The bus driver was tall, probably 6’3. He was a bald, heavy set, older white guy with a round stomach in his late 50’s I assumed. He pushed his th...ck, hardening cock into my face as I struggled to get up. His sick smile widened even more at my fear and surprise. “Suck it,” he commanded, pressing himself against my cheek with a deep, dark tone. “Don’t even think about screaming. No one is on this side of the school to hear you.” At that moment, I had a choice to make. Scream or suck? This guy’s. Where I hurt the most. Your presence will keep humming through me.Your locks almost tickle my face with their silken softness as I breathe the scent in. That's why jasmine, gardenias, and violets remind me of you. That, and rain in autumn. The subtle sweetness of wet leaves scattered over the damp earth. Dusk and storms. Summer heat lighting, blinding and beautiful. All things nocturnal. They are all you to me.But we'll go back to our lives from here. To continue what we have, some things have. More

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