Jenny decides to go for the grades, but safely

Waking the next morning is a little strange. There's no soreness between your legs from Jacob screwing you all night long. You're just rolling out of bed when you remember.

Tyrone.

The remembrance of Jacob's nemesis stops you, but the details seem fuzzy, so you decide to do something that always helps. Getting up you walk over to the stripper pole Jacob once gave you, and after donning the heels from last night - and nothing else - you start a routine composed almost entirely of mashing your bald little pussy against the unforgiving metal pole, scrubbing up and down the slightly rough pole with a bruising ****.

As you whirl, dangle and lick the pole images from last night come back to you. College kids in an SUV, the first blowjob. Tyrone coming along. The second blowjob. Tyrone kicking your cunt.

"Focus," you moan, yanking your pussy away from the pole you'd been humping like a dog. Turning away from the pole you clutch it with your hands to keep them from roaming over your body, and find yourself arching your chest toward the floor-to-ceiling windows and the numerous apartments across the street.

"Exams. Shore. College," you pant, remembering. Foregoing your usual morning routine you settle for a quick wash at the sink, brushing your teeth, a quick application of make-up, then grab the nearest clothes - last night's revealing outfit - and scamper out the door after looking at the bus map to figure out how to get to last night's restaurant. You figure that it's a lot safer to go to the restaurant than it is to go to some seedy, gang-riddled part of town

By the time the bus arrives you're convinced that he must be black, bigger than Jacob (judging by the huge foot), and an athlete of some kind (football, probably).

Fortunately at this time of the day the bus isn't crowded and the bus driver seems happy as a clam talking to you, so you have no trouble confirming the directions, though he does seem to be very distracted.

With the streets nice and clear compared to rush hour you make good time, only to be reminded that buses don't run as often outside of rush hour, and you have to wait awhile for the second bus to arrive. Judging by the number of young guys who have drifted to the bus stop while you waited it's a popular route even at this time. When the bus arrives you find yourself standing amidst them on the bus instead of sitting.

With the dangling straps all taken you're **** to stand almost on your tippy toes, your legs spread for balance and your hands clutching the overhead bar, giving you a view out the window at the back of the bus. Eying yourself in the glass you notice that you'd forgotten to take off the choker collar, giving you a bid of a kinky look.