Chapter 9
I roared down the midway of the fair grounds, zooming through puddles of rainwater and splitting them wide apart as I hit them. Beyond me was the entrance to the carnival, and beyond that the highway. My engine throbbed and pulsated as I shot towards the gate, praying that I would not be too late, that I would find her in time to make her love me.
I smashed through the gate, and now I was onto the highway, the boundless limitless ribbon of asphalt that touched the horizon in two directions. But which way should I go? In the distance, to the left, I thought I saw a cloud that looked like Diana beckoning to me to come forth, and I turned my handlebars and roared off to meet her.
There was not a car in sight, which was good. I poured on the speed, sending my Honda rushing forward faster and faster, searching for a van with a Dayglo sign that said "DAREDEVIL DIANA." And in that van would be the woman I had to possess.
It was raining harder now, and beneath the low rumble of the thunder I heard another rumble, lower but more ominous. It was the protesting motor beneath me, and I remembered that when I defeated Diana on the race course my engine had been making distressing noises. Those noises were getting louder now, and I did not know if I would be able to make the engine last, if it would live long enough to carry me to the woman I loved.
I roared past a billboard, and from behind it came another motorcycle. For one brief fleeting second of delight I thought that I had found Diana at last, and that we were both racing down the race track again towards the erotic delights that lay beyond. But then I saw that the motorcycle was being driven by a policeman, and he was shouting something to me about a speed limit. I lashed out with one foot and the cop was sprawling in the mud on the highway. And then I realized that I was on the road too, and the cop was on top of me, and I was pushing him off and I saw my motorcycle and I leaped back onto it and then I realized that I was driving the cop's motorcycle but I didn't care because I was on my way to see DianaDianaDiana.
And then far off ahead of me I could see a speck on the road, and I couldn't tell if it was the van or a motorcycle or a car or a hitchhiker or what. But I knew that it was something moving, and I rushed to intercept it, and all the time it was raining harder and harder.
The speck was getting bigger, and I could see that it was a van, the van I was looking for. I could see the sign on the side that meant I had found the woman I seeked. And then as I roared closer to meet it I saw that the sign said "KELCEY'S BEANS", and it was the wrong truck and I cursed and I kept on driving and it kept on raining harder and harder and harder.
And then all of a sudden there was a big bump in the road that jumped out and attacked me, and I was flying through the air cursing and screaming and crying all at once, and I hit the shoulder of the road and landed in the mud and I was rolling down into the grass and I could see the frogs leaping to get out of my way as I fell past them and landed in the water.
I felt no pain.
I stood up with effort and tried to drain the muddy water from my soaking wet clothes. But it was raining harder than ever and I knew that I wouldn't get any drier this way. I climbed up off the river bank and back onto the road, and every step of the way my boots made an unpleasant squishing sound as I walked.
I climbed back onto the road. Lying there staring at me angrily was the cop's motorcycle that I'd stolen. Its guts had been twisted and torn out and it was bleeding its fuel supply all over the road. I knew that I had to get away from that motorcycle, or what was left of it, as fast as possible, before the cops showed up and got me busted.
I had lost my motorcycle, and I had lost my friends, and I had lost Diana. I would never have the chance to make love to her, to make her submit to my advances. The only things I had left were the dirty wet clothes on my back and the prize money in my wallet, which was probably soaking wet and rotting to bits this very minute.
I stood on the yellow line in the center of the road and started walking down it. 1 didn't know if I was walking back towards the fair grounds and the cop who was waiting to arrest me or if I was walking away from them all. I didn't know and I didn't care.
The rain had let up a little, but that didn't matter much at this point, because by now I was as wet as I ever could be.
Up ahead of me, in the haze that always forms after a country rain, I could see a building with a big flashing sign out front. After a while I realized that it was a motel. By now I was tired and I needed a place to flop, and I would have gone in there whether it was a motel or a hotel or a bordello or a gay bar. I just needed some place to lie down and stop living.
