Cameron Diaz, major actress, Hollywood beauty, was driving her Toyota Prius when it mysteriously conked out somewhere along a road designated only as TR-90 on the map. She was heading to Westwood, Hollywood. Luckily, she spotted a lone gas station about a hundred yards away. It took her 10 minutes to push the car by herself into the gas station.
"Hello, anybody here!" she called panting.
She walked over to a slightly opened door and peered inside. A rocky tune where she kept hearing 'get your kick on route 66' was blasting inside. She sensed that somebody must be in there.
"Knock, knock, can I come in here? I need help," she called out louder.
When no one was answering she walked cautiously inside. It's a service shop and there was one vehicle covered and an old Chevy pick up. She saw a shadow moved inside the pick-up. She walked closer. The door of the vehicle was opened and someone's leg was protruding at the threshold.
"Oops!" Her hand flew to her mouth. She saw a good-looking guy in denim overalls seated on the passenger front seat, holding his big dick with one hand and on the other was a girly magazine to which he was staring. Obviously he was jerking himself off. Her throat dried and felt her knees buckled. She wanted to run back to the door but a voice inside her told her to stay and watch.
She cleared her throat aloud making her presence felt.
The guy was jolted by surprise and quickly hid his private.
"Ah, sorry about that ah, ah anything I can do?" The guy stammered as he got off the truck.
"Aren't you gonna finish with what you're doing?" Cameron said impishly. "I can wait," she added.
"I, I am sorry... I... I..." his voice faltering. He lowered the volume of the radio in the truck when it broke the afternoon edition of the news.
"Oh, not at all. I should be the one to be sorry, I burst in...ah I mean the door was open and I walked in trying to find someone who could help me with my car."
"Wha-what's the problem?"
"I don't know, it won't start. It's outside. Would you kindly care to check it out please?"
"Yeah, sure. Ok, after you, ma'am."
Cameron was wearing a white silk-knit halter dress that quit at the middle of her shapely sun-washed thighs and teamed up with leather thong sandals.
"Excuse me ma'am, but are you Cameron Diaz, the actress?"
"Guilty."
"Jeez! I'm certainly glad to see you in person," the guy's heart leaped and his face broke into a wide grin.
"After I fix your car, would you sign me an autograph?"
"Yeah, sure." I can even suck your dick for all you know, she thought.
"By the way, my name is Austin Prowler. You can call me Ooze."
"Ooze, what a...a juicy name! I hope you could fix whatever trouble my car had. It's just new."
Ooze was dark, brooding and a throwback from the 80s. He was sporting a hairstyle that Mel Gibson popularized in his movie "Lethal Weapon' and a five o'clock shadow. His mesmerizing green-eyes made Cameron weak-kneed.
"Yeah, I'll take a look," said Ooze.
They went outside and Ooze was taken aback by the white gleaming vehicle. "Wow! It's the Prius, the future car they say. Oh, what could be the problem? I know there's only few of this type of car on the road."
He opened the hood, examined it and he was full of interest. "Gosh, these batteries may weigh as much as you weigh. Hmmm. Can I have the key to start?"
Cameron gave him the keys. Ooze smelled first the driver seat before he climbed inside. "Wow, this car is really a honey," Ooze said as he breathed in the smell and examined the interior.
He started the car and the engine came to life in a reassuring hum. Coded colored lights appeared digitally on the panel. Everything was working fine.
"It's working!" He started on the reverse and swung the car on the road, and called Cameron to hop in. She did and they cruised on the road. It ran fine and smooth like how her dress rode up on her endless legs quitting at the alarming level.
When they came back he told her that he would just have to gas her up. Cameron suddenly thought to herself that she needed a fill up too with the kind of hunk like him.
"This is a hybrid vehicle that switches between gasoline and electricity. Gas is nearly empty. However you should treat it as a conventional vehicle. Don't drive it relying on batteries alone. "I'll check underneath," he said.
He rolled on his back underneath the car. Cameron stood casting her eyes down on his crotch and what she saw in the car shop kept flashing in her mind. She felt a stirring in her loins that were building up by the minute. When he moved out, she let him ogled her legs. His eyes crinkled and told her that nothing was wrong underneath and the car was in tip top shape.
He rose to his feet and brushed both his palms and their eyes locked.