Chapter 7
Back at the loft, Dean hurriedly packed a few essential belongings. He was sober now, and horribly afraid that he had killed Eva. The events of the night had so confused him that he could think only of escape. But where was he to go? He sat on the edge of the bed, cradling his throbbing head in shaky hands. Then he remembered hearing about a small town in Mexico where some friends had once visited, returning with glowing reports of its beauty and seclusion. They had also mentioned, it seemed, an American artist colony in the area.
He arose and walked over to a dresser where he shuffled through some maps for the ones he would need, then took a folded wad of bills from the leather jewelry box where he kept his money. He counted the bills and found more than enough for his trip; he was glad that he had saved some of his pay from the job at the gas station. He took one last look around as he headed for the door, suitcase in hand. The dozen or so sculptures had already been taken to the art gallery, and small areas of cleanliness showed where the bases had stood on the unswept floor. Even in his panic to get away, Dean felt a twinge of excitement, knowing that his work would be shown publicly within a few weeks. Then he closed the door behind him, and sprinted toward his car.
Leaving the sleeping city behind, Dean sped south on the freeway. It was several hours before his panic fully left him, and his hands began to relax their white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. By this time the sun was coming up, and the road came alive with small-town commuters and salesmen getting an early start. As he recovered his composure, Dean realized he was very hungry, and he turned off at the next exit to find a restaurant.
Coming back to the freeway with a good breakfast under his belt, Dean began to figure the mileage to Mexico. Going directly south, it would only take a day's driving to reach the border. He was trying hard to imagine what Mexico would look like, when he saw the girl standing on the curve of the cloverleaf with her thumb out. He pulled onto the shoulder a few years ahead of her, and pushed open the right-hand door. The girl hesitated before getting in, and Dean took a good look at her.
She was the strangest-looking girl, though undeniably pretty, that he had ever seen. Instead of an ordinary coat or jacket, she wore a royal purple cape of satin-like material. Her long black hair, parted at the middle, was undisciplined, almost frizzy, and between its cascading waves was a full, sensuous face lined with experience, almost a hardness that seemed inconsistent with her youth.
"How far ya going?" she asked him, in a rough voice.
"Los Angeles," he lied. He didn't want to take any unnecessary chances.
"Groovy," replied the girl. "That means I won't have to spend another night in one of these damn hick towns." She tossed an ancient carpetbag behind the seats and climbed in. Dean pulled onto the highway, and soon the Porsche was speeding south again. "Which damn hick town did you have to stay in last night?" he asked her, mimicking her rough language good-naturedly. She did not appear to notice the jibe. "Salinas," she replied, with a trace of disgust. "I took a room in a cheap motel, and they wouldn't leave me alone. The cops kept coming in to check me out on all sorts of pretenses. Guess they figured to find some grass on me or something. But I don't need to risk a fuckin' pot bust as long as I've got some of this good stuff in my bag." With that, she reached behind her and brought out a pint bottle of whiskey. She uncapped it, took a healthy swig, and held it out toward Dean. "No, thanks," he told her. "I think I'd rather stay straight today." She laughed, as if mocking his sobriety. It was a coarse laugh, as her language was coarse. Another man might have been dismayed at these unladylike qualities, but Dean found them refreshing. He sensed an earthy honesty in the girl, which appealed to him.
As they drove along, the girl spoke freely about herself. Her name was Mandy, she said; she was a blues singer, and had just split up with a well-known Los Angeles rock group. She didn't know where the next job would come from, and she didn't care. What she needed now was a chance to relax after the strain of constant performances and tours. She had just gone to San Francisco to see about organizing a new group, and her car had broken down while she was there. "So I sold the goddam thing and decided to hitch back to L.A., " she told him. "Now I'm going to lie around that little old goddam beach and let things kinda settle themselves."
Dean, on the other hand, volunteered little information about himself. He told her only his first name, and that he was a sculptor. "I just don't feel like talking much about myself right now," he explained. Mandy didn't seem to mind. She settled back to watch the scenery, reaching back occasionally for a nip at her bottle. They drove on silently for a long while, and Dean mulled over the frightening flurry of recent events. He felt as if he had escaped from a nightmare, and was glad for the soothing pleasure of sun and wind against his left arm as it rested on the door, and for the steady growl of the engine. Slowly, the nightmare faded as he realized that he was indeed escaping, and he began to relax. He glanced over at the girl beside him. She had fallen asleep, and the hard lines in her face had softened, so that she looked younger now, and very desirable. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles, and the purple cloak had fallen open. The long, shapely limbs were bared to his gaze from her sandals all the way to the hem of her brief skirt, which had ridden well up her thighs. Dean sighed to himself as desire for this strange girl welled up within him. Cautiously, he removed his right hand from the steering wheel and reached out to touch her. She stirred only slightly in her sleep as he pressed his palm against her bare knee. Encouraged by her sleepy acquiescence, he slid his hand farther up, testing and exploring the soft regions of her thigh with his fingertips. As he stroked the silky skin, he felt his pulse begin to race with excitement. His cock began to throb and grow, pressing anxiously against the unyielding fabric of his Levi's. Mandy stirred again in her sleep, uncrossing her legs to give the intruding hand better access, and Dean flipped away the hem of the brief skirt to find her naked beneath it. The fluffy black triangle of hair, with the full lips barely visible beneath it, lay invitingly between the whiteness of her hips. He cupped his hand over the tempting mound, extending his middle finger downwards to trace a line up and down the entrance to her cunt. The warm flesh seemed to open for him, already growing slippery with the juices of arousal. By this time, Mandy was awake and aware, and she made it clear that she was entirely pleased with the turn of events. "Go on," she murmured, regarding Dean through half-closed eyes, "push it in."
