The Longest Road Pt. 03

Paul spent most of the next morning under his truck. There was an oil leak and he was allowed by Mrs M to use the crude workshop to sort it out. That's how it went out here. People helped each other out, not for money, not for favour. You helped out because that's what you do.

Without being asked Paul fixed the vintage water pump so that guests could have a shower at the same time as each other. Mrs M's showering timetable was getting on everyone's nerves, and his heroic effort did not go un-noticed.

Monique had done her best to keep out of sight. She didn't want to see him, and hoped he would just hurry up and go fix his fence. But she had work to do and she accepted that she might have to speak to him. She vowed she would be civil, but give him nothing to further encourage him. All was going to plan until she decided to slip into the cool room to get some more ice. She wasn't dressed for work yet, but she thought while it was quiet, she could grab a few bags of ice before she had her breakfast.

In her haste she slipped and crashed to the floor on her back, scratching her foot painfully on an old wooden crate, and dropping her torch (the light had blown months ago). The profanity that escaped her lips was as loud and as crude as anything uttered by the local jillaroos.

"Are you ok?" Paul asked, picking up the torch and shining the light into her eyes, before realising what he was doing. "Oh. It's you! You OK?"

Monique was so angry with her situation and with Paul for coming to her rescue. She fought her instinct to lash out at him. She took a deep breath. "I slipped. Stupid cool room light! I've told Mrs M plenty of times that it's dangerous."

Paul tried to suppress a smile. She looked very cute when she was angry, and she was really angry.

"Let's get you up off that cold floor." Paul said kindly and reached down and gently helped her get up by pulling her by the elbow.

"Looks like you've been wounded," he added, allowing the torch to shine on her foot. Blood trickled from a 10cm scratch. "That'll need a bandage. Let's have a look at the rest of you." He slowly let the torch light travel up those long legs, over the short blue running shorts, and up over her white blouse.

"Not really dressed for a cold store, are you?" He said with a chuckle, as the light momentarily lingered on her engorged nipples that were protruding embarrassingly through her flimsy white blouse. Monique's face flushed a hot bright red in the cool darkness of the cold room. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry. She wanted to punch him in the face. She felt so silly. She felt confused. Part of her wanted to pack her bags and be rid of this terrible place forever. Another part of her wanted to drop to her knees, open her mouth and suck his penis deep inside her.

He guided her by the hand outside, into the light and the heat. He sat her down in the dining room and disappeared, returning with the first aid kit from his truck. He daintily applied antiseptic before sticking a very large bandage over the wound.

"Can't take any chances out here." He added thoughtfully, pleased with his handy work. He paused as his eyes travelled slowly up those long smooth legs. Monique felt her heart pounding in her chest. Her mouth was dry.

"Well thank you, Paul, for coming to my rescue. I would have been alright, but it was very kind of you to help me." She smiled as she stood up quickly, stepped passed him, and headed out the door. Paul stood dumbly as he watched her blue bottom disappear from view. His erection was killing him. He had to dash to the toilet for a re-adjustment.

---

He spent the rest of his "day off" helping old Barney fix the brakes on his utility, before hitting the bar to watch a bit of the cricket. Monique kept herself busy and avoided him for the remainder of the day. It was not until the Mrs M's lamb roast had been devoured and most of the punters gone that he caught up with Monique and Mrs M, on the back porch. Mrs M made her excuses and left them alone before Paul had the chance to sit down. Monique cursed her under her breath. The silence was deafening, until Paul broke the ice.

"I can't stop thinking about you, Monique. Whilst I was out there it was hell, all I could do was think of you. I'm not like these ringers you get through here. I'm a decent bloke. You really oughta give me a fair go."

"A fair go? What is it you want from me?" Monique replied, her voice faltering as her emotions welled up inside her.

"I want to get to know you."

"Well I'm sorry, but I don't want to get to know you. You seem nice and I'm sure a lot of girls would love to get to know you, but I'm out here to save some money. That's all I'm looking for," she retorted.

"What are you saving for?"

"That's my business."

"Sorry. What do you want to do with your life?"

"Mind my own business."

"You're not very friendly."

"Nope."

"You like me?"

"Nope."

"Do you want to try and like me?"

"Nope"

"Would you like to go out with me, just once, just to see if there was anything?"

"No thanks."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Nothing."

"Then come out with me?"

"I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not interested."

"Why not, are you gay?"

"If I was gay, would you leave me alone?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm gay."

"No you're not. I don't believe you. I felt something when I first met you. You felt it too. You nearly dropped the water."

"I, did, not, I - " Monique stuggled to get her words out. She drew in a long breath. "Look, you are a really nice, handsome man. You can do great things with your life. You don't want or need to have anything to do with someone like me. Forget about me and go look for someone more suitable. There's plenty of jillaroo's on the stations, they are always talking about meeting Mr Right and settling down."

"I'm not interested in loud, gold digging, feral jillaroo's! I'm interested in the tall, slim, shy, sensitive girl who works at Long Bore. I'm interested in you!"

Monique could not contain her emotions any longer. She burst into tears and cradled her face into her hands. Paul went to console her but she pushed him away. He sat there as she wailed into her lap. He felt terrible. What horrors had she been through to react like this? He wanted to hold her, to wrap her up in his big arms and smother those smooth orange lips with his. He longed to stroke her hair, to hold her tight, to be with her, to be inside her, to love her.

She stopped. Slowly she composed herself. She carefully wiped her tears with the handkerchief he had given her.

"Alright. Come up to my room right now and I'll explain everything, but you must promise me two things?"

"Ofcourse! What are they?"

"One, you don't tell anyone else. On your life!"

"Yes, yes, of course. What else?"

"You promise not to hurt me?"

"Of course, but why would I need to promise that?"

"Just promise me!"

"OK. I promise I will never hurt you."

"Give me five minutes, then come up. Number 17."

The minutes went passed like hours. Paul's heart was pounding as he checked and rechecked his watch. Finally the minute hand moved into position. He crept up the creaky old external stairs. He tapped on her door, and slowly entered. It was dimly lit but he saw her standing in a corner of the room with her back to him. Her shoulders were heaving as she fought to contain her breathing. The door clicked shut softly and she turned to face him. Without a word she reached down, grabbed the hem of her skirt in front of each knee and slowly lifted the sad flowers upwards.

In the dimly lit room it was hard to see clearly but as the dress rose higher there was no mistaking it. Between her long slender legs, where her vagina should have been, a tiny little penis rested against a brown wrinkly sack with two tiny testes.

Paul's initial reaction was to hit her, but he restrained himself. Then he wanted to vomit, but that sensation passed as well. He stood there, his breathing heavy and tense. He felt numb. He felt like he'd been thrown from a galloping horse. He backed out of the room, fumbling with the door in both the opening and the closing, and somehow got downstairs into his own room. He sat in the darkness and breathed hard. His mind a whirl of anger, confusion, disbelief, and shock.

He'd fallen in love with a man.

---

Paul left at first light the next morning. He'd been up since 4am, loading up his rig with provisions for an extended stay. He would stay as long as he needed, get the bloody fences fixed, get his cash, and be gone. Long Bore had seen the last of him.