THE NUDE SAMARITAN
...
Growing up in the country, I spent a lot of time outdoors nude.
My family's home was surrounded by woods, with one lonely road running through. There was as swimming hole not far down the road. I'd often spend long summer days down there by myself, splashing in the water, lying in the mud. Sometimes I'd go on long nude hikes through the woods, or if I was feeling a bit more daring, along the side of the road. Occasionally, cars would pass, and I'm sure they saw me, but no one said anything about it. The farthest I ever went was up the road just far enough to the see the gas station and café, but not any closer than that.
When I got older, I kept up with it. As a teenager, and then young adult, I was proud of my body. Long and lean, hair in the right places. Working for my father's moving company kept me in shape. Perhaps a smaller-than-average package, but it didn't bother me. I never got that sense of embarrassment that others did entering adolescence. I was nude, not naked. Not ashamed.
Until one day, when I had just turned 22.
It was one of those damp spring days that seemed sort of warm and cool at the same time. The sun was cutting through the last of a fog that had persisted all morning. I had taken my first skinny dip of the year and was wandering back home through the trees not far from the road. I was sweating from the exercise after a long winter of channel surfing on the couch. I felt invigorated, new. The thick calluses on my feet had softened over the winter, and they were sore. It was a good sort of soreness. There was mud drying on my lower legs, starting to feel tight. I could smell myself. Perhaps a hot shower before lunch.
I was getting close to home, and the last of the fog had burned off when I first saw him. A handsome man in a grey suit, leaning over a map spread out on the hood of a Saab. He was obviously lost. Being lost was the only reason to be on that road. It was the boonies. The car had Connecticut plates. This man was far from home.
I saw him, but at first I was sure he did not see me. I fancied myself a naturist, not an exhibitionist. I didn't really have any desire to be seen by a complete stranger that day, even though the idea excited me deeply. I decided to slip further into the woods and take a more roundabout way home when I heard him.
"Hey, kid!"
Kid? I was 22! "Uh, yes, can I help you?" I squeaked.
"C'mere"
I was scared and thrilled at the same time. The thought of an attractive older man seeing me nude up close was titillating to my virgin mind, but I didn't know how he would react. He needed my help, though. That was some reassurance.
"What's up?" I panted.
Up close, he was indeed very attractive. Late forties, muscular build. That grey suit looked pretty expensive, and he filled it perfectly. Eyes the color of ice. Salt and pepper stubble on a strong square jaw. The Saab was sparkling clean. I had never seen a car so clean around what passed for our town.
"Is this White Mill Run?" He glanced up at me, then back to his map. The Man seemed utterly unfazed about the weirdly nude redneck standing before him. His lack of acknowledgement made me more aware that I was nude. No, not nude any more. Naked. I felt naked.
"No sir, It's White Mill Road. Keep going in this direction and White Mill Run is about half a mile down." I never called anybody "sir," but it slipped out. It seemed appropriate for this sharply-dressed businessman from Connecticut.
"Great," The Man said once again looking me over this time more slowly. Staring me over. "There a gas station near here?"
"Right at the intersection, you can just barely see the sign from here." I tried to sound cheerful, normal.
He peered down the road where you could begin to make out the cheery yellow of the Shell sign.
"Thanks, kid."
"You're welcome, sir!"
He began to fold his map, and I turned back toward the woods. Now that the encounter was over I felt absolutely exhilarated. I could hear the blood rushing through my body, through my head. My face was flush. I was trembling. Definitely a hot a shower before lunch.
I felt like I was walking on air for about 30 seconds. Then I heard the engine of The Man's car sputtering. Almost coming alive, but not quite. And again, and again, and nothing.
The Man's voice cracked through the air, "For fuck's sake! Goddamnit!" His voice then returned to its formerly calm demeanor. "Kid, get back here."
I ran back. The jitters returned. My heart dropped. I stood before The Man once more and his eyes took me in. I was a nude wild child that morning, king of the world. Now I was a filthy redneck kid caked with mud and sweat. I was acutely aware of my nakedness. I became aware of my body's imperfections. The places I had grown soft over the long winter. The scar on my arm from falling on some rocks the previous summer. The freckles that covered every inch of my repeatedly sunburned body. The fact that my testicles and penis had decided to shrink up and take a nap. My genitals were somehow aware of their vulnerability, of mine.
"Yes sir?"
The Man's eyes went up and down me, stopping at my groin for what seemed like 30 seconds. His gazed worked slowly up until it met mine.
