Danny Darling Ch. 03

The alarm clock startled me from a deep slumber, and for a brief moment, I was in the clutches of unmitigated fear and panic.

OH NO, my mind screamed. I HAVE TO GET OUT OF THESE PANTIES BEFORE MY MOTHER OR SISTERS CATCH ME!

When I reached over and pushed the button to stop the noisy clock, I was conscious enough to I realize I no longer lived at home. I flopped back down on my belly and waited until I caught my breath.

The front of my panties were crusty with dried semen, but they still felt wonderful against my erection. I ground my penis into the mattress and began my morning ritual.

There simply is no better way to start the day than with a rousing orgasm.

As I slowly moved my penis back-and-forth on the mattress, and the exciting sensations started to grow, I realized something wasn't right; my head snapped to the side and I glared at the clock.

HOLY CRAP---IT'S SEVEN-O'CLOCK!

I'd meant to set the alarm for six.

Normally, I woke-up at seven when I drove to work. There was plenty of time to masturbate then get ready for work. Not now though, I had to catch the seven-twenty-two bus.

I rolled out of bed and hooked my thumbs in the waistband of the panties; they were stuck to my crotch, and it took some effort to peel them away from my skin. I pushed them down, stepped out of them, then opened the bottom drawer of the bureau, and placed them with the other pairs under my sweatpants and tee shirts.

I almost ran to the bathroom. I pissed then jumped into the tub and took a very fast shower.

I pulled on my 'Dullard's' logo work shirt, and one of the three pairs of black pants that I owned; my hair was still damp as I hurried down the street to the bus stop. I made it with ten-seconds to spare. I climbed aboard, paid the fare, and found a seat close to the driver.

Oh darn, I thought. I'd forgotten to pull the bedcovers over the sheet. There was a huge, white splotch of dried you-know-what that sharply contrasted with the royal blue of the sheet.

Relax, John, no one is going to see it, I reassured myself. It's not like I have to hide it from mom.

I was pleasantly surprised by the bus ride. It made too many stops, and it filled to standing-room-only, but all the people seemed normal.

At one point, an older fat lady plopped down on the seat next to me, and I was scrunched against the side of the bus, but it didn't matter.

That's when I noticed the smell. It was coming from my crotch and it was as familiar as the aroma of bacon or coffee in the morning.

Because I hadn't had enough time, I'd done a haphazard job of cleaning myself. Now, some people say dried semen has no smell, but I know from years of experience they are wrong.

The aroma has been described as 'ammonia-like', but to me, and maybe my olfactory senses aren't what they should be, it has the distinct smell of musky, seafood.

And now it was drifting upwards from my crotch and invading my nostrils. Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but I like the smell.

I only hoped the lady next to me didn't notice, but to my horror, she did.

At some point, she turned to me and said, in her best motherly-advice tone of voice, "Boy, you need to consider some serious hygiene improvements in the morning."

My face turned beet-red. I said, "Yes, Maam."

I stared out the window the rest of the time she sat beside me.

The ride was long, but uneventful.

When we arrived at Dullard's, I thought, Danny, this is nothing?your fear-mongering won't work---I can ride the bus for as long as it takes until you change that stupid 'payment plan.'

Jennifer had been partially correct. I did work in the lingerie department, but only half the day. My other department was Beauty