Love on the Run

I recently retired from the Police Department, I had put in my twenty years and I was done. I started when I was twenty-one years old and was still in good shape, so I figured I'd get a fresh start in a new chapter of my life. I decided to sell my house, most of the crap in it, pack up my crew cab pickup and hit the road to destinations unknown.

While on the road I was listening to the radio and thinking about the life I left behind. I missed my friends the most as I had no family in my old town. I was divorced, thankfully had no kids and the taxes where I lived were astronomical. I did some research on where to relocate to, but I was in no rush to get anywhere.

Being an outdoorsman and a novice survivalist, I made sure to pack a tent and other camping supplies. I figured I would travel and crash at some campsites and other remote areas. I didn't want to spend every night in a motel so I planned alternate sleeping arrangements.

I was on the road for about a week; the trip so far was pretty uneventful. I saw some beautiful countryside and some pretty shitty areas too. I was glad that I had my service weapon with me for the seedy areas.

While on a desolate highway in bumfuck Kansas, I saw what appeared to be a woman sitting on a log on the right side of the road. I thought to myself I hadn't seen any type of civilization for miles. As I drove past her, I saw that her arms were wrapped around her knees and her face was down. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that she lifted her head and watched me drive away from her.

Then my cop instinct took over and I threw it in reverse and backed up to her. She was a young, disheveled, attractive woman with long messy brunette hair. She was wearing an open red and black checkered flannel shirt with a dirty white tee shirt underneath, cut-off blue jean shorts and brown leather work boots. I could tell she had been crying and had a fading bruise on her right cheek.

I rolled down my passenger side window and asked if she was alright. She just sat there looking at me saying nothing.

"Miss, are you okay? Do you need help?" I called out again.

She responded in a sarcastic tone, "Do I look okay?"

"Well no, you don't. That's why I asked," I curtly responded.

Then she slowly rose to her feet, stood about five foot five inches and approached the open window, "Are you another asshole who's going to try and rape me?" she asked snidely.

"No, I'm not, I'm just asking if you need help," I replied with compassion.

"I have a knife you know!" she snipped, then she brandished a tanto-bladed knife that she drew from her right hip.

"Sweetheart, you won't need that with me, I give you my word," I replied with sincerity.

She put the knife back in the sheath and barked, "Don't call me fucking sweetheart!"

Getting a little annoyed I curtly said, "Okay fine, I'll leave you be." I put the truck in gear and began to pull away.

Then she yelled, "Wait stop! Please stop!" I stopped and she came back to the window.

With tears running from her beautiful blue eyes she asked pitifully, "Can you please give me a ride?"

"Where are you going?" I questioned.

"I don't care, anywhere but here," she cried.

"Sure, hop in," I replied with a smile.

She ran back to the log she was sitting on, grabbed a backpack that was behind the log and climbed in my truck.

As I drove off she whined, "Please don't hurt me, man."

"Miss, I promise you, I'm not going to hurt you," I replied in a soft tone.

She tossed her backpack on the back seat as we departed. She pulled her boots up onto the seat and wrapped her arms around her legs.

"Please don't put your boots on the seat" I requested. She said nothing, put her feet back on the floor and crossed her arms across her chest.

I introduced myself and extended my right hand to her, "I'm Jim."

Looking forward and not uncrossing her arms, she replied softly, "Chrissy."

I pulled my hand back to the wheel and asked, "So what brings you all the way out here?"

"Nothing!... Nothing okay!" she yelled angrily.

"Okay..okay..I get it, sorry" I replied.

"Look I'm sorry I yelled.. I just don't want to talk about it, okay?" She said, beginning to cry.

"It's okay, I understand," I assured her.

"Hey, you got anything to eat or drink? I haven't eaten in two days," she asked.

"Oh, shit really? Yeah, there's a cooler on the back seat. There's some sandwiches and drinks in there, help yourself," I replied in a concerned tone.

She climbed up and knelt on the center console to access the cooler. I glanced over and couldn't help but notice her cute little ass. While she fumbled through the cooler I kept looking over at her ass and her dirty bare legs. As a man who hasn't had sex in a while, I got a bit aroused by her.

She finally sat back down with a sandwich and a Michelob Ultra beer.

"Oh God I'm so hungry and thirsty, thank you so much," she grumbled while she unwrapped the sandwich.

"No problem, enjoy," I responded.

Chrissy devoured the sandwich and guzzled the beer down, she must have been famished.

