sexstories.com

Introduction:

On the forum, there is the "Calling All Writers" (CAW) challenge. CAW 23 was to write something with a kernel of truth.

"[America]: Nowhere on Earth was sex so vigorously suppressed—and nowhere was there such deep interest in it.”


-Robert A. Heinlein. “Stranger in a Strange Land.”


The novel "Stranger in a Strange Land" had a big influence on me when I read it as a teenager. (This is not a book you should give to an impressionable teenager.) Particularly the (slightly misquoted) idea that "[Love means] the happiness of the other person is essential to your own." This shaped my dealings with women for decades.

It was less than a decade after reading the book that I got to America, there were times I felt like "Mike", the stranger in the strange land. Familiar, but sometimes subtly alien. It all started with an innocent enough question. "How would you like to spend January in Southern California?" It sounded almost perfect, I could get away from the dreary weather in Utrecht at that time of year (that's in the the Netherlands). The only problems I could think of about that were: I'd be working; and I'd be away for my birthday. I'd be working if I stayed at home, so that wasn't really much of a problem. The birthday, being away from friends was a bit of a drag, but I thought I could live with it.

The gig was a big installation in one of the high tech companies which had grown up around the University in Santa Barbara, UCSB as the natives referred to it. It was a job that should take about three to four weeks. I went out with Geert, the project lead. For those not familiar with Dutch names, that's pronounced like you're clearing your throat followed by 'hurt' (something like that anyway). He'd answer to "Gert" or "Hurt", he was used to people mangling his name. Geert also brought along his wife Rebecca, it wasn't uncommon to bring a companion with you on long gigs. I was between girlfriends at the time, so I didn't have anyone to bring with me.

Rebecca and Geert were keeping themselves to themselves and making plans for the weekend, they were going to take the car and drive up the coast. That left me wondering what I could do without a car, when I saw the ad in the local paper for Enterprise Rent A Car, "$9.99 a weekend day". That sounded like a bargain, so I rang them and found I could pick up a car Friday lunchtime and drop it off Monday lunchtime. They'd even pick me up from the office, sounded great, so I booked that.

Friday lunchtime, I got picked up. The Enterprise office sent out one of their office workers in one of their cars, so that's how it worked. First I was impressed by the car, a white Thunderbird. That's not a car you get over in Europe, but was very pretty, though it wasn't the car I was going to get, I asked the girl that. Next was the girl, wow! she was a stunner. Now I'd got to Santa Barbara, I found the Santa Barbarians, as they called themselves, were quite proud of their university. Some of the less PC comments were about the quality of 'babe' you got attending the university. There were certainly a lot of good looking 'babes' around the place. Now I was sitting next to one, I wondered if this was her job paying her way through college. The US was very primitive in many ways, paying for college was one of those quaint colonial customs.

In the Enterprise office, there were several other babes, all very friendly as American service workers are wont to be. The girl handling my reservation was cute and bubbly, but she had a bit of difficulty with my British drivers licence, one of the pink folded paper ones, with no picture. When I pointed to my birthday, she said, "But there aren't thirteen months in a year."

What? That was a weird comment, I looked: 13/1/1968, my birthday in January. That's one of those things you get used to traveling in the states, writing the date. "The British write dates with the day first, January thirteenth, it's my birthday Sunday."

The babe sitting next to her interrupted her typing to say, "That's my birthday as well."

"What a coincidence, it's mine as well. Congratulations for Sunday." No one seemed to notice the joke, but they carried on working on their computers. Eventually I had the keys for a 'Beretta' whatever that was, I assumed it wasn't James Bond's favorite gun. As I mentioned the US has a lot of cars Europe doesn't. The Beretta turned out to be some stodgy enormous boat, typical of American cars. It wasn't quite what I was expecting, the ad had said the $9.99 was for a Geo Metro. I was pretty sure that was the same thing as a Suzuki Swift which I'd been considering buying back home, that would have been more my style than the usual enormous thing Americans go for.

Only this car didn't go. I turned the key and it clicked, nothing else. Dead battery would be my guess. I got out and went back to the office to sort this out. That's when I noticed a white MX-5 with its top down parked just next to the office. That seemed like the perfect car for Southern California. So when they'd apologised for the dead car and offered me a "Camaro" instead, (whatever that was), I asked about the MX-5. Blank looks. "The little white convertible."

