[Fiction] My Crazy Life: High School Field Trip

[Duckers]

“What's going on with you and Dana?” He was still looking at my dick. Funny how everyone seemed to like looking at it today. So far though, Dana was the only one who I hadn't minded looking. And why the hell did he want to have a conversation while pissing?

“Vicki and Dave didn't show, so we're going to ride together. And why the fuck are you staring at my dick?” No, I wasn't shouting at him, but there was some definite emphasis added to that last question.

Pete's eyes went wide. “Sorry man.” He turned back to his business at hand, but then turned back to me. “There's this guy on my bus... Fuck! I've never seen anything like that before.”

“Oh yeah, you are on Horse Dick's bus,” I muttered. I didn't really feel as bad now. That guy could mess with anyone's head.

“Horse Dick,” Pete snorted. “That's about right.”

The stream finally dried up. Which was a good thing seeing that I was starting to get concerned that I might not be able to stop. I glanced over to find that Pete was watching again. “Seriously Pete, do you need another good look before I put it away.”

“Fuck that!” I'm glad that Pete looked mildly disgusted. Hopefully with himself.

“As long as you don't really want to, then we're cool.” I put everything away, zipped up, flushed, and headed to the sink.

With that dumb ass standing so far from the urinal, it was hard to keep from noticing what he was doing now. Dave had another saying for bathroom behavior, and it went something like: “More than three yanks is a wank.” So if I held Pete to Dave's standard here, it would mean that he wasn't just a wanker but he was fucking beating off in the rest room. Shit, was he really trying to blow his load or did he have a few drops of piss hiding in there somewhere?

At the sink, I washed my hands. If I thought it would have helped, I would have scrubbed my eyes to try to remove some of what I had seen this morning. Well, as long as it wouldn't mean scrubbing out Dana. Hrmm, scrubbing out Dana.... that sounds somewhat erotic.

I was happy to note that Pete was finally satisfied with the state of his pecker and had put it away. He stepped up to the sink and started combing his hair. I noticed in the mirror that you could still tell where he'd gotten ketchup on his jeans. “Hey, keep an eye on Missy.” He was grinning idiotically at me again.

“Huh?” Was he going somewhere or something.

“She bought a coffee to drink. Just watch her.” More grinning. He walked out of the restroom proudly smelling his fingers again.

I finished washing my hands and pulled a few paper towels to dry them with. The whole time I was muttering about Pete's lack of hygiene. He was now on my “no hand shaking” list. No clue how I keep all my lists straight.

When I stepped out of the restroom, the first thing that I noticed was how the place had suddenly gotten busy. Mostly other students from the trip too. I like to think that I'm the sharpest tool in the shed, but apparently a lot more people wised up and decided to skip standing in a huge line for now. I had to swerve around a lot of people and nodded to calls of “Duckers!” and “Duckman!”. That's the problem with having a stupid-ass nickname; everyone wants to say it. Although I'd rather be known for my nickname than for my rumored attraction to goats like poor Tommy.

At the table, Pete was already settled back in and was holding his sandwich in one of his unwashed hands, which was also the one that smelled like coochie. Probably had some nice, clean urine scent to go along with it. Missy was sitting across from him blowing on her coffee. So, she had coffee. Big deal. She was also nodding and listening to something that Dana was saying. Maybe it was just me, but I swear Dana looked like she was more relaxed than normal.

Dana saw me coming. She took a drink from her juice, but I saw her smile at me from around her straw. After looking at her so long on the darkened bus, she looked absolutely radiant sitting under the lights. Her hair, her cheeks, her lips, even her clothes. It was like watching the Wizard of Oz when It switched from black and white to color. The difference was astounding. And maybe there was something more to it. Maybe I was letting myself truly see her for the first time, and it wasn't only my eyes that were doing the looking.

As I had noticed all of this, somehow I had managed not to stop and stare. I guess my feet had a mind of their own because my brain was pretty well stunned. I smiled back.

When I sat back down, Dana's leg found mine again almost instantly. Her leg was delightfully smooth against mine. You know, I'm not really sure how I could feel the smoothness of her leg through the hairiness of mine, but I could. Maybe the hairs all serve as little feelers. Ewww.. that's kinda creepy.

I unwrapped one of my sandwiches and considered my hash browns. “Why exactly do they call this hash browns? It looks like a Brillo pad crossed with a fish fillet.” That was something that always bugged me. I like hash browns, but I've never been a fan of eating them in their brick form that fast food joints seemed fond of. I guess Burger King didn't like their shape either, because I think they look more like goat pellets now.

Missy stopped sipping her coffee for a moment to say, “It's so they can clean your insides while you eat them.”

I snorted, and Dana was trying not to grin behind her napkin. Pete's contribution was a grunt, but he seemed more interested in his sandwich than anything else.

I took a bite out of the brick. “Maybe. I'll eat it, but I won't be happy about it.” As it turned out, I was happier about eating it than I thought. After the events that Dana and I shared on the bus ride thus far, I should have been in a good mood. Instead I was getting grumpy. Eating breakfast ended up being just what the doctor ordered.

While Glancing down at the slab of hash browns with a bite missing, a new thought struck me. It's a french fry turd! I couldn't help chuckling.

Dana raised her eyebrows, so I shook my head and said, “It's surprisingly good. That or I'm just surprisingly hungry.” I wanted to mention my revelation that it looked like a french fry turd, but I've found over the years that most people don't appreciate that type of discussion while eating. Especially when they are trying to choke down french fry turds of their own. I took a big hit of pop to wash mine down.

Missy had an odd way of eating breakfast. Most people seem to spend most of their time eating then wash everything down occasionally with their drink, but she seemed to be drinking her coffee and washing it down with a bite of her breakfast. If she was already that addicted to coffee, I felt sorry for her. And this coming from the guy who was drinking a pop with breakfast. Caffeine rules!

Maybe she was just cold. She did have her jacket zipped up still. Heck, even Dana seemed to have warmed up and wasn't as concerned about her shirt now. Not that she was going to take her outer shirt off in here with just her tank top on under it.

Pete stood up and headed for the counter. I glanced over at his food, which isn't as bad as how he was glancing at me in the bathroom, and I noticed that he seemed about half done with his food. I guess he forgot something.

I inhaled the last bit of my first sandwich and began unwrapping the second. Dana arched her eyebrow at me.

“What? I'm hungry.” I tried to pout. It probably would have been better if I had finished chewing up the first sandwich before opening the new one.

“At least you unwrapped it first.” She took a dainty bite of her own sandwich.

“Well, I don't need that much more fiber in my diet.”

Missy was starting to look flushed. Was she getting sick or something? So I asked, “Missy, are you feeling okay?” I kept my voice low. Dana glanced over at her, but then turned back to her food. That was passingly strange. I guess Dana had been more hungry than I thought because normally she's in Mother Hen mode. Especially when someone mentions being sick.

“I'm fine.” She replied, but I noticed a bead of sweat running down her forehead. “I got cold this morning, so I'm just trying to warm up.”

“You seem to be winning that battle,” I told her. Her only reply was to smile at me and then drink more coffee. Dana smiled at me, but didn't look at Missy.

James was suddenly crouching next to me. “Hey Duck, can you help a guy out?” He was holding out his hand.

At my school, we had a guy who was our very own version of Wimpy from Popeye. You know, the guy who always tries to bum something. Wimpy's favorite line seemed to be, "I'd gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today.” Well, James was that guy. Not to get him confused with Jimmy from earlier, but James always seemed to need some money. The constant begging didn't seem to bother him in the least, but I always felt bad for the guy. Everyone laughed at him about it, but he just laughed along with them and kept asking for money. I don't have a clue about what happened to him after graduation, but I figure things played out either in one of two ways. Either he was killed by a loan shark, or he became a Wall Street tycoon.

Anyway, James was bumming some change to buy breakfast with. I passed him whatever I had in my pocket.

He shook the coins in his hand quickly, and you could tell that he was doing some amazingly-fast mental math. “You, my friend, are a saint among men,” he informed me as he moved on.

Saint Duck. That's me.

Evidently Pete had seen James already, and he just passed over his change without saying a word about it. That was one of the things that I did like about Pete; he didn't give James any grief at all. Heck, he was pretty generous to most people even when he was being an asshole to them.

Pete's contribution must have put James above the magic breakfast number, because he headed towards the counter. I hoped that James washes his hands before eating, or he'd get the extra triple treat of tasting Missy's pussy, Pete's pecker, and also Pete's piss.

Pete looked like he was trying to keep from grinning as he sat back down and placed another coffee in front of Missy.

“Why thank you,” she said, but it didn't take a magnifying glass to be able to read between those lines. Something was up. The fact that she had glared at him told me that much.

Pete shot me a wink. Yeah, something definitely was up.

Dana drummed up some small talk by asking if I had heard of a show called Northern Exposure. I hadn't at the time, though I became a fan of it later. She related what little she knew of the show and that it was supposed to start that summer. That a show would start in the middle of the summer seemed odd to me, but then a lot of things seemed odd to me. The premise for the show sounded interesting, which I told her. The conversation then moved to speculation about the season finales for current TV shows.

I didn't really watch a lot of TV at the time, but I knew enough to keep up my side of the discussion. Missy watched many of the same shows as Dana, which caused the conversation to move out of my realm of knowledge. Missy dabbed at her forehead with her sleeve, then unzipped the jacket slightly. Without causing any lulls in the conversation, she finished her first cup and started pounding down the second.

