An Afternoon with BriAnna

A man hires an escort so he can film her sinking in quicksand and then have some fun with her.

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“An Afternoon with BriAnna”

A 16 min 10 sec recording.

I got a call from a guy by the name of Benjamin that wanted me to do some escort and modeling work. He seemed like a nice guy, and was very generous. I arrived at his house in the country and enjoyed the sun. He met me at the end of his driveway, and he guided me to where I parked my Cadillac rental car that he had paid for. We walked inside, he carried my bags, and he showed me the huge house that he had just bought two months before.

Now I have done some different fetish work before, but this was the first time I had ever had someone ask for me to be in quicksand. I mean, isn’t quicksand supposed to be a death trap? Inescapable? You step in it and sink for ever? Even before I agreed to come out here, I had asked these same questions. But he agreed with me, and reassured me that this is all Hollywood , and old wives tales. He had this fetish for a long time and thought the same thing, but he showed me lots of DVDs of girls in quicksand, wearing sneakers, bare feet, boots, and high heels. He then told me that he just wanted to see a big bust model in the same situation. Modeling and acting in my own movies, and being an Escort, allowed me be a very good actor, role playing in different ways, and really enjoying the moment and having a blast as much as possible.

After seeing the DVDs, some web sites that had been updated, and just getting into the “Damsel in Distress” mindset, we walked out to the beach where I was to do my acting.

“I was hoping for a lot of ‘Cheesecake posing’ while you are pretending to be stuck. The more you move you legs, the faster you’ll sink, but that will play into the struggling that you character is doing,” Benjamin said. “But with the human body being much less dense than wet sand, a person will sink to just to about their rib cage. You float in water, right? A brick, on the other hand will sink out of site; water, mud, real quicksand. So, do you get the Idea? To be honest about this, I want to be the rescuer, ok, I don’t have a “death” fetish thing at all. Once a woman’s breasts disappear, I actually loose interest, but seeing quicksand actually pushing up your breasts would be great; kind of like a bustier, you know?”

I was still a bit apprehensive about doing this until he showed me the real site. It was a sandy beach that right next to a beautiful lake with lots of trees bordering his property. With it being a work day, there were no boaters or people on water skis. The sand was been firm, and it left my foot prints. Pointed toes left a slight impression, but the heels were a little bit deeper. We stood there and nothing happened.

We walked on to the sand and he showed me that it would support our weight, when the underground hose was turned on the sand would liquefy, and I would start to sink. He put a cement brick that had a rope tied to it, down on the sand, went to a large faucet handle and turned the hose on. Looking back at the brick, I saw water starting to ooze up and flow around the brick. And the brick started to sink into the wet sand. He dragged the brick out and grabbed a seven foot wood pole, and pushed it down into the sand. It had markings every foot on it and he was only able to push it four feet into the sand. Ok, so it’s not all that deep. Hmm. I still had the option of declining this part of the modeling, and escort job. But…Ok.

“Ok, Benjamin. I’ll do this. Can I rinse off in the lake too?”

“Sure, but I have a shower on the deck where you could rinse off,” he said. “The sand is really like beach sand and rinses off real easy.”

“Ok, Great. What outfit would you like me to start off with?”

“I was thinking the bikini and heels would be fantastic.”

“Then the bikini it is.”

The bikini was a small black one with a matching thong. There were little roses embroidered with red and green into the fabric near the string that supports the top. The thongs also had the roses but on the sides of the front panel. The High Heels were black patent leather; very shiny and very high with a pointed toe and looked like they came from the 1960’s. They were something Benjamin had picked out and had sent to me. They fit like a dream and were very comfortable. The bikini top was very small; so small that they just barely covered my nipples. The bottoms were the same; they barely covered me down there. I would have to be careful and not get a sun burn on my breasts where I have my tan lines.

“Benjamin, would you help me for a moment? I want to put some sun block on.”

“I would love to. I’ll be honest BriAnna; I was hoping to give you a massage any way, but putting sun block on would be great. Besides, if you also put baby oil on, it helps with the clean up, and it just plain looks great.” He approached and I could smell his cologne. “You smell absolutely wonderful, almost intoxicating.”

“Thank you,” I cooed. I could tell why he had asked Busty BriAnna to do this. He was trying to keep his composure as he slid his oiled fingers up and down my cleavage.

“So… what does the GFE experience really offer? I mean; how much of a girlfriend would you be?” he asked.

I chuckled a bit and said; “We’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” and reached up and kissed his cheek. I guess that didn’t help matters much as he was still trembling.

So after he massaged the sun block and oil into my skin, I walked over to a group of trees where he wanted me to start, where I was to walk towards the sand. As I anticipated walking on to the sand, I felt a bit apprehensive; my heart was in my throat.

“Are you ok? I’ll turn the hose on, if you are,” Ben asked.

“I’m fine. When ever you’re ready.”

