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.
