A lost hiker indulges in some fantasizing and self pleasure in Maine’s Acadia National Park
© Johncleland1748
. . .
It was late afternoon before a chagrined Emily finally admitted to herself that she was lost. After all, she was an experienced hiker, and it wasn’t like this was her first visit to Acadia. She had set out that morning from the Blackwoods Campground near Otter Creek, on what was supposed to have been easy, two-hour walk to Eagle Lake. But one wrong trail had led to another, and now, nearly eight hours later, she found herself completely turned around, and she was getting nervous.
If she didn’t find a viable path out of the forest soon, she would have to spend the night here, and she did not relish that prospect. For one thing, she hadn’t brought her camping gear, as she had expected to be home long before sunset. For another, she had heard all sorts of ominous stories about strange things that supposedly happened deep in the wilds of Acadia. Locals reported seeing strange lights, hearing spooky voices on the breeze, even having to flee from weird creatures that stalked through the trees by the light of the moon.