Something Old Something New 4

I hate weddings. Especially the Asian ones - mind-bogglingly large, unnecessarily exuberant, and all the bad blood and family politics that erupt. In my experience, at least, Western weddings were a lot tamer. Formal, yes, but at least families got together to celebrate rather than bring up vendettas. But, I digress. The problem that hit me the most was, given the number of people who attended, I was bound to come across someone I knew. And I did.

It was my ex.

That was a bitter pill to swallow. Lisa and I had been together for five years and were about to get married, until she developed a case of cold feet and ran off - only to hook up with another guy she had just met. The worst bit, outside of the emotional stress, was that in Asian cultures, I was the one who had lost face. I looked bad to her family, being seen as the cause rather than the victim. Five years down the track, this wedding happened. It was a friend who I hadn't seen in a while. A few degrees of separation through the family circles, and it turned out that one of the bridesmaids was Lisa. Which would've been fine - with all the makeup and fancy dresses, I could hardly recognise her, but when she tried to make amends, it snapped something in my mind.

When the storm clouds in my head cleared, I found myself on the beach. I couldn't remember the previous half an hour. I must've been really angry. Maybe I said something. The reception was still going on, somewhere in the distance. I had made my way down the boardwalk and found sanctuary with the rolling waves. The full moon illuminated the beach like a bright street light. I was conscious of how far I had wandered. I left my jacket and found at the party. I felt sick in the stomach and didn't want to go back yet. Not with Lisa there.

"You all right?"

I turned around to see another familiar face. My chest began to cramp, but this time it was a false alarm. It wasn't Lisa. It was her younger sister, Diana. Though five years younger, Diana was the more mature sibling. We were good friends until the breakup, and we lost contact after she moved out of town. There wasn't anything between us as far as sparks go. She saw me as her older brother and I treated her as the sister I didn't have. Lisa's rash decision hurt both of us in that regard, and we drifted apart. Being more level-headed, Diana had more success in holding onto her career aspirations, but with more expected of her, she was under constant scrutiny by her extended family. Her studies, her relationships and her finances were all criticised by someone, somewhere. She had been most flustered with her weight - as usual, the women in the family regarded her as fat. She was the curvy sort, though nothing in the realm of being overweight. Nonetheless, she had slimmed down since last we met.

"I saw your confrontation with Lisa," she said. "I wanted to check that you were okay. It's not your fault."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," I replied. "And yeah, I'm okay. Just needed to clear my head."

"Me too," said Diana. "Couldn't stand the bitchy women back there."

I stifled a laugh. It had been a long time since we had spoken with each other. We stood on the beach, looking out to the sea. I looked over at Diana. I was head taller than her, though her heels made up some of the difference. She was wearing a modest beige evening gown. As was her style, she didn't show too much, partially because of a skin condition that made her arms and back rough and unappealing. It didn't look too bad now, but she must still be conscious of it.

"Feel like going for a swim?" she asked.

"We're not exactly dressed for it." I answered.

"Then we take our clothes off."

Naked? As in, skinny dipping? It was bizarre to hear it from Diana. Her family was very conservative and she was the sort who thought risk-taking was silly and unnecessary, kind of like how I see it. The big brother side of me started to show. I wanted to tell her that it was a silly idea and that we'd get caught. Besides, there was the reception going on and we should go back so that we wouldn't insult the newlyweds. She would've accepted my refusal and gone back with me. If I had said so.

"Sure, whatever, let's go."

I unbuttoned my shirt as she unzipped her dress. Our underwear came off within seconds and we ran to the water. The first touch was cold, but we kept on going. We didn't care that we were nude. Our eyes weren't on each other. We just wanted to go. A moment of hesitation and we would've stopped, so we dove right in. The hardest part is getting each part of your body wet. As soon as the first wave came, I flopped forward. The water was too shallow for me dive properly, so I stumbled awkward and nearly had a mouthful of seaweed. The distinct taste of the salty water filled my mouth. I managed to get my hair wet, which was enough to make me feel comfortable enough. The next wave removed any doubts that I was sufficiently wet. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I couldn't quite believe that we had escaped a wedding to go skinny dipping. Neither Diana nor I would have done so on our own volition. We both wanted to get away from our trappings. Our clothes were now far away on the shore as we splashed around and floated in the wild sea. We didn't play around like kids or try to splash water on each other - the surf was a little too rough to muck around and we just wanted to feel liberated. As soon as the thrill fizzled out, we made our way back. It was cold, and the current was strong - I certainly had no intention of being swept out.

