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As Jameth entered the train, he took a deep breath. The air conditioner was not working again and he could smell the crisp smell of indian food and perspiration.

"I'm gonna fuck this train," he nodded to himself, sitting down for his ride. The trip from San Francisco to San Jose took almost an hour, but as aroused as he was, it felt like days. He could feel himself getting more and more excited, dreaming of the hot metal, the chugging of the train as it entered him and the station. As soon as he arrived at San Jose, he exited the train and laid down on the tracks. "I DO WHAT I WANT!" he shouted loudly, as he pulled down his pants. He heard the train gasp mechanically as it saw his throbbing manhood. Taking out his cell phone, he quickly blogged what was happening, then presented himself to the train, goatse style. The train was moist in anticipation.

"That's right baby, blow my whistle," James mumbled to himself. The train slowly approached him, and James let out a moan of excitement. Then, before he knew it, the train had entered him. Jameth exploded in pleasure as the train backed up, then entered him again, then back and forth, pulsing and pushing until they climaxed together, and an explosion of cum and grease covered the diridion.

James pulled his pants up and sat next to the train, leaning on it. He offered it a cigarette, then lit up for himself. "I hope that was as good for you as it was for me," Jameth panted.
Ohm nom nom! I love man juice!

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