Chapter 3

We both did sleep well that night, in separate beds.

Nothing was said the next day, - spent mostly on the beach drinking pina coladas and trying not to get sunburnt.

That night we ate at the restaurant right near the trailer, and Megan wore a less outrageous dress. We passed the night trying different wines and when we got back she kissed me hard, murmuring, "Down boy. I need my sleep. We are leaving tomorrow, so get your Zs. Packing first thing tomorrow."

And that was that. I had no expectations, so I was fine.

The next morning, we got up, packed and were on the road by ten thirty.

And it was off, via various back roads, to San Luis Obispo.

San Luis Obispo is a small self-contained city about three hours up from LA. It's inset from the beach – easy to get to the beach but the city itself is not on the water. It's really quite nice – a university town. Its where California Polytechnic State is, which coincidentally has a great water management program so I actually know a lot about it. Apparently its population doubles during term time.

We got rooms at a small place on the outskirts of the city. The weren't great, but they were was adequate. For once, it appeared we were somewhere Megan hadn't been before. She was as enamored of the city as I was, excited to check it out.

We spent three days there, looking around the town, and checking out bubble gum alley. That was interesting and disgusting at the same time. An alleyway where both sides where festooned with chewed up bubble gum. It stunk of chewing gum and while it was interesting – all the different colors, it was somewhere you'd want to stay well clear of the walls. I had no desire to add any chewing gum to what was already there.

The second day we took a little excursion about 45 minutes up the road to Hearst Castle. What a place! It reminded me of my apartment in tunnels. NOT.

But while the days were fun and interesting, it was the nights that were really the important part for me.

Because I got laid. No, I didn't get laid. I got waylaid. In fact, I got way laid.

Though we had two adjoining rooms, after the first night we only used one.

We had gone out for dinner at a recommended Italian restaurant. I was disappointed – the servings were very small and pretentious. Megan arched her eyebrows at me, and said, "I see you are just like every other man. No class. No understanding of sophistication, right? Meat and potatoes man. Heavy on the meat."

She sighed disgustedly, and in an overly dramatic fashion, dropped her fork and said, confrontationally, "I suppose I'm going to be dragged back to the room by my hair and you'll do unspeakable things to my body, right?"

I actually laughed at that. Like I had the courage or self-confidence for that.

"I think you are safe from me," I said, smiling at her to let her know it was ok; I was fine with the joke.

"Oh really?" she challenged me. "What if its what I want? What if I did it to you?"

I looked at her, not knowing where she was going with this.

"I think I'd consider myself a lucky guy," I said, honestly. "But really, all you have to do is ask. Like most guys, I think all it really takes is asking nicely."

She stared at me for a moment, then shook her head and took a bite, muttering, "Unreal!" under her breath.

We finished the meal, and then headed back to the motel. She wished me good night, and I went to my room. I was just wondering if I might risk some violin practice – it was only 9pm after all – when the adjoining door on my side opened, with a slight creak. I'd never bothered to lock it – the whole concept of adjoining rooms was a new one to me, and after messing with the doors when we'd first arrived, I hadn't relocked. I looked up and there was Megan in the doorway.

It was a classic double take. She was naked, in all her glory. And trust me, she was glorious! Her room was soft lit behind her and she was silhouetted in the doorway – her back against the frame, breasts thrust out, in side profile. She knew exactly the image she was presenting, like a classic 1970's playboy pose.

I just didn't know what to say or do – I was tongue-tied. She smiled lopsidedly at me. Not a come on, just a look of slight amusement.

"OK big boy. I'm asking..." she said, breathlessly.

For a moment I didn't react. My insecurities battled against the reality of what was being offered. The insecurities lost, badly. But while I barely knew my parents, I can tell you they didn't give birth to a fool. Well, not a total fool, anyway.

I got up – with some difficulty because I was tenting my shorts – and went towards her.

I stood before her, wordless, and she just looked up at me, looking into my eyes. I looked back, seeing ... I don't know. But it wasn't just lust.

