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Remember how it felt when he kissed you."Becky had drank her second highball too quickly, and was feeling weird again. Unbeknownst to her, both drinks had been laced with a combination of aphrodisiac and muscle relaxant, and it was doing its job. Becky relaxed, her mind floating into the scenario Christine presented.Alan was a tall, handsome art major with short dark hair and a winning smile. Becky remembered how their first kiss had caused butterflies in her stomach.Christine's voice went even lower: "Remember how he touched your body, Becky. Remember how it felt." Becky felt Christine's hands touching her thighs, moving them apart. Oh, Alan, Becky remembered whimsically."I remember how he felt, Becky. How he touched me. Did he touch you like this?" Christine's hand moved to Becky's stomach and then slipped down to her pubic region. Becky caught her breath. Her pussy was tingling, caused by a combination of the drinks and the sexual excitement from the blowjobs she gave. I paused before answering. ‘I walked up the cliffs. Just needed to think.’ ‘Think about…?’ he quizzed. ‘Anything…everything…’ I answered. He contemplated that for a minute. ‘I’m sorry,’ he finally came up with. ‘What for?’ I asked, not meeting his gaze. He stopped me. ‘For being a dick last night. I was just…confused.’ ‘Yeah…join the club,’ I said, bluntly. I realised too late it sounded worse than I meant it to. But I was confused – hopelessly so. I liked Nate a lot. But I liked Aaron too. The catch was – he didn’t like me back. His reaction on the cliff told me that. We reached the food hall, and went in to join the people from our cabin. Nate and I didn’t talk at all while eating. But he sat right next to me. Probably closer than was necessary. I didn’t mind. It was then that Aaron walked in. His eyes went directly to me, and he held my gaze. I however, did not. ‘I’m not hungry…’ I muttered, and got up from the table. ‘Ronnie, wait…’ Aaron began, as I walked past him. I didn’t.
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However, I did have a strange dream.A voice like nothing I had ever heard before spoke to me as if he were a teacher explaining a new and strange situation to a student. I saw a man sitting behind a desk in an odd looking, but not uncomfortable chair. The man had bushy white hair and no beard. He was wearing something that resembled a jumpsuit that was a shade of purple. He never told me his name, but told me to call him Mentor (was that his name?). His skin was a very pale chocolate color, but I could not tell if that was its natural color or the result of a deep suntan.“Good evening, Doug. I know that you are going to have some trouble believing what I am about to tell you, but rest assured that it is all absolutely true. I have nothing to gain by lying or misleading you. At the moment, just take what you hear at face value—the truth of what I say will become clear in our future conversations. Yes, I will be contacting you while you sleep for the next few years, and possibly for.

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