Jeff and the English Teacher's Car by Revitup Man

I got to the garage where my friend Jerry works at about 10 o’clock. It was Saturday morning and a couple of cars had been dropped off Friday that needed to be done by Monday morning. When I got there Jerry was talking to Todd, the other mechanic. "Yeah man, that asshole, Mr. Simpson showed up at 5:30 with that stupid old LTD and said he’s gotta have it first thing Monday. From the way he described it, it sounds like a carburetor problem, but I can’t run any tests on it till it’s warmed up. As cold as it is, it’ll take 15-20 minutes before it’ll be ready."

Jerry wasn’t kidding either. It had gotten down to 10 degrees the night before. Just then Todd’s younger brother Jeff hobbled in. He was 18, gorgeous, the star of the football team, and on crutches at the moment. He’d broken his ankle scoring the winning touchdown 3 weeks ago, and had been wearing a cast with a white sock to keep his foot and toes from freezing.

"Jeff, Jerry needs a favor," said Todd. It was no secret to Todd or Jerry that Jeff had a crush on Jerry, so they both knew that Jeff would do anything if it was a favor for him. "He needs you to warm up Mr. Simpson’s car so that he can do some tests on it."

"My English teacher???"

"Yeah. Your favorite." Jeff hadn’t done to well on the midterm a couple of weeks earlier. Mr. Simpson hated football and always graded the guys on the team extra tough.

"For you, Jerry, I’ll warm that car up. I’ll warm it up good." And with that he stood up and ambled outside with his crutches.

Knowing that Jeff could hold quite a grudge we all watched through the big plate glass window to see what he was going to do. He got in the car and hadn’t even bothered to close the door, let alone bring his left foot in before he’d jammed the key in the ignition and wrenched it around with a sharp twist of his wrist. The engine groaned from the cold and we could see Jeff furiously pumping away at the gas. By the third try he was totally engrossed in what he was doing, talking to the car, giving it dirty looks, and still pounding at the gas pedal. On the fourth try he just slammed the gas to the floor and with a cough the engine stumbled and sputtered to life briefly before stalling. On the next try it started right up and Jeff, still swearing angrily at the car, proceeded to pump the gas pedal with his cast covered foot as if his life depended on it. Since the oil hadn’t started to flow yet, the engine sounded horrible and obviously didn’t want to run, so Jeff kept forcing a lot of gas into it to make it run.

Almost immediately think clouds of steam were coming out of the tailpipe in big puffs. After a minute or so the engine started sounding more normal, but Jeff became even more focused on it, seeming to be upset that he wasn’t making it suffer, so he started revving it even harder. Now he was just holding the gas about halfway to the floor, just letting it rev at what must’ve been faster than redline. Steam was pouring out of the tailpipe now, filling the garage’s parking lot with exhaust.

After the car seemed to get used to this, Jeff tried a different tactic. He started pumping the gas all the way to the floor. First with short bursts, and then gradually holding it floored longer until he finally floored it and just held the accelerator there.

Jerry, Todd & I stared in shock at what happened next. Jeff unzipped his jeans and yanked his rock hard dick out and came all over the steering wheel and dashboard. Then he put his dick away and got up and hobbled back inside and said, "I think Mr. Simpson’s car is ready now," and sat down with a grin.