This picture reminds me of the book The Winter of Our Discotheque by Andrew W.M. Beierle. It begins with the story of a surfer who is washing off the salt water behind a gas station when a customer pulls up. He quickly gets into his coveralls but doesn't zip them up and leaves them undone, enough to see his wet pubic hair. The story then continues from there and I am doing it no justice because it is one of the single sexiest things I've ever read in literature. Before it became the beginnings of a novel, it was featured as a short story in Rebel Yell called "Pump Jockey."