tagGroup SexThirst



Day 1

I slowly came to consciousness lying face down in a puddle of salty, filthy water. I inhaled a little into my nose, making me cough violently and waking me up. I sat up, having no idea where I was. As I looked around, it hit me like a bolt, my recollection of the night before. I was sitting in a puddle of cold salt water in the left-hand stern corner of a very large wooden lifeboat.


Where was she? Had she made it?

"Karen! Karen!" I screamed, looking frantically around the boat. Dozens of weary and dazed men turned their head towards me, sitting throughout the rows of seats around me. No one said anything.

I jumped to my feet and started running forward along an aisle between the rows of seats, looking side to side. No sign of her. My heart crashed inside my chest and I felt a wail of grief and terror coming from my throat. I reached the bow and still hadn't seen her among all the dozens and dozens of men sitting throughout the seats. I was just about to succumb to utter despair when I caught sight of a female form partially wrapped in a tarp lying on the floor, tucked into the crook of the bow. Her face was hidden under the shelf over the bow, but exposed from the twisted tarp I saw two bare female feet. Further up, the tarp was off to one side exposing her left arm, shoulder and breast. Though I couldn't see the face, my heart leaped as I recognized the pink color of her toenails and the familiar breast as belonging to Karen, my wife. I frantically climbed under the shelf to see her face and figure out if she was okay.

"Karen! Karen! Wake up baby."

Her eyes dully opened, but didn't seem to focus on me. I gently unwrapped her from the tarp and lifted her out, setting her gently on a bench. Two men stood up to make room for me to lay her down there. She didn't have any visible injuries except a few scrapes. Her dress was badly torn, only one shoulder of the dress still intact, the other completely ripped, so the entire left half of the dress flopped over down to her waist, exposing her breast and abdomen. Her shoes were gone. She seemed to be okay. I reached for the ripped flap of the dress and awkwardly tried to pull it back across her to cover her exposed breast. Involuntarily, my head snapped up to look the two men standing over her. They immediately turned away, but they had been dully staring at Karen's exposed torso.

I leaned close to her face. "Karen, are you okay sweetie?"

She looked in my eyes, and then gave me a quick but uncertain nod. "Yeah, what- what happened?" Then her eyes bulged and she said, "Oh god, the ship. The ship went down. Didn't it? Oh god."

"It's okay, it's okay, baby." I said softly to her. "We're safe."

My head was reeling with the memory. We had been on board a giant research vessel in the Indian ocean, both asleep in our cabin, when the alarm had sounded. In the pitch black. The lights or electricity had failed in our area. We frantically tried to wake up, come to our senses and tried to remember our lifeboat instructions and find our way down the darkened hallways by feel. When we reached our lifeboat location, it was total chaos. People were panicking, shoving, pushing. We got separated, and I kept shouting for her. I heard her voice but couldn't find her. I climbed on board the lifeboat in the dark, but it rocked crazily back and forth. The ship was listing wildly, and the lifeboat became unstable on its ropes. It tilted over nearly 45 degrees, and I had to hang onto a seat to avoid tumbling down into the bow. Then, there was a snapping sound and the lifeboat was falling, falling towards the water. The last thing I remembered was thinking I couldn't believe how long it was taking for us to hit the water.

We had been, as usual, the only married couple on the giant research vessel. Karen and I worked together in the same oceanography department, and usually did research together. In fact, she had been one of only two women on the ship, as all the others in our team were men grad students, and the entire crew and other groups of researchers were all young men also. The only other female was an unmarried researcher named Agnes, a sweet, nice late-thirties woman with coke-bottle glasses and an unkempt mass of white hair. Both Karen and I liked her immensely, and she was incredibly smart and funny. She was, by far, the most distinguished researcher on the ship and had won all kinds of scholarly awards. She was brilliant. She was especially known for being able to adapt to any challenge or research situation with creativity and skill, and we both were hopeful that our collaboration with her would be great for both Karen and my careers. We spent every minute with her that we were able to; she was kind of my hero, Karen's too, professionally, and if we could achieve one tenth the success she had in her career, we'd each consider that a victory. Agnes was unmarried though slim and with a reasonably nice body, but one of those nerdy types that just seem utterly sexless. I had never seen her with a man nor ever heard her talk about or show any interest in dating. Her career was her life, and she was phenomenally talented and successful at it.

