Fat man: Okay but the Camp Manager isn't here. He will be coming up in May. I'm just the caretaker.Eddie: I see well how about we come in and take a l...ook around.Fat man: Sorry, I got my orders, don't let nobody in. It's an insurance thing they tell me.Eddie: Okay, whatever you say. By the way, is Andrew still the Camp Commandant?Fat man: Don't know nobody named Andrew. The Camp Manager's is Sarah Jenkins.Eddie: Well how about giving us her number. I'm sure if we called she would let us tour the. His fat cock-bulge was on perfect display and was only two or three feet away from me, damn near right at eye level with me. I think a good five seconds went by before it came to me that I was gaping slack-jawed right at his junk. Once that thought smacked me upside the head I quickly glanced up and saw that he was taking a tentative sip of his coffee while doing a decent job of pretending to not be showboating his manhood right in front of me. Just as soon as I saw the way he was acting, I. ..”“I thought you were going to show me.”“Of course,” she said. “Give me your hands, and I’ll walk you through the...”“No,” he interrupted. “I thought you were going to massage me.”A flicker of annoyance crossed the doula’s face, but it was gone almost as soon as it had arrived.“Of course,” she said, her voice calm. “Please; take off your shoes.”For the next fifteen minutes, she talked the husband through the art of massage, demonstrating on his feet. By the time she was done, the room smelled. He had knocked her across the room when she complained.There had never been any time just for her in that old life. She had a job that brought in money even though it was at a taco place and she worked the morning and afternoon shift. When she would get home, he'd start in on her about fixing dinner and taking care of his cock. After dinner, it was take care of some guy or they were going to have a party with her as the entertainment.Now she was living in the lap of luxury on a tropical.