The Fishing Trip


Editor’s note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.


Maybe 13’s an unlucky number. I don’t know. But it sure was unlucky for me, my 11 buddies and a guide.

Chuck planned the trip. We met up in northern Canada, somewhere wild near Vancouver Island, in time for the Salmon run. It was early December. The skies were clear. The air was crisp. The nights were chilly.

We had a week to fish and camp with a few days on either side to get back to the States.

It was our third night. We had gotten there early, or the run was late. Either way there were no fish. We went to bed having dined only on bread and side dishes. We were supposed to be having Salmon for the main course.

The next morning we woke up to two very unfortunate surprises. The first was that there had been an unexpected ice storm which had covered absolutely everything in a layer of ice. The second was that someone had left all the food in two of the canoes then left them to float away.

None of us were used to going without eating, so by lunchtime there was a lot of grumbling. By dinner food was the constant topic of conversation, broken up only by occasional talk of pussy.

It took 14 famished days before the planes cane to rescue us. Each of us lost pounds and pounds. One of us died.

We learned a lot of “facts” from each other. I don’t know how accurate these facts were but everybody had some to share. Arturo started, “You can go a week without food but only three fuckin’ days without water.”

Stu told us, “A grown man needs 2500 calories a day but every bit helps postpone the day he starves to death. That’s why we gotta eat every shit, dried sap, rotting meat, whatever.” I reflected that I was the leanest in the group, how was I gonna make it?

Our guide took charge right away organizing hunting and foraging parties, and manning the radio. The groups were expending a lot of energy traipsing off into the woods and bringing only a few hundred calories a day back. The biggest prize of all was a frozen vole.

We had tents, chairs, and while finding wood under the all encompassing ice was a challenge, we managed to keep a fire going.

Chuck and I were on an excursion alone one day. Our job was to look for anything edible, but specifically for anything that had been killed by the cold snap since the storm, these dead animals would be on top of the ice rather than under it.

Chuck was babbling on about how he missed sex with his wife: He was spouting off, “I could really use some sweet pussy. Even if it is only ever Missionary. That resentful wife of mine hasn’t given me a blowjob in a year. Is it too much to ask? Two measly teaspoons of cum and she acts like it’s gonna kill her. Surely she could swallow two teaspoons! And she never gives up the ass…”

What he really needed was to keep his mind off the maddening emptiness in the pit of his stomach. I have to admit, my thoughts were about food pretty much all day long.

When he was saying “teaspoons” and “swallowing” I only thought about what I would give to have teaspoons of anything to swallow. It could be bug juice for all I cared. But alas we couldn’t even find bugs.

We had been walking around on the crunchy ice for about three hours when Chuck stopped dead in his tracks. He stood completely frozen for a time just staring absently into a tree.

I was worried he had spied a mountain lion. At the same time I was wondering, if we could catch and eat it?

Well, of course, it wasn’t a lion. It was a tiny piece of heaven – or so I hoped. Looking where he pointed I could see the brown rectangular outline of a Hershey’s chocolate bar, framed against the blue ice, maybe thirty impossible feet up the tree.

Could there be chocolate in it? More likely an empty wrapper was blown there. It didn’t matter, we were going to get it! We just had to decide who was going to climb the giant pine tree.

Chuck said, “I climb the tree, I get two-thirds.” Apparently we had already decided not to bring it back to share. I looked at that wrapper and the only thing I could think was that there were 210 calories in a Hershey bar. I knew this because my wife constantly counted calories in everything. Everything!

I didn’t want to risk life and limb for the tiny chance there would be any calories in that ice trapped tree. Neither did Chuck.

First we debated. Then Chuck needed to piss. Then we debated while he was pissing. Lastly, Chuck looked over his shoulder and said, “If piss were beer I’d drink it.”

I answered back pointing at his stream, “If piss were beer I’d drink that right now – straight from the tap.”

As I was saying this something my wife once told me popped up in my mind: Semen had twenty-five calories per teaspoon. There were fifty calories right there in front of me right now. Surely it had to be better than bug juice.

Without thinking it through, in a shaky hesitant voice I said, “Chuck…if you climb sariyer escort that tree… and there’s chocolate…I get it all…but before you climb that tree…you get…a blowjob.

