Precious Resources

Petra blinked. She blinked again. She couldn't lie. "Well, no, but-"

Ingrid shook her head. "Well it doesn't always taste great, but my husband has a good diet and his is always sweet." She said proudly. "I really think, if you're ever going to try it, you might as well try it now because it won't get any less painless than this."

Petra debated. She seemed to be in a staring contest with the one-eyed monster in front of her. Finally, her mouth opened a little. Henry's eye bulged at the little hole in the tent.

Mrs. Wagner smiled. She put her hand gently behind Petra's neck, and eased her towards the pulsing muscle in front of her.

Mr. Wagner took his cock in hand and started stroking. Petra waited, kneeling in front of it, a look of mixed emotions on her face. Ingrid's hand went to her husband's massive balls and squeezed them, coaxing his seed out. Suddenly his hips bucked.

"Open your mouth." Ingrid whispered insistently. Petra's lips parted wide.

A thick stream of semen jetted out of Mr. Wagner's cock. The white rope of honey spilled into Petra's mouth, leaving a little trail down her chin.

"Keep it open, there's more. Don't waste it." Ingrid said, her hand still on Petra's neck. Petra obediently kept her mouth open. Mr. Wagner kept stroking, and another ivory plume spilled forth between her waiting lips. Then another, and another. Soon Petra's small mouth was full, and the cum dribbled down one cheek.

"Hurry, swallow, there's more." Mrs. Wagner said, apparently knowing her husband's volume. Petra gulped once, and hurriedly opened her mouth again. A final big shot of cum leaped onto her tongue, and that was it.

Petra closed her eyes, rolling the cum around in her mouth. She swallowed slowly. Her eyes opened, and she had a look of happy surprise on her face.

"It tastes good." She said. Ingrid smiled. Petra couldn't seem to believe it. "And...it's a total turn-on." She added in wonder.

Petra leaned forward, a hungry look in her eyes. She lifted Mr. Wagner's deflating member into her mouth, and sucked hard, licking and pulling on it with her lips. Ingrid sat back with a satisfied look on her face.

"That's all there is?" Petra asked, half-joking. She licked her lips, her voice filled with a real yearning. "I want more."

Mr. Wagner was about to say something, but Ingrid cut in, flashing a look at her husband. She could tell he had enjoyed the lesson a little too much for her taste.

"Well, I'm afraid that's all the milk you're going to get from this cow, he's mine." Ingrid said firmly. "But I think you know of a young man nearby who'd be happy to feed you if you're hungry." Ingrid said.

Petra smiled, understanding. If only they knew how 'nearby' I was, Henry thought. Probably best that they don't.

He watched the two hug as Mr. Wagner pulled up his pants.

Henry realized he better get back to his tent. He carefully pushed the flap of material back down, hoping nobody would notice, and headed back through the dark.

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Once in his tent, Henry stripped down to get into his sleeping bag.

Before he got in, however, he stood there, he toned body naked in the cold air of the tent, remembering the scene. He imagined he was Mr. Wagner, standing there, with Petra's mouth on his cock. His hand went absently to his erection, and he stroked the length a little.

He remembered her small, tight frame, hunched on her knees, dwarfed by the huge bear of a man and his cock in front of her. He felt jealousy, but also lust. His hand continued to massage his swollen member, his other hand caressing his balls.

Suddenly he was coming. He tried to hold it back, straining, but hot white semen squirted out of his contracting penis. It spilled onto the canvas floor in a few large squirts, and then dribbled out of the head.

Henry laughed. He could almost hear Mrs. Wagner admonishing him. "Now, now, this is exactly what I'm talking about. Terrible." She'd say.

Then he heard footsteps outside. Oh no! Petra was coming. Henry threw his backpack down to cover the spot on the floor and leaped into his sleeping bag. A moment later the zipper to his tent was creaking, and a dark silhouette appeared against the night sky.

"Hey, you awake?" Petra whispered.

"Yeah, come in." Henry said. Petra closed the flaps behind her. She flopped onto his big down sleeping bag and pulled him in for a deep kiss. She tasted like toothpaste. Henry smiled.

Then he felt her hands sliding down his belly, searching. He felt his limp penis dribble a little cum onto his leg. He realized suddenly the position he was in. Petra had come for a 'snack', and he was fresh out. His mind raced.

"Hey, whoah. Not right now." Henry said. Petra stopped.