As much as I hated to do it, I tried to engage Pete in some small talk. Normally, Pete isn't too bad to talk to, but he'd been an ass too often this morning. I brought up sports. It was one of those safe guy topics, but it turned out that Pete was more interested in hunting and fishing. I preferred fishing to hunting, but I went hunting from time to time. I never tried to shoot anything except for a few menacing tin cans. I love to romp around in the woods, but I'd rather enjoy looking at nature than killing it. It turned out that Pete felt that way too. He only killed animals that he would eat, which earned him a little respect in my book.

With a curious glance at Missy, Pete left again. What the hell, people?

I finished eating and sat there nursing my pop. I couldn't remember Mrs. D mentioning a bathroom stop for later, so I didn't want to drink too much before we reached the park. Apparently my 17 year-old self and I differ about what “too much” is. He felt safe drinking a 32oz soda. I bet you can figure out how good of an idea that is, right?

At any rate, the caffeine from the pop had worked its magic, and I was happy to note that my headache had faded away into the realm of unpleasant memories. I stretched over the back of the chair letting my back pop and noticed that Mr. Thompson was still out in the parking lot.

He had a sandwich in one hand and the proton pack in the other showing it to one of the other chaperones. What in the blue hell was that thing? Maybe the other guy was going to strap it on and start blasting things. Or maybe Mr. Thompson was explaining how best to pleasure someone with it. The thing was either the coolest thing I had ever seen or one of the strangest. Jury was still out on that.

Missy and Dana were now talking about people that they had known in grade school. Whenever it seemed helpful, I chimed in with a tidbit that I knew about them. Most of the time, I just remained silent and absorbed the information. Dana wasn't looking directly at Missy a whole lot during their conversation. And yes, that was pretty odd too.

More beads of sweat were now standing out on Missy's forehead, and she was still flushed. She glanced towards Pete who was at the counter again, then she unzipped her jacket a bit more. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing a t-shirt. Well, maybe one of those types that has a huge V-neck. What the fuck was going on?

[Acepilot1023]

Man, I haven't been on in a while, but after catching up, I cant wait for the next installment! Whats going to happen???

[Duckers]

Hrmmm, should I give a spoiler?

Spoiler:

It ends painfully.

Okay, so it wasn't much of a spoiler.

[Duckers]

It was a lot easier to just pay attention to Dana than try to figure out what was going on. Dana rubbed her leg against mine again, and I rubbed back. We exchanged sly smiles, and Missy began to smile too. Awww, hell. I guess we were more obvious than I thought, or she was just more perceptive. Definitely more perspire-ative (I guess that's not a word). Was the coffee really that hot?

“So, Duckers,” Missy began, “are you dating anyone... right now?” Damned if she didn't unzip her jacket a bit more while she was asking that. Dana had been looking at me and hadn't noticed. Hrmm, I don't think her shirt could have been a v-neck. Maybe a tank top?

Was Missy trying to hit on me? Pete is kinda annoying, but he's generally alright. Especially when he's not acting childish or staring at my junk in the rest room. I wouldn't make a move on his girlfriend. Not now that Dana was in the picture, at least. Nah, I wouldn't have tried to steal Pete's girlfriend even then.

Missy was smiling as she waited for my answer. I tried to be smooth and take a sneaky glance down at her jacket, but I wasn't all that smooth. She saw that I had seen, and it made her smile even bigger. She leaned forward a bit and asked, “Well?” I barely paid attention because I had realized something. Either Missy was wearing a very, very skimpy tank top under that jacket or nothing at all. When her smile became more of a grin, I placed my bets on nothing at all.

“Why do you ask? Is Pete not working out?” I grinned back. I rubbed against Dana's leg again, hoping that she wouldn't be mad that I was... well, I guess it sounded like I was flirting with Missy. Maybe playful banter is a better way to put it. I looked around, but the way our seats were situated left Missy hidden from most of the people in the restaurant. Heck, Dana was more or less hidden too, so Missy could have been invisible.

“Pete's... well, Pete is Pete.” And as cryptic as she tried to make that sound it really was a good answer. I can't really describe him much better. “What about you?”

I almost sighed, but Dana definitely would have taken that the wrong way. The sigh was totally related to sharing the information with Missy. Instead I smiled, looked Dana in the eyes, and said, “I'm on a date right now.” Dana blushed a little, but she looked happy. Heck, she absolutely beamed.

“Oh. Is that something new?” Missy unzipped the jacket a bit more and then started fanning it. Uhh, yeah. Let's see. What could Missy be wearing under that jacket? Maybe she had a top that was made out of pieces of electrical tape that crossed over her nipples. That's about the only top that I could imagine that would work in this scenario.

“Yep, just this morning, in fact.” I smiled at Dana.

Alright already, this felt like a good place to call a mental time-out and try to sort out what the fuck was going on here. At this point, I'm trying very hard not to pay too much attention to Missy. Beyond what is polite at least. Sure, I had noticed her jacket situation. I would have to be fucking blind not to, but this is getting strange. Don't get me wrong, because I have nothing against seeing a nice pair of hooters. From what I had seen thus far, Missy appeared to have a nicer set than I had ever imagined.

“Oh really?” Missy purred, “Are you sure that you two didn't know that Dave and Vicki wouldn't make it?”

That last tug had put her zipper down to where it was resting level with the lower slopes of her breasts. Keep in mind that the jacket was way to big on her, so it was flared open quite a bit exposing most of her upper breasts. She had a small scar on the right breast, which reminded me of what scratching the Chicken Pox leaves. Once I noticed the scar, I found it hard to not look at it.

With effort, I managed to drag my eyes away from Missy's chest. “It's just been a happy coincidence.”

Missy didn't seem satisfied with that answer. “Do you mean that you had never thought of dating Dana before?” Missy glanced at Dana, but Dana was sipping more juice and trying not to pay attention.

Okay, now why was Missy assaulting me both mentally with her questions about Dana and me and visually with her jacket problems?

The truth seemed like the best answer, but I wish that I could have come up with something a bit more witty. “I'd always seen Dana as just a friend,” I said. She was paying attention to me now. “But... something's changed this morning and let me see her as more than just a friend.”

I could still be polite in this situation with Missy. I wouldn't mind to politely help her with the zipper on her jacket and then politely admire her breasts. I could even politely peel any electrical tape that happened to be stuck to her nipples. Sure, I'm the world's most polite person. Not sure what Dana or Pete would have to say about that though.

[Acepilot1023]

AHH!!! You always leave me hanging! sheesh... like to create suspense dontcha?

[Duckers]

Ugg, what was I thinking? I wasn't going to do anything like that. Cheating on people wasn't cool, and I tried my best not to cheat. I certainly wouldn't do that to Dana. Trying to make myself believe that was far harder than it should have been.

Speaking of Dana, why the hell hadn't she noticed what Missy was doing? Or if she had why was she sitting there so calmly? Was she so happy to be on a date that she was oblivious to anything else that was going on? If it had been someone else, I might have bought that. Not with Dana though. Honestly, I figured that Dana would be trying to protect me somewhat from strange girls, although I guess I didn't protect her very well from the sight of Horse Dick earlier.

Maybe I should make some excuse to leave the table. Numerous excuses came to mind, and none of them sounded particularly suspicious. I could easily find someone to shoot the bull with for a few minutes. Maybe I could go order something else to eat, but I knew this was enough to fill me up. Perhaps Dana needed something else. I opened my mouth to ask her when she beat me to the punch. “Excuse me, I'll be right back.” And Dana was headed towards the ladies room. Had she glanced at Missy before she left?

With a quick look towards the counter, I noticed that Pete was sipping at a coffee of his own while talking to a couple guys by the counter. His eyes flickered toward me from across his cup. When he lowered it, he was grinning. Well, at least he wasn't trying to look at my crotch. Then he nodded slightly. What in the name of Sam Hill was going on here? What was he expecting me to do with his girlfriend for fuck's sake?

And so here I was sitting across the table from Missy, who apparently had issues with her jacket. I was having issues of my own. Namely, my dick had noticed the situation and was a fan of Missy's issues. It was trying to stand up in order to get a better look, but I was trying to keep that from happening. Nothing interesting to say came to mind. Well, plenty of things came to mind, but none of them didn't involve her jacket, so I tried to look anywhere else but at Missy. I failed horribly and ended up looking at her jacket or her scar almost continuously.

Missy was aware of my attention, but she seemed thrilled and even a bit nervous about it. To me, the fact that she was nervous seemed more appropriate than her being thrilled. I wasn't thrilled with the situation. Well, I was but I was also a bit nervous. Oh fuck me now and call it a day! I'm sure Tommy had an easier time with the goats than this. Maybe he was on to something?

I wondered if I should start a rumor that I liked to fuck goats too. Nah, that wasn't original enough. Maybe sheep could be my thing. Sure, people made fun of Tommy all the time, but they left him alone other than that. I just about opened my mouth to inform Missy that I liked to bang sheep, but a new mental image crept up on me. For some reason, I imagined a huge Etch-a-Sketch in my mind where a very detailed picture of me trying to mount a sheep was being drawn. Fuck that! I gave the Etch-a-Sketch a good shaking to erase that picture. Yuck!