"Help yourself to more if you want" I offered.

"I'm gonna have another beer if it's okay?" she asked nicely.

"Yeah go ahead," I answered.

Once again I was able to admire her ass and legs with impure thoughts. She sat back down and cracked the beer. Chrissy seemed to be loosening up a bit and was getting more comfortable with me.

"So Jim, I can tell by your accent that you aren't from around these parts, you're from New York right?" she said with a little sarcasm.

"Good guess yes I was a New Yorker, I'm looking to relocate," I replied.

"You looking to live here in Kansas?" she asked.

"Not sure where I'm going to go yet. I'm basically on a road trip checking out different areas," I replied.

"Oh okay, that's different," she said skeptically.

I explained my story to Chrissy, about being retired and divorced. She was intrigued about my career as a cop, all the questions about my most interesting calls and if I ever shot anybody and stuff like that. She was surprised when I told her I never shot anyone. She thought all New York cops had shot someone. I explained I was a cop in a small ritzy town and not New York City where a lot of shootings take place.

I didn't want to upset her so I didn't ask about her life, I figured if she wanted to tell me she would.

It was starting to get dark and Chrissy had finished her fourth beer. I could see she was starting to nod off. "Chrissy, recline the seat and get some sleep, I'll wake you when we stop in a few hours," I said to her softly.

Chrissy untied her boots and slipped them off. Her white socks were dirty and I could tell she hadn't changed her clothes in a while. I felt so bad for her only imagining what she had gone through. Then she reclined the seat, reached over with her left hand and touched my right forearm. I looked over and she actually smiled and mouthed "Thank you" silently and fell asleep.

I knew she needed clean clothes until we could get the ones she had on washed. So I got off the highway and found a Walmart in town. Chrissy was about the same size as my ex-wife so I knew what sizes to get her. I pulled into the parking lot and quietly exited my truck. I opened the back door and unzipped her backpack to see if she had any clean clothes in it. The clothes inside were also dirty and there was a size 38DD bra in it as well. I also found her wallet which had three dollars in it. I closed the backpack and quietly closed the door. I checked to see if Chrissy was still asleep, which she was and I ran into the store.

I quickly purchased a gray sweatsuit that I figured she could use as pajamas. I also bought panties, a bra, socks, a couple of tee shirts, a toothbrush and a pair of jeans, along with more beer and food.

I hurried back to the truck to find that Chrissy was still sound asleep. I wondered when she last had a good sleep. I got back in the truck and continued our journey.

I drove for another hour or so. I was getting tired and in need of a stiff drink. I saw a sign for a motel and headed for it. When I parked in the lot, Chrissy was starting to stir. As I was getting out of the truck she woke up.

"Where are we?" she asked groggily.

"We're at a motel Chrissy," I replied.

Her eyes opened wide with terror and she curled her body into a ball.

"Chrissy, it's okay, no funny business. I'm going to get a room with two beds. I promise you, I won't hurt you," I said with sincerity.

"Okay, Jim I trust you," she replied nervously.

I went inside and got a room with two full-size beds. I got back in the truck and drove to the spot by our room. Chrissy was silent. When I turned the truck off I reached into the rear of the truck and gave her the bag of clothes I bought.

"Here, I bought you some clean clothes," I said.

Looking at me in astonishment she asked, "You bought me clothes?"

"Yes Chrissy, you need them and you need to take a nice long shower and get a good night's sleep in a comfortable bed," I said softly.

She smiled and said, "Thank you!" with her eyes welling up.

I said, "Don't mention it. C'mon, I'll let you in the room so you can shower and I will bring in our stuff."

Chrissy carried her boots and the bag while I let her into the room. I saw that there were two beds, a small dinette table, a mini refrigerator, a sofa and a TV. The place was a dive but it was a place to sleep. While she went into the room, I made a few trips to the truck to retrieve my duffel bag, her backpack, the cooler, the food, the beer and my bottle of Jesse James Bourbon.

By the time I got everything in the room, I could hear the shower running. I put the food and beer in the fridge, poured myself some bourbon and sat on the couch. My mind was racing about what a turn my adventure had taken. I found this obviously battered waif on the side of the road and now she was sharing a motel room with me. I wondered if I should have rented two separate rooms. I wondered what she looked like naked. I wondered what sex would be like with her. But I promised her and myself that I would not make any advances.

Chrissy yelled from the shower, "Hey Jim, do you by chance have a razor?"