Chuck looked up that tree at that wrapper then down at his penis. He didn’t say a word. He turned toward me and started jacking himself. It grew hard as a rock in the cold wind. I estimated it to be about five inches and pretty thick.

I dropped to my knees saying, “Let’s get this over with.” Really, I wanted to get some ‘food’ into my stomach as fast as possible. I stopped him just before he started so I could move my scarf over my eyes. There was no reason I needed to watch it happen too.

The scarf was a great idea too ’cause It was a nasty looking thing. It curved to one side and downward too. It was pale pink with flecks of dried skin on it. None of us had had a shower or even changed our underwear in five days and it smelled like it.

I put my hands on Chuck’s thighs to steady myself. Likewise he put his hands on my head. I opened wide, devouring, and pulling that little morsel into my unfed mouth as quickly as I could. Chuck moaned from the moment of first contact and kept moaning throughout.

I sucked hard and ravenously. I rocked back and forth at a steady rapid pace trying to extract his cream. It was only maybe five minutes when he warned me he was going to spurt. It seemed like he was going to pull out so I moved my hands to the back of his legs and held tight. It wouldn’t do to go to all this disgusting effort and not be nourished.

I swear the man must not have cum in a month. The shots rocketed out with such force I could feel them gloriously hitting the back of my mouth. Worried I might miss some ejaculate, I moved my hand to his sausage squeezing and milking every savory drop.

To my nutrient deprived mouth it tasted like the gooey delicious melted gold in the center of a grilled cheese sandwich. It was scrumptious!

Chuck slipped and fell to his butt on the ice. I just swallowed repeatedly making sure to ingest all of the sustaining tonic.

After a minute I joked to break the ice, “You should put that away before you get frostbite.”

When he was done he looked up in that tree announcing simply and without apology, “I ain’t gonna climb it.” It made sense.

Turning toward camp I asked him how much he would pay to get one of the other guys to climb the tree. We both welcomed a change of topic. Chuck proclaimed with authority as if he were sure, “A candy bar is worth two hundred dollars right now.”

As we were walking back to camp I matter of factly stated, “When we get home you owe me two hundred dollars.”

He nodded, “Of course, Buddy.”

That night huddled around the fire I couldn’t control my thoughts. I kept looking at the packages of twelve other men knowing there was a total of six hundred calories just going to waste.

Early the next morning Chuck asked me if I wanted to go see if that chocolate bar was still there. Frank overheard, his ears perking up instantly.

The three of us trudged out to the tree. We kept on about how it might have fallen to the ground. It couldn’t stay there forever.

We were all sorely disappointed. Frank couldn’t believe his eyes. He must have repeated the words, “A fucking chocolate bar.” a hundred times. However, nothing we said could get him to climb the tree.

I didn’t care that Frank was there. I wanted either a chocolate bar or some nutritious baby gravy and I didn’t care who knew. Turning to Chuck I said casually, “You climb the tree and I’ll blow you.” Frank actually seemed to think that was reasonable, nodding his head in approval of the offer.

Chuck agreed. I sucked him off with Frank watching and I enjoyed his sperm-laden protein-filled treat more than I have ever enjoyed any meal in my life.

Chuck, again, refused to climb the tree. On the walk back he simply asked, “So I owe you another two hunner?” Frank picked up that there was more to the story and wanted to know the details. Chuck explained that yesterday we made the same deal. Frank listened solemnly.

Half way back, the three of us were resting against a large fallen tree. Frank put his hand on my shoulder then asked, “Can I owe you two hundred also?”

I didn’t care if I looked eager. I was between his legs faster than he could have said, “Pepperoni Pizza.”

He fished in and pulled out his delectable cock. It was oily and stank like tuna and I didn’t give a flying fuck. If anything, the tuna smell made it more palatable.

I didn’t wait for him to get hard. I jumped on it. I sucked the only edible thing for a hundred miles into my needy mouth lickety-split. I gobbled and slurped. I couldn’t wait to eat. Up and down I bobbed trying to drink that wholesome cum. He grew to six or seven inches. I hoped bigger cocks had bigger loads.

When he came he pulled on my head jamming it deep. It hurt bouncing off my tonsils but I didn’t mind. eskort He groaned and I sighed with his big shooting penis head still in my mouth. Looking back on it I suppose he thought I sighed because I enjoyed sucking cock. He didn’t know I sighed because any small amount of nourishment caused feelings of contentment to wash over me.