And then she pulled my hair and pulled my face down to meet hers, and we kissed. This time it wasn't hot. It wasn't all lust and passion. I don't quite know what it was, to be honest, but if I wasn't lost before this kiss, I certainly was now. There was just something about it. I understood what the French mean by je ne sais quoi. I can't explain it but I knew I'd never be the same.

My arms went around her body, and pulled her towards me. She was warm, oh so warm.

And we just melded together. We kissed for about ten minutes, each, increasingly hotter than the last, moving out of romance and into lust.

Then she broke apart, breathing heavily and looked at me and said, "Well, you are a quick study, that's for sure."

Then she took my hand and led me into her room, towards the bed. As we got there, I hesitated. I was going to hate myself for doing this, but I was aware of who I was. What I was. What I looked like. I had to say something.

She felt my reticence and looked back at me, enquiringly, eyebrow raised.

"Megan..." I said, hesitantly, "are you sure about this? I mean,

"Thomas," she began, with that sly smile she always had when she was about to partake in sarcasm or some other witticism, "When a naked woman says 'come here, big boy', you don't hesitate or ask questions. Go with the flow."

"No," I persisted, stubbornly. "No, I have to be sure you are ok. I know what I am."

"And what's that?" she said, folding her arms and sitting down on the bed, the whimsical gone.

"Well," I said, flustered, "this." And I gestured to my face.

"Thomas, what you are is a sensitive man, who's had, frankly, a pretty shitty life, been crapped on from high places – sometimes literally – and one who needs a break. I see someone I like. Someone who saved my life. Someone I can relax with, and have a good time. Someone I have spent several really nice, fun, great days with. You are too damned hard on yourself."

She stood up, moved forward and put a hand on my chest and said, looking up at me, "Thomas, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want to. This is not work."

I didn't totally get her last sentence, but frankly, I was too far-gone anyway. As I looked down into her eyes, I knew what heaven was. To be desired by this angelic creature, well, it wouldn't get any better than that.

And then she kissed me, again. And it was, if possible, even better than last time. But like last time, there was just something in it, something indefinable, which took all of my senses.

We moved to the bed and she –gently- pushed me down onto it.

She took her time undressing me. Not one piece of clothing went without her kissing me passionately between it. When I was as naked as she was, she put my hands on her breasts, looked at me and said, "Love me, Thomas. Please."

I didn't need to be asked twice at that point.

Now, I may be inexperienced. I may not know a G spot from a Bed Knob, but as a single guy who is not dead, I've watched porn. I know what happens. I've had the one experience with the girl in Las Vegas, who looked like she had a good time – but then she was paid to. She was hardly going to look like she had a shitty time.

I knew though what to do but didn't have the subtleties down. When I went at her breasts, I went a little too hard, and she had to tell me to slow down, that the nipples would still be there in the morning, to go gently, at least for now.

When I fingered her, I remembered the lessons of the night before.

Eventually she, in turn, got to my dick and now she saw it in the bedroom light, she admired it, in all its erect glory.

"Nice," she said. My expression must have said something and she laughed gently, and said. "What? I'm not saying 'Oh my god Thomas, I love your big fat cock, shove it in my now'?"

I just went red and she carried on, while gently encapsulating it in one fist and pumping it up and down, "Thomas, a prick is prick is a prick. Size is nice, but it's not everything. You're plenty big enough. I've seen a few that are bigger, and plenty that are smaller. But a willingness to learn to use what you have is worth way more to a woman than a a couple of inches on a man who expects that to be enough. And something tells me, you'll be an even faster learner with this."

And then she lunged forward and took it all on her mouth, slobbering on it. She licked and sucked it like a lollipop for a couple of minutes, with my breathing and heart rate zipping up like an elevator.

Then she popped it out, a line of spittle drooling down from her lips to the top of my dick. It was a hugely erotic sight, making me even harder, if that was possible.

She smiled again and said, "It's tasty too. A man with personal hygiene is something to be looked forward to. Plus, you really are on the big side. I mean it. And it's not too thick, so it won't stretch me too much. Enough to be pleasurable, not enough for me to be in pain, or gaping afterwards. And it puts anal sex on the table too, because that won't hurt so much back there."