I'd won the race, but I'd lost Diana. So in the long run, she had won after all. She had won and I had lost. Now I felt as though I was disappearing, evaporating bit by bit. First my prick, and then the rest of me, dissolving in the rain.
But still I kept walking towards that motel, walking like an automaton, like a robot who can do only what he has been programmed to do. I had no other purpose in life than to walk towards that motel, simply because there was nothing else I could possibly do, except fall down in the road and die.
And then I was coming into the motel parking lot, and stumbling around between the cars and trucks and motorcycles, bouncing back and forth like a ball in a pinball machine, until finally with one last cry of anguish I fell down under the wheels of a truck with grey sidesand black tires and a Dayglo sign that said "DAREDEVIL DIANA".
Diana!
I stood up, and my head blew up as it smashed against the chassis of the truck. There was blood in my mouth but I stood up and was staggering across the parking lot towards the entrance to the motel, towards Diana, towards the woman I hungered for.
The door to the motel was right before me, and I came through it and then I was in the lobby, and I saw people staring at me as I stood in the middle of the carpet and shouted "Where is she?...Where is she?" I sounded like some brutal jungle beast calling for his mate.
People were coming towards me, but I didn't want them. All I wanted was Diana. "Where is she?" I ranted, in ever-mounting fury.
"He's drunk," muttered somebody. "Call the police." And then people were picking me up and carrying me off someplace.
"I'm not drunk!" I ranted. "I want Diana!
Where is she? WHERE IS SHE?" And then a door was opening and I was flying through the air and sprawling in the mud again, sprawling in the mud in the middle of the motel parking lot.
I got up and ran. I'd come this far, I wasn't going to be stopped at the threshold of my desires.
To one side of the front of the building was a huge tree, and I managed to climb up it and get onto the second floor of the building. It was one of those examples of modern architecture where every floor has an edge of cement sticking outwards. I managed to stand on this ledge and leap up to the next one, catching it with both hands and pulling myself onto it with effort. I had no idea which floor Diana was on or which room she was in, but I knew that I'd keep looking until I found her.
I climbed up onto the fourth story, and then the fifth. It was an eight-story building, and it was getting harder and harder to climb up to the next floor each time. When I leaped up to grab the sill of the fifth floor one hand missed it completely, and for an instant I hung there by the fingers of one hand, and then I fell down towards the ground and there was a pain in my spine as I fell onto the ledge I'd just left. Groaning painfully, I managed to stand up and jump again, and this time I caught the sill, but just barely.
Everything was slippery from the rain.
Next came the sixth floor, and I had to leap several times but I still couldn't jump high enough to catch it. On the third leap I fell heavily back down onto the sill below, and I screamed in anguish as I felt my heels go over the edge and I was falling through space.
But I managed to regain my balance at the very last moment, and I sank to my knees and leaned against the side of the building five stories up, moaning and sobbing in pain.
Slowly I got to my feet and leaped one more time at that sixth floor sill, and this time I made it. I clambered onto it and jumped for the seventh, and when at last I had it I sank gratefully onto it and lay spreadeagled, gasping for breath.
Now that I'd rested a little I realized what was going on. I was on the seventh floor of an eight-floor building, and I had no idea at all what room Diana had. The odds were that I'd passed her already. I would have to go back down and check every floor, a room at a time, probably getting arrested for being a Peeping Tom. Already I'd kicked a policeman and stolen his motorcycle, and the manager of the motel had probably called the cops to tell them about the drunk who'd fallen into his lobby. If somebody in one of these rooms saw me and had me reported as a Peeping Tom then I'd really get my ass handed to me. But if I could just get one last look at Diana I knew that I could take on all the policemen in the world.
I knew that I ought to go back downwards and check every room, but as long as I'd climbed up to the seventh floor I might as well take that last jump to the eighth. So I tried, but it took several leaps before I finally felt the concrete between my hands, and with throbbing fingers I managed to pull myself up onto the last, final ledge.
