.. and yes, sometimes to outright strangers. Such was the confidence people had in her excellent judgment.She had a deep and abiding love for the youn...er people. Coming up hard herself, had given her that most precious of gift—The gift of understanding.The years of the 1930's passed slowly. All the families developed a closeness. No one had much but they were always willing to share what they did have with others.Aunt Bessie in time became the go-to person when anyone was ill. She knew how to. "I walked up the trail and through the woods at a good pace, curious to see who our neighbors were. As I entered the campsite, I saw a blue van and two tents that had already been set up. I then noticed the three college aged black men sitting at the picnic table. I was about to say something, when a fourth black man stepped out of one of the tents. He walked up to me with his hand outstretched."I'm Richard," he said, "You must be from the other camp," he continued, as he gestured up the path. He then went to his dresser and got something out. I had no idea what it was. Then I felt his soft touch on my legs. He raised me up so that he could have easy access to my pussy. “Have you been a bad girl? I think you have so I will show you what happens to bad girls.” He said. Before I could answer he took a small whip and as hard as he could he brought it down upon me. I screamed in pain. He did it again laughing at me. “I like it when you scream.” He said and took off the blindfold. . I got an occaisional call from Char over a period of several months.She was just trying to keep the door open between Marci and me. Marci would call me occaisionally, but her calls were to apologize for her mom's calls and to assure me that she didn't put Char up to it.Heck, there was no harm done and the various calls probably served to soften the impact of a sad break-up. I missed Marci, but not enough to go back with her.I figured that Char certainly meant no harm by calling me. I admit.
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