Hopeless Thirst

Introduction:

A woman I know asked me to make versions of my stories that she would enjoy. She doesn't like reading about women squirting (despite being a squirter herself, which is amusing). So, the only way for her to enjoy my stories, since that's key to all of them, is if I take the squirting out. I did it for "The Spirit of Water." It's called "The Spirit of Fire," and it turned out pretty good, I posted it if anyone is interested. It's a fun, sexy story, with no squirting at all.

She wants more, so I sat down with my story called "Thirst." I quickly ran into an issue though, and it turned into a joke pretty quickly. I still gave it to her to read, and she got a kick out of it. I hope readers on here do, too:

Hopeless Thirst

Chapter 1

When I was twenty-five I decided to do a trip to the desert. I wanted to find out the truth behind some rumors I'd heard about the area, so, I went. Alone. This was stupid. I ended up getting lost, and nearly dying. I showed up back in civilization with blistered skin, and cracked lips, and a simple story to tell: Everyone thinks I managed to find my way back before my water was spent, despite getting lost for a long time. I wish I was that smart. What actually happened is completely different. I share it here, as it's not something I've ever told anyone in person, not even my closest friends, but I wanted to put it down on paper, so that anyone who wanted to read the truth of what happened to me out there, could do so.

I was lost, wandering, in the heat, for a day. My phone had no service, and eventually, the battery died. I picked out landmarks, in the distance, but, as I got closer, they always turned out to be smaller rocks, that I had misjudged the size of, or mirages. I wasted precious time, and water, trudging through the sand, toward false images, and confused directions. I hated myself for not learning more about orienteering, having a better plan, or anything that would have prepared me to avoid this situation. At nightfall, I tried to use the north star to walk toward where I thought the nearest road was. As I walked, the temperature dropped, my teeth chattered, and I became exhausted. I started to wonder if this even was the north star. I gave up. I slept the freezing night, using some chemical hand warmers, and wrapped in an emergency blanket. The next day, my water ran out. I wandered for the rest of the day, and slept the same way again.

By the middle of the next day, I realized I was going to die. I was completely dehydrated, and people can only live three days without water. You may think you've been thirsty before. Sure, you've desired liquid, craved water, before. That is nothing like the deep, madness of true thirst. I would have drunk from anything. If I had seen a plump, round fruit, hanging on a cactus, with a drip of nectar oozing out, and dripping down between the folds of the fruit, even if I knew it was poisonous, and would only make things worse, while not being enough water to save me, I still would have drunk it. If someone else had been there, and tried to stop me, I'd have fought them, and gotten that fruit. True thirst will drive you insane, and nothing you could imagine would be the same as experiencing it. I was on day two. That was that. The day went by with more wandering, now stumbling, now falling to the ground, and then trudging on, doggedly, on my blistered feet.

Night fell again, and I slept, again, in the cold, using up the final hand warmers.

Upon sun up, I couldn't stand. My head was pounding, my lips were cracked and felt like they were on fire. I was dying. I barely moved that day, and mostly laid under my emergency blanket, stretched out with part of it pinned under two small rocks, on top of a larger one, and the other pinned to the sand, with other rocks, to make a kind of tent, to block the sun. As the sun set, and I dosed, I heard strange chanting. I knew my mind was playing tricks on me, out here, in the madness of this waterless waste, this desert of despair. Still, something told me to figure out what I was hearing, but I couldn't stay awake, and I lapsed into unconsciousness.

Chapter 2

I sensed I was being dragged somewhere. Finally I came to, and saw six women, all sitting around a camp fire, with several tents set up. They were discussing hurriedly what to do with me. I heard snatches of conversation. "...no more water, Priya!"

"Deepa, do you want him to die?"

"He's not our problem, but, he must have water, one way or another, Anjali. You have to set your feelings aside."

"We have to try."

"A man shouldn't even be here."

"...it's too dark, and too cold to go tonight, we'd get lost, and freeze."

