He had a soft touch. I was so afraid. I had never been this close to anything sexual before. He pulled me into his arms. This was not supposed to happen.
I remained in the back seat of the car. He reached behind me and locked the other door. “I love you.” He tells me. “No one knows we are here.”
I have no where to go. He took his fingers and turned my face toward him. He places his lips on mine.
This was my church bus driver. I was fourteen and thought that I loved his son. This was not the way I dreamed of having my first kiss.
We finally went into his house. I thought that I would be safe there. I looked past him. On a small table was a open pocket knife.
He noticed where my focus had gone. “You can if you want he says. No one would blame you, but I would die with you knowing that I love you.”
The door opened. His son walked into the room. I wish that he would have been my first kiss. I had spent the last two years imaging kissing him.
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