I was cruising along my favourite Highway in the US, Highway # 1, the Pacific Coast Highway which runs the length of Westcoast of the continental US. It was a fall day in late September, but today was hot, with a storm brewing along the coast and moving in fast.
I was about 40 miles south of Ft Bragg CA, when I happened to pass a fellow biker on the shoulder of the road. He had placed his helmet on the ground behind his bike which is a universal signal for fellow bikers that he is in need of assistance.
I was processing this in my mind as I passed him by. He looked up as he heard my Harley slowing and pulling over on the grass shoulder. There is not much for shoulders along this section of the highway, it is asphalt to the edge of the road, then tall brown grass yielding to the wind as it blows in from the ocean in this northern section of Sonoma County.
I circled back and pulled up behind his bike, the other rider approached me as I was taking my helmet off. We exchanged casualties, and he explained the ailment that was plaguing his bike. He introduced himself and gave me the low down on his bike and the problem -- it was an older model Road King with obvious modifications and an S&S big bore kit. The good news in that was that it was still a carbureted bike with standard ignition... Perhaps I could help out!
I grabbed my tool kit and started doing some basic diagnostic checks. Ken assisted me as we removed the seat and side panels. It was soon apparent that there was no spark to fire the engine. As we worked, I could not help but notice that Ken was a tall lean handsome and athletic man. It was warm and we both were perspiring as we worked. It took me a bit, but I did finally find the issue that had caused the lack of spark, a broken wire to the aftermarket coils.
We soon had the bike fired and started the reassembly of components when the storm set in on us with a hard driving rain. We finished and quickly got our riding gear back on when Ken mentioned that he lived not far away, he suggested that I should stop in at his place and wait out the storm. With only a brief hesitation I accepted his offer, and we headed off. I followed him to his place while the rain soaked through my gear. Ken lived a short distance off the highway in a small older cozy cabin like home. We pulled up, parked, and quickly grabbed our bags to escape the deluge of rain. Ken opened the door and stood aside for me to go in first.
Once inside we started shaking off the rain and our wet gear. We were both soaked right through to our skin. Ken mentioned that he had an outdoor shower just through the back door on the patio, I was welcome to have a shower while he tossed my clothes into the dryer. I had camped the night before, as such a hot shower seemed like a great idea. I walked through the back door and stepped out of my shorts as I walked up to the shower and turned on the taps.
I adjusted the water temp and stood under the stream. There was some shampoo on the ledge, so I applied it and worked up a lather. I heard Ken when he offered me a beer, but with soap on my face I did not open my eyes, but accepted his offer for the cold beer. I grasped the can and took a swig, then placed it on the ledge where the shampoo was. Then Ken said, "Move over, don't be a shower hog!!" I was startled and rinsed the shampoo from my face then stepped aside a bit. When I opened my eyes Ken was under the water, naked right next to me. He said, "I hope you don't mind, but there is limited hot water available, so sharing is required."
Never one to be bashful I commented that all was good! As Ken ran the water over his head with his eyes closed I looked down and was mesmerized by the site of his large, beautiful cut cock and large shaved balls. Thinking to myself... very nice!!
