The Amnesiac : ep42
Life, the Universe and Everything
Autumnâs body glows in the moonlight as the night gives way to the deep blue light of the morning. She is sleeping peacefully but the temptation to have her again is just too great. With her body stretched out across the bed face down, I pin down her legs with mine and grasp her hips tightly in my claws to wake her from her slumber. I pry her butt cheeks apart with my thumbs and devour the remnants of last nightâs sex from her labia. It is primal and animalistic. She claws at the mattress frantically seeking a handhold as she awakens gasping in orgasmic ecstasy.
I pin her shoulders to the bed and enter her from behind, dominating her body so that she feels the full weight of me crushing her hips against the mattress. I cum explosively and collapse on top of her, making sure to stay inside of her for as long as possible. The blue light of the morning is becoming the golden light of day so we bury ourselves deep under the covers and fall back asleep.
At 9am I lay my head in the small of her back and awaken her for a second time while I admire the curves of her athletic bottom. An empty pizza box and two empty bottles of Veuve Clicquot tell the story of last night. When the lights went out, we shared tender and intimate first time lovemaking. I carefully explored her body and she cautiously explored mine. It was still early in the evening when âround oneâ was complete and dinner was to be had. But we werenât willing to leave the room. I lit the in-room fireplace and Autumn ordered pizza. We bribed the delivery driver with a handful of $20 bills to bring us two bottles of good Champagne. He agreed to do it only because he thought we were newlyweds.
We sat on the floor in front of the fireplace eating pizza by firelight. After a few glasses of champagne Autumn politely suggested that my first-time tenderness was great, but if I really want to win the Gold Medal, I should compete in Greco-Roman wrestling or Brazilian jiu-jitsu. I thought she might regret that comment an hour later when I had her shoulders pinned against the hard brick of the hearth, but she didnât. And she didnât regret it stretched painfully over the ottoman, or on the balcony under the full moon. And she certainly didnât regret it when my teeth broke the skin on her shoulder while I had her pinned to the mattress at 5:30am.
But now the sun is high in the morning sky and itâs time for us to depart, so we pack our things and head downstairs to refill our depleted bodies with a much needed breakfast. Our table is at the window overlooking the sea and the waitress highly recommends their house speciality ⌠buttermilk waffles. We feast and when the waitress brings the credit card receipt, Autumn asks to borrow her pen. She takes the duplicate receipt, flips it over to the blank side and fills out all of her information. First and last name, street address in Leavenworth, phone number and email address, then passes it across the table to me. I fold it carefully and put it deep into my pocket where it will never get lost.
Autumn has a plan. âI have to photograph the Tillamook cheese headquarters as part of my assignment. Itâs about a hundred miles north of here. Take your time, enjoy your ride, and meet me there at about noon. Okay?â she tells me. A nod and crooked smile grin tells her yes. I love that sheâs organized and considerate. With a defined meeting time and place, I can just enjoy the ride and not stress about reconnecting. Fate is no longer part of this conversation.
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Unlike yesterday, todayâs ride has been exceedingly enjoyable. The bike feels quick, light and nimble. My mind is free from distraction and I am nearly dancing on the foot pegs. And last night ⌠wow. What a night! Motorcyclists do get laid on the road occasionally, but itâs usually a sleazy hotel barfly cheating on her husband or a girl intent on stealing your Rolex while you sleep. Autumn isnât like that. She is special and even after just two days, I have real feelings for her. Last night wasnât a cheap lay, it was a new beginning.
I arrive in Tillamook with no idea where the cheese factory is located, but my assumption is that it will be the biggest building in town, and my assumption proves correct. The Tillamook cheese co-op building is plainly obvious with giant glass windows facing the highway and a huge parking lot for visitors. Iâm a little early so I decide to get a coffee from a little coffee shack located directly across the street. As soon as I get the bike parked I see a little white Subaru SUV go flying past and make an abrupt u-turn into the coffee shop parking lot. Autumn jumps out of the car and dashes over to me with open arms. She puts her arms inside of my unzipped jacket. I didnât realize how cold I was from the ride, because she is really warm.
âHard to miss the only red Ducati on the Oregon coast!â she tells me excitedly.
We kiss as I keep her wrapped up in my jacket.
âI got here a little early, so I was going to pop in for a coffee.â
âAnd you parked next to the highway thinking I would see the bike?â
âBingo my darling! Care to join me?â
âMy God, that would make my day. How was your ride? Better than yesterday?â
âBetter than everâ I tell her as I hold her face in my hands and look deeply into her eyes.
âMy drive was great tooâ she tells me demurely. âI thought about you the whole way.â
âLast night was âŚâ
âSavage!â she says interrupting me. âYou definitely took home the gold medal!â
âI was going to say magical!â
âWell it was magical ⌠magical and savage! Mmmm-Mmmm by the fireplace.â
âThe fireplace was fun, but he bricks cutting into your shoulder blades looked painful.â
âThey wereâ she whispers in my ear.
â
The coffee shack is tiny like a frontier school house with a wooden floor and a couple of wine barrels in the middle of the room acting as makeshift hightop tables where guests can congregate and enjoy coffee. The barista is a gorgeous young native American girl with jet black hair and perfect chocolate skin. Sheâs looks like a sexy Sacagawea.
Autumn is absolutely enamored with the barista. âMy God, youâre beautiful!â Autumn tells her. âMay I take your picture? Iâm doing a travel piece for Westways magazine.â The barista is flattered and delighted. âOf course! Please, take all the photos you want. What are you drinking today?â
âCappuccinoâ Autumn tells her.
âIâll have a quad shot, whole milk latte please.â
âMy boss says anyone ordering a quad shot has to sign a liability waiver, just in case your heart stops. We canât be held responsibleâ the barista tells me.