And so on. I gathered that they had come out here as some kind of women's retreat. The plan was to drink all of their water, until they were very, very hydrated, and, then, to let that lack of water create the challenge of trekking back to civilization the next morning. It was some kind of water and fire ritual, a test of strength, which is why I'd heard chanting, previously. I was not welcome here, at all, as they were all gorgeous lesbians, and this was a women's only event. They had even left all technology behind, in order to truly be alone. Yet, they felt they couldn't just leave me to die. However, now they didn't know what to do. They were bitter at me for having put them in this situation. After a long argument, in which I said nothing, due to being half dead, and having totally lost my voice, they dragged me into the larger of the tents, which was warmed by several small heaters, laid me on a cot, and went out. I blacked out, accepting that I was going to die. They had no water, and no way out of the desert until morning.

Chapter 3

I was brought out of unconsciousness by a low feminine moan. I opened my eyes to see a vague shape right in front of my eyes. I smelled a pleasant must, but my eyes wouldn't focus enough for me to tell what it was, but something was definitely on top of me. Finally, my eyes cooperated, and I realized there was a pussy, inches from my face. It was dim, the only light came from an open tent flap that let in moonlight, and the fire light from outside the tent, but I could clearly see the fluffy hair outlining her pussy lips, and above that an amazing female form, a beautiful, feminine stomach, and low, full breasts, though I couldn't make out the shadowed face. I wanted to speak, but my throat felt destroyed. I saw her hand come down and start rubbing her clit, as she sat there, straddling my head. Then she fingered herself some, and then started rubbing vigorously. I lapsed into unconsciousness again.

Moaning brought me to once more. I couldn't figure out what was happening. My burning lips suddenly felt cool, and replenished. I could see she was still rubbing herself over me, and, as my eyes focused, I realized she was letting spit drizzle from her lips onto mine. I wondered if she was depraved. Was she simply taking advantage of the fact that a dying man was lying, helplessly, in a tent near her? Now she moaned deeply, shivering, and I could see some white female come drip out of her pussy. She pressed this into my lips, and then squeezed my lips open with her hand, so that she could rub her come directly into my mouth, and then, she spit into my mouth again. She was a sadist, I thought, and gets off on face fucking dying men. Her come tasted almost like sweet peppers, and I drank it along with her sweet tasting spit, instinctually, as it was liquid, and I was dying of thirst. But it just wasn't enough. Nowhere near. I needed at least a liter of liquid, and this was maybe a half ounce. Just some messed up, sadist chick, making me drink her come and spit for her own enjoyment, before letting me die.

I wanted to actually drink so badly, to swallow gulps of water, my thirst was so all encompassing, that what was happening to me didn't even matter.

As I watched this stunningly beautiful woman masturbate, I just felt bitter, and numb, and I fell unconscious yet again. More spit woke me up, and I opened my eyes to see her fingering herself, and then licking the cream off of her fingers, and then spitting it into my mouth again. Then she started rubbing her clit again, and making little, soft pleasure noises. Finally she moaned deep, and long. She arched her back, her breasts jutting out, bouncing over me, and her whole body shook, as she adjusted herself so that her pussy was directly over my mouth. Nothing happened, though. She was just masturbating on my face. I lapsed back into despair. They didn't have any water, I reminded myself. I was going to die.

She kept rubbing herself, and moaning more, and more. She came again, and rubbed the female cream dripping out of her pussy onto my lips. She adjusted herself, and looked like she was about to get up. Then she looked down at me, looking sad, for a moment, but then, she smiled, before closing her eyes. Next, she started fucking herself with one hand, wrapped around, from underneath her ass, fingers slamming in and out of her pussy, while she rubbed her clit extremely fast with the other hand. Finally, she yelled, and shivered, her whole body shaking, as her pleasure sounds came in gasps, as she thrust her hips forward, and began to come again. She finished, and smiled down at me, in an embarrassed way, and got up, and walked out of the tent.

I lay there, and could here an argument of some kind outside, between the women, but I couldn't make out many actual words. I could tell, though, that they were arguing about whether or not something should have been done, and there was a lot of anger, and rejection of whatever the idea was. I heard the name Jaya, repeatedly, and realized this was the woman who had just been using me for her masturbation enjoyment. I slept, yet again.

Without having had anything to drink, I couldn't really maintain consciousness of any coherency from then on. I think the rest of the women had an orgy, or something.

Since they had no water, though, eventually I died of thirst. I have no idea how you're even reading this. I guess my ghost has internet access and posted it after I died.

This is what happens when women don't squirt! People die of thirst!

The End.