young hearts. // dallas winston

p r o l o g u e

she slips on the tight
black dress once more.
it still smells still like the
last time she wore
the dreaded leather.
she wondered if her
son associates the
smell of sex with his
own mother. just thinking
about her profession
made her ashamed
of herself. yet still she
did it for him. it was
all for him.

he was drunk and bored.
his friends had enough of
him and he had enough of
his friends. he dragged
himself through the streets
and to the familiar party
scene he was so often a
part of.

she entered the large house
and looked around for a
willing buyer. she spots him.

he looks over and sees
a broad in a tight black
dress. he felt like he
recognized her, but in his
drunk state he couldn't
pin point where from.

she remembered him.
how is it that when
she ran this far away
from home she encounters
someone who is nearly
irrelevant to her past?
nonetheless, she looked
beyond the memories.
but instead saw an
opportunity she could
take. did he too
remember like she did?

he gazed her body up
and down, she sure was
sexy. when he's drunk
that's about the only thing
that runs through his mind.

lucky for her.

she approached him, he
grew excited. it didn't take
long before they both made
their way to where they were
so used to their nights ending.

This is where our story begins