I yelled back, "Yeah, hold on a second."

I got a razor and shaving cream out of my duffel bag and put a fresh blade on the razor.

I knocked on the bathroom door and Chrissy said, "C'mon in." I opened the door and stepped in, her arm was extended out from behind the shower curtain and I placed the razor in her wet hand.

I told her, "I have shaving cream too."

"Oh, cool thanks," she replied and her hand came back out and I handed it to her.

I went back into the room, sat on the sofa, kicked off my brown cowboy boots and sipped my bourbon. Chrissy was in the shower for a good forty-five minutes before I heard the water shut off. Then I heard the sink running and her brushing her teeth.

Chrissy finally came out of the bathroom wearing only one of the black tee shirts I bought her. It was long enough to barely cover her hips; I couldn't tell if she had panties on or not. Her hair was still wet, and her legs and feet looked so sexy.

"Ummm I bought you a sweatshirt too Chrissy," I said trying not to stare.

"Oh, am I making you uncomfortable Jim? I'm sorry but it's too warm for sweats, but I'll put it on if you want me to," she replied.

"You do whatever makes you comfortable," I said as I got up to head to the shower.

"Thank you, I'm fine like this, I'm not a shy girl Jim," she said with a chuckle.

"Yes, I see that," I replied as I grabbed my duffle, entered the bathroom and closed the door.

I put my hands on the vanity and looked into the mist-covered mirror. I thought to myself, 'What's going on here? Is she flirting with me or just being herself? Jim stop! Just roll with it and don't come on to her.'

I shook it off and undressed. My cock was hard and my balls ached. I ran the shower and stepped in. As the warm water ran over my body I couldn't stop fantasizing about Chrissy. I wondered what she looked like nude. I wondered how she smelled and tasted. I imagined her in the shower with me, kneeling in front of me. I gripped my cock and started to stroke it. I imagined Chrissy sucking my cock and looking up at me. My hands were in her wet hair and her head went back and forth. Her tongue was circling and pressing on my shaft inside her mouth. Chrissy's hands were gripping my ass pulling me deep into her throat.

I felt the rush of orgasmic energy through my body I whispered, "I'm gonna cum baby." She didn't stop; she sucked me harder and faster. Chrissy gripped my ass cheeks digging her finger in, her lips stopped at the base of my cock and she shook her head. My knees got weak and my thighs tightened when I reached climax.

"Oh Fuck!" I blurted out when the first blast of cum jetted down her throat.

Then I came back to reality when I heard a knock at the door and Chrissy asked, "Hey, are you okay in there?"

Cum was still streaming out of my cock when I replied, "Um yeah I'm okay. I just um slipped and almost fell down."

"Do you need my help?" she asked.

I so wanted to say yes but I didn't so I replied, "No I'm okay; I'll be out in a minute," I answered with a slight stammer.

When I finished dumping a load of cum on the tub floor I shaved the stubbly pubes from my pubic area and finished showering. At the vanity, I trimmed my beard and mustache and shaved the stubble off my neck and upper cheeks. I put on a pair of black sweatshorts and a white tee shirt.

When I exited the bathroom, I saw Chrissy sitting on the sofa Indian style with a pillow on her lap, watching TV with a beer on the end table.

"You scared me Jim; I thought you hurt yourself in there," she said out of concern. I felt my face flushing as I approached her.

She giggled and said, "Why are you blushing Jim?"

"Mmm well, I'm a little embarrassed," I replied nervously.

Chrissy raised her right eyebrow and grinned and her eyes zeroed in on my crotch for a second, "Mmmm okayayyy."

I thought to myself, 'Fuck, she knows what really happened.' I sat down on the other end of the sofa and topped off my drink.

"So, may I ask how old you are?" I asked.

"I'm 28, how bout you?" she replied.

"I'm 41," I answered.

"So Chrissy, how did you get that bruise on your face?" I asked softly.

She clicked off the TV, took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled out her mouth, "Some asshole tried to rape me, Jim."

"You wanna talk about it?" I asked.

"Actually I do, I haven't been able to tell anyone," she replied.

"I'm all ears Chrissy," I said while sipping my drink.

