On the Morning Bus

A cold breeze swirls through the fading darkness and I shiver as I huddle around my travel mug of coffee and brood silently. This is ridiculous, I think. I'm eighteen years old. I should be allowed to drive myself to school. But no, Mom and Dad don't want to pay for the extra car insurance so I'm forced to schlep back and forth on the big yellow monster like a child. While all my other senior classmates will soon be pouring themselves out of a warm bed and into a warm car, I'm stuck standing out here in the dark for nearly an hour every morning. It's November in North Carolina, which means bright, brisk daylight hours and close to freezing between dust and dawn. Don't get me wrong, I like cold weather. You can add and remove layers of clothing to your heart's content to adjust your body temperature. But when it's six-fifteen am on a Monday morning and the thermometer struggled to reach thirty-five the night before and you've been outside for this long, nothing can make you feel warm.

I clutch the travel mug tightly with one gloved hand and reach up with the other to pull my hood around my head as another gust of wind rushes past us. I'm not alone at my bus stop. For the past three years, I have been sharing the sidewalk corner of Jazmine's house with Randy who lives one street up from me, Callie from three blocks in the other direction but walks to our stop so she won't have to be by herself, Denny whose mom's lavender house is diagonally across from mine, and Danielle who is Denny's sister but won't admit it. Jazmine used to go to our school, but she transferred to a private school. We occasionally see her in the mornings if her dad is running late. Alice, Bethany, and Crystal are the newest additions to our stop. Alice is new to the school, Bethany was new last year, and Crystal's parents moved from the next neighborhood over so she didn't have to change schools.

"Ugh, I hate the cold!"

I turn to see Danielle stomping through the dried leaves that covered Mr. Davis' yard, her arms wrapped around her violently green parka. Denny follows a few steps behind her and has his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his black Tripp pants. Red metal chains hanging from the pants legs jingle as he walks. He stops beside me, slings his backpack to the ground, and flicks his chin upwards.

"Hey."

"Hey."

He's at least four inches taller than me in the heavy boots that he always wears. Denny looks back at me through soft brown eyes and a thick ring of black eyeliner and smiles as he digs through his pockets. Extending his arm, he flips open a cigarette pack with his thumb and raises an eyebrow. I shrug and accept the offered chance to smoke, lighting it with the battered Zippo he holds out.

"That is so gross," I hear Bethany's voice announce as she stalks up the sidewalk towards us. Her long blonde hair flaps wildly in the wind and the heels of her camel knee-high boots click loudly on the concrete. Alice trails after her, struggling to carry a huge project.

"What's it to ya?" Crystal asks as strolls over and she takes up her post beside Denny. "Lemme get one." We turn away from the others and huddle together against the cold

"Steph, you know your mom will kill you if she sees you smoking," Randy says to me as he and Alice join the group. He must've stopped to help her carry her project. I barely hear her softly thank him as they set it gingerly on the sidewalk.

I shrug one shoulder and flick the cigarette ash in the direction of my house.

"Well then I guess it's lucky for me that Mom already left for work," I say with a smirk.

He strolls over to us as Alice drifts off towards Bethany and Danielle. Denny offers him a cigarette but he declines with a shake of his head. We hear a squeaking, rumbling noise nearby and everyone turns to see the bus rambling closer. Randy pulls back his jacket cuff just long enough to check his watch. 6:25 am.

"Wow, since when has that thing ever been on time?" he asks in mock surprise. Looking down the block in the other direction, he wonders aloud where Callie is.

"Marcus has been driving her lately," Bethany says, curling up her nose. She and Danielle giggle behind their hands.

Bus 258 pulls to a shrill stop and the flashing lights are nearly blinding in the remnants of the night. Bethany and Danielle board in a close pair and Alice begins to follow them. Denny and I go to help her carry her project, but Randy waves us towards the bus.

"Should've left this stupid thing at home," I hear Alice mutter as we walk past.

"Nah, I got you," Randy says as he helps her lift it.

As I reach the top of the stairs, I look up to see absolutely no empty seats left and very few that have room for another person. I take a few tentative steps forwards, weighing my options. Just as Denny's boots thud up behind me, I spot a seat. At first I'd thought it was empty, but the person curled up in the blue faux-leather bench is sitting up just enough for a mop of thick black hair to show over the top of the seat in front. I head towards the seat and look down at the sleeping occupant.

Grant was nineteen and the school's resident bad boy with the perfect combination of chiseled features, piercing baby green eyes, and a record spanning back to middle school. He sold pot on campus, got arrested sophomore year for stealing his mom's car, and had no interest in continuing his education. He'd said once that sticking around for a second senior year was just so he could put off getting a job even longer. But despite his "bite me" attitude, he was genuinely good guy. We'd met as freshmen when one of his friends stole my bike near the end of the school year and he'd made the guy bring it back to me, with a black eye. Then that summer he helped me train my new puppy. Now she is a very obedient three year old mutt who tackles him whenever I walk her by his house. He was usually very chatty with me but today he slumps back against the window with his black leather jacket held tight around his torso and his feet on the seat cushion. The blinking lights of the bus reflect off a thin strip of metal that curves across the top of his head and Slipknot blares through the foam earpieces of his headphones.

