Jim and the East Village Dude by Revitup Man

 It was almost 10 o'clock when Jim looked up from his computer. If he didn't hurry he'd miss the 10:30 train, which was the last train out of the city that stopped at his station. He had a lot more work to do, but it was Friday night and he was tired. Besides, he really didn't want to have to walk from the station before his to his this late at night. His station was in an industrial area, so it was scary enough walking to his car in the deserted parking lot, much less walking through the streets to get to the station from the next one which was almost a mile away.

The train wasn't very crowded at all. One of the benefits of working so late was that he could have a whole row of seats to himself on the trip back to New Jersey. Almost immediately after he sat down his eyes closed and he was sound asleep. He completely slept through the first stops and only woke up as the train was pulling into Linden. Good, thought Jim. Only 15 minutes or so and we'll be to Jersey Avenue. Besides having the train seat to himself Jim liked getting home on the last train for another reason. Since the parking lot would be deserted at this hour he could sit and rev up his car for a few minutes. A 67 Cutlass with a 331 engine in it, the car could really scream when pushed. It didn't run too well until warmed up anyway since the carb really needed some work, but Jim always revved it a bit more then necessary. (And sometimes a lot more then necessary.)

As the train eased into the Rahway station Jim glanced across the aisle at the kid on the other side. Maybe 19, he looked like he might hang out in the east village. Cute, but a little grungy . Sort of like the models in the Calvin Klein ads. Very skinny, longish, messy hair, baggy jeans and sweatshirt. Too young, thought Jim. But at least he's got good taste in reading material. Hot Rodder magazine. When Jim was a teenager he'd had a huge collection of car magazines. He'd go to the local dragstrip with his cassette recorder and make tapes of the drivers revving their engines and then go home and beat off while he played the tapes and looked at the pictures of the cars in the magazines. Seeing the kid's magazine made Jim think back to those countless hours spent pouring over the magazines and his dick started to stir.

After he'd turned his gaze back to the front something caught his attention beside him. Could it be? No. Then he glanced sideways again. Sure enough. The kid had his hand in his pants! He was holding the magazine over his lap which hid it pretty well, but it was undeniable. The other hand was inside his pants. After a minute or so, the kid pulled his hand out. Maybe he just needed to adjust his dick, thought Jim. But after a minute it happened again! Very slyly his hand drifted under the magazine and then into his pants where it looked like he was massaging his dick.

Jim couldn't believe what he was seeing. Now he had to adjust his pants. It was a good thing that they were almost to his stop. If he had to watch this show too much longer it would definitely make him crazy. "New Brunswick," shouted the conductor. One more stop, thought Jim. He was already imagining getting in his car, opening his pants and beating off madly to the sound of his car and the vision of this kid playing with himself on a train heading into the night.

As they were slowing for Jim's stop he glanced over at the kid one last time. Much to his surprise the kid was no longer playing with himself. In fact he was closing the magazine and putting it in his bookbag. He couldn't be getting off here, could he? There was nothing near the station at all other then a parking lot and the huge warehouses that would be dark and deserted by now. Most people that got off at this station just got in their cars and drove a few miles into the nearby subdivisions.

As Jim followed the kid off the train the kid looked around and muttered "Shit." "What's the matter?" Jim asked. "I was hoping there'd be a taxi here. I'm supposed to be meeting my friends at a club out here, but I think it's too far to walk." Without hesitating Jim heard himself say to the kid, "I can give you a ride. You're right, there's nothing close by here but warehouses. It wouldn't be safe for you to be walking around here at this hour." The kid looked at Jim a bit warily and then said, "What if you're an ax murderer who wants to kidnap me or something?" Chuckling Jim said, "I'll tell you what. Just so you don't have to worry I'll let you drive." With that the kid seemed satisfied and they headed towards the far side of the parking lot. On the way over to Jim's car Jim couldn't help but notice the huge feet the kid had. They must've been size 14s. And even more exciting, Jim could see that the Converse high-tops the kid was wearing had seen better days. There were clearly some large holes in the sides where Jim could see the kids white socks.