Altogether, there had been about 240 people on the ship, and looking around, it seemed that about 60 had made it onto this huge lifeboat. There was no sign of the other lifeboat. This one was large enough that there were still plenty of open seats. Rather than having lots of small lifeboats, our ship had two huge lifeboats that between them could carry the maximum 250 people on board. I was now doubting if this was a good idea, since it had created bottlenecks in getting everyone on to two boats.

I lied down on the bench behind Karen, spooning her and resting. Looking up at the sky, it was still overcast from the storm, but not raining. Exhausted, we soon both fell back asleep.

Day 2


I awoke in the morning sun, already feeling the heat gathering. I sat up, and saw that Karen was already up. She was leaning against the wall, sobbing slightly.

"Karen, how do you feel?"

She looked at me. "Oh Craig." And she put her arms around me, still sobbing slightly. I saw her dress had fallen open again, and I tried to pull it back into place while she hugged me.

"You're not hurt?" I whispered.

"No, I'm fine." She said softly. "I'm thirsty."

"Me too." I said. We had gone the whole previous day without eating or drinking.

I stood up and walked around, talking with various colleagues and crewmen. No one seemed to have any idea what had happened or to know if a radio message or anything had gotten out. The fact that 24 hours had passed without a rescue ship worried me greatly.

It turned out they had a few solar stills as part of the lifeboat supplies that had remained through the fall, and that some of the scientists had set them up that morning. They produced a precious little amount of fresh water, which they had organized a ration system for. I got my and Karen's rations in two tiny baggies. I could not believe how little water it was.

She finished it in one gulp as I handed it to her.

"Do you want mine too?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No baby, you need it."

I drank it and almost felt more thirsty.

Day 3

Still hot.

And bored.

Somehow, the adrenaline from the event had worn off, and now we were just bored. Sitting in a lifeboat, all day. While we were still uneasy about not having been picked up yet, but we knew we were close to major shipping lanes, so it seemed just a waiting game at this point. We felt lucky.

I looked at Karen as she gazed off at the horizon. Her profile was so beautiful. Her breast was still hanging out. She had spent all day yesterday trying to figure out a way to tie the loose part of the dress up, but some of the material was missing and it just wouldn't work. She tried to hold it up with her hand for a few hours, but her arm got tired, and pretty soon, in these circumstances, it just seemed silly to worry about something like that. So she just let it hang out.

In my boredom, I was a little amused at it, since her whole life, she'd been such a priss, always needing her attire and everything to be just perfect. I'd always tried to get her to loosen up, but to no avail. She was so proper and modest, so seeing her casually sitting there with her tit hanging out was quite funny. It's funny how the mind wanders in such boredom, but I kept thinking about her and her amazing body that she normally hid in such shyness.

And of course, everyone else noticed too. All the men were just kind of sitting around, bored, and so naturally their eyes wandered to this solitary female breast, hanging out in the ocean air. Even when our ship had been afloat, she had attracted a lot of attention, being the only young female among 50 men. However, she was so prim and proper, and everyone, even the crew sensed this, so they gave her space and just eyed her from afar. After a month at sea, I'm sure that it got a little excruciating. It was hard for me to judge, being the only male aboard who was regularly getting sex, but I thought I could feel all the guys on the ship getting more and more pent-up and sexually frustrated as the weeks went on with no young females around except Karen, who was so modest in her dress and demeanor as to give them little to look at.

Nonetheless, look they did. All the time. And the fact is, Karen is gorgeous. With a flawless body, hidden under her puritan clothing. About 5'6, 112 pounds, D-cup breasts and perfect legs and feet.

So now, they were looking again. At her bare breast and bare calves and feet and her beautiful face. I didn't mind, I mean, we were all bored. Just sitting for hours and hours, waiting for the time for our water ration.

The mate of the ship, Stubb, was an old man whom I'd talked with a few times before the ship went down; we'd sat at the captains table together once. I struck up a conversation with him; like everyone, his eyes had been playing over Karen's form.

"She'll do fine," he said suddenly, apropos nothing.

"What? Who?"

"Her," he said, nodding in Karen's direction.