It was pretty chilly, but the warmth of being free made it worthwhile. Nonetheless, I was pretty keen on drying off and getting some actual warmth. Diana felt the same. She held her arms around her body, shivering but otherwise happy. She walked quickly ahead of me, eager to get her clothes back on. I watched her with some innocent pleasure, captivated by her long, wet black hair against her bare back and her glistening buttocks. Despite our close encounters, we had never seen each other naked. I had walked in on her while changing a couple of times in the past, but she was always a careful person and never got into a compromising position. This was probably the only time she had broken that rule.

My thoughts were disturbed when my foot caught on something. Thinking it was another blob of seaweed, I looked down to see my feet ankle-deep in the wet sand. I lifted my right foot, which came out with a loud slurp, and it sank again when I stepped forward. I lifted my left foot, or at least I tried to. The sand didn't want to let go. I twisted it free, and again it sank when I placed it down. I observed in fascination as the glistening sand seemed to move around my feet. I could see faint ripples where the sand had turned into a soft slurry, which condensed around my feet to hold me down. The wet grains moved around my calves, sinking deeper. I took one more step, this time with more effort than I was comfortable with. I wasn't sure if I wanted to call out to Diana. I felt kind of embarrassed that I was struggling with a bit of wet sand.

I looked head to where Diana was. She was around fifteen metres from where I was stuck, and she had encountered her own soft patch. An increasingly deeper set of footprints led to where she was bogged down, up to her thighs in the quaking sand. The rippling pattern was even larger around Diana, indicating that she had stepped into something much bigger. Her struggles only softened the sand around her legs, causing her to sink deeper with each motion. Behind her, the hollow prints filled in with water, and then more sand. I broke free of my crumbly sand trap and walked towards Diana to help her out. Barely a few steps in, and I stepped into the same slushy trap that was enveloping her. This time, rather than curious semi-solid sand I had stepped in, this patch was nearly completely liquefied. My movements felt like they were in slow motion. I couldn't stop myself from stepping forward, compelled by the shifting sand to stumble ahead until I was also thigh-deep in the voracious sand.

Diana and I exchanged glances. We were really in trouble. The serene waves added an ironic backdrop to our predicament. It was honestly scary. The feeling of the cool sand sucking at our legs, pulling us down. What if we were stuck? What if there was no bottom? We'd be lost, naked, all because we went for a stupid skinny dip. We both concentrated on our individual struggles. I sat back, letting the sand cup my buttocks, oozing against my crotch. The sand stuck onto my legs like a thick syrup moving underneath my body. I hoped to reach the less "quick" part of the beach I was on before.

Diana was having much more difficulty. Having wandered into the middle of the quicksand, she was surrounded by the slippery, shimmering sand. Unable to feel anything underneath, she tugged on each leg to maintain balance, but it only resulted in driving her legs deeper. The sand made its way up her thighs and cupped her bottom. Surprised by the sand's intimate touch, she resumed her struggling, limited now to twisting her hips, which too succumbed to the quicksand. She looked at me with desperation. By now I had managed to free myself and circled around to her front, where the sand wasn't as unstable. This was some kind of ledge jutting out into the soft spot where Diana was trapped. It felt like it could give way at any moment, but it was the only way I could reach her. I dropped off the submerged ledge and allowed myself to sink in front of her so I could reach out with one hand while the other clutched at the buried rock.

Diana blushed. She had a good view of my exposed parts, while I had the perfect view of her breasts, which were now being accentuated by the rising sand. She was covered in sand, seawater and sweat. Her chest rose with her heavy breathing, settling slightly deeper into the sand each time. She looked at me with a slight glint in her eyes, watching me struggle to reach her. I got a good hold of her wrist and leaned back, allowing my body to settle with the sand's movement. Diana leaned forward too, allowing her body to fall forward through the thick, gloopy sand. Before her head and shoulders went all the way under, I got an arm around her chest.