With that, she gobbled it up again and I just lay back and tried to think about violins to prevent myself from exploding right there and then.

I –obviously –hadn't brought condoms with me. I started to ask, in an awkward way, if I should go to the CVS we had seen. She put her finger over my lips and said "Shhh. You are too sweet, really. Don't worry. I'm on the pill and I'm clean, and I know you are too. Don't worry about anything but our pleasure."

We spent almost ninety minutes exploring each other, and fucking/making love. Now I don't know how other people look at it, but I look at it that fucking is the animal act. All lust, all self-pleasure – the pleasure you give someone else is a by-product of what you want to do. Making love is eye contact, slow desire, holding each other, touches, sensual caresses, little kisses, asking what the other might like.

We did both. At times it was animal – when I took her from behind and pulled her hair (she did ask me to be a little rough) it was animal lust. And it was great. Empowering; it made me feel like a man.

And other times, when I took her lying sideways, she twisted her body so she could look back at me, behind her, as I thrust into her eye to eye, hers open and sometime widening as I hit a particularly sensitive spot.

She was so wet, and I found I loved thrusting hard into her, then suddenly popping out and pushing my face into her pussy, smothering my face in her juices and attacking her clit with my tongue for all I was worth. I'd do that for a minute, then go back to sliding my cock in and out, varying the speed and intensity, and doing the face thing randomly.

To be entirely honest, I was experimenting. Trying to listen to her body and her reactions to what she liked. I found she preferred me to lick just up and above her clit, alternating directly on it and to the side of it.

Eventually I felt her building – her breathing getting more and more sharp and ragged, and her moaning getting more intense. At one point, when I had my face in her pussy, she used both hands to grind my face into it, moaning louder and louder. And then she came, clenching her thighs, thrashing her arms and giving a low, guttural growl.

I looked up at her, from between her thighs, as she slowly recovered. Eventually she opened her eyes and looked down on me and said, "Two for two Thomas! You are a catch!"

I just smiled and shifted, in order to move my body pressure on my rampaging erection. She caught the movement and smiled wider and wickeder.

"Oh yes, your turn, no question about that."

She gobbled up my dick for moment, then pushed me back on the bed, and squatted on top, sliding my extremely hard cock into her very wet hole. It slid in easily, and she closed her eyes, tensing her muscles in her vagina, contracting around my cock, while also gently pushing up and down.

It was the most exquisite sensation I had ever felt. With her eyes closed, she ran both hands up her body, and one hand captured a breast, kneading it and pulling at a nipple. The other roamed her body, touching her clit, up her body, to her neck, down her face and then back down her body, stopping at the other nipple then, back down again. Her breathing increased a lot, and from the look of intensity on her face, I could tell she was VERY into what she was doing.

And that made it even sexier for me. I started thrusting up into her and she arched her back, holding herself at full extension so my pelvis had space to thrust up and down. She started grunting in time to my thrusts, and I felt myself increasing speed, my breathing matching hers ... I came in now time, flooding her pussy with my sperm. I came like an express train, but even after I was done, I didn't get soft immediately. She kept riding me, taking over control of all the body motion. I swear she came again, which was a hell of a thing. The muscle spasms were really interesting to feel.

She fell forward, breathing heavily, her hair in my face. My slickly covered dick popped out of her and after a moment, she flipped up her hair and looked me in the eyes, a sweat sheen over her whole body.

"Oh yes, you'll do. You'll do very very nicely," she murmured.

She collapsed on me, and I rolled her over a bit, so she fell into the crook of my arm. She snuggled up and just spooned me as close as she could.

We fell asleep like that, waking up only at three am, when I woke to find myself already erect and her moving her lower body around, since my hard cock was pressing into her ass. She moved very gently, but somehow I was inserted into her throbbing and very hot and wet pussy, and that started round two.

This time it was slow, both of us half asleep. She moved gently and so did I, but the friction grew anyway and before fifteen minutes were up, I was exploding inside her again. This time my dick didn't fall out, it just slowly deflated inside her, and we drifted back to sleep that way. It was the best night of my life. I know that may not be a very high bar to clear, but on this one, I think it would have been the best night of any heterosexual man's life.

