(1975) I loved the smell of the old Greyhound bus station, something about the exhaust from all those busses. But my Ma didn’t seem to like it there much; she seemed kind of nervous. Maybe I am confusing her disdain of the filthy bus station with the trepidation she must have felt with sending me, her thirteen-year old boy, off to Texas for a month. I don't, but I did what I could to calm her, which meant doing what she said, promising to write and telling her how much I would miss her. Nearly thirty years later, I still wonder how she scraped-up the money for that bus ticket. Anyway, I got on the half-full bus and rode south out of St. Louis that evening with my poor mom on my mind, a backpack on my lap, and a window seat.
About three hours into my trip, the driver announced we would be stopping at the Poplar Bluff bus station. I closed my old dog-eared copy of The Fellowship of the Rings and looked out my window. I had never been to Poplar Bluff, and what I saw of it through my window didn’t imprint much on my memory – a small quiet town near the boot heel of Missouri.
The driver announced we could depart the bus, but it would be pulling out forty-five minutes later. The bus station was much smaller than St Louis’ was; it seemed older too. When I stepped from the bus with my back-pack slung over my shoulder, the driver reminded me when to re-board.
I found the men’s restroom. I peed and noticed an old coin operated machine on the wall that sold condoms. I had seventy-five cents but no need for a condom, though, according to the ad slogan, they were "guaranteed to please her". I had no HER either, but I sure wanted one. My oldest brother had a girlfriend; she was a dream! Looking around, exploring, I found a tiny gift shop, closed for the night. I peered inside, saw a magazine rack. They sold Playboys! Then a row of vending machines caught my attention, but I had to save my money, and I had food in my pack, so, leaving the vending area, I looked around for something interesting to do, someone to talk to. That's when I noticed her.
A pretty girl in a red dress sat not far from me. When I looked over at her, she smiled at me and gave me a little wave. Blushing, I waved back, straightening my shoulders, trying to look older, more cool.
She had a little backpack too, in her lap, and at her feet was a large old suitcase. I didn’t want to stare, and I didn’t have the nerve to approach her, so I kinda wandered off, peeking at her now and then.
Near the ticket counter, I found a giant map of the U.S. on the wall. I loved maps. It had little red dots showing where all the Greyhound bus stations were. I was trying to count them when a commotion started behind me.
"God dammit! You trying to rob me?" A big old guy hollered at the clerk behind the counter. He was wearing one of those wife-beater T-shirts; it was filthy, his gut protruding comically between the mismatched suspenders holding up his cut-off jeans. He was unshaven, and I swore I could smell his body odor over the fumes of the six busses parked outside. "That’s twice as much as it cost me to send her last year, you fuckin’ thief!"
I watched closely as the ticket-clerk stood up from his chair and explained to the redneck. "She was only twelve last year, that’s why it cost you less. She’s thirteen now, and we charge adult-fare for her." the clerk explained sternly. "I clearly recall having this argument last summer . . .sir."
"Thirteen my ass!" the redneck cried. He spun around and hollered, "Becky get your ass over here." I saw the girl in the red dress hop up from her seat and run over toward us. "Tell this ass-wipe how old you are."
"Thirteen, sir," little Becky replied. She looked over at me briefly. She seemed embarrassed, so I turned around and pretended to examine the big map.
"Fuck!" the redneck hollered. I heard little Becky cry out, so I spun around quickly enough to see the redneck picking her up by the scruff of her neck, holding her in front of the clerk’s ticket window. "Tell him how old you really are!"
"Twelve," she said meekly. "Really!" The redneck dropped her, and glared at the clerk. And, to my surprise, the clerk produced a bus ticket. "Daddy, that hurt."
"Shut the fuck up and get back to your seat," he hollered, handing her the ticket and putting his wallet back in his shorts. He gave me a quick glare, scaring me. I fled for the safety of the bus.
From my window seat I watched Becky, as she sat dejected in her seat. I hoped she was getting on this bus; maybe she would sit by me. I fogged up the window staring at her, watching her father berate her and finally lead her to my bus. I sat stiffly in my seat, praying she would sit close by. I pulled my backpack off the seat and set it on the floor, just incase by some miracle she wanted to sit there.