I truly felt more energized after those loads. I was going to sneak off to the woods any chance I got with either one or both sperm donors.

On the frozen trail again, Frank intoned under his breath, “Let’s do it again soon.”

Chuck, breathing heavily, added, “Everyday.” There was no need for me to answer. Trudging along on the ice required all my energy and we all knew we were gonna do it.

That night around the fire the talk was all about either food, or sex. We talked about food because we were obsessed. We talked about sex keep our minds off food.

The guys started sharing about what they would give for a hamburger, or a beer, or a stinkin’ potato.

Next we pondered how much we would pay for pussy or a BJ.

Arturo complained, “That’s all hypothetical bullshit, no one damn well knows what anyone would pay for anything.

Then Frank countered, “I know for a fact that under the present circumstances a candy bar is worth a blowjob.” The group laughed uproariously for the first time in days.

There was much debate, for at least half an hour. Most said the candy bar was worth more than a blowjob. Finally, Toot stabbed his finger in the air, pointing at Frank, “Just how the fuck do you know as a fact that a fuckin’ candy bar is worth a fuckin’ blowjob?”

Frank and Chuck exchanged glances then, shared the story of the candy bar in the tree and for a while everybody only wanted to talk about the candy bar in the tree. It was agreed that the whole group would make a pilgrimage to the candy tree first thing next morning.

Upon more questioning they spilled the beans about me blowing Chuck for the rights to the candy bar, and settling for two hundred. No one seemed to judge me. If anything they were down on Chuck for not honoring his word. In the end we all agreed that Frank was right, a candy bar was equal to a blowjob.

Meanwhile, I had a secret and I wasn’t going to explain myself for fear I would lose my access to succulent boy batter. Better to be thought of as gay, or bi, or whatever, than to lose one drop of life-giving spoo.

In my daydreams I had visions of cocks extruding Boston Creme donut filling whenever I thought of cum. At night I couldn’t sleep.

That night I lay awake in my tent with a gnawing pain in my stomach. I yearned for the next chance I would get with Frank or Chuck. Between the two of them that would be one hundred precious calories per day! I was definitely hooked on their yummy cum.

I heard the zipper to my tent come down very stealthily. I breathed into the darkness, “Chuck?”

It was Brandon, he whispered,”Can I owe you a candy bar?” How exciting! A third dude was going to feed me.

I would have blown him for free right then but I preferred for the guys to think I was doing it for the money lest they ever discover the real reason. I answered, “That’d be real nice. You can write a check when we get back.”

He crawled in, then knelt by my head. It was blacker than licorice in there, but I could tell by the sounds and ripe smells when he was ready.

I turned my head sideways wolfing down his tasty dick with my insatiable mouth. As soon as it was inside Brandon leaned in to me. My hands were in my sleeping bag so I was helpless to assist in any way. It was half hard when he poked it into me, then it filled out the rest of the way. He was bigger in both length and width compared to the other two.

He fucked my mouth in the dark for a long time. I was unable to speak or stop him even if I had wanted to. My aching stomach growled making me crave that juice more. After a bit he lifted my head cradling it in his arms but still jamming into me.

When he came he kept sliding his giant slimy hot dog back and forth for the first flavorful spurts, then held still at the end. I locked my hungry lips around the crown sucking hard. I loved the hugh fountain that was draining into my gullett. I wished he could have provided me with a second serving. On the way out I heard his sheepish voice, “Thanks, Man.”

I was visited by Michael ten minutes later. Mike sat on my chest jabbing and grunting loud enough for everyone to hear. He fed me his nectar in like, thirty seconds, I licked my lips careful to get it all.

The next day We all came back from the candy tree empty handed. No one was willing to risk the perilous climb for what we all knew in our hearts was an empty wrapper.

We all sat forlorn in a circle around the low-spirited fire. John said what I’m sure at least a few were thinking. He didn’t introduce the idea with any prelude. It just came right out of the blue, “Scotty should blow us all right beyoglu escort now.” He spoke like it was some necessary consolation.

It was determined, without consulting me, that I would go around the circle, or anyone could take me to my tent, for two hundred a pop. They etched a contract onto an oar, planning to scratch marks to keep track of each man’s blowjobs.

