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Real life story, and the main reason why quicksand fascinates and arouses me even to this day: I was working with a contractor for the U.S. Air Force in 1992 at San vito AB in the heel of the boot of Italy. Because of all the politicians floating hot checks at the time, I was told I had to take a personal finance class. I had no idea where it was being held and as the base was a skeleton crew the majority of buildings were mothballed. I went to the only place still open; the library. I started a casual conversation, a nice joke and compliment later the librarian informed me that the girl behind me was going there. I turned about. She seemed a bit husky, maybe even a little fat, the dull purple sweatpants material sweater was puffy and rumpled. Her face was pretty and we seemed to both be just under 20. I wasn't totally into her, but I made small talk nonetheless. She walked me to the classroom and I kept sharing jokes with her. When we had arrived and she was going to leave I quipped, "We should hang out at the beach together sometime." She surprised me with a quick peck on the cheek. I was stunned and my mouth hung open as she said, "Yeah" and left. Now the Aegean sea was only 6km away, a little over 3 miles and I could run there in 15 minutes at the time. My body was much closer to Sagi Kalev in appearance then. The beach was as white as baby powder, the ocean as clear as glass, but two things ruined it; 1. occasionally medical waste to include needles washed up on the shore. the beach was cleaned often, but so many would find needles and broken glass "The hard way" we were forbade from swimming in the ocean. 2. Italian men have no shame. I witnessed guys hitting on a dudes wife, trying to hold her hand... and the husband was right there! Italian dudes aren't romantic, they are quite, rapey. That weekend in the morning I had finished my morning run to the beach and began my work out. I don't waste money on gym memberships. Self-discipline starts with "self", and if you can regularly visit a gym - you should workout at home. Sometime passed, and I had finished my work out. time to go back to my dorm for a shower. She arrived in a blue station wagon with picnic supplies in the back. She was wearing her sweat pants gear again, and we chatted for a bit. The beach was too crowded, so she asked me to go with her to her private spot a few miles down the road. I said yes and got into her car. We passed a few trailer parks, the illegal migrant workers were a taboo subject and a political thorn for the Italian people. Perhaps this was the reason why her private spot was so... private. no one around. It was a plateau about 50ft above the shoreline, with many stunted trees and shrubs. She removed her sweats revealing a string bikini with bits that seemed too small for her. I was taken aback, it was like suddenly discovering that you were dating tiffani amber theisen only her feminine swells were larger and proud. That's why she dressed like she did - to hide her body. We had a light lunch; egg salad sandwiches, crackers with a sharp cheddar, grape capri-sun baggies, and such. She tossed me one of her favorite novels to read as we relaxed; the sun, the shade, the sand... the soft wind. all of it "Perfect". Suddenly she Bopps me right on the nose, giggles, "You're it." and is off running through the trees. I chase after her, I am catching up... I notice these odd 1ft wide holes in the ground ever so often, odd junk is tossed in as if to plug the holes- like a child's tricycle. water is still flowing up from bellow but vanishing into the ground a few feet away. It gives me pause for thought, but as I was chasing her I didn't stop or take time to think. I am right behind her, I stretch out to catch her shoulder. We run into a sandy clearing, The ground starts to bounce like a water bed... Suddenly we are both in quicksand just over our knees and nothing seems to be within reach. Having watched too much TV we both start trying to reach a tree branch over head. Our hopping up and down only makes things worse. we are sinking inch by inch. She decides to reach for a small shrub by bending over at the hips. She grunts as she lunges with the effort, but the sand forces her back into my hips over and over again. She moans with despair as we continues to fail to find a way to escape. She loses her balance and catches herself by thrusting her hands down... trapping her arms in the quicksand. The fear, the panic, and the closeness to her mostly bare body has fueled my arousal in ways I have never again been able to summon. With a slight finger tug, I open one side of her bikini bottom. She turns her head, looking back at me with a gasp of surprise... then she nods at me. "I don't want to die a virgin"... I try to be gentle for a while, when she demands "give me more"... From there things get a lot more frenetic as we keep sinking, and something happens. our motions loosen the sand, churning it into a liquid. we change positions a few times as I purposely propel her with each thrust to firm ground, sand that isn't trapping us like fast drying concrete or ravenously sucking us down to underground channels of fast flowing water. Laying on the shore we make love several times until exhaustion wins out. It is dark when we find our picnic spot and load the car. She drives me back to the base. She tells me that we have to keep this a secret; too many others already look at her "The wrong way". We keep dating and we keep having sex in secret. I am pulled into the office by my boss one day. He tells me, "You're going home, now. You're fired. That girl you've been out with is general soandso's daughter. Just be glad that one: She's over eighteen, and Two: She said she took advantage of you... otherwise you'd be going to jail for at least twenty years. Pack, Your plane leaves in two hours. How could you fuck some general's daughter on an INTELLIGENCE base, and think you wouldn't be caught?" I never got to see her ever again. that experience though, is seared into my mind for ever. When there is a quicksand scene on TV or at the movies; with all the moaning, groaning, grunting, and struggling... I am reminded of her, of our moments together.