About the time when the silence between Missy's half-bare chest and myself became unbearable, she accidentally knocked her empty coffee cup over. How did I know that she had knocked it over accidentally? Good question.

“Ooops, I accidentally knocked over my coffee cup,” Missy said. Well, that was how I had known. I should also point out that Missy seems to have some of Pete's flair for stating the obvious.

And of course being the gentleman that I am, I was on my feet and picking up the cup before I realized that I had even gotten up. Missy had also leaned over to pick up the cup which was on her side of the table, but I have been superhumanly fast to jump up, go around the table, and pick it up before she could even bend over. I didn't really think anything of it at the time. Honestly, I noticed how a trickle of coffee had splattered onto the floor making a pattern that reminded me of a bird's feather.

“Let me get that for you....” And I mentally finished that sentence with “your tits”. Why? Because as I started to stand back up, I found myself staring directly at both of her bare breasts. She still had the jacket on, but the act of bending over had allowed her boobs to make their great escape. If my life had sound effects, there escape would have been accompanied by, “Bow-wang!”

“Oh, thank you, Duck,” she said as she graciously accepted the coffee cup from me. She made no move to recapture the escaped boobs. Hell, she acted like she didn't even notice that the girls had come out to play.

For my part, I remained there caught in a half-crouch, and I told her tits, “That's alright. Don't mention it.” I don't know if my voice sounded shocked, amazed, or pretty much normal. She just held still letting me admire her chest. She wasn't in Dana's league, but for her height they were very impressive, and she already had some faint tan lines. There was also what looked like a hickey just to the outside of one of her nipples, which I'm sure was Pete's doing. The hickey was close enough in color to her nipples that it made that one look oddly shaped.

I wanted to take a quick look around to see if anyone else was seeing this, but I didn't want to look away either. Hell, I felt an almost irresistible urge to do more than look at her perky breasts. Even though I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Missy's breasts were covered in dried Pete slobber, I felt a physical need to put a matching hickey beside her other nipple. Something that I had heard once came back to me then, “Let's be honest. Nipples were made to be sucked.” Dammit, that was so true right then. I didn't care in the least that we were in the middle of a Burger King. I could almost imagine the words “Suck me” written over each nipple.

From this close, I could also see more signs that she was sweating, and that probably saved me. Beads of sweat stood out between her breasts, and even as I watched one trickled down out of sight. It was neat how one droplet had run into another and another making a chain. A chain. Of connections. Bam! Missy was connected to Dana by grade school. Dana... Dana! Fuck! What was I doing squatting here staring at Missy's boobs? If Dana had walked up behind me right then and gasped, I probably would have crapped my shorts. Literally.

“Uhh, Missy?”

“Yes?”

“Your breasts are showing.” I tried to say it as politely as possible, and I expected the type of reaction you would get when you tell someone that they have a bit of food between their teeth. They quickly shut their mouth and attempt to privately fix the problem. Missy didn't do that. She froze instead.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. Her eyes darted all around first to check that her boobs were indeed out then to see if anyone else had noticed. “Kirk,” she said urgently, “Help!.”

Hearing her say my actual name shocked me almost as much as the plea for help did. Before I realized what I was doing, I had snapped her jacket shut and was zipping it up. By the time that I had fully realized what I had just done, I also became aware of the fact that my right hand had gotten a good feel of her left breast in the process.

I cringed and said, “Sorry.” Was I sorry? Not really, but that seemed like the polite thing to say.

At the same time, Missy was saying, “Thank you.”

My first instinct was to ask what she was thanking me for. Was it for covering her chest or for the accidental feel? For now, the fact that I had helped her recover her modesty seemed most likely.

Then we stared at each other awkwardly for a moment. Her eyes were huge, and I'm sure mine were too. My dick wanted to get involved in the act and enter full boner-hood, but I was trying not to listen. Hell, maybe it was the reason I had brush against her breast like that. Fuck! Maybe it was my subconscious again. Something part of me was cackling, but I was too distracted to pin down where the sound originated.

[Duckers]

Pete and Dana came back at almost the exact moment. The shit might have hit the fan right then and there, except for the fact that they found the two of us sitting quietly in our seats aggressively trying to ignore each other. Missy's jacket was zipped all the way to the top. Dammit, if I could have zipped it higher, I would have. Some glue or duct tape would have been added to the mix for good measure.

“What have you two been doing?” Pete asked smugly.

“Nothing.” I'm not sure if I had answered or if Missy had. Quite possibly both of us at once.

The rest of breakfast was pretty silent. Pete kept grinning at both Missy and me, and Dana was rubbing her leg against mine but not looking at me. Something was definitely up, but I was afraid to ask. Why? Because I was afraid that Pete was somehow responsible for this, but I was also afraid that Dana was completely unaware. Yeah, I had seen and touched Missy's boobs, but I hadn't meant to do either. Not really.

I excused myself and went to the men's room. I needed to empty out the bladder as much as possible before the last leg of the bus ride, and it was a good excuse to get away from that situation for a bit. I almost wish I could have taken Dana with me. Not so that she could see how wonderful the inside of the men's room was, but so that she wouldn't be left there with Pete.

I didn't see anyone in the rest room again, which was a blessing. It also meant that the same urinal was free. It had seen to my needs so well that I was happy to use it again. Why oh why, did all these crazy things happen to me? I found myself wishing that Dave had been there. Not so much in the bathroom but just there on the trip to talk to. Things would have been more sane.

Bah, who am I kidding? If my suspicious was right that Pete was behind Missy's flashing, Dave probably would have been right there helping pull the prank on me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I muttered to myself.

A voice from one of the stalls asked, “Dude, you passing a kidney stone?”

“Shit,” I whispered and then added more loudly, “No, sorry about that. Long morning.”

There was an explosion in the stall, which was of the type that can only be associated with a bowel movement. It was followed quickly by a grunt and someone saying, “Tell me about it.”

I couldn't help but laugh. When I finished up, I expected to turn around and find Pete standing there grinning at me, but Crapper John and myself seemed to have the place to ourselves. I washed up and headed out the door without thoroughly drying my hands. I might have lingered a bit longer to try to gather my wits, but I was afraid that the sounds emanating from Crapper John's ass were going to be accompanied by a rather unpleasant stench.

Back at the table, everyone was finished. Dana added her garbage to the tray, and I dumped it into the can. Dana and Missy went ahead towards the door talking about something. Missy glanced back at me and blushed. Pete took my place at the garbage can.

“Well?” He asked.

“Well, what?”

“See anything you liked?” He was grinning again.

Ah, shit! Had Pete set this up somehow? “Pete, if you have ruined things between Dana and me, I'm not going to be happy.”

“Between you and Dana? What are you talking about, Duckwad? Why would she care?” Pete looked genuinely confused. Wait, I guess he hadn't been at the table when Missy had asked if I was dating someone. That or he was just that oblivious.

I brushed past him and caught up with Dana. Outside, I noticed just how many people were already filing back towards the buses. A lot of people were coming out of McD's carrying to-go bags, so either they were still hungry, or they had just made it through the line.

Gloomy. That's how I would describe the weather so far. Most of the fog had burned off, but the sky was still overcast. There was enough light now that I doubted anyone but the bravest of souls would continue to fool around on the buses. When I noticed Horse Dick and his girlfriend walking toward their bus, I amended that thought from bravest to stupidest.

Dana was hugging her shirt against herself again, so I once again stuffed my hands into my pockets. I didn't like how quiet she was being now, and I started getting mad at Pete. Somehow, I just knew that Pete had just cluster-fucked my standing with Dana.

There were plenty of reasons to be mad at him that morning. Sure, he had been nice to James and had taken my side over Dave, but he had also tried to dump our breakfast in the floor, broken sacred guy laws in the bathroom, and had possibly ruined things with Dana. Uggg, the fucker! I wasn't mad at Missy, but I should have been. I guess it's hard to be mad at someone who just showed you her breasts.

I still needed to do something before we got on the bus.

“Dana, I've got to check on a couple things. Catch up to you on the bus?”

“Okay,” she seemed subdued.

Before I could figure out what was going on with Dana, it seemed that I needed to make up for something that I owed Pete. “Hey Pete.” He dropped back letting Missy go ahead. “I know something you might want to try with Missy.” I glanced around.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, it'll drive her crazy.” I glanced around again. “If you know what I mean.”

“I thought you were mad?”

“Nah, we're cool.” I glanced around. “I figured since one of us was going to be getting some action today that I should at least help you out. So, you want to know about this new move?”

“A new move? What is it, Duckwad? Missy loves new stuff.” Pete sounded a bit too eager.

“Well, come here. It's not something that everyone needs to know about.” More glancing around.

Pete peered around too. “What is it?”

“Look, Dave and I found a porno that his dad had hidden.” I gave him a knowing look.

Pete was trying to look cool about it, but I could tell that he was really, really interested now. “Was that shit any good?”

I glanced around again and tried to be quiet, but it was hard not to let some of the excitement creep out in my voice. “Holy hookers, Dude. That shit was un-fucking-believable.” That was entirely true, too. It was the first porno that I'd ever seen, and it really had been amazing. It probably had a plot to the movie other than just gratuitous banging. Something about a pizza delivery guy who had to go to extraordinary lengths to track down some missing pizzas.

Licking his lips, Pete grinned at me. “Any girl on girl stuff?”