"Why?" she asked. He thought and thought.

"Well, maybe later. I'm just feeling really tired. Today took a lot out of me."

"Are you serious?" She asked, disbelieving. "Come on, I want to do something for you. Something special." She said. Henry pulled her searching hands out of the sleeping bag.

"I'm interested, believe me." He tried willing his cock into erection, but it was still in shock. Being nervous about her realizing what he had just done wasn't helping. "Maybe come back later?" He asked hopefully. Petra realized he was serious.

"Oh." She said, feeling disappointment. Her body had discovered a new appetite, and she was eager to fulfill it. "Well okay. But it's almost curfew, and I might not be able to sneak over." She said, trying to sway him. Curfew was supposedly to keep the campers from getting attacked by wild animals, bears and mountain lions and the like, but most knew it was also to prevent too much hanky panky between the camps.

"Well, if not tonight, then come back tomorrow night. Promise?" Henry said.

"Alright." Petra understood, and shelved her disappointment. She gave him a deep kiss and headed off into the night.

Henry lay down, breathing easier.

Then he saw a flashlight waving around outside. Voices. He got up and peeked through the tent flaps.

A little ways away, Richard was talking to Petra. Henry's stomach tightened; he thought maybe Richard was going to try and get her in trouble.

"I'm just heading to the bathroom." He said, waving his flashlight around.

"Oh, yeah? I was just...getting a snack before heading to bed." Petra said. She started to walk off. Richard changed his direction.

"Well let me walk you back. You should really have a flashlight, you know." He chided. His voice grated on Henry's nerves. The flashlight receded.

Henry didn't think Petra would do anything with Richard, but all the same he decided that he should go check on her in a little while. He lay back down.

Henry thought again about the night's events, and eventually felt his cock coming back to life. He planned on getting get up to go pay a visit to Petra in a few minutes.

He closed his eyes, and started fantasizing about what would happen when he got to her tent.

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Sunlight streamed into the tent through the open flaps. What time was it? Henry groped for his watch. Then he remembered Petra, and how he'd meant to go and visit her the night before. Damn it! He blew his chance.

He cursed himself as he got dressed, but then remembered that there was always tonight. And all the nights after tonight.

No biggie. Henry stepped from his tent whistling.

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The day went by uneventfully. Petra and Mrs. Wagner had left early with a group going to dredge a pond. Henry ended up in another trash-collecting group, led by none other than Mr. Wagner.

Henry played dumb and kept the conversation casual, and the day cruised by.

Back at camp, Petra's group came in late, and Henry missed her at dinner. Finally, he caught sight of her on the way to the showers when everyone else was going to bed.

Like everyone from her group, Petra was dirty from head to toe. Dark muck caked her boots and was splattered on her ankles and calves. Her hands and forearms were smudged with the dark earth, and she had a smear on her cheek.

"You look like hell." Henry said.

"Gee, thanks. We were dredging a pond. Took forever." She said. Then she pulled off her jacket, and Henry gulped. There were two mud-black handprints, one over each breast of her white t-shirt.

Petra caught his glance. She laughed.

"Oh that was just me, see?" She placed a hand over each print, cupping her breasts. Henry tried to laugh, it was sort of funny. Petra let go of her breasts and sighed. "God I'm tired. I think I'll turn in after my shower."

"Oh. I was hoping you might come by for a visit tonight." Henry said.

"Oh yeah." She said. "Well, I don't know." She seemed distracted by something, but she didn't express it. "Maybe. We'll see, okay?" She said.

"Okay." Henry said. He gave her a brief kiss and she headed for the showers. On her ass were two more black handprints. Henry shook his head. He wanted to laugh.

There was something in her voice that wasn't right, though. She was tired, surely, but something else was keeping her from committing to coming to his tent. He wondered what it was.

Back at his tent, Henry lay in his sleeping bag, listening to the minutes tick by on his watch. Curfew came and went, and still no Petra. Every once in a while he heard footsteps, but every time he looked out it was just one of the guys leaving their tents, probably off to use the bathroom.

Well, that's what he deserved, Henry thought, for screwing things up the night before. He left it at that and tried to go to sleep.

And just then, Henry heard what he had been waiting for: footsteps crunching in the pine needles outside his tent. He leaped up, certain it was her. Tearing open the flaps, he was startled to see Mrs. Wagner standing in front of him.

Worse yet was the worried look on her face.