Morning arrived, and I woke to the sounds of Megan pacing the room, obviously on the phone with someone. She was pacing around and as I came to, I had to place myself. I had found myself doing that a lot on this trip – waking up and wondering where I was.

Megan was conversing in low tones, when she saw me with my eyes open, she put her hand over the mike of the phone and mouthed, "Work" at me. She was wearing just a robe and it was hanging somewhat open, offering tantalizing glimpses of bare breast and tight stomach.

"Yeah, yeah. Right now? Wondering about breakfast I would imagine..."

She smiled at me brightly.

"We're in small place in San Luis ... wait, what?" Her eyes opened in alarm.

"Say that again? Shit. Shit shit shit..." she hissed, eyes unfocused as she concentrated on the phone call.

"Well, that changes it up a bit. We'll get on the road. Yes. Today. I was thinking Santa Cruz next. We'll do that, stay a couple of days and get up to San Francisco. Then up to Oregon."

There was more murmuring.

"We'll keep it low key ... Yes ... Yeah, we can do that ... Oh wait, really? He said he'd do that? Well, yeah, lets do that. That would be ... interesting. Well, yes, that wasn't the word I was thinking of ... sure. Ok. Thanks April. I'll get back to you when we hit Santa Cruz."

She disconnected the call and looked over at me with troubled eyes.

"Well, damn. Our little adventure in LA with Ryan Reynolds and his cohorts is going to cost us. When we made out? It's apparently on YouTube, titled 'This is how you make out', if you can believe it. The bad guys haven't seen it yet, but we have to assume they will. We need to be away from here and up the coast, so, up and at 'em."

I nodded, all conversation about last night that was my immediate thought on waking were gone. I got out of bed and padded to the door.

She saw me and got to the door first, standing in the doorway, smiling at me seductively, her gaze slowly lowering to where I was sporting morning wood.

"But ... we have to shower first, don't we?"

We arrived in Santa Cruz later the day. The tension in the car was palpable. While we'd had a great romp in the shower – and I'd learned that even as tall as I was, I could still get into her with her standing up, leaning forward slightly, if I spread my legs wide enough to lower my groin -, leaving the room felt like venturing out with targets on our backs. We were nervous, looking around, staring at anybody who even glanced at us. It was total day and night from the atmosphere of the night before. That had been full of promise and abandon and pleasure, and now, we both remembered why we were here. People wanted to hurt us. Hell, we'd – I'd - hurt people and they would almost certainly like to hurt me back. It was a sobering thought. After the shower we'd both dried and dressed and Megan had done her best not to catch my eye. It was a little uncomfortable, to be honest, and I didn't really have the experience to know what was wrong, so I'd just given her space, made an excuse and gone back to my room to get dressed and pack.

We got in the car, top up, Megan was wearing dark glasses and she'd asked me to slouch down again – my height was too much of a give away.

We sped away and drove up the coast. Normally, the drive from San Luis Obispo to Santa Cruz would be one to savor. Top down, coastal roads on the edge of a cliff, inspiring views and nature. But we just wanted to get away as fast as possible. The traffic on the single lane road made that difficult; everyone else wanted to take it easy and enjoy the views. We just wanted to find somewhere to hide.

We drove silently, alone with our thoughts. Looking back on it, it probably wasn't the greatest idea in the world, driving along a place here there was poor phone signal, if we got into trouble. Where someone could push us off the cliff edge if they were so disposed. All I can say is that neither of us was really on our game. There was too much that had gone on, too much emotional upheaval - at least for me.

I had no idea what to think or feel. I looked at Megan and I saw a confident, beautiful woman, who knew her way around the world. She had it all. And then I thought about me and what a waste of space I was.