"Oh, you mean the 'Miata'?" Seems like Mazda called cars different things in different parts of the world. "That's fifty one bucks a day."

I was considering if an extra $41 times three days was worth it, when the other girl, the one who shared my birthday said, "I'm sure we could do the special on that one as well." And they did, I got the Miata for $9.99 a day, nice birthday present I though. I thanked both girls effusively and wished the one a happy birthday again, and drove off. This car started without hassle.

All that had taken longer than I'd expected, it was now past two in the afternoon, and I hadn't had lunch. I'd noticed a sign for "Denny's" just across the road so I headed to that. Before anyone in the audience laughs at that, Denny's is a novelty for me, we don't have places like that in Europe. This is eating what the average American will eat, it's a cultural experience.

—

I'd parked and was just getting out of the Miata, when a girl walked up to me and exclaimed, "Hey George, Nice wheels."

She looked like she'd stepped out of an eighties music video, comically large shades and big hair, blond of course. It was quite fetching, laying in ringlets over her shoulders. Then I got distracted by the plunging neckline of her eighties costume, a blouse in red and black, and a red skirt to her knees. "Thank you," I said reflexively, "But I'm not George."

"Quit with the stupid accent, and take me to lunch already." I thought I was getting used to Americans and their forward manners, but she was quite out there even for the strange land of America.

"I can assure you I'm not George, I'm a visitor from Britain." That might have been that, but I thought I'd try this the American way. "I would however be delighted to take you to lunch. I can offer you the exotic delights of Denny's finest fare." Then I offered her my elbow. I'm not sure I got the American attitude right, but that's about as forward as you'll find for an Englishman. Technically I was wrong there, I was a visitor from The Netherlands/Holland/whatever you called it, but I'd only lived there for a little over a year and still thought of myself as a visitor even at home.

She accepted my elbow and I escorted her into Denny's. Another hot Santa Barbarian babe showed us to our table, and we looked over the menu while waiting for our waitress. The menu was crawling with Flintstones characters for some reason. I noticed she had a big rock on one of her fingers, engagement ring I presumed. Well that put her off the menu. I always had this fantasy whenever I went abroad that I’d meet a woman and we’d have hot monkey sex before parting, never to be seen again. Needless to say in multiple trips, it had never happened. I wasn’t one to disrupt a happy marriage, or engagement, so it wasn’t going to happen now.

"So George, what are you thinking?" Again, direct and to the point, quite American.

"Well, my name's Stephen really, but don't let me stop you calling me George if that's what you want."

She didn't react to that, "No, about the menu, what are you thinking to eat?"

The menu had many exotic wonders I wanted to try, but, "Moons Over My Hammy looks tasty, I was thinking of that." That seemed to satisfy that question.

The waitress appeared, another babe and took our order in a very efficient and friendly manner. I again made a valiant effort to get served tea. I tried "hot with milk" this time. Tea was something Americans were surprising unfamiliar with, trying to get a decent cup had almost become my life's mission. My companion ordered pancakes. I didn't even know her name, that seemed like a reasonable opener for conversation. "So, do you make a habit of picking up British tourists in Denny's car park? Not that I'm complaining about it or anything, though I don't even know your name."

She looked at me, slightly quizzically, "You're really not George?"

"No."

"Oh." Maybe I should have been more inquisitive about who she thought I was, but I didn't get to ask. "I'm running away."

This was getting even weirder. "From what?"

"Never mind." Secretive.

"To where?"

"I don't know, where are you going?"

"Disneyland." I hadn't really formed a plan for the weekend yet, but I knew Disneyland wasn't too far away. I'd always wanted to get there. Maybe, if I tried the American thing again. "Do you want to come along?"

"Sure."

So that's how I ended up going to Disneyland with a girl I'd never met before. The rest of our conversation was just as unilluminating about her situation. I did discover her name was 'Dawn'. I had to call her something after all.

—

I looked at the California Road Atlas I'd bought for this very purpose and decided taking the 101 towards LA, and then turning South on the I-5 would get me to Anaheim. Once in Anaheim I'd work out the final details. I was expecting it to be quite difficult to miss Disneyland in Anaheim.

So we cruised off down the 101; top down, sun beating down on us, wind in our hair. It was actually slightly chilly, but the sun helped. It was messing up my locks a bit, but it was really playing havoc with Dawn's eighties do. Neither of us minded.