“Shit man, it was crazy.” I nodded. “That's where I saw the trick at.” The pizza guy had shagged this hot plumber (who was indeed a woman) in the closet. The enclosed space reminded me of a bus seat for some reason.

“Duckman, tell me. Fuuuuuck, come on.” He was getting too excited now. Grossly so. I didn't really expect him to whip it out and start jerking off... Well, as strange as the day had been, I probably wouldn't have been too surprised.

“Easy there. I'll tell you.” I glanced around again. “It's really a simple trick. The most important thing is to be able to control your breathing.”

“Control my breathing? What the fuck?”

“Yep, you won't believe it.” He really wasn't.

“Why do I need to worry about my fucking breathing?”

“For this simple reason...” I said each word slowly and a bit more softly. Pete had leaned in closer and closer to hear. When I had his complete and utter attention, I slugged him in the nuts. “So you won't cough up one of your balls.”

Pete was bent over gasping. He made a feeble swipe at me, but I stepped out of the way.

“Dude,” I said, “it's really not cool to try to make someone drop their breakfast in the floor. Or to check out another guy's junk while pissing.” I didn't add anything to the list about how he had apparently arranged for me to see Missy's rack. That part had been kinda cool. I headed back for the bus and Dana.

What? You thought that I was going to be nice to Pete? Well, I was sort of nice. I waited and slugged him in the nuts when Missy wasn't there to laugh at him. When he had almost made me drop the tray, I had wanted to nutshot him immediately. So when you consider things that way, I was nice to him. Well, nicer to him than I meant to be.

Behind me, Pete finally managed to groan something that sounded a lot like, “Fucker.”

Now, I had to see if there was any damage control to be done with Dana.

[Duckers]

Before I could check on Dana, I found myself busy working with my old friend the clipboard. Mrs. Thompson was already in their seat, but I ended up standing outside with Mr. Thompson. There were no signs of the proton pack again, and I found myself wishing that I had the balls to ask him what that was.

Maybe it's better not to know.

Pete had managed to stagger his way onto the bus, but I saw that Missy was fussing over him. You don't need to be a lip-reader to tell that he was saying that he was fine. When Pete saw that I was looking, he shot me a wicked grin. I can't say that I appreciated what that grin might have meant. Hopefully, Missy wasn't pissed at me too. Knowing Pete, he was probably going to milk his “injury” for all it was worth.

Thinking about Missy automatically brought up an image of her breasts hanging out of her jacket. As much as I tried not to think about it, it was about impossible to forget how her breast felt in my hand. Not as nice as Dana's, but not bad either. Then again, I don't know that I've ever felt a bad breast.

Apparently I was going to be a part of the chaperone meeting that was convening next to our bus. Mrs. Davis was carrying a clipboard and a cup of coffee, and the other male teacher from the second bus was eating some type of energy bar. At the time, I hated those things, but they have grown on me over the years.

So far there hadn't been any serious problems. Most of the students had either slept or kept to themselves on the trip up. When they said “kept to themselves”, I doubt that they were meaning that in the literal sense. I mean I hadn't kept “it” to myself, but Dana had seemed to enjoy that fact. That made me wonder if the teachers thought of students in terms of couples for field trips.

After what Pete had said about seeing Horse Dick's junk, I wanted to ask Mrs. D what she had seen on the trip so far, but I wisely kept that to myself. She wasn't asking to borrow a ball bat to beat him over the head with, so everything was good. Personally, I just hoped that I didn't end up seeing Mr. Thompson's junk before the trip was over. Sure, I wouldn't mind seeing more of his wife, but that had been pretty awkward on its own.

Our bus won the award for getting reloaded the fastest, which wasn't surprising given how there were only about fifteen of us on it. Before I was dismissed to get back on the bus, Mrs. Davis added that we might want to keep an eye on anyone who had eaten at Burger King. Pete had told her that something he had eaten had made him feel sick.

I snorted and muttered, “Yeah, he had eaten a nutshot.”

“Did you say something, Kirk?” Mrs. D was looking at me questioningly.

“Not really. I was just hoping no one else got sick.” I almost felt bad for slugging Pete. He had deserved something, but maybe that had been too much. I'd apologize if I ran into him at the park.

She nodded, and I climbed back on the bus. The bus driver was reclined behind the wheel with a hat over his eyes. He almost looked asleep until I saw one of his eyes pop open. When he saw that it was me, he started grinning. I nodded to him in reply and moved my ass along before he could say anything. I could see Dana sitting in our seat looking out the window.

Mrs. Thompson was sitting in their seat digging through her purse. She fished out some chapstick and then noticed me.

“Hello, Kirk.” She sounded pleasantly neutral, but her cheeks were blushing faintly. “How was breakfast?”

“Very good, but I wish it had been a bit more... peaceful.” The lights weren't turned on, but there was starting to be plenty of daylight to see by. I smiled at her in a friendly manner before glancing at Dana. She was still looking out the window.

Mrs. Thompson seemed to agree with what I had said. “I haven't been on a school field trip in years, and I had forgotten just how crazy everything can get.” Geez, this trip was turning out to be extremely crazy.

As I continued on, I noticed a couple sitting towards the back on the opposite side of the aisle from our seat. They were talking quietly, but there seemed to be something heated about their discussion. Lover's spat? No clue.

Slugging Pete was still bothering me. The more I thought about it the more I realized that I was probably taking out some of my frustration with Dave on Pete. Sure, he was an asshole for trying to trip me and for whatever the fuck had happened in the restroom, but I shouldn't have been so mad at him. Heck, he had been responsible for me getting to see Missy's boobs, or at least in part. Even though I felt a bit guilty for seeing them while on a date with Dana, I had appreciated the opportunity. Okay, maybe I wasn't feeling too guilty.

Dana kept staring out the window until I got right to our seat. She smiled at me briefly then turned back to the window. Shit, this looked bad for me.

I noticed that she had the blanket covering her lap, and her hands were resting on top of the blanket. Her outer shirt was pulled closed but not buttoned. Her hair appeared to have been freshly brushed and tied back again. She appeared all prim and proper again.

Sitting down carefully beside her, there were about a million thoughts shooting through my head. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of a single thing to say. A few people from the back of the bus laughed about some joke, but it remained way to quiet between the two of us.

Without ever turning away from the window, Dana asked, “So what did you think about Missy's breasts?”

Oh fuck. Pete might have been the one who had gotten physically slugged in the balls, but I suddenly felt like Dana had just hammered mine into dust.

[ivory boy]

I just can't stop reading this! It is really good! Keep on!!

[Duckers]

“Uhhhh, what?” Holy shit! How did she know that I had seen them? This was looking really bad. Maybe I liked the silence better.

“You did get to see them, didn't you?” She finally turned away from the window and fixed me in place with her coldest glare. She couldn't keep a straight face and ended up grinning.

Wait a minute. What was going on here? Things started clicking into place. “Was this a prank or something? You didn't have anything to do with it did you?”

“No... well, not really. Okay, it wasn't my idea.” She sighed. “Missy told me about it in the bathroom while you and Pete were waiting on our orders.”

“It?” I could think of a lot of interesting stuff that they could have discussed in the bathroom.

“The dare. Pete and Missy were playing truth or dare too. Pete had dared her to wear his jacket and drink as much coffee as she could. If she couldn't keep the jacket zipped up, she had to let a guy see her boobs.” Hearing Dana say boobs was funny.

“So that's what it was all about? Whew, I thought everyone was going crazy. I kept waiting for you to say something to her about how she kept unzipping her jacket. And I was waiting for Pete to go ballistic on me.” Really, I had thought that I was going crazy. “Are you mad at me for seeing her boobs?”

She shook her head. “I'm the one who suggested you.”

My jaw dropped. Dana was kind enough to pick it up for me. “Wait a minute... you're telling me that you suggested that another girl should show her tits to your date?”

Dana was blushing a little, but she nodded.

“You're very first date?”

“Well, it sounds bad when you put it that way.” She blushed even more.

“Holy cow! Marry me?” Wow, not only was Dana turning out to be much more wild than I had imagined, but she was also letting me see other sets of boobs. Wow!

“I don't know that I'll be making a habit of it.” She smiled. “When Missy told me how nervous she was about the bet, I started thinking of guys who she could show them to, assuming she lost. You seemed like the best choice.”

“I'm flattered, but why me?” Oh geez, I felt bad about slugging Pete now. Not too bad, but little bad.

“Well, I knew you had dated different girls, but not even Vicki ever heard any rumors about your 'conquests', which seems to be unusual for the guys in our school. So I told Missy that she could trust you not to say anything to anyone. You won't will you?” She wasn't pleading with me, but she was waiting for an answer.

I couldn't help myself, so I asked, “And how much is my silence worth?” I favored her with one of my most sly smiles.

“Well, I can't speak for Missy, but how about...” She leaned over and kissed me. It was a passionate kiss that involved our tongues doing some interesting dancing.

When we parted, I said, “Well now, that was a pretty good down payment on my silence.”

“Down payment?” She arched an eyebrow. “I think it was worth more than that.”

“And just how do you know what a kiss is worth? You're still fairly new to that particular system of barter.”

She started to say something then stopped. Her eyes went big for a moment, and I was clueless as to why. “Would you rather ask Missy what she would pay you?” Dana's eyes narrowed.