"Hey Mrs. Wagner. What's up?" He asked. She didn't answer right away, and was at a loss for words. That didn't seem like her at all. Something had to be seriously wrong.

"Uh, listen. There's a problem." She said, biting her lip. Henry waited. "You better get dressed and come with me." She said finally.

Henry got dressed in his tent, wondering what it could be about. As he pulled on his socks he realized she was probably freaked out about what happened the night before. Henry joined her outside the tent, ready to deal with it.

"Listen, I talked to Petra like you suggested.' Mrs. Wagner said with some uncertainty. Henry couldn't think of a way to explain what he knew without telling the truth, so that's what he did.

"I know." He said. "It's okay, I saw everything."

Ingrid stopped. "You saw everything?" She asked. Henry nodded.

"Yeah...I was going over to Petra's tent to talk to her and I overheard your conversation. Then when Mr. Wagner showed up...I...well I cut a little hole in the back of Petra's tent, and watched." The last bit came out slowly, and Henry realized how foolish it sounded.

Mrs. Wagner just stood there.

"You...cut the hole in the back of Petra's tent?" She asked him.

"Yeah. I know, it was bad. I'll patch it up, I promise. Besides, these tents are old anyway." He offered. Mrs. Wagner's expression didn't change.

"Follow me." She said.

They circled around behind the girl's camp a little. Ingrid took them out of the way, through the trees, and Henry wondered why. She stopped him a little distance from Petra's tent. It was dark.

To Henry's chagrin, he could see the little hole he had cut in the tent. It had widened a little, for some reason, and stood out as a little black void against the material.

"Oh geez, yeah, that looks bad. I'll fix it, I promise-" He started in, but Mrs. Wagner hushed him with her finger against her lips. Then she pointed.

A figure detached itself from the shadows. It was big, obviously male. One of the campers, apparently. He walked quietly up to the back of Petra's tent, and stopped to whisper something. Henry couldn't hear it, and the confusion played on his face as he turned to ask Mrs. Wagner what was up. She just pointed.

The man reached down and unzipped his pants. His cock popped out, and to Henry's horror, he pushed the head of it through the hole in the tent.

Stunned, Henry sat down with a thump in the pine needles. But he couldn't stop watching.

The guy started pumping in and out of the hole in the tent, his hands on his hips. Henry didn't know how long went by, a minute or an hour, but soon the dark figure was climaxing. He gave a hushed moan, thrust a few last times into the hole, and then bent down to pick up his pants.

Henry felt Mrs. Wagner's hand on his shoulder. She looked at him, a weird mixture of consolation and sheepishness on her face.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I think she got together with that fellow Richard last night, and she was acting pretty randy around the guys today at the pond." Mrs. Wagner frowned. " I feel partially responsible..." She said. "Like I created a monster."

Henry looked up at her, and in spite of himself, he chuckled wearily. Ingrid laughed too, putting her hand over her mouth.

Henry looked back to the hole in the tent. No light escaped. It was truly a black hole, a void into which his relationship with Petra had been sucked, leaving his mind drifting in uncertainty.

He waited, but no other men approached. Yet.

"How many has she…you know..." Henry asked, horrified but strangely intrigued.

"Oh...I don't know. I saw one, on accident, and then watched another before I went to get you." Mrs. Wagner got serious again. "Do you want me to bust her?" She said.

Henry pondered it, but decided against it. After all, he was the one that started this thing. He stood up and brushed the pine needles off his pants.

"No. I'll go talk to her." He said. Mrs. Wagner patted him on the back.

"I'll wait here for a little." She said.

Henry walked quietly towards the tent. Could she see him? He wondered. He was going to walk around to the front when he heard a whisper.

"Hsst. Over here." Petra's voice hissed through the hole.

Henry's heart fell. He realized he had secretly been hoping that it was someone else's mouth in there.

He stepped towards the little hole. It had indeed widened a little. Petra's index finger poked out. It made a 'come here' motion.

Henry felt a weird, sick thrill. He stepped closer.

"Push it through." Her voice whispered. Henry heard lust in her voice. He stood there for a moment, wondering what to do. He looked back at Mrs. Wagner, who was watching carefully.

"Come on, whip it out." Petra said, giggling. "I'm hungry for a snack."

The word 'snack' hung in the air between Henry and the hole. The word had never sounded so disturbing in his ears before.

He could feel her eagerness like a heat through the fabric of the tent. Then her little pink tongue stuck out of the hole piercing the black and unsettling the equilibrium.

