a younger, slimmer, almost androgynous girl, playing and splashing in the shallow puddles until one time she had ventured too far out and sank screaming into the sucking depths. Panicking, she had scrambled and clambered out, her slight weight aiding her escape. But time had made her blossom into the fullness of womanhood, she was now 18, and her affection for play in the soft sand had blossomed with her, into a lustful longing to let her liquid-like lover linger on her bare skin, flow freely all around her, maybe within her too...

It was early morning, a Sunday, when others would lie in and none would disturb her. She had slipped out with her rucksack and rope, made her way with a skipping step, eager anticipation in her stride, to her waiting desire. Quickly, she had undressed, and wrapped a small towel round her for warmth, she now stood ankle deep in his shallows.

"Hello, lover... " she purred, as she let the towel drop on the edge of her erotic escort. In her foreplay, on previous meetings, she had learned a safe path of dry, supportive clumps and tufts of grass that would let her jump and hop out further than ever before... to the very heart of the quivering quicksand, its daringly dangerous, yet most desirable depths.

She made fast the rope, secure round a tree, and played it out so she could loop one end, tied loosely over one shoulder, without it suddenly pulling taut and knocking her off balance.

Naked as a virgin, she made one... two... three hops out, from green, grassy foothold to another, the small mounds shaking under her yet still supporting. Four... five... and the last tuft quivered like a jelly, disappearing slightly into the luscious liquidity of her lover. This was as far in that she dare go. Whatever subterranean spring gave the sand its quaking quickness must be almost directly beneath her... she had heard that combinations of water and the type of sand could make a 'quicker-sand' that you would disappear into with just one step. She didn't want that... she wanted a slow, soft, sensual sink that stimulated her senses. Balancing on one ankle-deep foot, she tested the surface ahead, stirring it with her toes before putting weight on it. It yielded slightly, like a trembling trampoline, but she knew it would hold her for a moment before giving way...

Breathless with anticipation, her heart pounding, she lifted her other foot to let it rest on the shimmering sand, legs slightly apart, letting it ripple like a lover's muscles under her. Helen shifted her weight slowly from one foot to the other and gently, her lover took them in his grip, surrounding them. His strong, sensual semi-solid sucking stroked up her sensitive skin, making it goose-bump with a shivering mix of cold and desire. She let him squish between her submerged toes, running her fingers down her thighs as he caressed caringly up her calves, and nibbled naughtily at her knees.

With a gasp of gratified glee, Helen let her fingers dance over the fluffiness of her roused mound, which quivered in mutual sympathy. Between her thighs, she had become liquid herself, almost a small sucking mire edged with tufts of hair, as her lover was with grass, and she fantasized her two fingers were the personified legs of her lover, wandering unwary into her wavering wet warmth, sinking slowly into the quaking quicksand of her own quim.

Sensations soaring, she threw her head back, eyes closed, teeth gnawing at her lip, as her liquid lover teased tentatively up her thighs, cold giving way to a tepid touch, warmed by her own heat. She let her sticky fingers slip from her soaked sex, wanting him to be there, surrounding it, snuggling it, sinking into her as she was into him... a shared symbiotic submerging into the other's sensuality and sexuality.

Looking down, Helen saw her lover lingering below her labia, its shivering surface churned and textured now. She parted her thighs as much as his grip would allow her, and settled on his gritty gentleness, savouring the soft silty suggestion stroking her, surrounding her. Like no human lover, he touched her from toes to twat in one, like a pair of tights fashioned from filthy flowing fluid, and she ached to let his wet 'waistband' pull up over the rest of her body, over her breasts and shoulders, up to her neck...

Her legs parted, she let her bum bounce in the bog, her cheeks and sex slapping sloppily in the swirling surface of the sand. He smacked against her skin in short sharp splashes, and she loved the way he coated her bare emerging skin with a slimy sensual scum. Daringly, she bent down and let him nibble at her pert nipples, the rippling sand sucking at them like eager lips, until she let herself lie fully over him, on him, into him, breasts dipping in the mud, arms reaching out and holding him in a wide wet embrace.

She righted herself, letting the dirty dribbles of dank sludge ooze over her skin, her fingers appreciating its slipperiness as she rubbed it in, teasing her tingling nips, sending shivering shocks through her that merged and mingled with the mud-filled murmurings of her muff.