I saw her walking down the aisle, eyes downcast, her hands gripping her pack. She didn’t look at the open seat or me, just past by. My heart sank. As we pulled out of the station, I hopped up on my seat, looked toward the back of the bus, trying to spot her. She was sitting alone, all the way in the back, looking right at me. I plopped back down in my seat and considered joining her. She sure had looked sad.
Though no where on the scale of her’s, my own father could be an ass too; we had that in common and maybe we could talk about that. I fidgeted and squirmed in indecision. After several minutes, I was no closer to convincing myself she would want me to sit by her. I began to act it out, you know, like I was approaching her, saying hello to her, and began talking to her. I was animated, practicing my moves. I tried, sitting in my seat by the window, to look cool and calm. I waved at nothing, smiling like a champ.
I spun around in my seat. Becky was behind me, looking over the backs of the seats right at me!
"It looks like you’re talking to yourself," she continued, looking at me with concern. "Well?"
The truth might work, I thought. "I was. . ." I stammered. "I was practicing coming back and talking to you." She looked confused. "I wanted to look cool, you know. Not like a jerk or something. But I suppose I look pretty much like a jerk right now."
Her little blond head disappeared behind the seat. And then smiling, she appeared in the aisle beside my empty seat. She sat down in my empty seat!
"What’s your name?" she asked sweetly, her words heavy with a country accent.
"Dan," I answered holding out my hand to her. She took it. "You’re Becky?" She nodded, blushing a bit.
"I guess you heard my daddy raising hell back there."
"Sounded a bit like my dad," I said. "Becky, I know how embarrassing parents can be. My dad yells a lot, too."
She had pretty blue eyes and wore her hair braided in two pigtails, tied with red ribbons that matched her polka-dotted dress. We began a long discussion, sharing our family secrets, our pasts and our plans for the future. Little Becky could really talk. I mean a lot – talk and talk. She was full of stories! I looked into her blue eyes and her voice would blur as I daydreamed about having a girlfriend like her. Although I didn’t live in Poplar Bluff, I imagined that, if Becky was my girlfriend, we could go to Six Flags together, ride one of those dark rides!
"I said watcha reading there," Becky said. I snapped out of my daydreaming, blinking and embarrassed. I told her about my book. It was my second time reading it. I started telling her a little bit about the Lord of the Rings trilogy, but a glazed, uninterested look came over her.
"You’re nice, Dan," she said, interrupting me. "Let’s play a game."
"We have to go back to my seat, across the bus, so we can see the cars."
I didn’t really know what she meant, but I grabbed my pack and eagerly followed her to the back of the bus. We reached her seats, she told me to sit by her window, and when she sat down, she was right next to me! I felt a little uncomfortable, never really having been that close to a girl . As she explained the game, I got an aching feeling in my pants.
"We watch for cars with only one head light!" Well it sounded easy enough. But I didn’t see much point in it. My confusion must have shown, because she continued, "And . . . when we see one . . . " she paused, allowing the suspense to build, "you can kiss me." Wow! She studied me closely. "You know how to kiss, right?" I nodded, though I had never kissed a girl. "Good." I figured that I could figure it out on the fly. The traffic was pretty heavy across the interstate, being the weekend, travelers and all. "Have you played this game before?"
I shook my head.
She said, "I have, but not with these rules."
I was watching out the window, pretty anxious, kinda scared. "How many girls have you kissed, Dan?" I looked over at her. I wondered how many girls I should have kissed at my age. What was the proper amount, dammit? "You haven’t kissed any girls, have you?" I shook my head, shamed. "That’s alright Dan. I’m sure you’ll be a good kisser. You do want to kiss me, don’t you?" I nodded emphatically. "Well. . . watch then! Watch out there." She pointed across the interstate. She snuggled up closer to me. "I’ll help you watch, we’ll make sure nothing gets by."
I really liked her southern accent, and the way she smelled too. It was nice having her so close to me, the bus ride was getting a lot more interesting, certainly more fun than reading Tolkien. Then I saw a vehicle with only one headlight! Suddenly I found myself hoping it was a motorcycle, then I hoped it wasn’t, and then . . .