“No, but I think this way you will have to kiss me more.” I stuck my tongue out at her, but she quickly trapped it in her mouth. Eventually, I added, “See, isn't this better?”

“I could definitely get used to this.” That made two of us.

[Duckers]

Well, when I had boarded the bus after breakfast, I had been given the distinct impression that we would be leaving momentarily. That impression turned out to be rather false. We ended up sitting there for almost fifteen more minutes waiting on people to come out of McDonald's. The line for the restroom had been that bad. The Peanut Gallery in the back of the bus amused themselves by making fun of the stragglers as they came out.

As for me, an old Chicago song was running through my head. I think the title of the song is “25 or 6 to 4”. Hell of a strange title, and I can never remember more than a snippet or two of the lyrics. Compared to most of Chicago's songs, that one rocked. Most of their newer stuff had been love songs.

Now that things were cleared up between Dana and me, we stared at each other for a moment, then hunkered down in the seat and spent the wait exchanging kisses and holding hands. Dana stayed under the blanket, and I tried to behave. That was harder to do than it sounded. After everything we did earlier, I wanted to do more with her than just kiss and hold hands. The fact that it was light outside made the idea of continuing our adventure risky.

At one point, I checked my watch. Dana took the opportunity to ask, “How long do you think before we get there?”

I finished my calculations. “Another two hours or so. If you add the fact that we're on buses, who knows how long it'll take.” We were passing a minivan even as I said that, so maybe the drivers were hurrying. “Excited?”

“Yes, but not as excited as I was earlier...” She grinned.

I grinned too. “Me either.”

“You did seem really excited this morning.” She rubbed my crotch meaningfully.

“Well, you got to experience my excitement from beginning to end.”

“Maybe next time I won't be as nervous, and I'll actually remember it.”

“Ouch! You mean I'm not memorable?” That hurt my feelings a bit.

“I didn't mean that, but all of it seems like a blur.” She seemed to be struggling for the right words.

“A pleasant blur,” I agreed. All of the worries I had and all of the anxiety about the fact that this was Dana. It had all melted away for the most part. I wouldn't say that I was perfectly comfortable with Dana yet, but I was far more comfortable than earlier. I wasn't sure where she was going with this line of discussion. Was she just passing the time or was this an invitation to keep our game going? I glanced around. Mr. Thompson had just stepped back onto the bus and was talking to the bus driver. Mrs. Thompson appeared to be rummaging in her bag again. Behind us, the arguing couple were sitting very close together, so I guess they weren't arguing now. Oh, and everyone's favorite goat buddy, Tommy, was coming up the aisle.

“Guys, can I bug you for a minute?” Tommy kept his voice low.

Dana and I exchanged shrugs. “Sure Tommy, what can I do ya for?” Ewww, I should have chosen my words a bit better because I suddenly saw visions of Tommy and a goat.

Tommy slid into the seat in front of us sitting one his knees with his forearms resting on the seat in front of us. He had an ink pen in his hand. It was one of those white Bic pens with the blue cap. Pretty standard as pens went. “Okay, so I need your help.”

“Whose help? Mine? Dana's? Both of us?” Now, I like Tommy, but I'm not close to him. I don't particularly believe the goat stories, but you can probably tell that I have a hard time dismissing them too.

“I need you to write something on me.”

“Uhhh... I don't see a cast anywhere.” About the only time I like to write on someone is when they have a cast on a broken limb. Dave had dared me to draw a bullseye on Steph once, which I had done with a Sharpie around her nipple. Steph hadn't been too happy about that dare, but she had ended up liking how it turned out. She hadn't liked how long it had taken to fade though.

“A cast?” Tommy looked clueless.

Dana chimed in, “You know like you break your arm and all your friends sign your cast?” She adjusted the blanket a little.

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just really need you to help me by writing something on me.”

“Why?” I wanted to know more before agreeing.

“Come on. I can't say, but I just need you to help me.” He kept stressing “help me” each time.

Dana was a step ahead of me and asked, “Is it a part of a game?”

Tommy immediately looked relieved. “You could say that.”

“Well, I think Kirk can help you out then.”

I sighed. I guess I was today's official dare helper. “Gimme the pen.” Then a thought struck me. “Wait. Where exactly do I need to write something? If it is below the belt, I'm going to nominate Dana to do the writing.”

Dana had turned crimson, and I earned an elbow for that crack. Hells bells, I really didn't want to be writing “goat fucker” on his dick or anything.

“I honestly don't know.” He held out a folded slip of paper. “These are the instructions.”

I rolled my eyes as I took the paper. It had been torn from a notebook. Who the hell brought a notebook on a field trip to an amusement park? That thought made me feel like an idiot because I had ended up bringing a couple of clipboards. “If this turns out 'wrong', someone is going to get hurt.”

Tommy grinned as if I had been joking.

As I unfolded the paper, Dana crowded in next to me to see what it said. When it was unfolded, I read the instructions and what I was supposed to write a couple times. Dana and I both snickered. “Alright, I can do that. It's on your forehead.” To Dana, I added, “That's almost witty.” Tommy tried to peek at the paper, but I didn't let him. That was a part of the instructions too.

Tommy didn't look very happy now, but he offered me the pen. I took it and popped the cap (which was well-chewed). Tommy leaned down. “Tommy, are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, let's get it over with.” His voice was just oozing resignation. “At least it isn't a marker.”

Steph would have agreed with that statement whole-heartedly.

At least there was no need to write on Tommy's junk, and I was eternally grateful for that. I had seen too many dicks today as it was. It's not as easy to write on someone's forehead as you might think. For one thing, I was trying to keep from touching his forehead with my hand, which made things that much harder. A marker would have been a lot easier, but the Bic turned out to be very reliable. I took my time not wanting to mess up. When I finished, I passed the pen back, trying not to touch the chewed part.

Dana told him, “Good luck.”

Tommy just nodded and headed back to his seat. People were laughing before he even got halfway there. Someone started singing the theme song to “COPS”. Dana and I were laughing too. I couldn't help it. As per the instructions, I had written “BAAAD BOY” on his head. The goat reference put it all over the top for me.

I heard Tommy asking, “Alright assholes, what does it say?” That made me laugh even harder. When I turned around to look, he was holding his hair back from his forehead trying to see his reflection in the window.

Mr. Thompson called out, “Tommy, watch your language please.” You could tell that he was trying not to laugh. Mrs. Thompson was looking also, but she wasn't even trying to hide her amusement. The bus driver was looking in the mirror shaking his head.

About then, the radio crackled to life informing us that we were on the move. The bus driver started the bus. The engine roared to life with an angry rumble, which quickly smoothed out to a dull hum.

“Let's get this circus back on the road.” I wish I had been the one to say that, but that had been someone from the back. Circus was about the best description that I could have come up with for this trip so far.

[Duckers]

Something delayed the second bus from pulling out in the right order, so we ended up following the first bus briefly. Mrs. D asked what was wrong, but the answer came back that everything was fine. Maybe that was some kind of code where they changed to an alternate channel to discuss the situation. No clue, and the Thompsons didn't seem too interested. Mrs. Thompson appeared to have her head leaning on her husband's shoulder.

I did catch a glimpse of Angel's face on the bus ahead of us, and I think I saw Jimmy too. They were situated in the midst of a wall of people, which told me that something was going on. I wasn't sure that I even wanted to know.

“Kirk, do you think we'll see Tommy up here again?”

“Dunno.” I glanced back and saw that a girl was sniffing Tommy's armpits. That's what it looked like at least. “Maybe. They're definitely still playing.”

“Oh.” She almost sighed.

“Were you wanting to join them?” I grinned.

“No, but I wouldn't mind continuing our game.” She looked at me shyly, or maybe that should be slyly.

“Really?” I could tell that she wasn't kidding, but I wanted to hear her say it.

“It was fun.” We swayed into each other as the bus merged onto the interstate. There was a bit more traffic now.

“Are you sure you don't want to play with more people?” I almost chuckled at the thought of Dana “playing” with another guy's dick, then I realized that I wasn't such a big fan of that thought right now. Maybe I shouldn't have dared Steph to play with Dave's dick. What's done is done.

“I'm certain... at least for today.” Interesting. That ushered the depressing thoughts of Dave and Steph right out of my head.

“Well, I may hold you to that.” I decided not to push that point any further and filed it away for later. “It wouldn't be quite as fun though if the backseat crew kept coming up with dares for us to help them with.”

“No, it wouldn't,” Dana agreed.

“Too bad we don't have a mirror or something to give us some advanced warning.”

“A mirror might look suspicious.”

“True.” Then a thought struck me. “I wonder if this would work.” I turned around in the seat, resting my back against the seat in front of us and my knees against our seat. I sat like that from time to time on bus rides, and I don't find it necessarily uncomfortable. Newer buses had angled seats that made this position impossible for me, but this bus still had the older straight up and down seats. “Not sure how long I can stay like this though. But I can keep an eye on the back.”

“And I can watch the front,” Dana finished. She probably had the easier job.

“Let's just hope the driver doesn't slam on the brakes; I'll be stuck in the floor between the seats.”

Dana grinned. “That would be funny.”

“You may laugh now, but you'll be doing all the work to get a kiss.” I leaned forward as much as I could to illustrate my point. I could barely lean toward her at all. She was more than happy to make up the rest of the distance for a brief kiss. “Not to mention helping pry me out of the floor.”

