Having had no sleep the night before, they took a nap after lunch under a picnic table they'd turned into a beach side cabana.
When they awoke they were hot and sweaty. They decided to go for a swim and clean up before cycling into town.
Despite her grief over Jack Steeple and Doc, Angel became turned on by Todd as they played in the water like children.
Suddenly getting a severe cramp, she hollered out. Coming to her rescue, Todd swooped her up and carried her to shore.
On hotel sheets spread beneath the picnic table, he tended to her and soon began smothering her with kisses.
Before she could say, "Don't do that!" Todd had removed his swim trunks and lay flat on his back.
"Take care of it!" he said pointing south,
"touch it baby . . .stroke it . . ." he groaned.
"I can't . . ." she said looking away.
"Sure you can . . . ."
Reaching over to his backpack he took out a travel pint of apricot brandy. "Take a swig for me . . . yourself . . . it'll relax you."
Immediately she felt warm and tingly all over--no longer did she want to resist--him or herself.
Now she knew why her dad called alcohol, "medicine" and her mom called it "poison".
She'd never had one drop prior to this and found that although it made her feel good, it went straight to her head making her limp as a rag doll.
Before long Todd opened up a second pint.
Soon both bottles were gone and so were they, instead of enhancing their physical desire, it decreased it.
Passed out cold in each others arms, his stiff cock was now lame and her pussy sound asleep.
For two hours more they slept tangled up in each others arms, where Angel found herself in the midst of a vivid wet dream.
At the end of it she had a powerful climax that caused her to scream long and loud.
It woke her and Todd and God knows who else. Slowly they realized where they were.
Slipping his trunks on and nestling back into the sand, Todd held Angel close and told her he was sorry about taking off his suit like he did, exposing himself uninvited.
Nuzzling her neck, he murmured in her ear, "That must have been quite the dream, do you want to tell me about it?"
Before she could begin, their serenity was interrupted by a hard, loud rapping on the picnic table above them.
"What the hell is going on under there!"
Peaking out from under the table Todd could see it was college boy, a summer park ranger tapping his foot, anxious to show off his authority.
Knowing the type, he decided he'd better act humble to avoid trouble.
Raising a corner of the bed sheet, he poked his head out and politely assured him.
"Everything is okay Officer. My girlfriend and I were taking a nap . . . . She had a really bad nightmare. It woke us both up . . . sorry if we disturbed you or anyone in the park."
As soon as he left Angel got up, grabbed her towel and backpack and ran to find the nearest bath house.
Catching up to her, Todd said, "Angel, I'm sorry, I temporarily lost control. Don't be afraid, I wasn't going to let you do anything you'd regret later."
Truth was, after the wet dream, she was more afraid of HERSELF than him.
Anxious to make her way to the bath house, she picked up her pace, and promptly fell down in the sand within a few yards of the bath house.
Feeling like a knife stabbed her in the right side below her rib cage, she grabbed herself and bent over in pain.
Putting his arm around her, Todd said, "You poor kid, don't you know what that is? Those are passion pains. Make love to me tonight and I can make them go away."
"Yeah, sure. Todd, you ARE incorrigible. Thanks for trying to help though. Right now I need to get cleaned up and use the restroom. So please leave me alone for little while, okay?"
It took forever to clean herself up. Her face was all red with scratches from his early morning beard and make-up wasn't covering the damage.
Her mop of blond hair was so tangled and full of sand she could barely drag a comb through it to shampoo.
Finally, cleaned up and in a fresh change of clothes, she met Todd coming her way.
"Look," he said, "we need to find a room before it gets any later. I promise we'll just sleep if that's what you want. I won't bother you."
Exhausted, she said, "Okay, but remember, we only do wholesome stuff and sleep, nothing else."
Once they checked in, they weren't in the room five minutes, when he suggested they take their clothes off so they wouldn't get them wrinkled.
Knowing that was asking for trouble, she told him, "I'll sleep with mine on . . . ."
Collapsing on one of the twin beds, Angel massaged her stomach and worried she might have appendicitis.
A half hour later her cries brought Todd to her side where she was doubled up in pain with tears rolling down her cheeks.
Trying to play it down, she kidded him, "If this is pain from passion you can have it--it's no fun!"
Then it hit her. The pain was familiar. She'd had it once before, a few years ago when her period was due.
Getting up she went to the bathroom and discovered she was bleeding.
Realizing it had indeed begun, she let out a long breath and said, "Thank God!"
Knocking on the door, Todd asked, "Are you all right?"
"Much better, knowing what's wrong with me. My time of the month . . ."
"I'm glad it's not serious and you're okay. I need to leave for awhile, I won't be gone long. Get some more rest if you can."
When she woke, Todd was sitting at the side of her bed telling her that a bus en-route to the boat docks would be arriving at the inn within the half hour.
"I think it would be best for you to go back to Boston and for me to stay here. I have some time off and could use a vacation."
As she got on the bus, Todd kissed her on the forehead saying, "Sorry it didn't work out. Feel better. I'll see you next week at the cafe. We'll go to a movie after breakfast, get out of this heat-wave."
Now with no worries, three aspirin and a cold pack on her head, she felt better and better, as the bus made its way back to Boston.
She spoke into her hand recorder she used as a diary.
"Life is good. I'm not, "With child," as granny would say.
Waiting for the Red-Line to Harvard Square, once again she recorded her feelings.
"It's been the greatest day I've had in years . . . and I've still got tonight and all day tomorrow to re-coop from this hang-over . . . ."