She took a sip of her beer and began her story, "Well, the other night I was at a truck stop hoping to hitch a ride. There was a trucker there who started to talk to me. He seemed very nice and I asked where he was headed. He told me he was on his way to Texas. That's actually where I wanted to go. So I asked if I could hitch a ride with him. Yeah, I know I was stupid. But anyway, he said sure, he could use the company. So I got in his rig and we drove for about fifteen minutes and he put his hand on my thigh. I pushed him away and told him to stop. He just laughed at me and did it again and pushed him away again. I heard the doors lock and he pulled over. Then he grabbed my arms and pulled me off my seat and tried to get me in the back of one of those sleeper cabs. I screamed and kicked him but he wouldn't stop. Then he punched me in the face, I thought I was going to pass out. He almost had me in the sleeper when I pulled my knife out and stabbed him in the arm. He got off of me and was screaming like a little bitch. I was able to get the door open and just ran into the woods. I was so scared, Jim."

"Holy shit Chrissy, you were lucky, I'm glad you had your knife with you," I said in shock.

She was shivering after she told her story. I moved closer to her, put my arms around her and she started to sob. Then she wrapped her arms around me, buried her face in my chest and cried. Chrissy's body was jerking because she was crying so hard. I hugged her tight and caressed her back.

"Shhhhh... it's okay Chrissy, let it out you're safe now," I whispered compassionately.

After a five-minute cry, she lifted her head and we released each other. My shirt was soaked from her tears and she wiped the tears from her face.

Chrissy looked at my shirt, giggled through her fading cries and said, "I'm sorry Jim; I made your shirt all wet."

"No worries kid, you needed a good cry you've been through a lot," I said while handing her a box of tissues.

"You don't know the half of it," she said in a deep breath.

"Oh really? Well, we have all the time in the world," I said empathetically.

With another deep breath, she began her tale, "Well okay here it goes, Jim, I'm on the run, I'm a fugitive, um my name isn't Chrissy either, my real name is Dana."

"Wait what? Are you serious what the hell are you wanted for?" I asked in astonishment.

She looked into my eyes and began to tear up again and whispered, "Murder."

My blood ran cold and I felt a bit of anger and blurted, "Oh fuck, so I'm harboring a fugitive?"

"I'm sorry Jim, I will leave right now if you want me to," she said sadly.

"Who did you kill Chrissy, oh I mean Dana, whatever your fucking name is," I said angrily.

"Jim, please don't be mad at me, I killed my boyfriend, he abused me," she cried, placing her face in her cupped palms.

My anger turned to sympathy as I said softly, "Oh shit, okay Dana talk to me, and I don't want you to leave."

"Jim, he would beat me just about every day. He took me away from my family and friends. I had nobody," she sobbed. I pulled her to me and hugged her again.

"Jim, he and his friends would gang rape me, they'd drug me and burn me with cigarettes and cigars. He had connections with the cops and politicians, he was a judge so the cops did nothing. I had no choice."

"Wait a minute; it was you who killed that judge in Connecticut about six months ago? I heard about that. My department got a notification on you. Holy shit!" I said in amazement. She nodded her head and sucked up her tears.

"Yeah that was me," she said in a stern angry tone.

She continued in an emotionless tone, "One night I made the choice, he was asleep naked in our bed, I was naked too, but I was wide awake. I started to jerk his tiny little dick to make it hard. That fat fuck woke up and thought he was getting laid.

I climbed up on top of him and his little prick went inside me. I clawed at his chest getting him all excited. He pinched my nipples hard like he always did. I fucking hated that; it hurt so badly.

I hid my knife under my pillow. I fucked him hard and I knew he was about to cum and I said you like that Daddy? I fucking hated that too but he made me say it during sex. He said yes, you're being a good little girl. I leaned down to get the knife and he bit my nipple and I screamed Yes Daddy! I got up again with the knife behind my back and he said Daddy's gonna fill your little pussy. That was it, I yelled the fuck you are. I took the knife in both hands and held it over my head and he screamed, "Dana what the fuck?!" And I stabbed him in the chest just before he came.I still can hear him scream and his gurgling last breath when his lungs filled with blood. I stabbed him over and over, bloodshot everywhere. I didn't even know how many times I stabbed him. The News said it was 24 times. So yeah, I fucking killed that son of a bitch."

"Oh my God Dana I am so sorry," I said in astonishment.

"By the way, don't call me Dana, she's dead, I'm Chrissy." she said with a straight face.

"So what's your plan now Chrissy?" I asked solemnly.

"Brazil, that's why I wanted to go to Texas, cross the Mexican border and head down to Brazil." She replied with a blank stare.