“So whose turn is it?”

“That's a good question.” So much crap had happened during breakfast that I really had to struggle to remember. “Yours. I dared you to hold my hand.”

“At least you are honest.”

“Why Dana, were you testing me?”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “Truth or dare?”

“Call me a wuss, but I think I'll warm back up with a truth.” All the daylight made me a bit nervous.

“If you insist, 'wuss'.” We both grinned. “What did you think... about... Missy's breasts?”

Oh crap, this could get me in trouble. “Well, the first thing I thought was 'Holy Cow, Missy's boobs are sticking out!', but they were probably the third best boobs that I saw all day.”

“Third best?”

“Yep,” I tried to leave it at that, but she gave me a questioning look. “Well, I didn't really get a good look at Mrs. Thompson's chest, so I'll withhold judgment on her. Missy's were pretty good, but she had a hickey and a scar. Angel's were the second best, and yours were the absolute best.”

“You're just saying that.”

“No way. The second thing that I thought of when I saw Missy's breasts was that they weren't anywhere near as nice as yours.”

“I've always hated it when I hear boys comparing girls, but I kind of like hearing you say that.” She probably wouldn't like it as much if the comparison wasn't as favorable, but I wisely kept that to myself. I'm not always a dumbass.

“Truth or dare?”

She patted a finger against her lips thinking. “I'm not a wuss, so 'dare'.”

I stuck my tongue out which made her grin. “Fine, how about... you let me see your breasts again?”

That made her look startled. In the back of my mind, I had figured that I would go with some stupid dare at first, but the discussion about boobs changed my mind.

“Kirk... I... I...”

“Well, I need to make sure I wasn't wrong about those rankings.” The horns from that Chicago song were trumpeting in my head again. Honestly, it's a good song, but I hate getting any song stuck in my head.

She looked around timidly. “You'll say something if someone comes up, right?”

“Of course.” Why wouldn't I? I couldn't think of any girl that I wouldn't warn in the same situation. Well, maybe not Angel. No, I'd probably warn her too, or at least I would until she told me not to. That girl seemed allergic to clothes.

“Okay, I was worried.” And she did look a bit worried.

“Why?” I didn't have a clue why she would think that I wouldn't warned her.

“I thought that you might do something like what Pete did to Missy.”

“Oh no. I don't want to share you with anyone.” That made her smile. “At least not yet...” Her eyes went big. “Hey, you did say you might want to play with other people in the game.”

“I did, didn't I? Would you be comfortable playing a game like that?”

“I... well... Maybe. I guess it would depend on the other people. If I could trust them.” If I could trust them with Dana was what I meant. She had gotten adventurous with me, but I didn't want to see her hurt. Actually, I felt like I was insane even considering including Dana in a game like that with other people.

“Trusting someone does help,” she agreed. “Truth or dare?”

“Uhh, you forgot something.”

“What?” She gave me a questioning look.

“You didn't do the dare.”

“Oh!” She blushed and opened up her outer shirt. She slid her thumbs under the front of her tank top and then stared at me.

What was she waiting for? Oh, I got it. With a glance towards the back, I confirmed, “It's safe.”

I appreciated everything about Dana doing this dare. I appreciated how she managed to hide or mask her movements with both opening her shirt and raising her tank top. Instead of holding rigidly still, she had seemed natural in her motions. I even appreciated how she slowly exposed her stomach and then held her tank top where I could only see the lower slopes of her breasts, teasing me.

“If you keep teasing me like this, you might not be totally safe with me.” I gave her my best sex-starved, raving lunatic grin. Some might say that it isn't far from my normal grin.

“You mean like this?” She raised one side of her tank top, exposing just a hint of her nipple, and then covered it back. She slowly pulled the other side up and gave me a quick flash before covering that one too.

My dick was enjoying the show. It had stood straight up and was trying to find some popcorn.

“Exactly like that.” I lowered my right leg so that it was flat against the seat. My knee was touching her hip, and my foot was sticking out into the aisle. That position had the potential to be painful, but it actually felt pretty good. The best part was that it now gave Dana an excellent view of my crotch, and so I adjusted the front of my shorts in emphasis of my boner.

Dana's gaze locked onto my crotch. She must have been able to see the bulge there, because she was now wearing a satisfied smile. I looked down and realized that you'd have to be blind not to be able to tell that I had an erection. My shorts were pulled tight against my crotch which clearly emphasizing my cock.

I had to endure another moment or two of teasing, before she finally pulled her tank top back up to where it had rested before breakfast.

“Ahh, and there's my two favorite ladies.” I appreciated this part of the dare the most. If they had been impressive in the dark with only the occasional headlights for illumination, they were doubly as impressive in the daylight. I really, really hoped that I would get the chance to see her completely naked. Doubted that would be today, but soon.

“Would you like me to leave my shirt up?”

“Yes, please. And I'll take a dare now.” I glanced towards the back again. No problems.

“How about if I dare you to let me... see your... cock... again?” She looked at me expectantly.

[Duckers]

So, I had liked how she said “cock”, especially when it was my cock she was talking about. At the same time, I didn't think that I could get away with slipping my shorts down. It was too light and from this angle it would be easy to tell that I wasn't wearing shorts. The blanket could probably solve some of that.

“Pulling my shorts down without someone seeing me is going to be a problem.”

“Hrmm, how about using that.. what did you call it?... escape hatch?”

“That could work. Would you like to do the honors?” I could have teased her a bit the way she had just teased me, but she I liked the idea of letting her pull it out a lot more.

“Yes, I would.” She didn't reach for the zipper immediately, but she began rubbing my dick through my shorts. Her eyes flickered toward the front of the bus then back down to my crotch. I looked up to check on the back of the bus, which was also clear. Dana's hand moved down to my balls then back up trailing her fingers across the teeth of my zipper. She took hold of the zipper and stopped. “What song is that? I think I've heard it, but I can't place it.”

“What?” Song? What song? Was she hearing things? I didn't hear any music. Wait, I had been humming faintly. I started humming again. It wasn't the Chicago song this time, so at least my brain had changed stations. “Oh, that's 'Stairway to Heaven' by Led Zepplin. And I didn't even realize that I was humming.”

“Are you nervous?” She was smiling at me. Something about that smile said that she was enjoying that I might be nervous.

Was I nervous? Yeah, I was. As I said before, doing public dares really spooks me. “Yes, I'm a bit nervous,” I admitted.

“Why? I've already seen it... and other stuff...” She let go of the zipper and gave my dick a squeeze through my shorts.

“Well, it's not you that I have a problem with. It's everyone else on the bus. It was different when it was dark.”

“So says the fully-covered guy to the girl with her breasts sticking out.”

“See, I've already thought of an emergency plan for you. I'll just cover the girls up with no one the wiser. For me, it'll take a bit more doing. If you remember, my dick tends to stand out when it's happy.”

“Oh, I remember.” She was smiling. “We can use the blanket, and I'll help hide it.” That made me grin. I could imagine her throwing herself onto my dick like a soldier sacrificing himself to cover a live grenade.

Evidently, I didn't look totally convinced, so she went on to say, “It'll be fine.”

She was probably right. Hell, once it was out and she started playing with it again (assuming that's what she was wanting to do), all my worries would wash away.

Fuck! Here came a girl from the game in the back. I tugged Dana's tank top back down, and she put her hand back in her lap. Our nameless girl asked Dana if she could tell her something. Dana nodded, and the girl leaned over and began whispering in her ear. I caught a few words, but nothing really made sense to me.

Dana began to blush. After a moment, the girl was blushing too. When she finally stopped, she stood back up and asked, “Well?”

Dana shook her head. “I'm on a date, but I'm flattered.” The girl nodded and walked back. Everyone was grinning and waiting for her to tell them what happened. I wanted to know too.

“What was that all about?”

Dana was still blushing. “Evidently, she's had a crush on me for years.”

I raised my eyebrows and tried not to laugh. “Surely that was just a part of the game.”

“She said that it wasn't.” Dana was looking a bit uncomfortable again, and she apparently believed the girl.

“Hrmm, think she'd be up for a threesome?” Whack! I grinned.

“Are you up for a onesome?” Her glaring skills were in top form.

“Uhh, no, I admitted. “A twosome is much more fun.” I leaned in to kiss her, but she didn't respond at first. She finally smiled and met my lips.

“Where were we?” I pulled her tank top back up and gave her breasts a gentle caress. They looked even better with a bit of daylight. “About here?”

“I don't think you were doing that, but I'm not going to complain.” She rubbed my crotch again and started to work on my zipper. “And I think I was... here?”

“That seems about right.” I smiled at her, and then noticed someone else was coming up. “Crap!” I reluctantly let go of her breasts and fixed her tank top.

It was a guy this time. I think he was Nameless Girl's date, and I really hoped he wasn't planning to whisper in my ear that he wanted me to bang his butt. As he got closer, he was looking at Dana, so I knew I wasn't his target. Then he unzipped his pants. Shit!

“Dana, you want to see another guy's junk?”

“No.”

“Be right back.” I jumped up and blocked the guy. He had zipped his pants back.

“I was just--,” he started to say. I'm not sure what he saw on my face, but between my expression and our size difference it must have been something that he didn't like. He swallowed.