He complied, inserting his finger slowly and moving it around inside her. By this time, he could barely keep his mind on driving. A few hundred yards ahead of them was a turnoff, beside which rose a grassy hill. He slowed the car and pulled over. Mandy had straightened her disarranged clothing and sat up beside him. Dean cut the engine and turned to Mandy. He kissed her, and she responded eagerly. Her mouth opened to him, and her warm tongue boldly probed along his lips and teeth. She reached over and squeezed the quivering bulge in his pants. "Come on," he breathed in her ear, "let's get out of the car."
Slamming the doors behind them, they scrambled together up the hill. At the top, they passed through a cleft between two huge rocks. Once behind the wall of stone, they were invisible from the road. Dean pulled off his clothes in a great hurry and tossed them in a pile at the base of the rock. He stood there, tall and gleaming in the sunlight, his outthrust cock pointing directly at Mandy, who removed her purple cloak and the scant clothing beneath it with slow, sensual movements, laying the garments in a neat pile on the grass. Then she lay back on the ground with her knees wide apart and beckoned to Dean. As he came toward her, she reached down and pulled the lips of her cunt apart with her fingers. Dean was drawn to the glistening flesh beneath the black triangle as if by a magnet. He fell on his knees and buried his mouth between her legs with a groan of lust. Her hips rose to meet him as his tongue squirmed inside her and licked a hot path up and down her slit. He cupped her tensed buttocks in his hands and drank of her juices as a half-starved dog might burrow into its feeding-dish. The delicious odor and taste of her sex washed over him until he was in a perfect frenzy. His cock twitched frantically in the space between them. Finally Mandy's hands were on his back, pulling him over her. He entered her, and the slippery passage yielded just enough to allow the intrusion of his cock and no more. He could feel her closing hotly around every sensitive square inch of his throbbing organ. He began driving in and out, slowly at first, slowly until he found her rhythm; then they began to move as one body. Dean could feel that she was close to orgasm, having been so well aroused by his torrid foreplay. They ground against each other's bodies with increasing speed until a switch seemed to catch deep within Mandy's body, and she began to come. A low growl came from her throat as she lifted herself off the ground and sank her teeth into Dean's shoulder. Dean, who had been holding himself back until now, felt his own orgasm start like a white-hot sun in his balls. At the height of her ride, Mandy slipped a deft finger into his anus, and the sun exploded, spewing a thick stream of lava deep inside her.
A few minutes later, they lay side by side in the warm grass. Dean closed his eyes. He was grateful for the release and relaxation after the tension of the past hours, but a twinge of panic seized him as he realized the necessity for reaching the border quickly. Just as he was about to suggest that they move on, he felt Mandy's hot mouth closing on the head of his resting prick. He struggled against the voluptuous sensation momentarily, but soon gave in to the need that she was renewing in his flesh. Her moist lips slid repeatedly to the root of his limp member, pressing it firmly until it sprang in little jerks to full erection once more. Having accomplished this change in his condition, she lifted her head from between his legs and began to trace moist lines around his torso with her tongue. She lingered over his nipples, teasing them with little nips until he squirmed with the sensation, then quickly ran her tongue over and into his armpit. Here she doted over his skin with her talented mouth much as he had burrowed earlier in her crotch, arousing delicious sensations in an area Dean had never imagined might be erotically sensitive.
Then her tongue quickly retraced its path, and he again felt the heat of her breath on his jumping cock. But this time she transferred her attentions lower, to his balls, sucking them gently and scraping her teeth lightly over his tingling scrotum. After a few moments of these skillful ministrations, he felt her hands under his buttocks, lifting him at the hips. As his legs fell loosely apart, her mouth left his balls, and her tongue darted hotly into his anus. Finally, Dean could stand it no longer. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her over him. Mandy willingly positioned herself, and, taking his throbbing member in hand, directed it straight to her cunt. She impaled herself up to the hilt, then began to ride him. As she moved against him, she leaned forward and back, alternately arousing unique and varied sensations. Then she raised herself, and spun around with just the tip of Dean's cock inside her until she was facing away from him. As she moved up and down upon him, Dean was doubly excited by the fine view afforded him of his cock sliding in and out of her through the cleft of her delicious buttocks. Then she began moving up and down faster and faster, until his cock was pumping in and out of her like the piston of an automobile engine. It wasn't long before she began to moan and Dean felt her cunt begin its pulsing contractions. Placing his palms against the grass, he steadied himself and rose to meet her thrusts. Finally he began to come. He could feel the muscled thrust of each spurt as he spewed his thick fluid into her spending cunt. He opened his eyes and saw the sun had moved with uncanny speed toward the west.