“Okay,” he said, “here we go, then.”

I strided away from the trees and stepped nimbly out to the edge of the sandbar. “Enjoy, Benjamin.”

I could feel my pulse thumping in my neck. I was quivering and breathing hard. I never thought I’d ever do this in real life.

The surface buckled and cracked but I didn’t immediately start sinking. I took two more steps and the sand broke beneath my weight, and my black high heel shoes slowly started sinking into the sand.

“Ooh, what’s this? No, it can’t be. Is this quicksand? Oh no, Help. Help me,” I whimpered in my best damsel in distress voice.

The quicksand was swallowing my ankles and calves slowly. I slowed very little as I got in up to my knees. The ripples spread out around me in, large, slow undulations as I moved my legs up and down to simulate me struggling. I looked down at the quicksand as it rose up to claim me, and then glanced up at Ben with a sultry look.

“Is this what you’re looking for, Benjamin?” My voice was husky. “Ooh, it feels like a loofa. I’m sinking. I’m sinking in the quicksand. It’s sucking me under . . .” This was all theatrical, of course, a bunch of melodramatic dialogue for his benefit, but he was buying it. “Ooh no, look: I’m up to my thighs. Help me, won’t someone help me.” I continued the cheesecake posing; chest thrust out to accentuate my breasts, butt sticking out, and knees flexed. When I pulled one leg out, the other would go back in even deeper. I sank even farther. When I got down to my crotch and it touched me, I got a bit of a surprise, and gasped for breath.

“Whoa, this is a bit chilly against me, there.”

Since my breasts were barely being contained by the too small bikini anyway, and I had taken such a deep breath, one of the strings had snapped loose, and as if on command, I had a wardrobe malfunction.

“Ooh, my top. It’s busted.” I kinda giggled. “This is just mot my day,” I whimpered as I continued to sink into the quicksand.

The left side of the top where the string was had slipped and fallen down and exposed my breast.

I continued to struggle and shimmy my way deeper and deeper into the shifting sand. My hips disappeared, and then my abs. My new workout program had given me my 6 pack abs again, but with my legs continuing to move up and down in the dense sand, I felt this would be a great work out too.

The quicksand and my struggling allowed me to sink still further. I wanted to keep my arms up as it accentuated my breast and added to the cheesecake posing. Soon enough, my breasts were touching the surface of the wet sand.

“Help me, some one. Help me. I sinking in quicksand,” I added for effect.

I started to slow my decent and soon found myself floating, just like Benjamin had said. I was floating and the quicksand was actually pushing my breasts up like a natural bustier. I always had lots of cleavage, so I had even more now. My breasts were being pushed up so far that they were bulging slightly at the top. Then I thought of my now busted bikini top. With nothing holding the other the other side up, so I thought about using the top to “help” me get out of the quicksand. I reached behind me a pulled the string that was tied in a bow, and when it came undone, used it as a rope to try and rescue myself.

“Oh my God, BriAnna. That was absolutely fantastic!!!” Benjamin said. “Here, let me help you get out.”

He walked over from where he was sitting and shut the water hose off. When he got over to me he gave me a bottle of water after opening the cap.

With the water turned off, the sand started to firm up and he was able to walk on it with out sinking. I held my arms up for him to grab me, and looked up into his eyes. He wrapped his arms under mine, and around my back, and pulled me straight up out of the formerly “deadly” quicksand. I giggled as I wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled my feet out of the wet sand. He swung me over to the side a little and set me down. I knew that he was happy with the results; he couldn’t stop with, “That was great. I have never seen anything like that. That was fantastic.” So I knew I had another satisfied fan.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up,” Benjamin said.

“So this shower on the deck, how private is it…Benjamin?” I asked.

“No one is around for miles, BriAnna. There is a privacy fence around the deck as it had a hot tub there. I have some outdoor furniture there now, until I get a new hot tub installed. I also figured you could finish up inside in the master bath if you wish.”

“That would be nice. Would you like to join me in the shower out here? It is a beautiful day.”

The look in his eyes said everything. He had been dying for this and now it was finally happening. I leaned forward, pulled his head down and gave him a nice long slow kiss. He responded like I knew he would. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. I could feel his eagerness.

“Come on, my hero. Let’s take a shower. This damsel in distress needs to get washed off.” After we showered together, we talked a lot, had Chinese delivered, and decided that I would spend the night. He had no problems with making it worth while. I could tell that he was moved by my performance, and I thanked him for his honesty in sharing his fantasy.

I left the next morning, and went back home to New York City . I though about how we all have different interests, and wondered what else was out there. But I couldn’t get over the fact that someone was interested in a Big Busted Model Who Would Wear High Heel Shoes and Sink In Quicksand. That was a new one.


The above story was written by a client of mine for a custom recording they wanted made. I did not write it, nor do I claim to. I asked for permission to post it and was told I could for others to enjoy it. No one else has permission to copy it or post it.