“Let's go have a chat with your friends.” We marched back to where they sat. They saw us coming and stopped whatever they were doing. One of the girl's had popped up suddenly, and I think she had been giving Tommy a blowjob. Hopefully, she'd finish that up for him after I left. I hate to think that I kept someone from getting head. “Guys, let's leave me and Dana out of the game. Okay?”

“Sure, Duck.”

“Thanks guys.” I headed back up. The couple that had been arguing were snuggled up watching me. I didn't care much for the way that guy was staring at me, so I grinned at me. He grimaced and looked away.

The Thompsons were turned around watching me. Wow, they actually took notice of something that was happening on the bus. Maybe their chaperoning skills were improving or maybe their toys were recharging. I plopped back down facing forward again. “I asked them to keep us out of the game.”

“Thank you. Was someone about to show me their penis?”

“Well, I was, but maybe it's not a good time.”

“No, I mean someone else.”

“Oh, yeah. Do you want me to get him to come back?”

“No thank you.” She grimaced and then asked, “So you think we should stop?”

“For now. I don't know if they'll keep bugging us or not.” I glanced back and noticed that the girl sitting with Tommy had disappeared again. “Oh, and Tommy is getting a blow job.”

“He has a goat back there?” Dana turned around to look.

I laughed, and Dana joined me. Too funny.

Eventually, I asked, “Feel like a different game?”

“Sure, what type of game?”

I dug around in my backpack and produced a deck of cards. “Rummy?”

“That's fairly tame after our other game.” She removed the blanket and folded it up.

I agreed. “Should give us a chance to talk though.” Not to mention that keeping our hands full of cards would keep us out of trouble. I shuffled the cards and dealt the first hand.

[Duckers]

Oh my god, I was going to piss my pants. I couldn't see any way to keep from doing it. I wish I had a cup or a bottle to piss in. The feeling of pressure from my bladder was insane. There had to be at least a fifty gallon drum's worth of piss in there. Fuck!

Glancing at Dana, she wasn't much better off. She was squirming in her seat, and she wore a look of utter desperation on her face. If I had found something to piss in, Dana would have demanded to be able to use it too.

Our card game had went from Rummy to a short-lived hand of Go Fish to War, and we ended up playing Rummy the most. It was hard playing in the seat, but we managed. When I first noticed that I needed to pee, the card game had been a nice distraction, but we had gotten to the point where both of us were too distracted by the need to pee to play. Eventually, we had put the cards away. It was taking most of my concentration just to hold back the flow.

“Are we going to make it?” I asked her. Holy shit, I was about ready to whip my dick out and tie the fucker in a knot.

“I hope so. Wetting myself isn't an option.” Both of her hands were clenched into fists and pressed against her thighs. When she moved them, her hands left pressure marks on her legs.

“Wetting myself is starting to feel like the only option.” I sat up straight putting both feet on the floor. That helped take the pressure off a tiny bit. “This is bad.”

Dana nodded sadly and then started biting one of her knuckles. If knuckle-biting looked like it was helping her, I was going to give it a try.

“I didn't even drink that much with breakfast,” I lamented. Looking back, I know just how wrong I was. I had drunk a whole damn lot. Even after all these years, my bladder still cringes when I remember how bad this experience had been.

The bus hit a hellacious pothole about then. It must have been a bad one because it felt like the Jolly Green Giant had just smacked the shit out of the bus with that giant club of his. I swear that I could feel the urine slosh around inside of me. Almost everyone on the bus cried out with a communal answer to the tune of “Fuck!”

I turned around enough to survey the rest of the group, taking care not to put any extra pressure on my bladder. I saw faces that looked just as distressed as ours and maybe a few that were worse off (there's no fucking way that was possible). “At least we aren't alone in our suffering.”

“Sometimes, it helps to know that someone is suffering with you,” Dana said. “But right now, it doesn't help.” No, it didn't really. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back, and I hoped that was the limit of her strength. If not, she was going to pulverize my hand. Urine must have given her superhuman strength, and her knuckles were turning bone white. Oww....

“Hey, would you like to fool around?” I wiggled my eyebrows at her. It was amazing that I could find the strength to be flippant, but it was more amazing that I could find the strength to ignore how she was grinding the bones of my hand into dust. Fuck, I'm glad she hadn't squeezed my balls like that. They would have exploded in shower of disappointed sperm.

Dana just snorted in response. Yeah, I couldn't have managed anything sexual at the moment to save my life. Well, if someone put a gun to my head, I'd try. I'd probably also end up hoping that they would confuse urine for cum.

Someone plopped down on the seat across from us. It was Kathy, who I had known since Kindergarten. I even had a crush on her in grade school for a while. Kathy didn't look very happy, and I figured she had the “Need to Pee Blues” too. Kathy's hair was nearly black, but it was a brownish black. Her brown eyes were crinkled up, detracting slightly from her looks. She had always been a pretty girl with a nice figure, but something about her personality kept her from being more than just pretty. She was shallow and... bland. That's about the only way I could describe her. Her body was very nice, so she had a lot of dates. Hell, she was a cheerleader, but she was just “blah” beyond her looks.

There have been times in my life when I would have shagged anything female, but Kathy had never appealed to me. Not much at least. Bah, who am I kidding? There were many slow nights when I would have been happy to bang her until both nuts were completely empty.

“Kirk, are we going to stop soon?” Kathy asked. I could hear a tremor in her voice.

I shook my head. “No extra stops, but we're about twenty minutes from the park.” I didn't have to fake a sympathetic smile.

“There are a few of us back there who are about to explode.” She had her knees clenched together.

I think there were more than just a few. “Yeah, we're in the same boat.” My leg was shaking of its own accord. You would have thought that would make things worse, but somehow it helped.

Dana suddenly gave my hand a quick squeeze and nudged me slightly toward Kathy. I looked a bit more closely at Kathy, and I could see that there were tears in her eyes. Shit, she must have been in worse shape than me. And I'll be damned, but that was saying something.

“I can radio Mrs. Davis and double check.” It was the best that I could do for her. If I would have had that aforementioned empty cup, she would have been the third person who could have used it. Not that it would have been very empty by that point.

“Okay.” She dabbed at her eyes.

I pointed at the radio which was currently behind Kathy, and she passed it to me. I told Mrs. D how urgent the need was on our bus, but she said that we were only ten miles out from the park. Better than I had thought.

“Can you make it?” I asked Kathy.

She sighed but then nodded. The fact that it would only be another ten minutes appeared to be bearable. I know I felt a little more relieved, so I relayed that we would hang in there until then. Instead of going back to her seat, Kathy went towards the front of the bus. I guess that the front of the bus would make her a few seconds closer to relief.

The Thompsons had been sitting up and behaving for a while, so I didn't feel the need to run defense for them. Hell, there was only one need that I was feeling right then, and it was yellow and threatening to come out in an explosive rush. Holy Moly, what kind of knot was I going to use of my wiener?

After a few moments, Kathy's boyfriend went forward to join her. She made him squeeze past her and sit next to the window, but she ended up resting her head on his shoulder. I felt bad for Kathy, Dana, and my bladder. Not to mention everyone who cried out from the pothole. If we ran into a traffic jam, I was going to add feeling bad for the floor of the bus. Not to mention everyone's shoes. I'm not sure how much piss fifteen teenagers could generate, but I felt absolutely confident that it would at least have been a couple feet deep.

Time was dragging now. Don't get me wrong, I could tell that the bus was still zipping right along, even passing cars from time to time, but dammit if it didn't seem like five minutes went by between each mile marker. Dana muttered something, and I was polite enough not to ask for her to repeat it.

Someone in the back was chanting, “Fuck, fuck, hurry fucker hurry. Fuck, fuck, hurry fucker hurry.” I couldn't think of anything to add to those sentiments. It sounded like Tommy was laughing about the situation, but I didn't care. He could have been laughing about something funny his goat had done.

When I was about to give up hope and soak my shorts, I saw a faint glimmer of hope in the distance. It was green with a reflective border and reflective letters. An informational sign. I leaned forward and squinted to read it, then I ended up cursing. A semi-truck was blocking my view. It made me so mad that I didn't even think to apologize to Dana for swearing. Finally, the sign popped back into view. The exit for the park was two miles ahead.

Dana cried out, “Thank you, thank you!”

Someone behind us expressed it as, “Hell yes!”

Kathy appeared to be crying. Either they were tears of joy or she had already pissed herself.

It was about that time as I was reveling end to my bladder's torture that I noticed something. There were rain drops streaking the window. The bus driver had to turn on the wipers.

“No, no, no, no!” Dana looked at me questioningly, and I could only point at the drops on the window.

The three buses filed off of the freeway together. We came to an intersection with traffic lights, but luckily they were in our favor.

The sign marking the entrance to the park was a huge affair that was lit up with scrolling letters. Different musical groups were performing in the park's fair grounds, but they all appeared to be weekend dates. In the background, I could see the park's huge observation tower and a number of coasters rising up above the screening treeline.

We were a bit ahead of the park's 10 a.m. opening time, but I could see empty train cars running on the tracks. Probably the park mechanic's putting everything through its morning checks.

“Welcome to amusement park paradise,” I told Dana.

“As long as there are restrooms, I'll be happy.” I seconded that sentiment. She pulled her bra out of her bag and stuffed it into her pocket. “I almost forgot about it.”