As they got towards Jim's car the kid's eyes popped out of his head. "Is that your car?!" he said, a look of shock on his face. "There was a big spread of a '68 Cutlass in this month's Hot Rodder magazine! I love the old Cutlasses!"

As they got in Jim warned the kid, "Mine's not quite as nice as the ones in the magazines. The carb's a bit messed up and it needs a tuneup, so it'll probably be a bit tough to start and will take a few minutes to warm up before we'll be able to go anywhere." "Not a problem," said the kid, who didn't need any more prompting before he started mashing the gas pedal to the floor repeatedly, his big foot entirely covering the pedal. After about ten hard pumps to the floor he twisted the key in the ignition. As the engine began to crank he pumped it even faster. He kept cranking it for at least 30 seconds, pumping the gas furiously the whole time. Jim didn't have the heart to tell him that it tended to run rich. Finally the kid stopped cranking it for a few seconds. When he started cranking it the second time he pumped the pedal even harder, his heavy foot making the pedal slap on the floor. Thud, thud, thud, over and over as the engine struggled to start.

The engine was picking up speed now, almost starting. When the kid let off the key though, it didn't keep running. By this time all the other cars had left the parking log. Unable to resist, Jim needled the kid. "Maybe I should drive after all. At this rate we'll never get there." "I'll get it this time," said the kid, "no matter what I have to do." When he started cranking it the third time he seemed to realize that it might be flooded because he held the pedal mashed down to the floor. After what seemed like an hour of cranking, but was probably only about a minute, the engine finally sputtered to life. As the kid let go of the key the engine coughed and chugged, clearly quite flooded. Holding the gas to the floor the kid turned his head to Jim and smiled broadly. "I told you I'd get it going. And I'm not going to let it die either. This car needs to know who's in charge here." The engine began to pick up speed rapidly but the kid didn't let off the gas at all. Jim watched nervously as the tachometer rose towards redline. Finally, as the engine got up to about 4500 rpms the kid eased up a bit on the gas, but still held the engine at 4000 rpms.

"She sounds awesome!" The kid yelled over the roar of the engine. After about a minute the kid started to massage the pedal, letting the engine slow down a bit, then romping on the pedal bringing it right back up to redline. By this time Jim's dick was straining mightily inside his pants, and he desperately needed to adjust it. The kid saw him do it and with a smirk said, "You like this an awful lot don't you?" As he finished the sentence he mashed the pedal to the floor and held it there for several seconds before letting off and letting the engine idle down. Jim nodded his head, not sure what the kid would do next. "Why don't you take out your dick and jerk off." Said the kid. Jim tried to say no, but the kid obviously had other ideas. Gradually he started to bring the engine's speed back up. "I'll tell you what," he said, "I'm going to keep pushing the gas to the floor until you unzip your pants and start playing with yourself." Jim and the kid stared hard at each other as the kid's foot slowly sank to the floor. When the engine got to the point that it was missing and backfiring, Jim realized that the kid wasn't going to back down. He was so aroused at this point anyway; he gave in and started to unzip his pants. Jim slid his pants and underwear down around his knees and took his cock in his right hand. Finally the kid eased up on the gas and the engine slowed to about 3000 rpms.

"That's good." Said the kid. "Now, with your other hand I want you to jerk me off at the same time." Realizing that it was pointless to resist, Jim reached over and began to unzip the boy's baggy jeans. Since he wasn't wearing any underwear, his dick sprang out as soon as Jim had finished with the zipper. Now, with a cock in each hand, Jim began an up and down motion. The kid began pumping the gas in rhythm to Jim's hands. Both of them were breathing hard now, getting more and more excited. As Jim pumped their cocks faster the kid's huge foot stomped faster and faster on the pedal, mashing it firmly to the floor with each thrust. Finally the kid slammed the pedal to the floor with all his might and arched his back as his dick erupted with rope after rope of thick white cum. Seeing this sent Jim over the edge, his cock exploding with an equal expulsion of cum.