A couple of hours later the traffic was getting bad, when I saw the Hollywood sign off to the left of the motorway. I turned off at the next junction, Dawn asked, "Where are you going?"

"I saw the Hollywood sign, we should find a place to get a picture."

"George," she sounded exasperated, "only tourists do that."

"I am a tourist."

"Whatever."

I cruised around the hills for a while trying to find a place you could get a good view of the sign. It took a while, but eventually I found one. I took a few pictures, the sign was looking good in the dying rays of the setting sun. "Could I get your picture with the sign?"

"Sure." She still didn't seem impressed with the excursion, but I was thinking it was better than the traffic on the motorway below us. I also took a couple of both of us, using the camera's self timer.

Then I suggested, "We're in Hollywood, we should go see a film. It's going to be better than sitting in traffic."

She looked at me in her peculiar way, somewhere between amusement and wishing I'd grow up. "Whatever."

We saw "Green Card", the alternative was "Kindergarten Cop." That didn't appeal at all. After the film it was getting a bit late, we were hungry, so we went for some dinner. She was more helpful about that than she'd previously been, she suggested a nice Chinese place just around the corner from the cinema. I got the impression she was quite familiar with the area, but she'd still not mentioned anything about her background. The restaurant was again an interesting cultural experience, US Chinese food is quite different from the Chin/Ind (Indonesian) you get in Holland.

After dinner we got back on the road, the traffic was much better, and got to Anaheim in about forty minutes. It was getting late, around nine by this time, so we looked for a place to stay. I saw a motel; it was as good as any, so I pulled in there. It was a little seedy and rundown, but quite cheap. I payed cash for three nights. I was planning on staying though to Monday morning, the guy seemed to only want cash not cards.

I was a little surprised when the bed turned out to be a waterbed and the TV played porn. The waterbed wasn't quite Heinlein's "hydraulic bed", but I'd never been on one before. You lie on it and you just float, it's very relaxing, any other movement causes little waves to lap at you.

I was planning on getting up early in the morning to hit Disneyland, so we got to bed soon after. We chastely took one side of the bed each, I kept my shorts on, I didn't look to see how Dawn was dressed. I think I managed to program a 7am alarm into the clock radio.

—

7am, I'd got the alarm right. Dawn showered first, I browsed the porn channels. When we were ready to go out, her hair was not as big as the previous day. It was now hanging halfway down her back in ringlets. Mine was the usual, just got out of the shower look, much like yesterday.

We drove to Disneyland, it's not difficult to find. The car park was enormous. The monorail snaked over the top, from the hotel to the front gate. It looked like the front gate was miles away, so I was glad to see little trains running around to ferry all the people from their cars to it. The parking areas were named for the familiar characters, Micky Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Pluto. I think we parked in Pluto.

At the front gate I paid the $24 to get in, Dawn did likewise, and suddenly we were on Main Street. This was all new to me, I had no idea what to expect at Disneyland. To me Disneyland was a far off mystical place. They had just built another one about a three hour train ride from home, the other side of Paris. I hadn't got to that one yet either. Dawn was much more at home, I guessed she'd been here a lot. She showed me some of the good places, she was disappointed the Matterhorn was closed. I had no idea even what the Disney version of the Matterhorn was.

It seemed that the park was quite empty by Disneyland standards. The meant only 30-40 minute queues for Space Mountain and Star Tours. I liked those, we went back a couple of times to ride those again. I could just about stick a 30 minute queue, Disney does make even the queueing entertaining, there's so much detail in the place. I liked the teacups ride ("Mad Tea Party"). Dawn was amused at my fascination and perseverance about tea in general. Dawn tried to persuade me not to go on "It's a Small World", but there was no queue at all. After getting off, I wished I'd listened to her.

In between all the merriment, we talked some. We talked a lot about me, not a lot about her. One of the themes was me discovering the unique and different things about America in general, and Disneyland in particular.

It was dark by the time we left the "Happiest Place on Earth", we were tired, but happy, it was indeed a happy place. We got back to the motel and just plopped into bed, each on our own side again.

—

The dream was weird, as dreams tend to be. I was being trapped in some ooze and couldn't move. It was covering my face then I woke up and something was covering my face, something warm and soft. I tried to feel what that was, then it came off me, Dawn was kneeling there, naked, with her boobs hanging free. She'd been pressing her boobs into my face. "Happy Birthday George!" Then she added, "You're not gay are you?"