I was damaged goods. I'd been damaged ever since the accident. Physically, of course – that was obvious. But the truth is the emotional damage was just as bad. I had managed to do something right by saving her and April, but that was it. Maybe that was a lot. I didn't know. I was a guy with an empty life and now so much had happened. We were on the lam, hiding from the mob and I'd put us in a situation where they might find us. Megan was my protection and I'd screwed that up too. And for that, she'd had sex with me! It had been glorious, and I'd just gone from one incredible mess to another. You can see, my sense of self had no training in seeing the positive or crediting myself for very much.

And now I was in love. There it was. I'd said it. God knows why. She'd taken pity on me, given me a night I'd never forget. And a morning. And an education. And if I was being honest with myself, which who knows if I was, I'd have admitted that even if the bad guys got me – but not her - it would have been worth it. The last few days had validated my whole life. I felt human. I felt happy. But I couldn't trust it. I loved her, so I had to get away from her. I was nothing but bad news. Why bring it on her?

I shifted uncomfortably in the seat and she glanced over at me and gave me the first smile of the trip. She leaned over and patted my hand said, "Don't be hard on yourself. I can tell what you are thinking. None of this is your fault. And I did it because I wanted to."

She glanced at me, the smile was sardonic and she returned her attention to the road.

"Wait, what?" I said, confused. "How did you know... ?"

She laughed. "You looked at me, and looked at ... intense. Then you looked at yourself in the mirror, shrunk down in the seat a bit, pulled your hat down, then stared moodily out the window. Then you looked back at me. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out your train of thought, given what I know of your background. You feel like you don't deserve me, right? That you are dangerous for me to be around? Am I close?"

Wow, was she good. I just looked away, out the window.

Megan crossed the road, pulled over and screeched the car to a halt, atop a small isthmus, jutting out over the ocean.

She open the door and got out and walked around the car and opened my door and grabbed my arm.

"Out, come on. Get out."

I unfolded my frame and stood, standing next to the open door.

She kicked me in the shin, and I bent down to rub it and as I did so, she grabbed my shirt and pulled me to her and kissed me, hard.

"Now you listen here, Thomas. I kiss the people I want to kiss. I make love to the people I want to make love to. You are not dangerous Thomas. Well, you are, but not to me. I'm only here at all because of you. You play wonderful music, you are kind, attentive, you listen. You have depth. You are like a dream man. And my god, for someone who's had exactly one lover, one time, you are the fastest learner I've ever seen. You turned me inside out last night Thomas. I have experience, and we'll talk about that another time, but my god, that was just great. Sex without feeling is just that, Thomas. But what you did ... well, lets just say, I plan on getting more of that. A lot more, if you are interested. I'm not going anywhere Thomas, I'm not doing this out of pity or as a thank you. I'm interested. In YOU! And for someone with my history, that's nigh on impossible. So stop with your self pity and doubt. You. Did. Not. Start. This. You. Are. Not. Responsible."

She said the last, poking me in the chest.

We stood there and stared at each other for a moment. It occurred to me I should say something.

"Ok then."

"What, that's it? I bare my soul and you just say 'Ok then'?"

"Megan, I don't know what to say. You came into my life like a force of nature. I'm here in California, not knee deep in shit ... I find myself, well, totally out of my depth. There are people chasing us who want to hurt us and I honestly don't know what to do. I don't know what to think. I don't even know what to feel. I do know that I have never felt the way I feel. Something is different. Something is exciting. But I am confused. And scared. And thrilled. And thank you for saying what you just said. It means a lot. Really

She smiled, then laughed, pulled my head down again, kissed me on the cheek and said, brightly, "Good answer. Non-committal, but keeps all the options open. You are way too fast a study. Come on, Santa Cruz awaits!"

And we were back in the car. This time we had music on, and we put the top down.

Santa Cruz was a disappointment, to be honest. It's a fairly dirty city. Megan had never been there before, and we ended up staying at some crappy roadside motel on the edge of town.

We had dinner at some Yelp recommended pizza place and everyone around us looked like a beach bum.

We slept together again that night, this time it was slow, quiet and with lots of long, deep kisses. I fell asleep with her arms around me, and it was nice. It was yet a new experience. For the very first time in my life, I spent an evening knowing I was going to go to bed with a woman. Without paying. Who wanted to be with me. This was a very validating thing. If getting laid by a hottie by surprise was incredible, knowing it was going to happen was pretty damned amazing also.