âAre you serious?â
âNo silly! Iâm just kidding. But if youâre heart does stop, your friend will have to do the CPR.â
âAre you okay giving me a little mouth to mouth honey?â
Autumnâs face is hidden behind the Leica as sheâs making portraits of the gorgeous barista, but she still manages to fire off a zinger. âIâll put my mouth on whatever you want babe.â
Our naughty banter makes the barista blush and Autumn snaps the perfect photo of her assembling the drinks with a relaxed and mirthful countenance. We collect our coffees and gather around the wine barrels. Autumn takes a sip then pitches me on the idea that she has been thinking about during her morning drive.
âHey David, I have an idea.â
âOkay, do tell.â
âI need to finish this photo assignment in Tillamook and then tend to some business in Portland tomorrow morning. Why donât you continue north and complete your tour of the coast then tomorrow night weâll reconnect at my place in Leavenworth. You can spend the night with me, and the next morning weâll drive up to my favorite place in the whole world, Skagit Valley for the Tulip Festival.â
âSounds amazing to me. Do you want to drive to Skagit Valley in the Subaru or ride up on the Ducati?â
âWait a minute ⌠I could ride with you??â
âSure. Of course!â
âThat sounds amazing!! That literally would be a dream come true.â
Her plan is perfect. It allows me to finish my journey up the coast as intended, and then weâll reconvene on her turf, where I can get to know the real Autumn. We reach finish our coffees and set the plan in motion. Iâve got about 30 hours to travel 350 miles, and somewhere along the way Iâll need to find a small motorcycle helmet. We thank the barista for the delicious coffee and as weâre walking out the door Autumn asks her if the Tillamook factory tour is worth doing. âAbsolutely!â she tells her.
â
After an espresso flavored French kiss, our paths diverge. Autumn parks directly across the street at the cheese factory while I secure my helmet and pull on my gloves. She waves goodbye and I pull a big wheelie as I accelerate northbound up the highway. I continue along the coast to Astoria and stay at a Motel 6 that is located directly underneath the southern terminus of the iconic Astoria-Megler Bridge. The next morning my route takes me directly to the Ducati shop in Seattle where I buy a small helmet and some cheap luggage for the motorcycle.
Late in the afternoon I find myself riding into Leavenworth, mouth agape, looking on in wonder at this quaint Bavarian village nestled in the Northern Cascades. Autumn lives downtown in the touristy business district, in an apartment on the second floor, not unlike my own situation in Pacific Grove.
Similar again to my situation, I climb the stairs to her door from the alley in the rear. I zing the buzzer and am greeted with open arms. Her loft is so much like my own. Hidden in plain site above the bustling downtown businesses with large north facing windows filling the room with beautiful diffuse light. I hand her a brand new motorcycle helmet and encourage her to try it on. She is thrilled when it fits perfectly and along with a sunny weather forecast for the next few days, thereâs nothing stopping us from heading north to Skagit Valley in the morning.
She gives me the full apartment tour including kitchen and bedroom. She wasnât kidding about loving tulips. She has a tulip print duvet and when Autumn lays on it, it looks like sheâs laying in a field of tulips. I grab her iPhone and snap a photo. It is exactly the image that I sketched in chalk.
Leavenworth is first and foremost a tourist trap, but Autumn takes me to a âlocals onlyâ bar that serves real KĂślsch beer with authentic German delicacies like schnitzel and currywurst. We drink heavily and dance all night to country music under the light of a neon moon on a wooden floor covered in sawdust. The band plays a slow dance tune and we hold each other close in the middle of the dance floor. I run my hand up her neck to her sweaty hair and kiss her salty neck. It is the cue that she needs to take me home. We stumble a few blocks across town and go crashing through her front door. Fueled by heavy doses of alcohol and adrenaline we pounce each other in the bedroom. I strip naked and lay on top of the tulip duvet while Autumn stumbles around the room drunkenly lighting a few candles before peeling off her jeans and sweater to reveal that sheâs been wearing sexy lingerie all evening in anticipation of this moment. We are very intoxicated, so the sex is wild, rough and sloppy. We soak the duvet in sweat and she rides me like a barrel racing cowgirl until I cum inside of her, then she hovers over me and pushes the semen out onto my belly before collapsing on the bed next to me. I am a gooey and sweaty mess.
She passes out instantly from her drunkenness as I lay flat on my back gasping to catch my breath. I vacillate between consciousness and unconsciousness in my own post-coital inebriation, but in a moment of clarity I decide to get cleaned up before falling asleep on her nice tulip duvet. So I stumble through the waning candlelight toward the bathroom. In the darkness of an unfamiliar shower I slip on a bottle of shampoo and slam my head violently against the tile floor.
This is the moment my amnesia begins. I regain consciousness terrified and not recognizing any of my surroundings, having no idea where I am, how I got here, and who is here with me. I stumble around in the darkness to gather my clothing and then race off into the night on my Ducati drunk and concussed. The headlight of the Ducati attracts every flying insect in the Northern Cascades, and they explode in technicolor on the windscreen of my helmet. I race through the night like the pilot of a spaceship lost in the cosmos, and 18 hours later, without a clue how I arrived there or where I had been for the past month, I wake up in my own apartment in Pacific Grove.
But when I open my eyes, Iâm not in my apartment, Iâm standing in an art gallery in Leavenworth Washington, at an art show dedicated to me and a fleeting romance I had with the woman standing right in front of me. And standing next to her, tears of sorrow stream from Riverâs eyes as she realizes that there is no cosmic connection between us. I was all just a series of heartbreaking coincidences, and that the universe is a cruel and unforgiving place sometimes ⌠but it never lies.
the end.