"The tank's totally dry. It's a new car. Not used to this gauge, I guess. I was sure I had couple more miles."
I nodded politely, not saying anything. Where was this going, what could he want from me?
"The car's small and the gas station's not far. Help me push, will ya?"
My mind raced around itself, looking for some sort of excuse. Looking for some alternative. I could run home, get dressed, and drive him up with a gas can. I could call the station and have them send a tow truck. My mind searched for a thousand things to say, until my lips acted on their own:
"Sure thing, sir, no problem."
So this was happening. I was going to push a car half a mile naked. Not how I expected the first nice day of the year to turn out.
The Man went around and opened his trunk. It was full of suitcases and garment bags. Thank God, I thought. He was finally going to acknowledge my nakedness and give me something to wear. Something to cover my shame.
No such luck. The Man threw a pair of sneakers at my feet, and slammed the trunk closed.
"You could use those. This road's rough."
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it."
Why was I thanking him? Shouldn't he be thanking me? My damn Southern manners.
I positioned myself at the rear of the car, and The Man stood halfway in and out of the driver's-side door.
"Alright, let's shove off."
We pushed. We shoved. It took a while, but finally the car got moving. Once it did, it seemed easier than I thought it would be. Rough work, but not impossible. Then the man got all the way in.
What started out easy quickly turned arduous. It was slow going, to say the least. My calves were on fire, and my shoulders were screaming. My entire back was rippling. I must have been quite a sight. Every five feet seemed like an eternity, but the car was moving, slow and steady.
"Good work, son. Keep going! I can see it getting closer already"
I heard a car in the distance, and before I knew it, it screamed past. For a moment I thought the driver would stop and offer help, but then I was relieved when he didn't. Did he see my nakedness? Did I hear a chuckle?
The Man occasionally put a foot out and pushed a little, but I'm not sure he was being much help. He lit a cigarette.
The road was thankfully flat, for the most part, but there was a slight upward slope about halfway to the station. The going got slower.
"C'mon, kid! Put some ass into it! Push! Push! Yeah!"
I couldn't reply. I was too out of breath. I just grunted and tried as hard as I could to push harder. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my side. A cramp. I stopped and the car seemed like it would roll back, but The Man pulled the emergency brake. He got out.
"Sorry, sir. My side cramped up," I groaned. I was bent over and breathing heavy.
"Shake it out. You'll be fine. Get back there!" His voice was raised. Not angry, but firm and stern. I took a deep breath. I had to finish this. I took another breath, and another.
"Push!"
"Y...y..yes sir!" I was trembling. He made me nervous in a way only my father could. He made me embarrassed in a way I had never been. There was another pain in my side, but not nearly as bad as the one before. The Man stared at me. Suddenly I was aware that a warm, thin stream of urine was trickling involuntarily from my dick and down my leg. The embarrassment deepened, but he said nothing about it.
The cramp subsided, and I got back in position. The Man helped me get the car rolling, and got back in. It was not so bad now. Soon, gravity gave way and we were downhill all the rest of the journey. Not that it was much of a hill, but my muscles were overwhelmed with relief.
I saw him take a long swig from a bottle of fruit punch. I was so thirsty.
We neared the station. 50 more yards. 50 more feet. 20 more feet. The Man steered us round to the pumps and finally we were there.
I had hoped to make a quick exit into the woods before anyone else saw me, but then the gas station attendant came out. I knew him well.
"Well, hey they Jimmy. What the hell have you gotten into?" the attendant sort of chuckled at me.
"Hi, Uncle Rob," I replied "Just helping this stranded gentleman."
"I won't ask any more, but you're gonna get in some real trouble one day if you don't keep back from the road when you're when you're streakin'! Your daddy's gonna whup you!" Uncle Rob was used to my antics.
The Man took me in his gaze one last time. Part of me wished he needed more from me, another part of me just wanted to run home. My father would indeed whup me if I didn't check in soon.
"Thanks kid," The Man said calmly. He reached in his pocket and pulled a $5 bill from a stack full of $100s. "Here, for your trouble."
I took the five dollars, and returned The Man's shoes, soaked as they were in sweat and piss. His attention left me and he started shooting off instructions to my uncle. He had used me up, and now he was done.
Uncle Rob started pumping gas, and I retreated into the trees without a goodbye. I felt more exhausted than I had in a very long time. I also felt sort of loose and light. Limp and clammy like cold spaghetti. I wondered if that was how people felt after sex. I laughed out loud at that idea. I made my way home through the trees. I would keep far back from the road from now on.
Or at least for a while.