I was up first next day and I went to get breakfast from the McDonald's at the next corner, and I dragged her out of bed, complaining, and took her down to the beach, where I played some stuff on the violin for her, while she sat eating an Egg McMuffin and throwing bits of hash browns at me.

It was very romantic, so she said.

We did end up with a crowd of early morning walkers around us, listening to my impromptu concert, until someone pulled out a phone to take video and suddenly Megan hustled us out of there.

We spent the day on the boardwalk, where there were roller coaster rides and amusements. Megan screamed appropriately on the old wooden rollercoaster, and clutched at me on some of the more modern rides. It was nice.

We spent one more night in Santa Cruz, sharing a room, but were both too tired from the day, the sun and the wine at dinner to do more than sleep. And that was nice too. Especially because, as we laid down, with my feet sticking off the bottom of the bed, Megan said, sleepily, "It's so nice to go to sleep with someone I want to. Someone I want to wake up with." And then she drifted off, leaving me to ponder the meaning in the words.

The next day we headed to San Francisco, where we stayed at a small apartment in the middle of the city.

San Francisco was great. A terrific city I'd always wanted to visit, and now, here I was. And I barely got to see any of it.

We crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, I saw a tiny bit of Fisherman's Wharf, we had dinner at the House of NanKing – which was awesome by the way – and that's about it.

And I was over the moon about it. Why? Because we spent the rest of the time in bed. Well, not just bed. The couch, the kitchen, the deck, if it had a flat space, we had sex there. Made love there. Made each other an animal. We did it all.

And my education expanded. I learned how to 'edge' Megan. That's where you bring woman to almost her climax, then back off; then do it again. Well, actually she did it to me first. When you have almost come three times, and been dropped back, you are ready to give up anything to finally get there.

I joked that it was the ultimate spy tool; that she'd been taught by Mata Hari, and while she joined in the laugh, it didn't quite reach her eyes.

I learned how to use my fingers to get Megan off in about two minutes flat – two fingers in her pussy, a thumb on her clit, and a finger up her ass.

I learned how to play the erogenous zones – of which there are several – and how to use temperature to get her excited and ready.

And I learned how to have anal sex. There's an art to that, I found out. You don't just stick it in. No woman – or man, I imagine – likes that. You have to take you time, open her up a bit by using fingers and lube. Impatience is what destroys anal sex for most people. Too much impatience to getting you cock into her ass. Take it slowly, get her in the mood, worship the asshole first, get her interested. I learned about mouth to ass, rimming they call it – when it's 'ok', although frankly, for me, it never really would be – and how you never go directly from the ass to the pussy without risking some fairly nasty infections.

I also learned about dirty talk. Now, that's a thing. I laughed the first time she talked about it, all clinical like.

But, used correctly, dirty language can spice up a moment. With the right person, at the right moment, a "Take it, hard. You know you want it" can increase desire. But I did learn it required the right person - you had to read the signs correctly. Calling someone a dirty bitch, when they secretly believe they are one, heightens the moment. Saying it to someone who doesn't believe that ain't good.

We spent almost a week in San Francisco, in basic seclusion, exploring each other. And it was truly a fantastic time. Well, both great and awful. I was falling more and more under her spell and when this was over, it was not going to end well for me. I knew that. I knew I would fall –and hard. But I also realized that no matter how hard the end would be, the here and now was the greatest time of my life and I was going to enjoy it.

We didn't speak of weighty matters – she called back to headquarters, wherever that was, and was reassured that no one had made the YouTube connection yet, although how they knew that I don't really know.

Besides the sex, we talked about our lives as kids – I told her about my life with my parents, what very little I remembered of it, and then the life of being shuttled around foster homes and orphanages. How I learned to play the violin of my two semesters at college; all of it. She was an amazing listener. I could really see how she would have made a great therapist. She had empathy. She asked good questions. She made me feel so comfortable.