“I can’t reach you!” Vincent said. After a few seconds more of trying, he retreated his outstretched arm. “I’ll go get dad, he can get you o...t!”“Wait, no!” Vivian cried out, but it was too late. Vincent’s head had already disappeared. She didn’t want to be alone. It was dark, and there was an awful smell. It smelled like old dirt, wet leaves, weeds, and something else. Something worse. A cold, black smell. The kind of smell that she imagined that shadows would have if they had a scent.Tears. She hoped Gerry would join her at a few of them at least.Once they were registered and received their badges, they followed a golf cart to their campsite and vehicle parking was pointed out. Since they had not been sure how big the spot would be or how open or shaded it would be, they had also brought a pop-up canopy in case they needed the shade. But the spot they were given was in a wooded area, so they would not need it. They unloaded the truck, except for the boxes of food for the food. Each night, she lay down to sleep, prefacing her slumber with a hot masturbation session in which Martin was the center of her imagination and each night, he listened from the hallway, muffling his grunts of pleasure even as they mirrored her own. And bit by bit, she learned. She slowly opened up to the therapist and with a little prodding, began to explore the world outside the door. Martin watched her progress, wishing that he could dash out and help her up each time she fell but knowing that. Instead the mood was usually slightly more serious than that, with probably a majority of the women now evaluating the male stock more with longer terms interests of matrimony, rather than just a weekend fling. Here it was all about showing off ones education or raw intelligence, or some faux facsimile of it, although the ladies did seem to gravitate as always to the taller guys with the more expensive suits who didn't visibly wince after buying another round of drinks.I was reasonably witty.
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