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Pancakes, Greyhounds, and Virgins

Pancakes, Greyhounds, and Virgins

Sometimes a mask is worn to hide the truth, but why be ashamed

All of us have secrets. We might wear an intangible mask to hide something we think is shameful. Something that we fear would give others reason to mock us, to laugh at us, to expose us as one not really worthy of admiration. We wear that mask to hide a simple truth when it might not even matter at all. How often we fear exposing what is truly of little concern in the broader landscape of this life.

The Greyhound bus left a downtown depot late one evening. David was alone in his seat and on the road once more. He didn't really have enough money to spend the night in a motel. He had convinced Gretchen to lend him enough to purchase a ticket to Denver. He had eaten the potato pancakes at The Original Pancake House in Portland, founded in 1953. He took his one meal in town there with this lady friend. It was the cheapest thing on the menu.

Now was the time to get back to his apartment near the university. That was his home at this point in his life. Just the year before he was discharged from the U.S. Navy after spending four years on active duty. He returned to work towards the degree he had not even been close to completing before. When he was in school the first time, after less than a couple of years, David had bummed out, dropped out, and went into the service. Now, at twenty-six years of age, he was older and more experienced than many of his compatriots in college. But he was still wearing the mask he had worn for years now. 

Darkness draped over the damp, soggy scenery of Portland. The aroma of diesel fumes trailed into his lungs. He didn't mind in the least. That odor always meant mystery and adventure for him. When he reported for duty to the navy he had taken a Greyhound from home up to St. Louis. Many memories came along with that smell, tickling his mind with the sense of this place and others like it over the years.

David and Gretchen had driven all the way out along a scenic route, following the Columbia River Gorge during the last leg, stopping along the way to see a few waterfalls beside the highway. It had been Gretchen's car they drove with him spending over half the time behind the wheel. 

They were just passing into Kansas, crossing over the confluence of the Missouri and the Kaw rivers, when she gave him the first blow job of their travels.

With dexterity and efficiency she leaned over and used her left hand to pull his thigh over towards her so she could unbutton his 501 Levis. Her dainty unpolished fingernails tickled his prick as a small hand fished his boner out. She greedily licked the oozing tip as he steered precariously around the bend in the interstate, up a slope above the rivers, and down onto a prairie area.

He momentarily took note of the gusty wind jiggling the small car and flattening the big bluestem grasses. He then groaned as he let himself fall under her spell of lust. He gripped the steering wheel with his left hand. His right hand twisted into her brown curls, pulling her pink lips to his cock. She expertly stroked his hardness as she tongued and sucked roughly. Her own saliva lubricated him just the way she wanted it. 

David had been rather anticipating this for an hour or so. Gretchen was always so eager for cock sucking. His meat had been sprawled down his left thigh, semi-hard as always when near little Gretchen, where it would not interfere with his maneuvering the vehicle. She kept her head away from the gear shift in the floor, bobbing her face down to take all of him in and dripping her juicy drool about his balls. Her efforts soaked his crotch thoroughly. He was used to that with her. Besides, spit always dried clean.

Finally she had squirmed her body around, sprawled her bent right leg back against the seat, and twisted her cotton panties aside. Under her plaid skirt she fondled her slit to fruition as his spunk spewed out and slightly gagged her. She took it all and sucked him dry. Then she licked him clean, licked her own fingers, and tenderly placed his dick back into his denims with a knowing smirk on her lips.

This little journey had started as a wild temptation. To take a road trip with Gretchen and get to know her much better. She had an internship for the summer waiting for her in Oregon. She didn't care to drive alone. What the hell, he had thought. It was the end of the semester. Finals were over. Summer school was not yet in session. A long drive out to the West Coast sounded like lots of fun. As it often was with David he paid no mind to being dead broke.

Why worry about money. Besides, Gretchen hadn't wanted to travel by herself all that way in her new used car. And her latest boyfriend had gigs playing some Christian folk rock venues over the summer. He wasn't giving her any love right now. David didn't mind filling in as he had many times before. But Gretchen was still the virgin her straight boyfriend thought she was.

It had been diverting. Travel was always pleasurable. They made sure to stop and see some scenery along the way. Jaunting their way across the width of the country and down the Columbia River to Portland. Yes, it had been amusing.  And there was plenty of the best cock sucking David had ever had. Now what?

The day they arrived in Portland they went to the historic first pancake house in the country and he had potato pancakes. That was sort of his way. To do the thing just slightly off. The way he wore his mask in front of anyone he wanted to fool. The undetectable mask that no one actually saw. She dropped him off at the bus depot.

The Greyhound pulled out as Gretchen walked away, simply vanishing into the misty rainfalls of the Northwest.

As the bus driver shifted and moved the bulky vehicle through the evening traffic David checked his pockets again. No matter how much he looked he still had only two dollars and the bus ticket to Denver. Gretchen had been nice enough to buy that for him. With the promise he would pay her back by depositing a check in her account when he arrived home. The trip on the bus would take a couple of days. It meant he was on a diet as of now.

