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Grove Street
Commuting from New Jersey to New York can be a real grind. There just isn't any easy way. For five years since graduating from college and entering the real world I had been making the 25-mile trip from home to work, suffering through an hour and a half of travel in the morning and again at night. First there was over half an hour of stop-and-go traffic to go ten miles through the heart of congested urban North Jersey. Even with no accidents it seemed to take forever. Then parking in Harrison and catching a PATH train for what was scheduled as a twenty-minute ride into downtown Manhattan but usually took longer. There was never a place to sit on the train. In fact, there was barely room to stand. Most days the train cars were packed like sardine cans with people jammed up against each other. And then the exodus from the train station several stories underground and the ascent up to the street for the walk across town to my office. In nice weather, which didn't seem to occur very often, it was a pleasant walk. In bad weather it was torture. The cross streets of lower Manhattan turned into wind tunnels. And as bad as the morning commute was, it was worse in the evening. There always seemed to be more people leaving the city at night than coming in in the morning.
After a while you learn to tune out the rest of the crowd. If you're lucky you can escape into your own world. It's hard to do while driving or walking, but on the train it was easy. I always had my CD player and headphones and as soon as I'd pushed my way onto the car I'd turn up the volume and close my eyes for the duration. I'd usually open my eyes at each station and look around, sometimes when the train stopped between stations. But for the most part I was in a trance on the train, off in a dream world with my music. Until one morning when the train ride became the most interesting and exciting part of the trip. The train stopped at Grove Street in Jersey City and a crowd pushed its way on. Right at the front was a short muscular black guy around my age. He was wearing a tee shirt and skintight jeans. He was kind of hot looking but what really caught my eye was the unbelievable bulge in his jeans. I couldn't take my eyes off it and didn't understand why no one else was staring. It was so obvious. Even if you weren't checking out baskets you couldn't miss it. The guy grabbed the pole across the car from me. I tore my eyes away from his bulge and looked at his face. He was staring right at me. Busted! He gave me a small, knowing smile, reached down and gave his package an unnecessary adjustment and turned to face the front of the car as the train began to move. He got off at the end of the line and disappeared into the crowd.
After that I kept an eye out for him every morning. I made a point of getting on the same car every day just in case he was a creature of habit. Sometimes he showed up, sometimes he didn't. The trains run every three minutes during rush hour so it's hard to catch the same train every day. Now and then I saw him on the platform waiting for an outbound train in the afternoon. When that happened I squeezed through the crowd to stand as close to him as I could to make sure we got on the same car.
Once I actually managed to get a seat and he stood right in front of me, facing me for the ten-minute ride to Grove Street. I was mesmerized by the huge lump in his jeans right in front of me at eye level. Halfway under the river I looked up at him. He just looked down at me with that same smile again. I looked back at his crotch and saw the bulge starting to grow across his left hip. It was obscenely big and looked like it was going to rip the fabric of his jeans. As the train came to a stop at Grove Street he gave it a little rub, turned and left the train. It took me the rest of the ride to compose myself.
Another time the two of us ended up crushed together facing each other. I could feel his package pressing into my hip. Just before his stop I got brave, reached down and ran a finger along it. He sighed as the train came to a stop and smiled at me as he exited. Yet another time he was crushed up against me from behind. The whole trip I could feel him pressing against my butt. Every time the train lurched he seemed to add a little thrust of his own. By the time he left at Grove Street I was totally hard myself.
A couple of weeks went by and I didn't see him. I was getting frantic. He had become the bright spot of my commute and when he was on board I never knew what he might do. Finally, one evening I saw him on the platform. I pushed my way onto the same car as him and we were pressed together by the door. Halfway between Exchange Place and Grove Street the train stopped in the tunnel and the lights went out. This was a pretty normal occurrence. The delays rarely lasted over a minute. I felt his hand take mine and place it on his bulge, which felt even bigger than it usually looked. It also felt hard. I squeezed and caressed it a few seconds. He reached around me with his other hand and grabbed my ass. He whispered into my ear.
