Cranking the '59 Chrysler by BiDen

Walking out of my driveway, I made a left to go and see what the problem might have been. {as if I were a mechanic myself}. When I finally got to my neighbor's house, I found that it was his son Orlando, who was trying to start the car. And I might add, that he was quite hot. Beautiful African-American brother, with feet one would just die for. He must have been in his late teens or early twenties at the time. He was clad in a plain white T-shirt, black slacks, black and white rubber thongs. He had his friend in the front seat. Apparently, they were going on some type of errond, but that New Yorker just wouldn't let them.

Orlando was cranking and cranking, and he was really tearing that floor-mounted pedal an brand new ass. I would even say about fifty or sixty strokes per minute. By this time, I had made my way to the driver's side, where all the action was. I could see his right foot pounding away on that pedal, as the starter just grinded. At times that car would actually turn over and run. Black exhaust was everywhere. But the amount of time it ran wasn't enough to pulled out of his driveway and drive. The car kept on stalling out. It was quite plain to see that the carb was not getting enough gas. So Orlando just kept pumping and cranking. By now my dick got so hard, that I began to stroke it right in front of him. He yelled to the car: "come on baby", but the car just wouldn't keep running. And each time it stalled, he would nearly pump a hole through the floorboard.

After about thirty minutes of this, Orlando's father came out to assist him. By that time, I stopped stroking my cock. His father got behind the wheel with his socked feet, and did the same exact thing. And of course, that old New Yorker just wouldn't keep running. Finally, his father got an old gas can, and started pouring it into the carb. Orlando got behind the wheel, and pumped about seven strokes, turned the key, and the same thing happened. Eventhough he would floor it sometimes to clear the gas out, the car just didn't want to start that day. It seemed that the more his father poured, Orlando kept pumping, making it richer, and richer. Finally, his father got tired, and went back into the house, and it was once again just Orlando and his friend. At one time, his friend got behind the wheel, but didn't do too much pumping. I guess he felt that the carb already had enough gas. But even with his friend the car did the same exact thing it had been doing all that time, which was stalling out.

Once more, Orlando got behind the wheel, and this time, it was more like a vengeance against the car. He pumped and pumped, and each time the car ran for about 30 seconds and died out. Between each stall-out, he would yell: "come baby, I know you can do it". And each time he would yell, he would pump the pedal faster and harder. My cock again go so hard, that I was really tempted to pull it out, but I didn't. I just stroked it in my pants. Then the one thing I thought would never happen. When he cranked it for about the 40th time the car ran and stalled out again, but only this time, as it was stalling, the carb caught fire. No big explosion, just a "poof". Orlando ran to the front of the car, took off his T-shirt (wow, what a body), and put the carb fire out. Once that was taken care of, he got back behind the wheel, and pumped it again. He tired to start it for the last time, and the car stalled out again. He finally had enough, and Orlando and his friend went back into the house.

The only thing I wish, was that Orlando got a pedicure, not that his toenails needed it. But it sure would have been a beautiful sight to see his toenails glisten with three coats of clear nail polish, as he pumped that pedal on that day.