Epilogue
Well there's nothing like a good bit of fucking to make fast friends or enemies. Jim's woman--whose name turned out to be Rona--was soon as chummy with me as could be. Her former jealousy had been changed in the course of that wonderful fuck into a tremendous feeling of sisterhood. She was perfectly willing to share Jim-with me or with any other woman for that matter because she now realized that the bisexual fucking she could expect in return paid tremendous dividends of pleasure. And Jim, who had formerly feared his woman's jealousy, and who had thus been depriving himself of some of the world's finest pleasures-not counting of course the gang fucks in which he would engage on the sly-now found himself enjoying himself more than ever and feeling closer to Rona than he ever had. He was grateful to her for her understanding and they were more turned on to each other than ever before because they could see more aspects of the other's sexuality.
I myself felt very proud of having been the agent of their new sexual awareness. Of course the main idea of one's sexuality is to provide pleasure for oneself, but it's also nice to know that you can bring a little joy to others here and there along the line.
Well, I stayed on with them for a few days. It was a wonderful time of long talks, snared drunks, and tremendous amount of exquisite fucking. In addition to the three of us, a couple of Jim's biker friends paid visits and we managed to get some pretty good foursomes and fivesomes in which Rona was an active and enthusiastic participant. They seemed to be happier than ever and the affection that I had always felt for Jim now came back redoubled. I felt very relieved and relaxed that I didn't have to hide my feelings for him-Rona would understand that I didn't want to take him away, I just wanted to dig him and, yes, even love him in my own way. After all, it had been Jim who had introduced me to all this sex, and also to the joys of motorcycles. He had played a very important role in my life-it was his own special sort of intensity and the horny but restrained look in his deep eyes that first really awakened the depth of my own sexuality.
The three of us got along so well that after a few days Rona asked me to stay on with them on an indefinite basis. We could be a sort of motorcycle ménage a trios, and the three of us would all be on equal ground in terms of each other. It was a tempting offer and it showed just how far Rona had come in her own sexual awakening.
But not without a certain amount of regret, I turned down the offer. I had bought the motorcycle to be on the road, and I intended to stay oh the road for a good while. No offer, no matter how tempting it was, would have been able to hold me back at this point. Jim and Rona and the city of Los Angeles would no doubt have offered me opportunities for wonderful fucking and opportunities, to meet some really far-out people. But what I was most in the mood for was traveling. What I wanted to do was move around, to see every highway in this country, to wield my big Kawasaki through every state of the union.
I can't explain the feeling exactly, but it's somehow linked to my sex life. I want to be everywhere and experience everything. I want to be free and I want to be on the road. The thought of leaving my motorcycle parked in front of a house and of just using it to run out to the store to buy groceries or to take an occasional trip to the shore for the weekend was just not my idea of what riding is all about. No, I'm the type who likes to do the cross-country touring, who doesn't like to have a home base, only for a few days at a time.
So one day, about a week after my first arrival in Los Angeles, I quietly slipped out of the apartment. Jim and Rona were still asleep, sleeping off the fatigue from a full day's fucking the day before, and I just left them a note on the kitchen table thanking them for their hospitality and telling them that I'd stop back sometime. Long good-byes have never been my style, and I didn't want the tears or the platitudes that I was sure would accompany my departure. So I just left my note on the kitchen table and kissed them each softly on the forehead, being careful not to wake them, and I left. Outside, I climbed onto my bike, started it up, and headed out of LA onto the open road.