"You want it, don't you?" I couldn't get a word to come out of my mouth. "You know you do. Think you can handle it?"
With that the power came back on and the train started up. We pulled into the station, the doors opened and he walked out. Halfway across the platform he turned and looked at me. He raised his eyebrows, nodded his head toward the stairs and gave me that smile. Just as the doors started to close I made my decision and leaped through them. He turned and walked toward the exit and I followed.
When we reached the street he stopped and turned toward me, holding out his hand.
"Hi, I'm Dave. I guess it's about time we formally met."
"Yeah, I guess so. I'm Mike."
We shook hands and I looked at him. He was probably in his late 20s like me but other than that we had nothing in common. He had dark brown skin and a buzz cut. He was probably around 5'8" tall and very muscular with broad shoulders, big pecs and bulging biceps. His chest tapered down to a tiny waist, maybe 28" and slim hips. And of course there was that big package in front and a hot round bubble butt behind. He was one hot stud no matter what he had in his pants. I was 28, 6'1", 155 pounds, light brown hair and pale skin. I was slim and had that long and lean look.
He turned and started walking so I followed along, looking around. I'd never been above ground in this part of Jersey City so I wanted to make sure I wasn't getting lost. We'd only gone two blocks when he went up the steps to a brownstone and took out his keys. I followed him to the second floor and waited while he unlocked the door on the left at the top of the stairs.
We went into the apartment and he turned and pulled me into a tight hug as the door closed. He kissed me hard and pushed his tongue into my mouth as he thrust his hips into mine. As he kissed me he grabbed my right nipple through my shirt and pinched it hard. It hurt, stung like hell, but I wanted more. He backed me against the door and continued the kiss. He loosened my tie and unbuttoned my shirt, then reached inside the shirt, grabbed both nipples and pinched and twisted them. My knees buckled at the intense sensation and I gasped.
"Oh yeah, you're a horny bastard, aren't ya? You want me so bad and that's just how you're gonna get me."
He took advantage of my breathlessness and stepped back and undid my belt and unfastened my pants. He grabbed both my slacks and boxers and yanked them down around my ankles in one motion. I kicked off my shoes and stepped out of my pants. He removed my shirt and I was left standing there in my socks. He was still fully dressed. He pulled me across the room. It was a studio apartment, just one large room, with an alcove for the bed, which was really just a mattress and box spring on the floor. He pushed down on my shoulders and I sat on the mattress. As I took off my socks he pulled off his tee shirt, exposing a hairless muscular chest. He took my hand and placed it on the waistband of his jeans. I quickly began to unfasten them, not taking my eyes off that huge package which was inches away from my face. I slowly peeled down the tight jeans and noticed he wasn't wearing any underwear. It was a bit of a struggle getting his jeans down over his dick but when I finally did it sprung out and swung around, slapping me in the cheek. I leaned back and took a good look at it.
It wasn't the longest dick I'd ever seen or handled but it was easily over eight inches. What made it so impressive and created that obscene bulge was that it was the thickest cock I'd ever seen. I'd heard the term beer can and always figured that was just an expression. His dick might not have been quite as big around as a beer can but it was definitely close. And it was plenty longer. I put my hand on it and felt the smooth hard organ. When I closed my fist around it my fingers didn't come within half an inch of meeting. I looked up into his eyes and he smiled down at me, that same knowing smile. He moved in closer until the head was brushing my lips, then pushed a little.
"Go on, lick it. You're allowed."
I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out and licked his head. I leaned in and took the head in my mouth. I had my mouth open as far as it would go and I had to be extra careful not to scrape him with my teeth. I could only take a little more than the head but I sucked it as well as I could.
He pulled out and pushed me further back onto the mattress, lying down on top of me. He resumed kissing me, raping my mouth with his tongue, pressing his dick into mine. When he came up for air I looked around and noticed that the walls on either side of the bed were all mirrors. Whichever way I looked I saw me and Dave, naked. He swung around into a sixty-nine position. Since I am only average in both length and width he had no trouble swallowing my whole dick in one gulp. When he began to suck his hot wet mouth drove me crazy. The man definitely knew what he was doing. I tried to return the favor but again couldn't get much of him into my mouth. After a few minutes in this position he moved away and sat up.
