I was driving up the West Coat of New Zealand. I'd hired a little Hyudai and come from Sydney for a short driving holiday by myself. It was my last day of driving. That night, I would get to Greymouth, leave the hire car with the operator and the next day get on the trans-alpine train back across to Christchurch on the East coast where I had started the trip and from where I would fly home.
Stupidly, I hadn't filled the tank before I headed out that morning and then I had been so engrossed in the rugged and beautiful scenery that I hadn't paid much attention to my fuel level. It had rained on and off a few times during the day but that just made the scenery look even more amazing. I'd stopped many times to look at the sea, at seal colonies and at little shops selling fried fish, paintings, wood carvings and jade jewellery and sculptures.
I only realised that my fuel level was low when an orange light came on. I was relieved when I saw a sign that indicated that the next town had a petrol station and that it was only 10 k's away but when I got there, it was only a shop with a petrol bowser out the front. It was closed. It was Sunday and apparently they don't open on Sundays.
I looked at my map and saw that there was a more substantial town 22kms away. The needle was on empty but I assumed, guessed, hoped that there was still quite a lot in reserve and the little Hyundai ran on the smell of an oily rag so they say.
About 5 k's further it started to miss when going up hills. I made it probably another 5 k's before it died. Right on cue, it started to rain. I waited ten minutes and it eased up to just mist so I got out and started walking. After about ten minutes, I saw one of those Juicy hire camper-vans coming. I tried to wave it down. It was full of a large group of Asians who honked their horn and everyone waved to me as they drove past. I kept walking.
After another half-hour, even though the rain was only a fine mist blowing in from the direction of the sea, I was soaked through. I was only wearing a tee-shirt, shorts and a zip-up hoodie so I started to get cold. I saw a truck parked beside a farm house so I walked down the gravel driveway past a mob of miserable looking sheep all huddled together. I walked up the front steps onto the verandah. A dog was asleep on an old blanket. It looked up at me, tried to smell me from a distance, but then just put its head back down. It still had its eyes on me though.
The front door was open but there was a closed fly-screen door. I was about to knock when I heard an unmistakable sound coming from inside.
"Uh... uh... uh... uh... uh... uh... uh... uh..."
As well as a thudding sound. I didn't know what to do but I couldn't just stand outside. I knocked on the door frame.
"What the fuck?!" I heard from inside. Then a moment later,
"Just a sec. Coming."
A few seconds later a guy came to the door, opened the fly-screen door wide and stood there looking at me. I felt my cock move in my shorts. He was a big guy, black hair and stubble, about twenty-five, wearing a dark blue singlet and dark blue Stubbies (Australia/New Zealand TradeMark, brief men's shorts). He was as hot as hell.
My eyes involuntarily moved to the sizeable bulge and outline of a very fat semi-erect penis in the front of his stubbies. He saw where I was looking and he looked down there himself, then looked back at me. His eyes widened slightly and he gave me a smile.
"What can I do you for mate?"
"Oh.. hi... Umm... I've run out of petrol a few k's up the road. I was wondering if you could give me a lift to the nearest town."
"No worries mate. Diesel or unleaded?"
"Oh.. unleaded."
"Yeah, I've got a drum in the shed. I can sell you a few litres."
"Oh cool!"
"You wanna come in for a while? You look like a drowned rat!"
"Yeah, thanks!"
The dog had got up, slowly walked over and started smelling my crotch as we were talking.
"Stay outside Silver. You stink," he said to the dog as he let me in.
"I better take my shoes off," I said. There were boots lined up on the verandah and the guy was barefoot. My shoes were wet and covered in mud.
"Yeah, if you like," he said. He held the door open while I took my shoes and socks off and left them on the verandah to dry.
"Would you like a beer or a cuppa?" He asked me as he ran into the living room ahead of me, grabbed a remote control and turned off his TV. He was too late though. There was a door into the hallway on the other side that was open and had panels of glass in it. I'd seen a glimpse of the TV screen reflected in the glass before he'd turned it off. It was definitely porn and I was pretty sure it was gay porn, on pause.
"Oh a beer would be nice," I said as I followed him into the room.
"Take a seat," he said pointing to a nice old leather lounge. "Oh, do you want a towel?"
"Yeah, thanks."
There was actually a towel on one of the cushions of the lounge. I didn't have to be in forensics to work out that he'd been sitting there on his bare arse wanking to porn when I disturbed him by knocking on the door.
He grabbed the towel from the lounge and for a second I thought he might give me that one but he went through into the hallway and came back a second later with a clean dry towel.
"I'll get the beers," he said and went off through another door. I dried my hair, took off my hoodie and then tried to dry my tee-shirt and shorts while wearing them and holding my hoodie in my hand.
"Hey, you want me to put your clothes in the dryer?" He said as he came back with two long-necks and put them on the coffee table in front of the lounge.
"Yeah. They're pretty wet," I said.
"Come this way."
As we were walking he asked,
