When I started school I did littleelse but watch the little girls and long to be one of them. Theirdresses fascinated me. Their red and white and yell...w tights fascinatedme. Their voices, and habits, and mannerisms - everything they did orwore or talked about seemed wonderful to me. My world was bleak incomparison. Blue jeans and a flannel shirt or polyester slacks and abuttoned up short-sleeved shirt? No, thank you. I might as well havebeen wearing burlap bags for all the comfort they gave me.. The freak show of a woman having an orgasm on the bus was not a part of the schedule. He had thick, wavy, black hair. One lock of hair always threatened to fall to his forehead. Oh, how I wanted to run my fingers through his hair while I kissed his luscious lips. I could imagine taking first his bottom lip and then his top lip into my mouth. Oh, this train of thought was going to get me into trouble! Last Friday the bus was a little more packed than usual. I got on the bus and moved towards the. More

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