"No, I'm not gay, why do you ask? Are the boobs some American tradition, I was previously unaware of?" For all I knew, squashing your boobs in a guy's face could have been a perfectly normal American tradition, I wouldn't have known.

"Not traditional, this is my greeting. Happy birthday, I did wonder about the gay, you not having a girlfriend and you never hit on me." That ring on her finger had kept her safe from my advances.

"I can assure you I bat for the regular team, my embarrassment over female friends is a purely temporary matter I intend to remedy at the first possible instant." My intentions may have been there, but actually finding a girlfriend was never something I excelled at. Putting aside the ring, I thought let's try the American thing again. "Would you like to remedy that instantly?"

"What?"

"Would you like to be my girlfriend today?"

"Today, yes; tomorrow, I'm not sure."

I didn't know what that meant. "How do you mean?"

"I am your girlfriend today, happy birthday. When you take me back to Santa Barbara, I'm not sure then."

"I'm sure I'll enjoy today."

"So, boyfriend, what do you like to do?"

"The usual sort of things."

"Like, what? How about blowjobs?" Forward.

"Definitely."

"Missionary?"

"Nice."

"Doggy style?"

"Yes"

"Eating pussy?"

"Love it."

"Woman on top?"

"Never tried, sounds good."

"Face sitting."

"Er, I can guess, probably."

"Handjobs."

"I wouldn't object."

"Jilling."

"What?"

"Giving a girl a hand job."

"I'd call it frigging, it's fun."

"Swedish?"

"What's that?"

"Titty fucking."

"I've never tried." I've never had a girl with big enough tits for that, while Dawn's tits were nicely shaped, I wasn't sure they'd be quite big enough to manage it either. I'm sure we could have fun finding out.

"Golden showers?"

"What's that?"

"Peeing on you."

"Ugh, no. Sounds nasty." That sounded very unpleasant.

"Anal."

"Unpleasant."

"Bondage?"

"A little."

"Pain?"

"Don't think so."

"Snowballs?"

"What's that?"

"I french kiss you with your cum still in my mouth."

"Oh, don't know."

"Creampie eating?" She didn't wait for my question, "Eating your cum from my pussy."

"Never tried. Sounds interesting."

That sounded like a reasonably comprehensive round up of sexual practices. Though if you try had enough you could come up with a couple of dozen more. Though like I said, Americans were direct and to the point, this would obviate the need for all that fumbling around at the start of a relationship. Very efficient if we only have the one day.

Dawn said, "OK, that gives me something to work with. As it's your birthday, we could have you just lie there and me do all the work. You're a man, you'll like that." I did like to think I was a considerate lover, trying to make the other happy, but this idea did have a certain attraction, and she gave me the excuse so I could enjoy it and be selfish for once. "Unless you have another idea, I'll start with sixty-nine. We can see if you like the face sitting, while you get a blowjob. You're a man, of course you like blowjobs." She had a point there.

"First, we should get rid of these." She was tugging at my boxers, I was still trying to be modest and chaste last night so wore them to bed. After running around Disneyland all day, I'm sure they were a bit ripe. I'm sure I was a bit ripe in general, but Dawn wasn't complaining. After struggling to get them past my dick doing its flagpole impression, they were gone. She then turned around and got on top of me.

It took us a little bit to find a good position, where we could both use our mouths. She was a little shorter than me, so our bits didn't quite align. A couple of pillows propping up my head got us into the right position. Before me was a very lovely sight. Dawn's bum was nicely shaped, not small, not huge, just about right with enough meat on it to be nice and round. Below her legs parted to reveal her intimate treasure. It was crowned with some sparse light hair, and was smiling at me sideways. The outer lips parted and the inner lips moistly awaiting my attention.

I licked her some. I liked that, I do like licking pussy, it's one of my favorite things to do. She hadn't showered either, the sharp scent was intoxicating. I was horny, Dawn was doing a marvelous job ensuring that. When I'm horny, the smell of a stale pussy becomes an incredible turn on. She was working away on my dick, but for once I hardly noticed. I was concentrating on my favorite thing which was right in front of my nose. Until I came that was. I was concentrating so hard on what was in front of my nose, I was't taking much heed of down there. Coming took my attention though. I forgot about Dawn and just flopped back on the bed, oh wow!