Henry sighed.

He walked away from her tent, hands in his pockets.

Mrs. Wagner followed him into the woods. They walked together in silence for a few minutes.

"Well, I'll get my husband out to start enforcing the curfew better." She said. "I am sorry, though."

"It's not your fault." Henry said wearily. "I'm going to bed."

Mrs. Wagner stopped Henry and him a hug. They separated into the night. Henry got to his tent, and lay awake thinking for a long time before drifting off into slumber.

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Henry woke with a start.

The flaps of his tent were fluttering loose, and he could hear someone stepping towards him. A small feminine foot stepped onto the lower part of his sleeping bag, making a soft rustle.

"Hey, wait-" Henry whispered. Through his sleep-fogged brain he could hear the bells going off, and he knew he had to stop her.

She ignored him. Her knees sank down into the thick down sleeping bag. The zipper creaked, slowly at first, then faster. Henry's brain started to wake up, and he searched for the right words to say. Nothing came to him, so he kept it simple.

"Stop." he said.

But she didn't stop. She split open his soft cocoon of a sleeping bag. She pulled it apart, eager to expose him. Henry felt a rush of cool night air through his fleece pants. Her hands immediately went for his waist, her fingers fumbling with the cinch, insistently tugging at the cord.

It was weird; Henry could feel the need in her hands as they worked. In the dark, unable to see her face, he knew exactly what it looked like anyway. Her fingers betrayed her hunger.

Henry felt the nylon rope holding his pants up loosen. That was it. He was awake now, and this was going to stop. Henry fumbled for his flashlight, and found it. He aimed the beam at the dark silhouette of her head, and clicked it on.

The beam flashed on. The determination in his face slid away, replaced by utter confusion.

There, leaning over him, was the face of Mrs. Wagner.

She blinked at the flashlight, and Henry moved the beam aside. Her expression relaxed, and she looked at him, her deep blue eyes trapping his gaze. Her lips were curled up slightly in a smile, but there was a hint of nervousness in her features.

Henry expected her to speak, but she just stared into his eyes. There was a question there, behind them, and he realized she was waiting for his reaction.

He took in the scene. The flashlight beam was bouncing off the side of the tent, casting a warm glow around them.

Ingrid was kneeling between his legs, dressed in a loose white t-shirt and sweats. The t-shirt had a v-neck, and through that opening he saw the deep line of her cleavage as her breasts hung in front of her. They heaved slightly up and down, and he realized her breath was coming in puffs. Whether from nervousness or the cold, Henry wasn't sure.

Her toned, bronze arms were in front of her, lovely forearms curving down to her delicate wrists. Her knowledgeable hands were on him, her fingers hooked under the waist of his fleece pants, ready to pull them down.

And suddenly Henry saw Mrs. Wagner, not as the woman he had known, the motherly camp counselor and family friend. He saw her as just a girl, who snuck into a boy's tent after curfew. And here she was, hunched over him, eager to...do something.

"Mrs. Wagner..." Henry started, not sure what he was going to say.

"Henry,' Mrs. Wagner said softly. "Just for tonight, will you please call me Ingrid?"

Henry exhaled a small laugh. He tried the word out.

"Ingrid." He said. But once again, he wasn't sure what he was going to say past that. Fortunately, his body spoke for him.

He felt himself stir. Ingrid felt it too, and she looked down at the fabric clutched in her fingers. There was a bulge in his fleece pants, and it was growing.

Ingrid looked back up at him. The nervousness was gone from her eyes, and it was replaced by a warm, satisfied smile. And then something else crept in, something that sent a hot shiver up Henry's spine.

Ingrid looked hungry.

Henry leaned back into his pillow. Ingrid's lips came together in a triumphant half-smirk, but she looked over her shoulder at the loose flaps of his tent, then glanced at the flashlight.

Henry knew she wanted him to turn it off, but he just had to see this. He made a compromise, and pushed the face of the flashlight up against his backpack, so only a tiny glow of light bounced out. His eyes adjusted, and he saw Ingrid's face relax, and her attention go back down to his pants.

Her mature hands pulled his pants down, sliding them over his legs and off his feet. Then she reached up and hooked her fingers under the elastic of his underwear, and looked up for one more nod of approval. The eagerness must have been apparent in his eyes because a tiny confident smirk danced across her lips again, and she tugged his briefs down.