I stood up, breathing harder than I ever had in my life. If I fucked Diana right now I'd probably have a heart attack. But it would be worth it. I looked around. There were five bedrooms on this side of the eighth floor of the motel, and God knew how many on the other sides. I staggered towards the first room and looked in. A man and a woman were in there screwing, and doing a very bad job of it. I was tempted to bang on the window and wave to them, but they made such a disgusting sight that I couldn't stand looking at them, so I lurched towards the next room.
Instead of a man and a woman trying and failing to fuck, I saw something in the second room even more disgusting: two queers doing the same thing. My, my, my. I groaned with pain as my aching body begged me to lie down and die on the spot, and I managed to pull myself towards the next window.
I was anxious to see the next one.
In the first room I'd seen a man doing it to a woman. In the second room I'd seen a man doing it to a man. I couldn't even imagine what I would see in the third room.
What I saw turned out to be absolutely nothing. The curtains were drawn, which was dumb because when you've got a bedroom on the eighth floor who's going to come looking in the window? Me, of course. Through the crack where the curtains joined I could see darkness, and if I listened closely I could hear two voices giggling and making incoherent sounds. I couldn't tell whether the voices were two men or two women or one of each or maybe even Martians but I could tell that neither one was Diana and that was all that mattered. I staggered on towards the fourth room.
The fourth room had a family in it, a father and a mother and a bunch of dumb-looking kids. None of them were looking at me except for one fat ugly little boy who looked like he was a pig wearing overalls. The kid saw me and started jumping up and down and screaming, but by the time his parents turned to see what he was yelling at I was gone. I hoped the kid would tell his parents about what he'd seen and they'd beat his ass off for being such a liar.
Now I was coming to the fifth room. It was the last room on this side of the eighth floor, and if Diana wasn't in it I would either have to climb down to the seventh floor or else figuring out some way of climbing around the side of the building without falling off.
The fifth room had the curtains open, but I couldn't see into the room very well because the lights were out and it was dark in there. I remembered that when I'd gone into the motel lobby I'd passed a VACANCY sign, and realized that this room, and probably some of the other rooms, were unoccupied.
Now I was stymied. There was no way I could climb around to the back of the motel without going down to the ground and around the building and up all over again, and there wasn't any way I could climb down this side because by now I was so hot and tired that if I tried to climb down to the seventh floor I'd just miss it and keep on going. So I was stuck like a fuckin' cat in a tree.
And what was worse, I'd lost Diana.
Then I had an idea: maybe I could break into this unoccupied room somehow and sneak back downstairs to the lobby. From there I might be able to find out what room Diana was in, even though I knew the motel manager would probably shoot me on sight.
The idea might work.
I pushed against the window slightly to see if it would open. It did. I pushed more, but somehow the window was stuck, and I saw that the edge of it was caught on a chair back that was up against the window inside the room. I managed to squeeze my arm through the partially opened window and get the chair out of the way. It made a scraping noise as it slid across the floor, but I knew that there was no one to hear it.
The chair was out of the way, and I managed to ease the window open and climb into the darkened room. I shut the window and leaned against it for a second to rest.
In the distance, far, far off I could hear water running.
I got away from the window and started walking across the room towards the door when I saw something that caught my eye. On a chair near the door was a leather glove, a woman's leather glove just like the ones Diana had been wearing. Diana had been in this room! She might be coming back any minute!
I could hear the water running louder now, and I realized that Diana was in the bathroom adjoining the room. I came towards it, and from the other side of the bathroom door I could hear Diana's voice as she hummed to herself. I had found her at last!
In my eagerness I stepped forward and banged my foot on the edge of the bed. I let out a howl of pain and a curse, and I heard a hissing sound as the water was turned off in the bathroom.
"Who's there?" said a voice. Diana's voice.
I didn't answer. Slowly the doorknob turned, and then slowly the door opened. Because Diana had been in the bathroom I figured she'd been taking a bath, and she would be naked, but then she was standing there and I saw that she was exactly the same as she'd been when I'd last seen her, except that she'd taken off her gloves and her orange sunglasses. But she still had on that tight one-piece suit with the zipper down the front, and the leather hip boots.