Dawn rearranged herself so she was hugging me, that was nice. When I opened my eyes again, she kissed me. This wasn't a chaste kiss, it was an all-out french jobby. I liked that so I responded in kind, tongues intwined. She tasted rather strange, then I realised she was working down the list and had just got to 'snowball'. I like the kissing but the added sauce really didn't do much for me. The taste is a bit weird, I can't think of anything to compare it to. Not terrifically unpleasant, so I just let it be.

The kissing subsided and we went back to hugging. "I'm guessing you enjoyed that, seeing how quickly and how much you came."

"Sorry, I was concentrating on my end of things, I didn't notice what was going on down there. … I haven't wanked since Thursday, it didn't seem polite while you were in the room." We'd basically spent all our time together since Friday afternoon, so I hadn't had any chance to assuage my dick and I'd have been really horny if I'd thought about it. My sense of chivalry or my compulsion to help kicked in, "I should finish you off. I'd finish you off now if I could move." For now lying there was all I was good for.

"I'm guessing 'wank' means 'jack off'." I nodded in agreement. "No need for you to stir yourself, remember this is your birthday, I'm indulging you." I did manage to throw off the chivalrous impulse and just relax, it was very self indulgent.

We relaxed, we were silent for a while.

She broke the silence, "Hey, boyfriend, I've got an idea."

"I'm sure I'm going to like this." So far her ideas had been spot on.

"Lets see what you think of face sitting. The sixty-nine earlier really wasn't face sitting." Given the position we ended up in I tended to agree with her there. This did sound interesting.

"OK."

She knelt up by my head, steadying herself on the headboard. It was a good view of all her treasures from my angle. "Just tap me if you don't like this." She pulled the pillows out from under my head and plopped her pussy down on my face, the world went dark.

It was interesting being down there, warm and damp, very pleasant. 'There's a pussy sitting on my face' That though reverberated in my otherwise empty head, it was quite a turn on. I made a few tentative licks. I could lick pussy at the same time, even better. The angle wasn't quite right, so I'm not sure I did a particularly good job. Breathing was a bit difficult. The bits of damp flesh sitting on my face made for quite an effective seal, so breathing in was a labour.

I tried breathing around the obstructions, that helped a bit, but I still couldn't get a good breath. Eventually I tapped her behind. She lifted off me, I gasped. "Sorry, I need to breathe." Gasp. "I was enjoying that." Then she popped back down on me again. This time she squirmed around some, so I could get occasional breaths in. I was licking and enjoying this, when she lifted off me.

She looked down at me, "I see you were enjoying that." She nodded down to my dick. I hadn't been paying attention, but he was back to his flagpole impression.

"I was, I wouldn't mind more of that."

"We'll get to that, but I'm going to sit on that." She nodded to my dick again. "And see what you think of 'woman on top'. When you come in me, I'll climb on your face again and you can eat your creampie."

I licked my lips, I must say I liked all of those ideas. "Mmm, sounds good."

She put the pillows back under my head, and said "You just lie there." I could do that, I do lazy very well. She moved down, grabbed my dick and fed it to her hungry pussy. Not only did woman on top sound good, it really was good. I could just lie there and let Dawn do all the work, really self indulgent. I had a great view of all the action, she was very good at her job, I appreciated it greatly. She took my wrists and brought my hands up to feel her boobs. Ok, I had to do some of the work, I wasn't complaining. I was kind of distracted to truly appreciate her boobs, she was doing a truly outstanding job with her pussy. I'd come not so long before, so I took a while about this one, but eventually I came. Spurt after spurt got pumped into her pussy.

I did my usual après-sex flop. Before I'd recovered, I felt the pillows being pulled away from my head and a very wet pussy landed on my face. This felt even better than before, all wet and slimy and open. I did a rather half hearted job of licking, so Dawn took a more proactive approach. Her pussy ground into me and she moved it up and down my face. I just lay there and stuck out my tongue to help in her efforts. Again the taste was not quite describable, it wasn't unpleasant mixed in with all the pussy juice, a taste I really quite like. It felt amazing though having the soft wet lips drawn across my face like that. It didn't take her long before she came, and she fell off to the side twitching.