"Let's try this. Move over here."
He had me lay on my back with my head just over the edge of the foot of the mattress and then knelt on the floor just above my head. He leaned forward and pushed his dick into my mouth. I knew this trick; in fact I had used it a few times. By letting my head hang back it stretched out my throat and gave him a straight shot at it. While I had long ago learned to tame my gag reflex and at times could deep throat a good-sized dick I knew there was no way he was going to get something that thick down my throat. He started gently pumping into my mouth, hitting the entrance to my throat and going no further. My jaw was beginning to ache and I had to concentrate on not scraping him with my teeth. He kept pounding lightly at the back of my throat until unexpectedly he broke through. My throat hurt like hell as it stretched as he slipped in and tears were running down my cheeks but he kept pushing until his balls were resting on my nose. Then he stopped and just stayed in that position, buried in me.
I suddenly realized that I couldn't breathe, that his dick was completely blocking my throat. I grunted and tried to move.
"Feels good, doesn't it, Mike? I'll bet you never had anything this big in you before. Just lie back and enjoy it."
I was starting to panic and started flailing away, trying desperately to dislodge him. Finally, he chuckled and slowly withdrew. I took a deep breath through my nose and he plunged right back in. This time he didn't stay but began fucking my face. He had his hands on the mattress on either side of my waist and just kept thrusting into my throat. It felt like he was ripping me apart but at the same time there was a bit of a thrill that I was actually able to take it.
After what seemed like an hour he finally pulled out. I lay there gasping for breath, my throat feeling raw.
"See, you're better than you thought, Mikey. You've got a great mouth. Let's see how accommodating your other end is."
"Oh, no way that's gonna work, Dave," I rasped. "I'm pretty versatile but I've never taken anything near that big."
"We'll see. I'm pretty good at loosening up a stubborn hole. With a dick like mine I have to be. Besides, you've got a nice ass and I always get what I want, one way or another."
I moved around on the mattress and lay on my back with my legs spread. Dave knelt between my knees. He lifted my legs up and pushed them back over my head. I reached up and grabbed them, holding them out of his way, exposing my ass to him. He leaned in and kissed my puckered ho, then began to lick it. In no time he was sucking and slurping on my hole, forcing his tongue into me, a little at a time. I really got off on rimming, both as a top and bottom, so I was enjoying every second of his expert tongue work. He had me moaning and groaning as he worked his tongue deep inside me.
At last, he pulled back and produced some lube from somewhere and began working it in and around my hole. He looked me in the eyes and smiled as he did. I found his whole attitude and my reaction to it confusing. He was obviously a man who knew what he wanted and took it. He was forceful and demanding and could be rough. I had a feeling my throat was going to be sore for a week. Yet I acquiesced. Whatever he wanted me to do, I did without a second thought. When he said he was going to fuck me with that monster cock I accepted that he would. I consider myself versatile but in fact I am usually a top. I enjoy being on the receiving end of a good fuck now and then but I couldn't imagine being able to accommodate anything that big. Yet there I was lying on my back waiting for it.
"Just take some deep breaths and relax, Mikey. I'm gonna take my time and open you up so you enjoy this as much as me. Take a hit on that bottle of poppers if you want."
He nodded and I noticed the small brown bottle on the mattress next to my head. I unscrewed the cap, inhaled deeply through each nostril and waited for the rush. He was working one finger in and out of my hole by then. I felt him slip a second finger in and gently fuck me with them. Another hit on the brown bottle and he worked a third finger into me. This was what I was used to and had always been my limit. Actually, it was always all that was necessary, but somehow I didn't think it was gonna work this time. He squeezed his fourth finger in and started working my hole, twisting and pushing, opening me up. I kept at the popper bottle and he kept at my hole. He had patience and went slow and though I felt no pain it seemed as though he was splitting me in half. He talked all the while he was working on my ass. He started out reassuring but got a little alarming as he went on.
