The Fishing Trip

I wondered just what his fantasy with Stacie was. He wanted her to resist and fight it. But he also said she would love it.

I stopped fighting him. My body relaxed. I reached around grabbing his buns and pulled the last four flexible inches into my body. My upper lip now touched his stomach and my lower his balls.

With my left hand I massaged and tugged on his cum filled oysters. The sounds I made changed from yelling objections to humming acceptance.

Seeing the change he said, "That's it Stacie, I knew you would come around. Here it comes. Eat my cum. Eat it all! I'm filling you up you gorgeous cocksucker."

I was lightheaded. More than what was now normal from starvation, also from lack of air. I started to pass out. But I did feel full and satisfied for the first time in many days. It wasn't just Johnson's cum that helped. It was the cumulative sum of all the loads that I took in the half hour before too.

His cock truly was way down my throat when he came so I have no way of knowing how much cum he gave me that first time. "A gallon" would be a gross exaggeration.

A few days later he deposited a batch on my tongue as I nursed just on the bulbous head. It felt like two tablespoons - or a hundred and fifty calories - from one cock.

We each lost pounds on that trip but I lost the least, losing only ten in total. One of the guys got sick and died on the last day.

On the plane ride back the guys all agreed that they could not have survived without my morale boosting support. I felt like I wouldn't have survived without dozens of doses of rich abundant jism.

When I collected my "candy bars" I had over thirty thousand dollars. I also had a compulsive thirst to suck cock constantly, craving as much sweet cum as I could get.