"Grant," I say, nudging his leg. "Grant, can you move over? I need to sit down."

He doesn't budge so, with three people and a giant art project looming behind me, I slap his knee. He jerks back and flicks his head to the side, tossing his long black bangs out of his eyes.

"Hey fuck off!" Sitting up, Grant looks up at me and rubs an eye with the heel of his hand. "Oh...Hey, Steph," he says quietly. "My bad."

Scooting back and turning to face the front of the bus, he takes my hand and pulls me down into the seat. My thigh slides past his as I sit and his arm wraps around my shoulders. I feel the bus lurch forward and his hand trailing in my hair. The other begins to slide up my thigh, slowly getting higher. I turn towards him and he catches my face in his hands and kisses me. I kiss him back for a moment, bewildered. As the bus lurches forward, I relax into the kiss deepening it. My hands are behind his head and my fingers are in his thick hair as I kiss him back, matching the movements his tongue makes. He suddenly turns his head just enough that the kiss breaks as quickly as it began, but he doesn't release me. A heartbeat's time passes as we look at each other through his bangs, his pale eyes searching mine. I can see a questioning in his gaze. Was I okay with this? In response, I tilt my head to the side and pull him back, pressing my lips against his. I feel him smile as he takes that for what it is, a definite yes.

Grant twists halfway towards me in the seat and his hands cradle my face as I brace myself with my hand against his chest. I lean into him and softly moan. I can feel his heart beating rapidly. His lips are so soft and the sensations of his pierced tongue sliding past mine sends tingles racing up and down my spine. It's dark enough on the bus that no one can really see what's going on, or at least no one has said anything. He wraps one arm around my waist and the other drapes behind my back as his hand tangles in my hair.

I let my hand drift down Grant's chest to his waist, then further to the growing stiffness that's straining against his jeans. He sighs into my mouth when I gently apply pressure to it. The hand behind my head clenches into a fist around a handful of my long curls. I moan softly against his shoulder as he turns my head, deftly removes my earring, and bites down on my earlobe. I rub my palm in small circles over his hard cock, occasionally applying pressure or giving it a gentle squeeze. He kisses down my neck to my collarbone. Holding my hair tightly Grant drags the fingertips of his other hand down my throat and over the front of my sweater, pausing at my breasts. He quickly slips his hand up under the sweater and under my bra. His warm hand cups my breast and he flicks the pad of his thumb across my nipple.

Drawing back, I look at him and feel an expression of surprise spring to my eyes. He gives me a wicked grin and pinches the nipple hard, twisting it. I gasp sharply and bite my lip to try to stay quiet. I don't want to draw any attention to what we're up to. It's getting lighter outside, and inside the bus. I lean towards him and press my lips against his. His mouth opens for my tongue and, as his touch glides down over my abdomen to the waistband of my jeans, my legs part for his hand. Lifting me up onto his lap, Grant shoves a hand down in the front of my jeans and slowly slides one long finger into the warm dampness he finds between my legs.

"Holy shit," he breathes against my neck. "It's so tight!" Craning his neck, he locks eyes with me. His icy green gaze is intense. "Are you a...?"

I nod. He gives me a half smile.

"Would you like me to fix that for you, Stephanie?" he purrs into my hair, curling his finger inside me and brushing my clit with his thumb.

I struggle to keep quiet.

"Maybe later," I moan.

I am suddenly unsure of what to do. Hormones can only take you so far. I guess I froze because Grant quickly withdrew his hand from my jeans and curled his fingers around my hips.

"Like this," he says, rocking my hips slightly back and forth. He pulls my pelvis down and presses his upwards. I can feel his very hard, very big cock pressing against my ass. The thought of him inside me sends static electricity along my spine.

I continue to rock my hips back and forth slowly, grinding against the incredibly big bulge in his lap. He keeps one hand in my jeans and the other goes back into my hair. He flicks his finger in me and rubs my clit harder and faster. I try to pick up the pace a bit and he responds by pressing up harder but the sensations growing in my body are too strong to ignore. He buries his face in the curve of my neck, kissing the soft, sensitive skin. Grant pauses to suck on my ear, then lets his teeth brush against my neck as he resumes kissing in a line back and forth from the tip of my shoulder to behind my ear, sometimes nipping and other times sucking the skin. He slides his finger from my soaking slit and inserts a second, alternating between them as he rubs circles on my clit. I completely loose all control. I feel as if my body is on fire and about to explode. The bus slows sharply and I look out the window just in time to see that we are at a red light, a block away from the school.

Adrenaline washes through my body, drowning out the heat within me, and I slap his leg a couple times to get his attention. Grant looks up as the light turns green and the bus begins to move. It is fully light outside now. Everyone around us can see, although no one seems to be looking. But we still have to stop. He must be able to see the panic in my eyes because he lifts me slightly as if to set me back in the seat. He lets go of my hair and begins to pull his hand out of my jeans. But just as the bus is pulling into the parking lot, he slides his hand forward and drives three fingers deep into my virgin pussy, twists a few times, then pulls away completely. The bus shrieks to a stop and he leans forward to retrieve my backpack from under the seat in front of us, licking his fingers with a wink.