Rain continued to fall, but it didn't seem to be as heavy now that we were traveling at slower speeds. Just sprinkles, I hoped. The buses pulled up to the bus entrance gate, and I could see paperwork passed back and forth from the lead bus.

I had upgraded my trying-not-to-pee efforts from just shaking my leg to rapidly opening and squeezing together my legs. Dana was rocking back and forth. Our eyes met, and I wouldn't have been surprised to see that they were floating in a sea of yellow urine. This was going to be close.

The bus parking was separate from the regular parking. Further the fuck away from the entrance! There were numerous groans as everyone realized that, and I thought that I heard someone speaking in tongues. Luckily, we were still early, so we parked just a few spots from the front of the bus lot.

Before we were parked, Mrs. Davis radioed, “Since a lot of us needs the rest room, we'll meet outside the entrance and try to get into the park as quickly as possible.”

I remembered something important and hit the talk button. “Mrs. Davis, there are rest rooms just outside of the entrance.”

Silence. Finally, she crackled back, “Kirk, are you sure?” Her voice sounded odd. Kinda like how you would expect a deathrow inmate to sound when he found out that there was a chance that the governor was going to pardon him at the last moment.

Closing my eyes, I recreated the entrance in my mind. The ticket booths were off to the right with queue lines leading up to each window. Six windows plus two specifically for season pass purchases and two more for group sales. There was a fountain off to the left where people usually sat around waiting for the tickets to be purchased. What color was the fountain? Fuck, who cares! Concentrate! Straight ahead were the entrance gates where you gave your ticket to an attendant and passed through the turnstiles. Off to the right between the ticket windows and the gates there were... there were... a set of restrooms. To my mind's eye, those restrooms looked like the pearly gates of heaven.

Was that right? That's a good question. My father is something of a rollercoaster nut, and we've traveled to numerous parks over the years. All those trips and parks ran together at times, but we had been to this park more than any of the others. Yes, I could remember the last time we had come here as a family. Both my older brother and younger sister had similarly been in dire straights, and I could recall laughing as they sprinted to the rest rooms. Right where I remembered them being.

“Absolutely positive.”

“Oh thank god!” Mrs. D sounded relieved too. “Pass that along to each of the buses. After everyone goes to the rest room, we'll meet near the ticket windows so everyone can get their ticket. Bring the clipboards too.”

I guess we weren't the only ones who needed to pee.

[Duckers]

That run from the bus to the rest room remains stuck in my head as a jumbled string of images. I needed to pee so badly that my brain felt like it was shorting out. The buses parked, and Dana and I were at the door before the driver even opened it. Kathy was pressed up against my back. Ahh, I could feel her boobs. They jiggled as she danced around waiting for the door to open. How the hell had we gotten in front of her? How the hell had Dana gotten in front of me? Why the hell weren't the doors opening?

The doors sprang open on all three buses. There was no way that I could have seen them open at once, but that's how I remember it. We ran down the bus steps, stumbling and trying to avoid being trampled by everyone who was pressed behind us. Dana nearly fell at the bottom of the steps, and I physically held everyone back while she tried to catch her balance. Kathy was pressed against me so hard that I could have worn her like a backpack. She was trembling so hard, but I couldn't tell if it was because she was getting crushed or if it was from how badly she needed to pee. I think she was crying again, but it could have just been urine leaking from her eyes.

I jumped out of the door and wrapped an arm around Dana's waist, both steadying her and getting her out of harm's way. It was a near thing. Being trampled to death by a bunch of classmates on the way to the rest room would have been a very low point in my life. Not to mention the end of it.

Then we were running. I'm not sure how fast we were running, but we stayed ahead of most people. Amazingly, Kathy and her boyfriend never passed us. I glanced back once and saw that she was chugging along oddly. I guess that was as fast as she could go. Missy went sprinting past us with tears streaming down her face. Oh shit, all that coffee she had drunken! Pete wasn't far behind, but he didn't pay any attention to me. For the time being, he looked focused on the goal.

Over the next few strides, I was just watching the way that Dana's breasts were bouncing happily in her shirt. I'm sure anyone who saw her could tell that she didn't have a bra on. Hell, I hoped that her bra didn't fall out of her pocket. Maybe it would magically attach itself to the back of her shirt and billow open to act as a huge parachute.

We passed a sweet looking Pontiac GTO. It was blue with white stripes, and I slowed down involuntarily to admire it. The blue paint had those metallic flecks in it which really made the car sparkle. I could only imagine what it would have looked like in full sunlight. Dana called my name, and I sprinted back to her.

In a moment of strange lucidity, Tommy Jones went trotting past us, and I felt really bad for him. Not just for the writing on his forehead, which looked faded as if he had tried to wipe it off. I had been wrong about hearing him laugh. Apparently, he had a finger shoved up his ass trying to keep the shit from coming out. I couldn't help laughing, but that turned out to be a bad idea. Laughing made it harder to keep the pee in. This was going to be close.

A football player ran past us wearing a pained expression, though I heard him chuckle as he shot past Tommy. Another couple people went past. They ran track, so I didn't feel bad about watching them shoot ahead. That's not totally true. I wanted to trip them, but it was hard to spare the effort to be that petty.

Then one of the strangest sights that I had witnessed all day took place. Out of no where there was a blur of motion off to my left, and it took me a moment to realize that Mrs. Davis had just zipped by. I smelled something at the same time. It was probably just a mixture of anti-freeze and motor oil embedded into the pavement, but I swear that it smelled like burning sneakers. She easily caught Tommy and his finger-butt shuffle (Hell if I know how he managed to pass Dana and I in the first place... desperation I guess), blew by the track stars, and put the football player to shame.

“Holy...” I began.

“...Shit,” Dana finished for me.

We looked at each other, grinned, and then lengthened our strides. At the edge of the parking lot, there was a low fence which separated the lot from a small road where the tram made its circuit. There was no way that any of us would be waiting to take the tram from the parking lot to the entrance. For one thing it wasn't that far, and for another I don't think we could hold it that long. Dana aimed for one of the openings in the fence and went through it just behind Tommy who we had caught back up with. Instead of squeezing through the opening behind them, I felt like showing off by hurtling the fence.

Under normal circumstances, I could have cleared it easily. Between needing to piss and the wet pavement, I barely made it over. My knee banged against the top of the fence (luckily it was a smooth bar and not jagged chain link), and my trailing foot tried to catch the rail. I popped over, but I ended up catching myself on the pavement with my hands.

“Smooth move, Asswipe!” Tommy howled as he hobbled ahead. Running made his bangs blow back highlighting my handwriting on his forehead. I wanted nothing more than to stop him and beat the shit out of him. He would have been the only person that I could have literally beaten the shit out of without much effort. Then again, it looked like all I needed to do was stop him for a few minutes; the shit would come out all on its own.

I was back on my feet and running beside Dana again. A quick glance at my hands and knee had shown that I hadn't left any chunks of flesh behind. We parted long enough to shoot past Tommy to either side. “Nice buttplug,” I told him. He swore at me, but he didn't move his hand away from his ass.

When we had pulled away from him a little, I glanced back. Tommy's face had gone ashen, making the ink that much more vivid. “He's not going to make it,” I told Dana. She glanced back and then shared a concerned look with me, but she couldn't spare the effort to talk.

We passed Pete next. He was holding his side and struggling to catch his breath. “Pick up the pace, Pete. Tommy's gaining on you, and he was just saying how your backside reminded him of a goat.”

Pete spared enough breath to say “Duckwad” and then we left him behind. I'm sure he would have said a few more profound gems of wisdom if I had given him enough time to gasp them out.

Looking ahead, I didn't think we could catch anyone else. Missy and Mrs. D were leading the pack, and I was amazed that they both had stayed ahead of the athletes. I'd have to give Pete a hard time about Missy being able to outrun him at some point.

Everything blurred again, and I was suddenly rounding the fountain heading towards the rest room door. Almost tripped over a young girl with pig tails who darted out in front of me. The next thing I knew I was standing at a stall next to the football player who had passed me earlier pissing for all I was worth. It felt so good that it hurt, and even I remember shuddering.

Ralph Carter, Jr. (the football player who everyone called Carter) grinned at me. We were about the same height, but he was a bit more muscular and wore his hair in a perpetual dark buzz cut. He also turned out to be a firmer believer in the Guy Laws for Rest Room Use. He didn't glance down at my dick, but he speak up. “Boys, that was a close one,” he said including the others from our group who had made it. Given how dire the pissing situation had been, I felt that I could cut him some slack.

“Amen,” I said and the others echoed that sentiment. Some college dude wearing baseball jersey apparently agreed too.

About that time, I could hear what sounded like a train coming. Well, that's assuming that a train went “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” over and over. Tommy came waddling into the rest room and blindly bashed his way into a stall. Luckily the first one he tried was unoccupied. His pants were already halfway down with his skinny ass flapping in the breeze. I'm amazed that his ass didn't look like it had a turtle poking its head out of it.

The door to the stall was scarcely closed before I heard an explosion that must have been on par with the detonation of the world's first atomic bomb. And I swear I heard Tommy sobbing with relief. Everyone laughed, even Tommy (once he was able) and the college dude. We couldn't help it. We had survived the encounter, managing to keep dry or clean pants. We had also made it to the amusement park.

When I went on that trip with the club again next summer, Mrs. Davis had scheduled in an extra rest room stop.