He recalled that his friend Violet lived in Denver. Her father was a lawyer there. They hadn't become an item, she and David, but it had been quite close once upon a time. It would not be too inappropriate to see if he could stay the night with her and, perhaps, borrow a little scratch to get back home.

Was life complicated, or what? He laid his head back on the seat and tried to sleep as the bus quietly rolled along the highway heading eastward.

He finally drifted off into a dream. It took him back to another journey the past summer. Just out of the navy he had decided to check out some relatives back East. Taking a Greyhound out of Springfield was the easiest way to get there without a car. He had spent over a month on that trek and it started out delightfully.

He remembered that her name was Cindy Lou. She was just going up to St. Louis to visit her dad. Something about her folks being divorced. Her mom wouldn't let her drive the three hours up there even though she had just got her license. She smiled shyly when she showed David the new identification with her picture on it. Sixteen years old and going to see daddy. Sweet and giddy as only schoolgirls can be. Especially when they are out on their own for the first time.

It hadn't taken long, sitting way in the back of the bus, to get to know Cindy Lou really well. First, lots of conversation, lots of listening, lots of stories about the navy and college, lots of gossip about her girlfriends and what sluts they were. Before she realized what was going on they were kissing and David could smell the cherry cough drop odor on her breath. HIs hand drew hers over to rub his hard on in his pants. She hesitated just a little. "No, please, Mister." He smiled as he let go of her hand then kept kissing her. She moaned, reached over, and started exploring the length and girth of his dick with a tentative hand.

Quickly, as he kept kissing her chapsticked lips, his fingers skittered up her skirt and found the wetness he knew was there. He spread those lower lips apart while kissing and tonguing her. Being as gentle as he needed to be. "You're so nasty, Mister," she whispered in his ear. "Do that some more. Ohmigod, you're such perv!"

David never considered pulling his prick out for himself. He let her test the waters with the older guy as she tried to show him she knew what she was doing. What she did was lovely as far as he was concerned. She continued to rub him slowly, then briskly, and he came in his pants with her last firm grip of his dick. 

She pussy was coming on his slippery fingers as they entered the erratic traffic of St. Louis and they had to finally pull apart. The smell of her young cunny drifted up into his nostrils. People stood up to look out the windows to see how close they were to the Greyhound station and pointed a the Gateway Arch. She muttered once more just before she arose to leave the bus, "I wish you could have been my first fuck, Mister." She smiled at him as she skipped down the steps of the bus and gathered her bag from the driver.

That dream dissolved into the past. And his mask was still in place after this current trip across the western states. 

David shook himself awake as he lost the dream of Cindy Lou. Looking out into the darkness he could see dots of light in the yards of the ranch houses they were passing. There is nothing so lonesome feeling as a single speck of light almost swallowed by the obscurity that can almost lose you there on the wide prairie. He rubbed his eyes, scratched his two day growth, and curled up on the seat. Soon the swaying of the bus put him back to sleep. 

In the morning they pulled into at a combination gas station and restaurant to eat and take on board new passengers. He had chatted with a fellow rider earlier as the sun rose. He had revealed his adventures, if you could call them that. In any case, the guy had generously given him a buck to help him along the way. That was kind. Truly. Now he got a single candy bar to appease his appetite. He climbed back onto the bus and waited for it to depart.

By the time they pulled into the Greyhound terminal in downtown Denver he was ready to call Violet and see if he could spend the night with her family. He knew they lived in a rather nice brick home on the west side of the city. She and David had made a road trip out earlier that past semester during spring break and spent a weekend in the foothills of the Rockies along with two other college students.

Violet was naturally generous. It's why she was becoming an elementary school teacher. She had completed working on an associate's degree at her junior college. The university was fortuitously in the same town. That's where they had met, at a coffeehouse just off the university campus. She was enrolled in the school of education for the coming fall.

David called her from the phone booth at the bus station. He was lucky that she was home to answer. He could feel her smile over the phone as she told him she'd be there in fifteen minutes. That was just Violet's way. 

He had been wearing his mask when they met at the coffeehouse. She had taken to the older, more experienced man she met. She was in her second year of junior college just a few blocks away. With her smiles he knew they had a connection so he made a date to meet the next day. 

David and Violet had lunch at the International House of Pancakes just off-campus. It was a favorite spot because most students then didn't have cars. Neither of them had a vehicle. It was close to both campuses, within walking distance of many student residential halls and private apartment buildings.

Violet just ordered some scrambled eggs and toast. David had coffee with cream and sugar. And a blueberry muffin slathered in butter. No pancakes were harmed in the making of this date.

After spending lots of time in the IHOP talking and getting to know each other much better they were soon walking hand in hand across Peace Park. As soon as they got to the grass Violet took her sandals off to go bare footed. When they got to the middle of the park they stopped and David dropped down onto the freshly mowed greenery. She quickly joined him, smiling. It was a good spot, right under an ancient sycamore tree with its bark peeling off like a natural mask being discarded.

