Note to Readers: I had planned to do a special edition as a “thank you” to those women who regular visit here, but I’m having trouble uploading the graphics. As Part III was ready to go, I’m publishing it today instead. If I’m able, I will publish “Spirit of Lesbos” this evening.
Part III of Borrowed Car, Borrowed Life
Click here to see Parts One and Two.

As they alit, one, a youngish black man, took a tire out from the truck bed. The driver, a white guy, walked over and asked if I needed help.
Since I still had hopes of going out that evening, I had an inspiration of sorts, and I asked him if he might be able to help me with my tire. I even offered to buy him some beer. As we all know, beer is the famous drug that causes straight men to go gay. I figured if it could do that I might be able to get a tire fixed with it.
To make a long story short, we weren’t able to get the tire to hold air. I knew that new tires would have to be ordered from Tucson and I was getting a little desperate to salvage my working holiday, so I was overjoyed when Michael, the driver of the truck, suggested that we go to his house, as he thought he had a tire that would fit the rim.
So we filled the tire as full of air as we could get it, and drove immediately to his home a few blocks away.
His yard was full of stray auto parts. We searched and searched until we finally found a tire that we thought might fit.
They pounded and pounded, talking all the while, mostly about how much Michael hated women, but also how Michael had encouraged his three year old son to call the Sheriff’s Deputy a pussy, and how his dog killed other dogs in the neighborhood. I was starting to feel a little trapped, but I couldn’t leave without a tire on my car. I noticed law enforcement vehicles passing by his house several times.
After a while, the friend went home, and Michaels wife came out. It one took one look to get the whole picture. She married him so she could have a child. He married her so he could have some sex. When the child arrived, the sex stopped. They hated each other. She was preparing to leave him, and he was waiting her out.
Ten o’clock rolled around, and the beer was long gone. Michael was still messing with the tire. Finally I suggested that we wait until morning, and take the tire and rim to a shop in town to see what we could do. This relieved Michael enormously.
I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to leave Jim and Holly’s car parked in front of his house, but I wasn’t sure what I could do. The nearest tow truck was an hour away. Finally I gave in to Michael’s assurances that the car was safe with him.
When Michael offered to take me home in his Camaro and pick me up in the morning, his wife rolled her eyes. As we peeled out of the drive way, Michael asked me to let him know if I saw any Deputies cruising around, as his license was revoked.
In the car, conversation turned to his dislike of women again. In the course of his rant, he mentioned that women were so crazy “I’d rather be with a man any day, if it wasn’t for my son”.
There were a lot of things wrong with the situation, but he looked like he might clean up nice. When Michael dropped me off, he promised to come back first thing in the morning to go with me to the shop.
I couldn’t sleep that night worrying about Jim and holly’s car. I knew that it was insured, but I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to it on my account. I had visions of it being dismantled in a Mexican chop shop.
Dawn came early.

Tomorrow: Part IV
The Full Monty

This man exudes confidence. I think I know why.

Morning devotions…

A playful lad. I’m glad he has something to sit on, as straw is not comfortable.

Bold and inviting, and more than a little hot.

Be loved




  1. Ur-spo Says:

    the one doing the yoga stretch should’nt extend his back like that….

  2. Em Says:

    Yay. I’m waiting for those pictures!

    I can’t wait for part 4. Sounds like an intrepid weekend.

  3. Maddog Says:

    As I am getting ready for bed, I hope that your posts leads to dreams of beautiful men.

  4. Michael Guy Says:

    Oooh…this tale just keeps getting better and better. And I cast my vote for #1; I like eyes. His eyes speak to me. His eyes want me to touch myself in my special place. But I don’t think Sak’s Fifth Avenue will be very pleased…

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