The Man on the Bus
                              ------------------
                              by Jerry T. Ramsey

   Well, I had been given only about enough money to buy as many meals as my
mother thought (by calculating the days times the times I would like to eat
per day) I needed.  I was instructed to not waste a bunch of my money on
candy and other junk food, but to save it until I could have a good and
complete meal.  I was to use only the restaurants in the bus stations, not
go outside and wander around finding other ones (or other things - my mom
did know me pretty well).

   Since my birthday was going to elapse during my trip, she packed an extra
couple of king sized Snickers bars into the handbag she had bought me just
for that special day.  (She bought a handbag for each of us five kids - four
boys, one girl for the trip to Springfield, Ohio only a little over a year
prior to this and mine at least was still as good as new).

   She wrote out a little bus schedule for me on a small notebook she sent
with me.  It detailed the gates, bus numbers, and the boarding times for
each part of the journey through 9 states and even gave me information on
what would be available at each bus station so I could adequately space out
my meals, taking advantage of the best each station had to offer.

   My mother sure did do her homework.  She was always (and still is) a very
loving mother to me, but she was just too young back when she had us kids to
know what to do.  She did learn though as time dragged on, but she had no
help from her parents or grandparents and even got no help from any of the
fathers of us kids.  She sure could pick some real winners in those days!

   I would say it must have been about halfway across the distance that I
met up with this wino that boarded the bus.  I had spent my dinner money on
a friction-powered metal toy Greyhound bus in the Omaha station and so I
knew I had better not spend any of the next day's food money on something to
eat.

   Well, this old man had almost nothing with him, but I could tell he had
something to eat in his overcoat pockets.  He was sitting next to me not
saying a word, but he was munching on some snacks he was pulling from his
coat pocket.  I must have been staring at him as he ate or something because
he noticed me and asked me if I had any food as well as whether I was
hungry.

   I told him my mother had given me the money to eat and I wanted the toy
bus more so I bought it instead of a dinner and that I had to go hungry just
until the morning when I'd be able to eat again.

   He asked me where I was going as he pulled out a small loaf of french
bread and a small package of cheddar cheese.  He proceeded to make me a
small sandwich and I remember thanking him as he handed it to me.  He said
he didn't have much, but I looked like I needed it worse than he did (I was
very skinny at that age) and I felt really bad about taking this poor (it
was obvious to me that he was poor) man's food, but I was so hungry that I
took the sandwich he gave me and two more like it.

   He asked me if I was thirsty and I was.  He only had wine on him, so he
poured me a little of it (it was Thunderbird apple wine) into the lid from
the wine bottle and gave it to me, but he told me to sip at it and not to
drink it like it was water.  I remember how hard it was not to do that since
I was so thirsty, but I did sip at it and found that it got me through one
whole sandwich and part of the way through the second one.  I asked him for
more and he gave it to me.

   I was happy to have this new friend to keep me company one the bus.  I
had been sitting in the very first seat on the passenger side (near the
door) on each bus up until now, but we were sitting in the last row on the
driver side of the bus now.

   I was able to finish the sandwiches on the second capful of Thunderbird
and then I began to get sleepy (wine will do that to a kid).  The man (I
never asked his name and he never gave it to me) saw this and he pulled me
over to him and allowed me to lean against his side as I laid there.  I
slipped in and out of consciousness at least a few times as I recovered from
the booze and the full belly I felt.

   At some point he put his arm around me and was soon fondling my hair and
face, then my little arms and shoulders.  I don't remember just how long
this went on, but I do remember thinking to myself about how I wish I hadn't
had the wine so I would be more alert.  I felt like I wanted to enjoy this
attention to the fullest and for all it was worth.

   During this time, the man asked me if I was okay and if it was okay for
him to touch me in this way.  He wanted to know if he scared me or bothered
me in some way.  I said, "Are you crazy?" and then laid my head back down,
which was by this time closer to his lap than his side.  I then picked up
the one hand of his that I could reach and placed it on my chest for him.  I
wanted to make this easier for him.

   I could tell he was enjoying this fondling as much as I was.  I knew
little about sex at this time, but I knew what felt good to me and I could
sure use some of that!

   I was 14, but I looked more like 8 or 10.  I was always small, skinny,
and lightweight for my age.  Sexually, I was the equivelent (mentally) of
about 6 or 8.  I was always very bright (so I have always been told) but
where sex was concerned, I was pretty innocent except for the few boy-boy
and man-boy experiences I had up to this point in my life.

   The man acted as though he was afraid to do much to me, and I was so
starved for this kind of contact that I had to do something.  I kept moving
his big and heavy hand on my chest and arms.

   Finally, I got enough of this and told him not to worry and that I was
liking this and I also told him that nobody would ever do this kind of thing
with me and I thought I would like it.

   He began to feel more comfortable about touching me and I then told him
that it was okay with me if he wanted to do more.  I even at some point
tried to place his hand on my leg after sitting up and getting as close to
him as I could.

   I was glad we were sitting in the very back of the bus across from the
potty where nobody could see us unless they were on their way to or from
using the bathroom.  Even then, I knew I could easily hear them approaching
and would have plenty of time to prepare.

   It wasn't long before this man was at ease with me enough to start
rubbing my legs and belly.  I told him that it felt really good.  I got a
really solid hard-on about this time and the man knew it.  He couldn't stand
it any longer and so began to fondle (massage really) my little penis.

   He looked down at me as if to try to read a reaction and I smiled right
back at him.  This seemed to please the man (probably in his late 30's or
early 40's) and he smiled back at me kindly.

   He was shy and quiet but I thought I was beginning to understand him.  He
had nobody to be with and looked so lonely to me.  I never asked him about
his life, where he was headed, or anything else.  I was satisfied just for
his temporary friendship.

   Well, to make a long story a little less longer than I could, this man
ended up masturbating me slowly and softly and I had several orgasms with
him.  He didn't do anything other than to give me pleasure, but he did seem
to derive pleasure of his own out of this experience even though he never
exposed or handled himself in front of me.

   He did kiss me lightly a few times and tell me how nice I was of a boy.
He even told me that he wishes we could somehow meet each other again.

   I think I might have made his day (all for the total cost of 6 slices of
half-dried french bread, some stale cheddar cheese, and two capfuls of
Thunderbird wine), and he gave me something to eat and a little pleasure to
help me get through mine.  An even trade in my book.