Dreamily, she pondered on the dirty desires she had now... yet, dirty was a word that had been twisted into something meaning filthy or forbidden, feelings that were not to spoken of, only expressed in indiscernible intimacies behind closed doors. Here, it flowered in its true original meaning, dressed in the dirt of her darling, like some primitive cave-woman who never knew the meaning of washing and ablutions, caked in mud as ancient as earth itself. To be dirty was to be as one with nature, and there were none so natural, so giving, so all-encompassing, as her lover here was...

He now had her higher than her slender waist, rippling round her ribs, a growing crushing grip that held her tight yet eased off and embraced her again as she made small aroused movements within him. His tepid touch teased her, always there and yet never quite taking her to the torturous tip of thrilling entrancement that would be her fulfillment. Unbound by a limited physical form, he filled her like no man ever could, the blossoming wideness of her libido and lust making her open like ever before, and he fluidly rose to the challenge. Both soft yet firm, greasy yet gritty, eye-widening, soul-searing textures and consistencies that held her on the edge of the abyss, the depths, of extreme ecstasy...

Her skin, her taut limbs and muscles, her very being, now shivered and quaked symbiotically with the liquid life and longing of her lover to satisfy. He rose round her breasts, swimmingly like shoals of fish, squirming and shifting over the heaving mounds with tantalizing tickles, teasing the taut tits and gnawing on her pointed, proud nipples.

Arms rested on his shivering churned surface, Helen was lost in the accelerating arousal, so near, so close, as close as her lover's crushing caress, yet still frustratingly far. She wanted him, needed him, would die without his love and final fulfillment. He held her up by her armpits now, lapping at her shoulders and neck, her submerged breasts lost in his long lingering liquid licks. He had all but her face and, deliriously, dizzy with desire, Helen wanted him to kiss her lips, touch and caress her face, let him run fluid fingers through her long blonde hair.

She daren't let herself go completely under... could she? Already his lusty liquidness lugged her, longing her never to leave. Her shimmering sweetheart seduced not only at her slender submerged body but also her swimmingly seared soul. Testingly, she kicked her long lithe legs slowly back and forth through his soft siltiness, yielding yet holding her firm. Her motions made him more miry, and she felt herself sinking suddenly under his strongly sucking sandy surface.

"You're mine forever, Helen... " she thought he heard his slurping, squelching sounds say, "My love for you is so, soooo deep." And she felt his gritty grip girdle round her, the tightening tremor of his touch taking her...

Adrenalin snapped through Helen, as at last she felt him surround her completely, the final trigger for her. There was no need for him to release himself into her like a man, already he was a gusher of jelly-like delight within her tightening trembles and tingles. Her orgasm rippled out, flowed over her as he did, and she buzzed and burned from her boggy bliss.

She could let him do that for the rest of her life...

And she would like that life to be longer than he offered at this moment. She was now completely satisfied but also completely submerged, lungs threatening to burst from the single deep gulp of air she took before he kissed her lips. Now she slowly searched through the sands for the rest of the rope, finding more relief in its tightening so she could ease herself back from her erotic endeavour and drink on the cold, refreshing, life-giving air once more.

She felt a sad reluctance, both from herself and her lover, as she felt his fluidly unfolding mass lazily let go and, covered in a rippling residue of his ribald embrace, half-dragged, half-crawled herself back over the tickling tufts of his grassy stubble. Beneath her, his dirty depths still dragged at her, enticed her, longed to lure her back, for he now knew how to pander to her passions, fulfill her fantasies. She looked back longingly too, seeing the churned-up surface, and furrowed frown of his usually smooth face, from her fight to be free.

Breathless, panting, a muddy semblance of Helen finally found its way to firmer flooring, and sat there, coolly shivering, but also quivering and shuddering from such an alarmingly amorous encounter.

Reluctantly she started to wipe the congealing, clinging clay he had clothed her nudity in, wringing it from her hair, shaking it from her arms and breasts and, lingeringly, letting it drip dirtily from her own depths, turned on by its ticklish teasing as it trickled from her tingling twat.

A sensual smile played on her slimily slicked lips, as she made her way to the nearby stream to clean up properly, and planned to see her new boggy boyfriend again very soon...

Written by: muddygurluk

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Story Tags: quicksand, masturbation, bog, mud, nature, outside, naked, anthropomorphism, blonde, sinking

Category: Fetish Stories