"There Danny There!" she cried, pointing to the car I had seen.
I looked over at her, nervous as can be. I felt her hand cover mine; it was warm, a little moist, so I thought she might be nervous too, which made it a little easier. I squeezed my eyes shut, pressed my lips together, leaned toward her, and gave her a kiss right on her chin. Oops. I tried again, quickly readjusting my aim and finding her lips. We kissed, and held hands. Dude, do I have to tell you how hard my little pecker was? No. I bet I don’t. We kissed for several long seconds, before she pulled away.
"That was pretty good Dan," she said. I smiled from ear to ear. "We don’t want to miss the next one, do we?"
I shook my head, and she pointed out the window. This was a great game! She was pressed very close to me now; so friendly. My attention was divided between the oncoming traffic and her little hand, her fingers entwined with mine. Then another one-headlight car passed, which I proudly pointed out, turning to receive my prize. She was ready and waiting, so I leaned forward, keeping my eyes open a just a little longer this time, and kissed her again.
"Much better, Dan," Becky said with encouragement, making me proud. I opened my eyes while I was kissing her and her eyes were open too! When our gazes met, she began to kiss me very hard and pushed her tight body hard against mine, shoving me against the window. I loved that; she seemed so eager and happy to be kissing me. Soon I was watching for more one-lighted cars, my breath fogging the window, Becky’s hand holding mine tightly. We found another car, and another and another. Before long, I was a kissing machine, making Becky very happy. She said so!
"I like it when you kiss me, Dan," she said sweetly into my ear. Her breath felt funny on me there, made me tingly. But the magic was soon broken; the bus driver announced another stop. Becky was soon talking away again, telling me about her cat and dog, as we rode through another sleepy town in the boot-heel of Missouri.
She was nestled closely to me, but when the bus came to a stop in the tiny station, wondering what we would do now, I was hoping and praying that this wasn’t her stop. I wanted to take a walk with Becky, or sit right here with her. I just didn’t know what was going to happen. Becky had it all figured out though.
"C’mon Dan!" She said hopping out of her seat, holding out her hand. I eagerly took it, stood and followed her up the aisle, adjusting my little pecker in my pants. We hopped off the bus, and explored all over. I bought us an Orange Crush to share. She seemed to love it, so I insisted she hold on to it. I found another map and showed her where I lived. She asked where I was going. I pointed it out on the map.
"Wow, way down there," she said in awe. She pointed at Houston. "I get off here, the day after tomorrow." My heart leapt at the thought of spending so much time with her.
When the bus driver hollered, I grabbed Becky’s hand and we ran back to the bus. I let her have the window seat this time, and pulled some chips out of my pack and shared them with her. When we got back on the interstate, we resumed our game. Now, while we stared out the window, I practice kissing her neck. She wiggled with delight when I put my tongue in her ear, and shivered when I nibbled on her earlobe.
"That feels so good, Dan." While I held her one hand, she placed her other on my leg and rubbed it some when I made her feel especially good. She would speak out when she saw a car with only one light and we would kiss, now with our mouths open, for a long, long time. Some cars may have gotten by us. And then I felt her tongue slip into my mouth. I loved that, her little tongue playing with mine. We hardly stopped kissing at all. Our corner in the back of the bus was dark and deserted. We were left alone. My hands began to roam her little body while we kissed. I explored her without the slightest resistance.
When we finally stopped kissing for a moment, catching our breaths, she told me something astounding. "I have little boobs, Dan." She said quietly. I looked down at her chest, seeing her two small boobs pressed against her dress. I was in awe of this girl and she giggled a little at me. "You can feel them," she said. "If you want to, that is, I’ll let you touch them for a little while."
I did! Yeah! I nodded. She took my hand and placed it on her chest. I massaged her little boobs with wonder, feeling and pinching her little nipples, hardly noticing her hand moving slowly up my leg. I jumped when it reached my lap and gasped.