"She'll do fine? What do you mean?"

"She'll be fine. She'll get out of this okay."

"You mean she'll be rescued? You mean we'll all be rescued?"

"No, I mean she'll be fine. Us, you, me, them -- " he nodded generally across all sixty men in the boat with us, "maybe so, maybe not. But she'll be fine. The women always survive. Look at all these men here. Sixty-odd men. She'll be fine."

I was perplexed. I looked closely at him to see if he was delirious. But he seemed okay. Bored, but okay.

"Okay, thanks..." I said uncertainly.

Day 4


Really thirsty, where it was an all-body ache for water. Then, some idiot screwed up the stills when he set them up incorrectly, and they were all empty. They'd take hours to refill. There was nearly a riot of men so angry that such a critical thing had been screwed up. Everyone was so thirsty.

Some of the more resourceful guys up front had rigged a way to fish with some lines. They caught a few fish, and used them as bait to catch more. They set up a rotation to keep it going, and they caught fish at a slow but steady rate. They rationed this "sushi" just like the water, but again, among fifty men, it was nowhere near enough. It helped, just like the water, but basically, we were all still slowly starving and withering from thirst. Eventually, we'd all die, I thought. Although, to be truthful, in the darker parts of my brain I thought it through more thoroughly. Not everyone would die, since as our numbers decreased, eventually the stills and the fishing line would be enough to sustain the smaller number of people. I got a chill, and pushed this dismal thought aside.

How one's thoughts wander, especially when faced with such boredom. I could tell that everyone was feeling bored. Some played improvised games, some talked. Some seemed to prefer to distract themselves by looking at the only available female, Karen. It had happened so much on the ship, but in the closer quarters of the lifeboat and with my wife's dress in tatters, it really reached a more fevered pitch. I didn't mind, really, I could empathize with their need to distract themselves with anything.

Still, the men just whiled away the hours checking out my wife. I even caught a few of the younger guys a few seats away subtly rubbing their cocks through their pants as they stared at Karen's boob. I pretended to ignore it. Why cause trouble.

Around dusk, I was so thirsty I couldn't stand it. And hungry too. Though weak, I paced occasionally and irrationally up and down the aisle, looking for something in the boat I could drink, though of course I knew there was nothing.

Karen was too. She had complained to me how desperately thirsty she was. I didn't know what to tell her. At every water ration disbursement, I had tried to get her to take mine, but she adamantly refused.

"Taking your water ration would be like killing you. You need it just as much as me, and I don't want to live if it hurts you," she said.

I suggested she try to take a nap, to take her mind off it until the next water ration in the morning. She said she didn't think she could wait that long. Finally, as dusk approached, she fell asleep leaning against the wall. I had stood up, still pacing, and sat down in the stern, staring out at the water. When I returned, Karen was still asleep, but one of the younger crew members - he couldn't have been more than 18 - had taken my seat next to Karen. In the dim light, as I approached I realized he was staring at her breast and body from inches away. As I came closer, I suddenly realized with a shock that he furtively had his cock out of the zipper of his pants, and was jerking off right there in the semi-dark, turned sideways and aimed at her thigh.

Just at that moment, he started coming.

"What the hell are you doing?" I shouted.

His head jerked up, with a terrified look. Karen also was shocked awake by my shout. Her eyes stared up at me with confusion. Then, slowly, her eyes followed mine down, and she looked down into the lap of the youth next to her. Her eyes just about bulged out of her head.

"Oh my god oh my god. What are you-"

At that moment, spurt after spurt of come was still shooting out of his large-sized cock, landing on the seat between them, and then several squirts on her dress covering her left thigh. She shrieked.

The young man quickly covered himself up and scurried away.

Karen was very upset. She was shocked beyond words. She whispered furiously in my ear, "Oh my god. Can you believe he was doing THAT? Right in front of me -- on me?! Ewww. How awful."

She went on for several minutes, before sheer exhaustion and thirst slowed her down. She finally calmed down, and seemed to let out a big sigh.

"Oh, I'm just so thirsty. I just don't care about anything except getting some water. Even having some guy touching his 'thingy' doesn't seem as bad as this thirst." As she was talking, she looked down at the wet semen stains on her dress on her thigh. She absent-mindedly rubbed her finger over the stain, feeling its moistness. She lifted her finger slightly, and a wet trail of come extended out from the dress to her fingertip.

