The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or persons. Any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
The rights of Edua Erasmus to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him under the South African Copyright Act of 1978 (as Amended)
“DAMN!” Patrick cursed as smoke bellowed from the hood of the car.
Breaking down on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere was the last thing he needed right now. He was already a day behind schedule for his perfectly planned trip to the mountains for a family retreat with his cousins.
He pulled off along the side of the deserted byway and checked his phone for service – which there was none. Why would there be service in this godforsaken desert part of the world? He got out of the car, opened the hood of the car and waved the smoke away with his hands. He stood there for a moment wondering what to do next – not that he knew anything about cars.
He remembered a sign a few miles back that read, ‘Last Gas for 100 miles’ which was followed by a run-down gas station about a mile later. It might be his only hope in this desolate place, so he locked up, took a bottle of water and started the trek back to the gas station.
After about twenty minutes of walking, the gas station appeared over the horizon like a mirage and he threw the last bit of water over his sweat-soaked head.
From afar he could see that the gas station had two rusted pumps, a tow truck parked in an open garage and what seemed to be a small shop of sorts. A woman in her early fifties sat on the steps of the shop smoking a cigarette and her hair absorbed the smoke as she exhaled.
“Am I glad to see you!” Patrick exclaimed, making the woman glance his way.
She didn’t seem one much for conversation as she blew out another puff of smoke.
“Yeah?” She asked as she flicked the cigarette bud away.
“My car broke down about two or three miles from here.” Patrick said.
The woman stood up, dusted off her raggedy jeans and then folded her arms across her chest as if she wasn’t sure where he was going with the conversation.
Patrick gestured towards the truck and asked, “You wouldn’t be able to help me?”
“No.” She said bluntly, “But I’ll ask my son.”
Without moving much, she turned her head and yelled into the open window of the shop.
“Dale!” She yelled, “Get your ass out here.”
The woman’s brusqueness made Patrick a bit uncomfortable, but he tried his best not to show it and gave her a fake and awkward smile of appreciation.
A moment later a young and slender man stepped out of the shop wearing a red baseball cap and sagging blue jeans that showed off just the rim of his underwear. Patrick couldn’t help but stare at the shirtless boy’s perfectly defined physique as he stepped out into the sun glistening like a white diamond.
“What?” Dale asked annoyed and readjusted his junk.
“This fella’s car broke down further on up the road.” The woman said.
Dale glanced at Patrick who quickly tried to hide the fact that he was fascinated by the young man’s beauty.
“Take the truck and tow him back here.” The woman said.
Dale looked Patrick up and down as if scheming something and then smiled at him before he gestured with a nudge of his head that Patrick should follow him towards the tow truck. Patrick followed him and couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting down from the angel tattoo between Dale’s shoulder blades towards the tight, little bubble-butt that pranced in front of him.
“I’m Patrick.” He finally let out, hoping to not sound like the uptight twenty-nine year old that he was.
“Dale.”
“Nice to meet you.” Patrick said with a blushing smile.
It took Dale a moment to realize that Patrick liked him, and when he figured it out another alluringly devious smile lit up his spotless and youthful face.
“So where ya headin’?” Dale asked with sudden intrigue.
“To Ellington Woods.” Patrick said, “We rented a cabin there for the weekend – having a family get-together with some cousins of mine.”
“Sounds nice.” Dale said and flashed him a smile.
The two of them got into the old tow truck and then drove off to where Patrick said his car was stranded. A local radio station playing golden oldies and country music was all that any radio picked up in this part of the world and it seemed like the faded blue rosary which hung from the rear-view mirror danced to the rhythm of Johnny Cash’s General Lee.
“So…” Patrick broke the silence, “Is it just you and your mom?”
“Yep.” Dale nodded; keeping his eyes on the deserted road ahead, “Dad had enough and walked out on us about three years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Patrick said.
“Don’t be.” Dale shrugged one shoulder, “We’re doing better without him. And besides… he didn’t approve of what I did to strangers.”
Dale glanced at Patrick and could see he was both puzzled and intrigued, so he squeezed Patrick’s thigh and then moved his hand up towards his cock before smiling and holding the steering wheel with both hands again.
Patrick’s heart was racing from the mere touch of such a magnificent piece of ass who showed interest in him. He wasn’t one for twinks, but there was just something alluring about Dale – something mysterious he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Is that it?” Dale asked and gestured towards a car by the side of the road.
“Yep.” Patrick said with his eyes transfixed upon Dale’s naked chest.
They pulled up behind Patrick’s car and Dale admired the pristine condition of Patrick’s 1975 Vista Cruiser as they both got out of the truck.
“Wow.” Dale said impressed, “You don’t see many of these on the road nowadays – let alone one in such a good condition.”
“Thanks.” Patrick said, “It belonged to my dad. It’s been quite reliable up to now.”
“Anything can last forever,” Dale said, “As long as you look after it.”
Dale walked over to the front of the Cruiser and popped the hood, causing his jeans to slide down a little bit further down to show that he was wearing a jockstrap – something that drove Patrick wild beyond reason, so he bit down on his lower lip as he tried to keep his urges in check.
“Let’s see what’s going on here.” Dale said and leaned in over the engine.
Patrick glanced at the jockstrap waistband and the top of Dale’s smooth crack which stuck out from behind his low-riding jeans while he fiddled around in the engine.
“Here’s your problem.” Dale said and glanced at Patrick with a smile, “A shot carburettor.”
Patrick pulled his protesting eyes away from Dale’s ass and nervously started to fidget with his fingers while trying to hide his horniness with a smile.
“Is that bad?” Patrick asked.
Dale straightened up and turned towards Patrick who seemed a bit uneasy – but that was just the way he liked it. He did what he did best when hormones got the better of his target so he stepped closer to Patrick until they were close enough for Patrick’s growing bulge to touch him.
“It’s bad.” Dale said in a sultry voice and then licked his lips while gazing into Patrick’s eyes.
“What should we do about it?” Patrick’s quivering lips uttered.
“Whatever you want.” Dale said with his eyes pierci
ng into Patrick’s soul.
When Patrick couldn’t control himself any longer, he grabbed Dale by the back of the neck and pulled him in closer for a kiss. As their tongues interlocked, Patrick’s hands started exploring Dale’s smooth and silky body until they finally got to that delicious butt. He slid his hands underneath Dale’s jockstrap and cupped his buttocks while Dale’s hands ruffled his hair.
A sudden prick, feeling a lot like a bee sting, on the left side of Patrick’s neck made him pull back. He grabbed his neck where he felt the sensation and dizziness got the better of him as he took a step back. Dale dropped a syringe and folded his arms across his chest while he waited for the sedative to do its work.
“What did you do to me?” Patrick gasped as he tried to stay upright.
Patrick collapsed and tried to crawl away, but his limbs all felt heavy as the dirt held him back. He tried to focus his eyes on Dale who still had that devious smile on his face and then everything went dark.