David maintained the secrecy of his personal mask, continuing to present his front of maturity and experience.

They began kissing out there on the warm grass. When they had laid down he gently but persistently pressed his thigh into her crotch and she sighed. Then she kissed him harder and humped up into his leg. She was terribly thirsty for this he could tell. So was he. David could care less about any students that might notice the two of them out there in the open. He rubbed his hardness against her and felt the warmth of her pussy pressed tightly to his urgent muscles.

David was horny. He always was. His need was urgent and he felt that she had just as much desire herself from the way she whimpered into his shoulder. It was only after several minutes of dry fucking before he shot out his semen into his boxer shorts. Violet mewled softly into his chest. He knew she was having a trembling orgasm as he kept massaging his thigh against her virgin femininity. This must be her first time like this. He could tell.

They glanced up to the applause of a group of male students. They had been working there in the park with a some surveying equipment. Violet was crimson with her blushing. David just grinned, helped her up, and they walked away. 

His mask was not necessarily as natural as the one worn by that trysting tree but he retained it as he had for many years. He felt the familiar sticky wetness in his crotch. That was no matter. It had happened so many times before. 

That was his first memory of sensuality with Violet. Now he was in the Mile High City, just leaving another Greyhound bus station. Violet had picked him up and was driving them to the western suburbs of the metro area. Upon arriving at her home he was impressed by the grandeur. Her parents were both quite successful.

That night David was placed in a guest room. Violet spent about an hour there with him as he lolled on the bed. It might have seemed strange but he knew that her father was away for the weekend and he knew Violet had "issues" with her mother. They had talked about it enough for him to know she liked to push her boundaries with her mother. One border she had not crossed, though, was the matter of her virginity. Violet was keeping that for the right guy. 

He was startled awake by a hand on his face. Just a slight glow of moonlight came through an open window, along with the odor of warm conifers on the breeze. Then her smiling face moved down and kissed his lips. Violet's lips were just as he remembered them from last time. So soft and redolent of the lipstick she often used.

Then it became clear, as she snuggled into bed with him, that she was wearing only a satiny kind of nightgown. And nothing under it. She giggled as her hands pulled his boxer shorts down over his knees. He was stiff, of course. And her hands were squeezing him as she sat back on her knees, watching and hoping she was doing it right. It was just right for David.

He struggled to move up onto the headboard and enjoyed the view of Violet jacking off his hard one. Her legs were spread apart, giving him plenty of access to her pussy, and his fingers began playing her instrument. David was a virtuoso of this kind of play. Hand play was his forte, on himself and on all of the girls he had found who needed such fiddling. 

Her ample breasts dangled temptingly, like fruit that needed to be harvested, and he fondled each one with his free hand, never stopping the exploration of her wetness. Her hand kept clenching and gripping his prick as she watched his face. She was making sure he liked it. She carefully massaged his balls as well. He certainly did enjoy it, as always when a feminine hand massaged his manhood.

Such a serious look was on her face at this moment. He put a hand behind her neck, pulled her head to him, and kissed her lips once more. Her caressing of his hardness didn't stop. She was determined to complete this act of desire. And he kissed her with enduring fondness while pressing two fingers into her virgin pussy. He suddenly groaned, His member began spurting up. His semen landed all over her nightgown and spilled down over her hand. She stifled a laugh, knowing her mother was just down the hall.

Violet went into the guest bathroom and came out with a damp cloth to clean him up.

"Did you come, too, hon?" He was wanting to be sure she had fun, as well. That was David's way. Other guys had laughed at him for worrying about that. That was just one more reason he kept wearing his mask.

But Violet only smiled and leaned down to kiss him. She said goodnight and quickly went back to her room before her mother heard anything. David drifted off to sleep deeply. 

In the morning her mother handed him twenty dollars to get his ticket out of Denver and back home. She waved away his thanks. "It's fine, young man. I know you'll repay it when Violet returns to the university in August." He nodded with some guilt. He felt even more remorse when Violet stopped at another Original Pancake House. He had no idea what their story was here. He didn't really care. 

He had coffee and French toast, thanking her again.
An hour later they waited for David to board the bus at the station. He kissed Violet good bye and waved to his new girlfriend as he passed down the aisle of the bus to an open seat. Diesel smell followed them as they shifted and moved through the traffic. He was still wearing his mask of experience. The mask that hid the reality of his own virginity. Twenty-six years old. A grown man who was still a virgin.

The girls he knew weren't ashamed to be virgins. He wondered why he should be.

He sat back as this Greyhound moved farther and farther from this bus depot. And closer to one more.



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Copyright © Copyright © 2012 - {2019} Lorenzo Abajos. All rights reserved. This written or audio or visual work may not be reproduced or distributed or published in any form without the express permission of the author. Send requests to

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