Even though it completely grossed me out seeing another man's semen on her, these was something about seeing moisture of any kind that seemed to grab my attention, lost in thirst as we all were. I looked at Karen's face, and I could tell it had the same effect on her. She stared transfixed at her finger and the wet drop hanging from the end of it. She lifted up her finger right in front of her face and stared at it in the dim light for a long moment, tongue slightly hanging out of her mouth, seemingly unaware of me or anyone else or anything in the world except that drop on the end of her finger.

Suddenly, she leaned her head forward and took the whole wet finger tip in her mouth, and closed her lips around it, with a little scared look. As she held the finger in her mouth and tasted the moisture, her scared look melted away, and she closed her eyes in rapturous appreciation of moisture in her mouth. She kept her finger in her mouth for a long moment, seeming to try to suck every molecule off of it. She pulled it out of her mouth and opened her eyes with a manic, excited look. She shifted back in her seat a little, and looked around excitedly down at the bench between us.

She reached her finger down to the surface of the bench, and I saw there was a huge glob of semen still sitting on the white-painted surface. She slipped her finger down beside it, and carefully swiped across it, wiping the entire glob onto the side of her finger, then rolling her hand over so it sat balanced on top of her finger.

"Oh...oh," she said excitedly, and ever so gingerly and carefully, lowered her face down to her finger, obviously terrified that she might drop it. She carefully opened her mouth wide and took the whole finger into her mouth.

"Mmmmmmmmm" she moaned with her eyes closed and her lips wrapped around the base of her finger. Obviously the much larger glob she had found was even more satisfying to her. Let me put it this way: I felt a pang of jealousy. Not that she had tasted some other guy's semen, but that she had tasted a large glob of something that looked like moisture, and I had none. That's how thirsty we all were. It consumes you. It's one of the most fundamental programs of any animal; your entire mind and body join to focus on the one life-sustaining goal: find water at any cost.

Finally, after she had tried for about a minute to suck every last molecule of wetness off her finger again, she opened her eyes and took her finger out of her mouth. "Oh my god, that was sooo good. I can't believe it. It's so wet and beautiful and delicious. It's even a little filling, like cream." I guess it had some calories, too. It must, I thought, some kind of organic material; protein? What made it sticky? Some kind of dissolved carbohydrate? I didn't know. Maybe you could live off it, I mused.

Suddenly, Karen dropped to her knees and began frantically searching the bench for another droplet, her face scanning back and forth, only inches from the surface. However, there were no more large drops. She spied a tiny little drop, and was trying to figure out how to scoop it onto her finger, but it was way too small. Finally, she just brought her face down and licked the bench, sweeping up the drop with her tongue. Then, she kept licking over the whole area, trying to find more tiny drops by taste. She reached the spot where she had scooped the big drop from, and it was still a little damp. "Mmmmmm" she said as her tongue found that spot, and she licked it over and over.

Finally, after several minutes of this, she gave up and sat back up next to me on the bench. She rubbed the damp spot on her skirt, trying to get the juice out of it, bringing her finger up to her mouth, but that didn't seem to work. She leaned way over, and pulled up hard on the hem of her skirt, pulling one damp spot near the hem into her mouth. She put the damp fabric in her mouth and tried to suck the moisture out of it, apparently with some success, as she softly said, "Mmmmm" again.

She found another damp spot further up the dress, but try as she might she couldn't pull it high enough or bend over far enough to get it in her mouth. Without hesitation, she lifted her butt off the seat and pulled her skirt up to her waist, exposing her white cotton panties, and sat back down. She flipped the skirt up, inside out, and brought the wet spot to her mouth, where she sucked on it for a minute or more, getting every last bit out of the material. This spot had soaked through to her panties, which had a visible wet spot on them. She eyed this spot, feeling it for a second with her fingertip, then quickly stood up, pulled the panties down to the middle of her beautiful thighs and sat back down. Then, she lifted both thighs and slipped the panties down over her knees and bare feet. Holding the panties in front of her face, she slowly rotated them in front of her face until she found the wet spot, and pushed it from inside into her mouth, where she sucked hard on it.

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