Now she never needed to run away again.
Her life in one day had become a super highway leading anywhere she wanted.
Free, free at last. From her awful home life, the convent, Jack Steeple, and Doc.
All the residues of hatred she'd felt were washed away and there was nothing left but love and gratitude towards all.
Blessing past predicaments to her growth, she asked her maker to forgive the parts she played, should any forgiveness be needed.
Then she let them all go, one person at time. Released them to their greater good.
It was a good feeling and she
hoped it would last. If not at least she knew it was possible.
A few days later at midnight before the usual bar crowd came in, a well dressed, man showed up at the cafe.
Normally she did not go for men prettier than she was, but this one was downright mesmerizing. Unbelievably drop dead gorgeous.
He had no trouble catching Angel's eye.
When he saw her looking his way, he motioned for her to come over to where he stood by the cash register.
Perfect in every way, he stood before her with his athletic build, soft dark curly hair, snapping blue eyes, and dentist perfect teeth behind kiss-me lush lips.
Not a word did he speak. He wrote on a legal pad that he wanted to be seated in her section. At the bottom he drew a smiley face and signed it, "Dick".
After reading the menu, he wrote his order out and handed it to her. When she brought his bill, he again wrote her a note.
"Thanks for being so helpful . . . would you ever consider going out on a date with a deaf man? Don't answer me now. Think about it, I'll be back tomorow night . . . ."
That night Dick returned to his home and crawled into bed. In the next room was his wife who had told him the month before, she wanted a divorce.
For practical reasons, they planed to continue sleeping under the same roof and sharing the bills.
They didn't have to worry about a sex life because there wasn't any. Hadn't been for several years.
Not being able to sleep. He went downstairs and sank into his big brown leather Rip Van Winkle chair.
Putting his feet upon the matching ottoman, he closed his eyes and thought of Angel, what it would be like to place his hand on her round behind and shove one knee between hers.
He could almost hear her groan, her telling him, how much she needed him.
Concentrating on his growing erection, his hand turned his desire for her into raw animal lust.
Placing wet fingers against his neck, they became her kisses working their way down his torso, teasing him unmercifully.
Taking his stiff rod from the fly on his satin pajamas, he imagined she could see him, wanted to touch the satin, see how it felt, have an excuse to ravage him.
"Do it, keep doing it, keep doing it, never stop . . . " he heard her say in the movie that played in his head.
He thought he could feel her now, her silky skin, her soft belly, her tongue teasing him driving him wild.
Bearing down on his erection with a moan and groan she breathlessly moaned.
"I love you to fuck me like this, make me cum . . . ."
Picturing her as he saw her at the cafe, he fought the urge to mentally raise her skirt, take down her panties and have sex in the very booth she had served him in.
If he allowed himself to visualize that, it would be over, he would surely cum and cum hard.
The thought of it was to much, to intense.
Nevertheless, he kept letting his mind wander and take a peak . . . seeing a customer walking in the cafe . . . watching him, while he satisfied lust's call.
The vision of it all added poignant pain to his already too sweet pleasure.
Switching channels in his mind, he let himself see her home coming with him, in his den, his beloved chair.
It was so right for the two of them together. He kissed the hollow of her throat, her breasts and the sweet nipples that adorned them.
Looking deep into her eyes he opened his mouth and let his tongue taste them, feed upon them like baby in his arms.
She moaned and arched her back as she watched him through watery eyes heavy with lust and longing.
Exploring her flesh, he visualized her tormenting him and his stroking increased.
Hearing footsteps intruding his space, he looked up and saw his wife looking down.
She was standing over him with a smirk on her face signing,
"Dick, what are you doing!"
What the hell did she think he was doing. She had deprived him of sex for the past two years. "What do you think?" he signed back, "do my needs surprise you?"
Had he stood up to confront her, escort her out of his den, a painful problem between his legs would have become apparent.
His hard-on had a mind of its own and would tent his robe--humiliate him more than he already was.
The idea of that woman seeing him needy was more than he could take.
Giving him a dirty look, she left on her own, slamming the door so hard it shook the windows.
Grateful she was gone, he slowly began stroking himself again, until his manhood demanded release.
He let his mind wander back to the cafe where he first smelled her, saw her up close--her pretty face, her curvy body-- standing there so innocently, tempting him like no other woman ever had.
He knew he had to have her and right then.
Straddling him, is how he saw her, in his chair, facing him, her legs wrapped around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust as he entered her mound of sweet heavenly bliss.
Rolling off the chair on to the floor, he grabbed his long body pillow, pretending it was her.
Up on his knees, he lowered himself and shoved his hard cock into her body, over and over again.
"Yes, Oh yes," he heard her whisper as she thrust back and forth with him.
Around his thick shaft, his hand became a powerful vagina --one that belonged to Angel
-- contracting and releasing its muscles as he drove into it, pulling out, driving in, pulling out, driving in, over and over again.
She met him thrust for thrust as his hand worked fast and furious until finally, a pounding climax began to rip through his entire body.
With a final thrust he erupted and his hot white liquid gold gushed all over his favorite chair he loved so much.
Spent and exhausted but happy, he sat there rubbing his cum into its leather tenderly, as if it were physical evidence of her, a part of her he could keep, forever.
Curling up on the sofa, he held the body pillow as if it were her, the sweet Angel he'd watched from afar for weeks with his telescope.
To Be Continued: Runaway Angel (Part 7)