I still wasn't entirely recovered from my last come, but I made the effort to move over and hold her. "Mmm, nice." We lay still for a while as I held her.

She broke the silence, "Can you come again?" I really like the direct approach you get from Americans, it makes life so much easier.

"It'll be a while, maybe this evening. How about you?" If we're being direct, I'll try that as well.

"I could come a few more times."

"I could help you with that. I don't think it was on your list, but I'm kind of compulsive about wanting to make the girl happy. … I have this fantasy where I'm a slave to a woman and she just uses me for her pleasure. I have to make her come, over and over."

"Hmm, domination?"

"Maybe."

"I think we can manage that. From now until six, I am the bitch queen, and you are to do as I say, you are not to come! How's that?"

"Perfect."

From then on things become less clear in my mind. It was rather dream like. I remember snatches of talking, orders really, and visions of golden moments in my head. Dawn played queen bitch with sybaritic gusto, "Lick me." I lie down and worship at her pussy. "Fuck me." Missionary. We roll over, woman on top. She climbs on my face. "Lick me." "Fuck me." Doggy style. I'm in danger of coming, she rolls over, we hug, "Finger me." Jilling. We carry on in this vein, some positions I don't even know the name of. Never enough fucking to make me come, enough tongue, dick, or fingers to make her come, and come. I didn't count how many time she came, it was probably quite an impressive number. At some point we even tried Swedish, that wasn't too successful, but fun to try.

I made it to six, but it was much too soon. I was somewhere else that afternoon, in a very happy place, an even happier place on Earth. I didn't notice the time slipping by. The moment the clock showed six, she barked "Kneel!" She'd been getting more strident in her orders, so this didn't seem out of place. However, kneeling on a waterbed was not easy, I almost fell over. She shooed me away up to the headboard, so I could lean against that. "Now, boyfriend, the bitch queen wants you to come, the quicker you come, the more pleased the bitch queen will be." This was going to be easy, I'd been having difficulty not coming for a while, even when just eating her.

She started blowing me, and giving me a handjob at the same time. That was really quite efficient, I came in no time. I was was primed and ready and just exploded. It was totally shattering. It felt like I was coming in gallons, when I'd finished I slid down the headboard and came to rest in a heap on the bed, rocking gently on the waves.

I heard giggling, I looked in her direction, "What's so funny."

She was down on her haunches, thick streams of come coating her face and boobs, slowly going clear and dripping down. "I've never known so much come, and it's all for me." She giggled again. I just smiled weakly at her from my heap. "Would you like to lick it up, boyfriend?"

Before I came, I'm sure that idea would have had great merit. "At the moment, I think I just want to lie here and recover." I straightened myself out a bit so I could lie more comfortably. "Though if the bitch queen wanted me to, I'm sure I could manage something."

"The bitch queen is quite satisfied, and needs a shower." With that she got unsteadily off the bed and went to the shower, leaving me lying there. I was happy, though maybe slightly disappointed the bitch queen didn't make me lick it up. But really I was past caring about most things and just floated happy.

She insisted I shower after that, probably a good thing, then we just cuddled, naked, for the rest of the evening and idly watched some of the porn. Neither of us was in the mood for anything more adventurous by then.

—

We got up bright an early the next morning and set out back to Santa Barbara. The precious jewel of sunrise was just showing itself as we set out. The traffic was bad, we got the rush hour most of the way through LA. We didn't particularly care, we had the sun beating down on us, and the wind in our hair (when we could get moving). We made it to Santa Barbara mid morning and I dropped off Dawn at the same Denny's. I gave her one of my cards, one I'd printed all my personal contact info on the back. "If you ever want to make the boyfriend thing permanent, call me, or even temporary, I'm not proud."

Disregarding the eighty percent of wisdom which is not to butt into other people's business, I asked, "Even if you don't want a boyfriend, if I can help with what you're running away from, give me a call." There's my compulsion again. "If you need anyone warned off, or beaten up, or whatever." That was bravado on my part, but if she'd asked I'd work something out. I was quite smitten.

She laughed. "You're so sweet George." Then got out of the car.

Unfortunately I never saw Dawn, or the bitch queen, again, except in my imagination. The bitch queen particularly was in my imagination a lot. I never knew who George was, or why Dawn was running away, or even why she ran back. I wished I could have helped her there, but she never gave me any hint.

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