Diana was standing there, and I was standing there, and she was so beautiful, and I was so dirty and ugly and I wanted to rape her.
"It's you," she said.
"Get out," she said.
I stumbled towards her. "Diana," I mumbled through lips that were thick and swollen. "I want you. I followed you all the way here from the fair grounds. The police are after me. I lost my motorcycle. I lost everything I had. I almost killed myself trying to find you. I want you. I want your body. I want your flesh. I want your cunt. I want you."
"Get out," she said again, and then when she saw I wasn't going to obey she went towards the telephone. "Operator, give me the police."
"No!" I lunged forward and snatched the phone, tore it out of the wall with one savage swipe of my hand. Now Diana and I were alone in the room.
"Lay me," I said to her. She thought I was mad! "You're crazy," she replied. "Now get out of my way."
"Lay me or I'll have to rape you," I told her, coming closer. "You lesbians are all alike," I went on angrily. "You all think you're such hot shit. You all think that you can make love to a woman as well as a man. Well, you're wrong. And I'm going to teach you you're wrong. I'm going to rape you."
She was backing away, and I knew that she was trying to reach the door. "Don't run away," I told her. "Come here. Come here and get raped."
"NO!" she turned and bolted towards the door. But then I had her by the waist and I was dragging her, kicking and screaming and cursing back towards the bed.
I pushed her down on top of it and held her down with one arm. With the other hand I tried to snatch that zipper that was going all the way down her body, but it was hard to grab it because she was struggling so much.
'That's why I'm a dyke, you bastard," she spat at me. "Because all you men ever think about is sex. I don't want men. I want women. Women are nice, and gentle, and they care about each other. All men care about is sex."
"What else is there?" I said. "And now I had that zipper, and I was sliding it down, sliding it down between those big glorious tits of hers and down to her twat below. I pushed her cycling suit from her body as though I were unpeeling an orange, tugged it off her to reveal her bra and panties underneath. I yanked the bra from her chest with one stroke, and she cried out as the straps dug into her skin and then broke. Then I tugged off her panties too, and now she was naked save for those two leather hip boots. But they weren't hiding what I was after, so I let her keep them.
My pants were open now, and she was cursing me as I pulled out my cock, telling me that she wasn't interested in my meat or any other man's. But then she saw how big and huge and hard and swollen my meat was, and she hesitated for a moment, just long enough for me to grab her thighs and yank them apart like a wishbone.
She screamed, but I rammed my mouth down on top of hers to shut her up, and as I did so I thrust my quivering organ into her reluctant captive flesh. I started pumping, and I felt her body recoiling from mine, trying to regurgitate the huge organ that was violating her flesh, but I was inside her by now and she couldn't stop me.
I had my arms around her as I fucked her harder and harder, and my mouth was on hers, and our tongues touched, and I felt her tongue trying to get away from mine, but gradually I forced it to accept me, and then she found herself against her will tonguing me, and I was tonguing her in return.
And as I was screwing her I felt her hard, obstinate flesh slowly soften, slowly give way, slowly submit.
"Oh, God," she moaned, as I felt my organ grow big within her. "I never had a man who could do that to me. That's why I switched to women. But you're good. You're fuckin' good."
"Do you want me?" I breathed, pressing downwards to kiss her nipples, to tease them into erectness.
"No," she said. "I don't want you or any other man. Let me go and leave me alone."
But she was more calm, now.
But still I kept on pumping, forcing her to give in, forcing her to submit.
"Oh, please," she begged of me. "Don't do this. It feels so strange. I don't want it."
"It feels GOOD, baby, and you know it," I told her. "You know you want it but you won't admit it."
"I don't want it," she said, as I tongued her nipples into bright red erections. "It feels strange."
I pumped harder then, and harder, and soon I could feel myself getting more excited, and then I was creaming, creaming into her hole, and when she felt that red-hot torrent of passion the dam broke.
"Oh, yes!" she hollered. "I was wrong! I want it! Give it to me, because I want it. I want it! I WANT IT!"
I pumped harder.