Overflow Cabin

It had started when she was in a high school. She'd had a couple of boyfriends before, nothing too serious, but Mitch was the first one who she'd messed around with. What began as intense make-out sessions had become touching one another, and then one night, when he'd gotten her a little tipsy, he had pulled down his pants and suggested that they go a little further…

Looking back on it, her first blowjob was amateurish. She had no sense of
rhythm and focused too much on trying to get all of him into her mouth than
actually pleasing his sensitive spots. The fact that Mitch had cum at all was
probably more due to the novel sensation of having his dick in a mouth than any
skill on her part.

But the moment that cum had hit her tongue, Grace was hooked. How could she not
be? That sharp, powerful saltiness. Its warmth, its fluidity, the way it moved
in her mouth as she played with it on her tongue… Nectar from the gods, and
once she had taken the last drops down her throat, Grace had already wanted more.

She had sucked him off twice more that night, then at least once every two days
after that. Mitch was surprised, then pleased, then maybe a little startled.
They had moved on to sex, and even anal (Grace had wondered if it could provide
anything like that high she had experienced with sperm in her mouth), but
nothing compared.

Soon once a day wasn't enough. Mitch wanted to do things like study or hang
with friends instead of having her mouth clamped between his legs and her
fingers massaging his balls. So she started hanging around the boys' bathrooms,
or going to keggers where she knew she'd find a guy with no such reservation.
Mitch found out and dumped her once the football team blabbed, but that just
meant that she could add Mitch's brother Hank to her growing list of friends
without guilt.

She grew increasingly worried at what she was coming to see as an addiction. A
day without cock and spunk left her feeling irritable, edgy and frustrated.
Conversely, when she was in need, any guy with a cock became more and more
attractive, so long as he was willing to let her have a taste.

She eventually went to see a doctor once she got fired from her temp job at the
Print Shack. Improving morale was good, but apparently allowing your male
colleagues to use your throat as a cum dump was bad. Grace decided she needed
medical help.

Dr Elm couldn't have been more sympathetic as she tearfully explained her
situation. He did some tests, and politely ignored the way her eyes were glued
to his crotch the entire time. Twice he gave her a tissue to wipe the unnoticed
drool from her lips. She hadn't sucked cock in two days, she explained,
flushing.

After a few minutes research, Dr Elm came back with a diagnosis: she was a
spermivore. The actual term was more scientific, linked to nymphomania in some
way, but in essence she *needed* essence. There was no cure, that he knew
off, but it could be managed. In fact, he said, standing up and pulling down
his fly, he consulted for a camp where Grace might do very well indeed…

Grace had taken his advice (and two medically-approved loads) and never looked
back. Now, three years later, she couldn't be happier.

AS she approached Overflow Cabin, she could smell that familiar scent in the
air. Freshly spilt cum, dried cum, oozy, juicy, salty cum. Her stomach growled
and her pussy clenched in sympathy. She knew a lot of campers and counselors
hated that smell, complained about it all the time, but for her it was better
than any perfume.

She wondered who was on lunch duty. Mr Tennison, her favourite, had been
yesterday, which meant he wouldn't be there today. Probably at the dining hall
polishing off whole plates of scrambled eggs. That meant Frederick and… Olaf?
Maybe Simon. The rotation changed often, and Grace had a hard time concentrating
on the duty lists that they had hung up in the cabin when there were other
things for her to be doing.

She took her sandals off at the door, counting the pairs of shoes already
there. Only a handful, which meant that she wouldn't have to wait in line, she
thought giddily. There was a gloryhole stall set-up around back, for the more
shy cocksuckers at camp, but Grace knew what she was and was no longer ashamed,
and went in through the front door.

Inside, her mouth watered. Mrs Garrick and her daughter Tina were already
there, lying side by side with their heads hanging off of the edge of the bed
they were on. Thomas and another Stallion she didn't recognise were steadily
face fucking them while their hands groped the women's tits. Chun-Ti was leaning
against the wall, legs spread, while Fiona, a counselor like Grace, bobbed her
head up and down on his shaft, moaning all the while.

Frederick was lying on his bed, absent-mindedly stroking his shaft while he rad
a book. Hearing her come in, he smiled and tossed it aside. Grace licked her lips as she saw how sticky his hand, cock and balls were with leaked precum.

"Hi Grace," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and tossing down
a cushion for her to kneel on, "I was wondering where you were."

Grace had to mentally stop herself from lunging at his dick, and instead knelt at his feet, her hands resting on his thighs. He was sticky there too, and it took all her willpower not to lick her fingers clean.

"I hope you're hungry, the teen said, undoing the buttons of Grace's shirt to access her tits, "cause I've been saving it just for you…"

Her stomach growled once again, and he smiled, and then guided his cock into her waiting maw.

Over the next half hour, she found out how true that statement was. The moment that his cock had entered her mouth, the more rational side went away and the hungry beast took over. She sucked him, drained him, worshiped him. She was a little hasty with the first round, more eager for his cum than she had realised, and probably didn't appreciate the first load as much as she should have, even as it filled her mouth, her throat, her belly. It was thick, heavy, clearly the product of a few hours abstinence for the young man. She was grateful he had thought of it.

The second delivery of spunk she took her time with, lovingly licking his shaft, cleaning his sticky balls and groins in between coaxing a fresh dribble of cum from his slit. When he came, she rolled it around on her tongue, held it in her cheeks, before swallowing it down. Still creamy, still more than an experienced girl could handle. The trick was to swallow in rhythm with his spurts, avoid letting it spill out from the corners of your mouth.

For the last load, she let him eat her out, riding his face while she gobbled down his cock. She enjoyed oral as much as the next woman, but she knew Freddy was a fan and the boy deserved a treat for giving her such a filling meal. After all, he would be eating reheated lunch in order to make sure that ladies like Grace could eat theirs fresh.

Grace came the same time he did, her pussy lips fluttering as his third and final load for the hour sprayed against the roof of her mouth. Ordinary guys usually couldn't deliver on their third, fourth or fifth loads, but Overflow boys were proud of their consistency, which was always like cream.

Lunch had, she dozed on Freddy's bed as he gave her a peck on the cheek and
went to eat his own. It always took her a half hour or so to digest her protein.

And so she was still laying there, fingers idly playing with her clit, when the rest of the Overflow boys returned from lunch. She gave the boys a smile, and
began to sit up to pull on her clothes.

"Oh, no rush, Grace," said Mr Tennison, stepping forward and already shucking his shorts, "you look like a girl who'd appreciate some dessert."

As around her the excited boys began to do the same, Grace obligingly lay back down and opened her mouth wide.

She *had* said that she was hungry.