"You've got a hot hole, you know that, Mikey. I can't wait to get in there. You're almost loose enough. I had one guy recently who said I was the only one he had ever met who could use fisting as foreplay for a regular fucking. He was joking but with my small hands and big cock he's not far off. Maybe I should just go ahead and fist you, Mikey. Would you like that? One good shove and my hand would probably just pop in. Your screams might upset the neighbors, though."
He chuckled a little. I wasn't sure whether or not he was joking. The scary thing was that even though I knew he'd probably kill me if he tried it, I realized that I would let him do whatever he wanted. He had that effect on me. Fortunately, he decided that I was ready for his dick at that point and lifted my legs up onto his shoulders. He had somehow managed to get a condom onto his huge rod and stroked it with his lubed hand. Then he placed the head at my stretched pucker and pushed.
Nothing happened for a few seconds and then I felt him entering me. The four fingers hadn't been near enough. It felt like he was shoving a baseball bat up my ass. I gasped and looked up at him, trying to let him know it wasn't working for me. He just looked down and smiled and continued to push. He kept going in, splitting me in two. Sliding in he felt like he was a foot and a half long. It just kept going. Finally, he hit bottom and stopped. He waited a moment for me to adjust. I was thinking it might take a few hours to adjust to the telephone pole buried in my ass. He reached down and started playing with my cock, which had gone soft during his penetration. I must not have been feeling too bad because I started to get hard right away. When he felt that he leaned forward, pushing my knees toward my chest and raising my ass into the air. He slowly pulled almost all the way out, then without warning slammed back in. He repeated that movement several times, leaving me grunting and gasping with each thrust.
He soon developed a steady rhythm, pistoning in and out of my hole. I still felt like I was so stretched that any more would rip me apart. I'd never felt so full in my life. But as he continued fucking I began to relax and the pain gradually went away. I turned my head and saw our reflection in the mirror, this hot little dark muscle man pounding away at a pale slim white guy, an enormous thick black pole disappearing into a tight pink hole. I remember thinking there ought to be a video camera there recording the scene, zooming in for a close-up of the incredible penetration. He was hitting my prostate with each thrust and that, combined with his hand stroking my cock brought me to the edge. I began to shoot my load. The first stream hit me in the face. The rest covered my chest and abdomen. I don't think I'd ever cum that much. As my dick began to soften he let go of it.
And still he kept fucking my ass. He was really pounding me and showed no sign that he was near orgasm. He continued to massage my prostate with his rod and after a while I started getting hard again. He looked down into my eyes and smiled as he kept shoving that pole deep into me. I scooped up some of the cum on my belly for lube and grabbed my dick and started stroking it. Soon I realized I was going to cum again. I didn't think I'd ever had two orgasms so close together but I'd never been fucked like that either. This time as I began to shoot and my ass ring clamped down on his dick, I felt him swell within me. He let out a yell as he fired shot after shot into my hole. With each shot he gave a hard thrust into me. At last he lowered my legs and collapsed on top of me.
We just lay there for a while trying to catch our breath. He licked some of my cum off my face and kissed me, sharing my juices with me. He gradually lost his erection and his dick slid out of my hole, leaving me feeling so empty. We lay there a little while with him pressed on top of me. Finally, I had to get up. I was sure if I didn't I would fall asleep and I did have to get home eventually.
We cleaned up and I got dressed. I noticed a shelf with several wrestling trophies on it. He'd just pinned me, but good. He remained naked, which drove me crazy. He stood there watching every move I made, absentmindedly playing with his nipples and balls. He had such a hot body and that dick of his never did get very soft. It just looked so massive hanging there between his legs. I couldn't take my eyes of it. I couldn't believe that had fit up my ass and I couldn't believe how good it had felt. I knew I would be standing on the train the rest of the way back to Harrison but I didn't mind.
We didn't talk much but as I was about to leave we exchanged cell phone numbers. He pulled me into a tight embrace and kissed me forcefully.
"Cum back anytime, Mike."
"You'd better believe I will. I think I'll be getting off at Grove Street again very soon."