"Your little cock is hard, Dan," she said. Feeling ashamed, I nodded my head. She looked at me with some sympathy in her eyes, and rose from her seat. She reached above us, into an overhead bin, and removed a little blue blanket and two pillows. I put the pillows in the corner by her window, so she could lean back against them, and she spread the blanket over us. I felt so evil! When she sat down, she leaned back against her pillows with a thankful smile. Then she sat up again, and turned her back to me.
"Unbutton my dress Dan," she ordered.
I fumbled with several buttons, until her dress fell open far enough for me to make out the top of her little ass. She wore no bra, thankfully, that would have slowed us down. She lay back in her seat again, and pulled the blanket up under her chin. I watched her wiggle around as she smiled at me wickedly. Soon, I could make out her hands moving under the blanket near her lap. Then she spread the blanket over my lap and reached for my hand. I felt under the blanket. She had slid her dress down to her waist! She let my hands wander over her little belly button, and to her breasts, all the while looking into my eyes. I could tell she liked the feel of my hands, from the sounds she was making, little ews and ahs. Her small breasts were less than a handful, but rounded and firm. She liked it when I touched them lightly, and she liked it when I squeezed them, too. She especially liked it when I tugged on her nipples, I could tell because she kissed me hard when I did, and her hand traveled back to my lap. And on my lap, her little fingernails began to tickle and lightly scratch my cock through pants!
"Oh Becky," I moaned, breaking our kiss. She smiled at me knowingly, and found my zipper.
"Can I take it out and play with it, Dan?" She asked. Yes, please! While she unzipped my shorts, I unfastened my belt. The blanket had slipped off my lap, so I saw her hand disappear beneath my underwear. I thought her little fingers were full of magic when she wrapped them around my cock.
"Becky," I groaned. She giggled in glee at my excitement, her hand beginning to pump me up and down.
"Does that feel good, Danny?" she asked, kissing my ear. She shifted even closer to me and the blanket slipped down her front, exposing her tiny tits to me which were suddenly illuminated by the lights of a passing semi. I stared at them in wonder and felt her other hand gently grab my balls. "Oh you look so excited. I’m glad you feel so good."
Watching her tits, feeling her hands, I was lost, my legs twitching. It all felt so natural when she cooed in my ear, she was my friend and she was pleasing me with her hand pumping my cock. "Oh boy, Dan, your sure are hard!" Her hand was flying up and down, while her other hand cupped my balls, squeezing them lightly. She giggled softly into my ear wheni started to thrust my hips up and down; an odd feeling was quickly overcoming me. Our eyes met, and she comprehended my state.
"Squirt it out Danny, it’ll feel so good, squirt, squirt." She knew! She knew the feeling that was rushing through me like a big fast wave! My sperm began to fly into the air, falling onto the blanket, my chest, and her hand. "Danny, oh Danny!" she giggled with glee. Her hands grew slick with fluids, sliding up and down my shaft, coaxing my balls; I was in heaven. Finally, I stopped coming. My cock grew very sensitive; her pumping causing me to twist around in my seat. "Oh!" she cried. "Mm." I felt feint as she pulled her hands off me, and began rubbing my tummy and leg. She was so sweet.
"Becky," I admitted. "That was the best thing ever!" She smiled at me sweetly.
"I think you should pull that blanket up, Danny, and cover yourself," she said looking down at my cock. "Maybe you should slip your shorts and underwear off. You’ll be a lot more comfortable, wouldn’t you?" I hadn’t considered that! I hesitated, thinking of the trouble that we could get in if discovered in such disarray. "It’s ok," she promised. "We have a blanket." I leaned over and looked up the long aisle. It seemed very quiet, peaceful on our bus. Looking back at her, I was indecisive.
"I’ll take my little panties off if you do." I set a land-speed record for undressing, pulling the blanket quickly over my lap. Becky gave me a loving smile, and leaned over, laying her head on my lap, looking up at me with an evil grin. She sat up, though, holding my shorts and underwear. She folded them neatly and slid them under her seat. "We don’t want you to get them all wrinkled or have your wallet fall out," she explained. She put her arms under the blanket and began to slide her undies off. She showed them to me, smiling, before she put them with my shorts. "There!"
