Try to take control of the situation

"My, what a big, black cock you have!" you purr, raising your head and smiling up at him. It's now well past dark, and in the dim interior of the bus you can make out little of his appearance other than a dark, weathered face and glinting white eyes and teeth. "But aren't I a little young for a man like you?"

You try to keep your voice calm, even teasing, even though your heart is beating hard in your chest. You heard somewhere that sex predators like all bullies want their victims to be docile and fearful, and so you figure an confident, even assertive, approach may scare this molester off. Unfortunately that means showing an interest in this creepy old pervert... you just hope you can do it...

"Well, I guess you ain't too young to appreciate a nigga cock, blondie..." he said approvingly, carefully putting his arm around you as he continues to stroke himself. "You got a black boyfriend back home, little girl?"

"Like all my friends, I've got a sweet white boyfriend who holds hands with me, takes me to the movies, kisses me goodnight on the doorstep..." you reply wistfully, looking up at him and hoping you'll be able to sell a lie. "But I swallow cum from every black boy on the football team, too. How else can I become head cheerleader on j.v.?"

"How about swallowing mine too, then you little cocksucker?" he suggests, his hand now behind your neck and pulling your head down toward his fuckpole. Trying to steady yourself, you reach out and wrap your hands around the dick, your little white fingers unable to wrap themselves around the mighty ebony shaft.

'It's not working; he seems even more turned on!' you think desperately, licking your lips nervously as you rub your hands up and down his rod, trying to think of another plan. 'Oh Lord, how am I ever going to fit this massive pole in my little mouth?' But as he pushed your head downward, it was clear that the space was too constricted, and he couldn't get you any closer than to brush your nose and lips with precum oozing from the tip.

"Hey, why don't you lie down across the aisle?" you suggest hopefully, noticing a set of unoccupied seats through blonde hair hanging in your face.