"Careful there," she said in an uncharacteristically seductive voice. I had my hand firmly her breast. It was very squishy to say the least. I tried to be delicate, but with the slippery sand, I was more or less groping it continuously, unintentionally rubbing my palm and fingers over her nipple. She let out soft moans, which in turn encouraged me, subconsciously, to continue fondling. We were both chest-deep, anchored only by my straining arm to the ledge. Eventually I had to either let go of the ledge or let go of Diana. I released my grip on her tit. She quickly settled to her shoulders. She looked at me with wide eyes.

Now that we were closer to the solid ledge, I had another idea. I pulled myself onto the ledge, laid on my back and extended my legs out. My upper body acted as a counterbalance to Diana pulling herself out, stopping me from sinking back in. I hooked my feet under her armpits. It was much easier than I anticipated, and I catapulted her head into my groin. Luckily, there wasn't an awkward erection. I was much too focused on rescuing her for the male hormones to kick in.

"Take it easy," she gasped. "I'll give you a blowjob after you get me out."

I gulped. I had the self-control before, but that one comment opened the floodgates. She held on to my waist and began to haul herself up. I kept her from sinking by wrapping my legs around her waist. Her breasts brushed against my hardening penis, lubricated by the wet sand. It naturally found its way between her tits. Diana's torso rubbed up and down, fighting against the quicksand's grip to stay up - or was she doing it intentionally? I closed my eyes and tried to resist the sudden surge of pleasure through my manhood. It felt unbelievable. I was getting titty-fucked by my ex's sister. Concentrate, damn it.

After plenty of grunting and groaning, Diana broke the sand's suction and clawed her way up my torso, sliding her breasts up my chest. There was a brief moment of respite as she lifted herself off me, intending to climb over my lower body, but the slippery sand made her stumble. Then, somehow, it happened. Our bodies lubricated by the fine, wet sand, and aroused by our struggling, my hard penis slipped into her slit. The sudden warmth of her pussy made me subconsciously search deeper, and next thing I knew, I was inside her. It was momentarily painful - it was unintentional and misdirected - but then we were overwhelmed with intense gratification. I don't either of us were thinking of apologising. I was already so close to coming from her tits rubbing into me. The only thing that got me focused was the fact that I had lost my hold on the ledge and was sinking back down into the quicksand.

She was straddling me now, and her hips descended into the sucking sand, forming a seal that stopped us from prying free. Each movement sent ripples of pleasure through our bodies. We struggled, vainly perhaps, but the intensity overwhelmed us. We gave in to our primal desires. She held onto me, not to get out, but to steady herself as she slid up and down my penis. The added pressure of the quicksand made each thrust deeper, accentuated by the soft movements of the sand over our skin. It was unreal. Thoughts of escape left our minds. We sank until we reached our shoulders, standing upright in the shifting sand, pressed against each other. I was still inside her when I reached my peak, but I didn't care. I couldn't control my orgasm any more than I could control my fate. She too reached her climax and slumped against me, spent.

We later discovered that in our wild, spontaneous intercourse, we had been standing in the shallow part of the quicksand all along, but the way we tried to float on the surface made it feel a lot deeper. Once we stretched our legs out, we were only waist deep. We both blushed as we stood naked in front of each other. I took a moment to admire her breasts, glistening with sweat and sand. We laughed. After an awkward silence, we waded out of the quicksand. Something in me felt guilty about having just fucked my ex's sister. Should I be feeling guilty? The thoughts of facing Lisa and her family once more made me jittery, like I had spoiled the remaining daughter. I wasn't sure if it was something I wanted to pursue, or whether this was something that we should forget. For once, I dropped the façade of being the older brother and turned to Diana for a hint of advice.

"What if Lisa asks?"

Diana shrugged. With her hair down, she walked proudly towards where we left our clothes. "Don't tell her."