"Have you ever felt a girl down there, Danny?" she asked me shyly.
"No," I admitted. "You’re the first girl I’ve ever kissed. Your boobs are the first I’ve ever touched." This seemed to please her, make her proud.
"Would you like to touch me down there?" she asked kindly.
"I don’t know what to do really," I confessed. "Yes though, but I hope I don’t..."
"You’ll be just fine. You learned how to kiss so well," she explained. She held my hand, leading it slowly between her legs. She was very wet down there. I was surprised. "It’s cause I am excited, I didn’t pee or nothing." I felt relieved as my hand roamed between her warm thighs.
"Oh. . . see. . . right there," she moaned. I snuggled real close to her, and began to kiss her gently as I slowly learned how to please her. After a minute of fumbling around, I managed to insert a finger into her. It was really tight where my finger went, and soft. And wet. And hot! Suddenly her tongue was dancing wildly in my mouth, I was rubbing her just right. I felt a little nub just above where I was sliding my finger in and out of her, my finger was brushing against it with each thrust. She began to squeal with delight. Her legs clamped tight around my hand but I kept fingering her and rubbing that little nub. My pinky dipped below her little wet pussy, sliding between her ass cheeks and touching her little asshole. Oops! I thought that I really screwed-up but she suddenly pulled her legs up, her arms wrapping around my head.
"Oh yes! Touch it again, slide it in," she moaned. I thought it was kinda weird, but I really wanted to please her, whatever it took. It was tough on my wrist, trying to work my pinky into her ass, so I used my other hand to rub her little nub, while I violated her little holes. Her butt hole was just as warm as her pussy, maybe a little tighter! She was wiggling and moaning like mad, no way I could try to kiss her then, so I just watched, the blanket having slipped off her in her excitement. I was working several fingers into her now, and Becky suddenly started to shiver, and a few moments later grabbed my hands, still shaking. I stopped what I was doing, recalling how sensitive I got right after I had squirted. She was breathing in big gulps of air, her body had gotten kinda sweaty, it glistened when headlights shown through our window. I thought she was the prettiest thing I ever saw!
She told me I made her feel Real good. Real good.
"You’re so nice and gentle with me Dan, so sweet, I’m so glad to be with you." She slid her nearly naked body next to mine. She was so soft everywhere I touched her. I leaned back and she lay her head on my lap. I pulled the blanket over her shoulder and hips, covering her and slid my hands underneath so I could fondle her boobs. She was letting me do the naughtiest things! Things I had never ever imagined doing. My little pecker was growing hard again, and made a little teepee right in front of her face as I was feeling her soft skin. She lifted her head a bit and slid the blanket off my lap, and lay her head back down looking at my little cock.
"I’m going to make you squirt again, Danny." As I ran my fingers through her hair, I felt something real wet sucking on the head of my prick. She took me into her mouth! I felt her little tongue massaging me. "Mm," she moaned. It made me tingle when she did that. Slowly, she took more and more of me into her mouth, while cupping my balls with her hand.
Our bus pulled off the interstate as she gripped the base of my cock with her other hand, and slowly pumped it up and down while sucking on me. She was getting spit all over me and it felt great, slippery like. She wasn’t grossed out or anything, and those noises she made convinced me she was happy to be pleasing me again. She was slurping and humming sweetly, jacking me off and fondling my balls, which were getting wetter with her spit.
Her head started bobbing up and down as she took more and more of me into her mouth, until I felt It hit the back of her mouth and slip a bit down her throat. It would have made me gag! But not Becky. Nope, she just sucked real hard then, like she was drinking a thick shake through a thin straw. Sucking. Moaning. Rubbing my balls. It made me get that feeling again. It came on me faster this time, much more powerful. I told her. I warned her I was gonna squirt again, but she was so happy to be pleasing me, she kept sucking and sucking, my cock pretty deep down her throat. I squirted and squirted, my hips lifting us both nearly out of our seats. She was squealing with delight, with my cock in her mouth, as I squirted and squirted, she sounded so pleased. When I regained my senses, our bus was pulling into a dark bus station. I heard the front doors of the bus hiss open, and I saw a passenger and the driver get off.