From then on I blew all twelve guys at least once a day gaining about fifty calories each blowie until we were saved.

On that first round I enjoyed sucking all those cocks but none more than when it was Johnson’s turn who coincidentally had the biggest Johnson and the biggest loads. It was super long, like summer sausage, and he liked to yank on my head until unbelievably he worked the squishy member down my throat.

The first time his naked cock touched my lips all the guys came close to watch in awe.

I went to kneel but Johnson grabbed me by the shoulders telling me to wait. He looked me in the eye. Very clearly with a commanding aire he said, “You’re gonna resist and fight or I won’t be able to finish.” That was enough to convince me. I needed his cum. I just nodded.

He pushed down on my shoulders but when I started to kneel again, he made a disapproving noise. Understanding, I pushed up with my knees, struggling back, while he pushed down.

He came closer to me wrapping his arm around my head wrestling me down. I hit the ground just a little harder than I intended to, banging my knee. Once I was down there he rubbed my face against the front of his snow pants. I sensed something in there but never suspected till a few minutes later how big it would be.

He started saying nasty things like, “Suck it you dirty whore.” (I didn’t care – I was too hungry) and, “You’re my bitch now.”

He opened his fly saying, “Here it comes, Stacie.” I didn’t know nor care who Stacie was. I guess part of his fantasy. He lowered his underwear causing Arturo to gasp at the size of his meat stick. This is what caused the others to come watch.

The monster salami was half the length of my forearm, soft. He stroked it, then rubbed it on my face to get it hard. He spoke to the audience, “Guys, she’s gonna swallow all eleven when I’m done with her. It’s gonna be the best blowjob in or outa porn you’ve ever witnessed.”

I was delirious in a cum hungry trance for every cock by that river. I wanted and needed all their cocks, but for a moment I considered starving to death. I looked up in fear. He said, “That’s right, be afraid. Every girl is until I teach them. And I’m gonna teach you. In no time you’ll swallow it to the balls and love it. It’ll stretch a little but these big nuts have been saving a gallon for a week.”

Any thought of true resistance dissipated when he said “gallon”. How many calories in a gallon of cum? I started calculating in my head. Three teaspoons in a tablespoon…Sixteen cups in a gallon…I didn’t know, but it was a lot.

He rubbed it on my lips which I obediently refused to open. He hissed, “Take it Cunt, take it!” With his thumb he pried my lips apart pushing the tip inside. I pretended to turn my head creating the situation where he had to grab my hair to hold me in place. It didn’t work. His cock was so long he needed one hand to point it at my mouth leaving only one hand to control me.

He told a couple of the guys to hold me still. They were unwilling to do it. Breaking character for a second I yelled out to them, “Fucking hold me down already!” Pete and Toot stepped up grabbing me by the shoulders and head.

It was a magnificent cock. The urge to impale my whole throat on it was intense. I imagined the head of his cock being physically in my stomach depositing food directly where I needed it.

Ultimately, I would get my lunch faster by fighting.

Once Johnson got the head past my lips he kept up a slow relentless push without ever withdrawing. He ordered me to take a deep breath just before reaching the back of my mouth. It lengthened significantly but didn’t get all that hard.

He said, “Push the slut down, push her,” at the moment that it plugged me.

I choked. I gagged. When my body started to wretch I feared if I threw up I would lose some of the other guys’ energizing cum. I fought the urge to vomit, being highly motivated.

My lips were stretched obscenely around the baguette that only got wider at the base. Johnson wrapped both hands behind my neck and pulled. I felt the big head go past the entrance to my esophagus.

To keep myself going I focused on thoughts of a gallon of cum.

I needed the that seed. I pushed against his legs then pounded on them in a mock resistance. He absolutely loved it. “Yea, Baby, its big and its fucking you right down to your tummy. I’m going to give you so much cum it’ll fill you up and spill out.” The imagery was too great. I had to have it. I needed this beautiful cock to gift me a year’s worth of thick slimy cum.

I was so fucking hungry. How could I get it sooner? With an Oscar worthy performance I thrashed and jerked against my captors. Getting vocal I gave out a muffled shout with a cock reaching way down my throat. Not being able to breathe I also needed it to finish now!