Baby trekking

"You've gotta be kidding me," Jake exclaimed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

"Nope, I'm as serious as a heart attack," Tom replied, his eyes glued to the GPS device that seemed to be having a fit in his palm.

"But we're supposed to be the ones finding the checkpoints, not playing babysitters in the woods," Jake said, his voice a mix of disbelief and annoyance.

Tom couldn't argue with that. They were two boy scouts, deep in the thick of their orienteering challenge, a contest that tested their navigation skills and survival instincts. And here they were, standing in front of a crying baby, no more than a few months old, nestled in a makeshift basket of leaves and twigs.

The baby's wails echoed through the forest, a stark contrast to the serene chirping of birds and rustling of leaves. It was a sound that seemed to penetrate their very souls, demanding attention and care. Jake and Tom looked at each other, their expressions a blend of shock and responsibility. They'd stumbled upon something that was clearly not part of the game.

"What do we do?" Jake asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Tom, ever the thinker, took a deep breath. "We can't leave it here," he said firmly. "It's our duty to help."

Jake nodded reluctantly. "But what if we can't find its parents?"

Tom shrugged. "We'll figure it out."

The baby's cries grew louder, and Tom's mind raced. They were miles from civilization, and the only thing they had on them was their scout gear and the meager supplies for their competition. They had to keep the baby safe and quiet, lest they attracted unwanted wildlife.

"We need to feed it," Tom said, his voice taking on a tone of urgency.

Jake's eyes widened. "What? How?"

Tom looked around, his gaze landing on a nearby stream. "We'll boil some water, make a paste out of oatmeal, and see if it'll take the bottle."

Jake nodded, and together they set to work, their movements efficient and precise, a testament to their scout training. As they waited for the water to heat, the baby's cries grew softer, lulled by the warmth of their bodies and the gentle rocking of the makeshift cradle they'd fashioned.

The scent of the forest was heavy around them, the musk of earth and damp leaves mingling with the sweet aroma of wildflowers. The sun peeked through the canopy, casting dappled shadows on their faces as they worked. They were in the middle of nowhere, two teenagers with a baby that wasn't theirs, and they were about to embark on a journey they never could have anticipated.

They managed to coax the baby to drink the warm, oatmeal-infused water, and it quieted down, its tiny eyes blinking sleepily. Jake looked at Tom with a newfound respect. "You're pretty good at this," he said.

Tom shrugged, trying to play it cool. Inside, he felt a strange mix of pride and fear. They'd stumbled into a situation that was way over their heads, but they were handling it. For now.

As the day stretched on, the baby grew fussy again. It was clear it needed more substantial sustenance, but their supplies were dwindling. The thought of not being able to keep the baby fed and happy was a heavy burden on their shoulders.

"What if we tried... something else?" Tom suggested, his voice low and hesitant. Jake raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Tom took a deep breath, his cheeks flushing. "We could... you know... feed it with us."

Jake's eyes went wide. "You mean... our... sperm?"

Tom nodded. "It's protein, right? And it's all we've got."

The idea was ludicrous, but the desperation in Tom's voice was palpable. They were lost, with no way to communicate with the outside world, and a helpless baby was relying on them for survival. It was a taboo thought, but in their desperation, it seemed like the only logical solution.

Jake was the first to crack. "Okay," he murmured. "But we gotta be careful. This is... this is crazy."

Tom nodded, his heart racing. They were about to do something they never thought they'd have to consider. But they were scouts, and they were going to do whatever it took to ensure the baby's safety.

They found a secluded spot, away from the baby's curious gaze. With trembling hands, they unzipped their pants and took out their erect members. The situation was surreal, but the urgency of the baby's needs overrode any embarrassment or discomfort they might have felt. They had to do this. For the baby.

Tom took the lead, stroking himself until he was close to climax. With a grimace, he aimed and shot a stream of warm semen into a clean, empty water bottle they'd brought. Jake followed suit, his own orgasm ripping through him as he added to the makeshift milk.

They mixed the semen with more of the oatmeal water, creating a thick, white concoction. The baby took to it eagerly, suckling away, seemingly oblivious to the unconventional source of its nutrition.

As the baby fed, the two boys shared a look of relief and camaraderie. They'd found a way to keep it alive, even if it was the most unorthodox method imaginable. But as the reality of their situation sank in, they couldn't shake the feeling that their lives had taken a bizarre, unprecedented turn. Little did they know, this was only the beginning of their adventure with their unexpected little charge.

The sun began to set, painting the forest in a warm, golden glow. They had to find shelter for the night. With the baby content for the moment, they gathered firewood and built a small campfire, the crackling flames providing a comforting presence in the growing darkness. They laid out their sleeping bags, placing the baby between them for warmth.

As they watched over the baby, their thoughts inevitably turned to the night ahead. They were tired, but the fear of what could happen in the wilderness kept them both awake. The baby stirred, its tiny hand reaching out to touch Jake's cheek. He couldn't help but feel a strange paternal instinct wash over him, a protective warmth that seemed to ease the tension in his chest.

They took turns caring for the baby throughout the night, feeding it their warm, thick milk when it grew hungry. The act of providing for it had become almost natural, a strange bond forming between the three of them in their desolate situation. They whispered stories and sang lullabies, their voices carrying on the night air as they hoped for the dawn.

The days blurred together as they continued their trek, navigating through the forest with a new purpose. The baby grew stronger, its cries less frequent. They named it "Woodland," a name that seemed to suit its unconventional origins. And as they journeyed on, they discovered a deep-seated attraction to each other, fueled by the intense situation and their shared care for the little life they'd found.

Their bodies grew leaner, their muscles more defined as they hunted for food and water, but they found themselves drawn to one another in moments of quiet reprieve. The need to keep Woodland fed had become a strange, erotic ritual between them, a silent agreement that transcended their friendship into something more profound and primal.

One night, as the fire cast flickering shadows on their faces, Jake couldn't help but reach out and brush Tom's hair from his eyes. The touch was gentle, almost accidental, but it was all the invitation Tom needed. They kissed, tentative at first, then with a passion that seemed to burn as brightly as the fire beside them.

Their hands roamed over each other's bodies, exploring the contours and lines they'd known for years but never quite like this. They stripped off their clothes, the heat of the fire and their desire making the cool night air feel like a gentle caress.