dirty | collection of one shots.

move those panties to the side

" move those panties to the side so i can show you wassup lil mama. "

THE intoxicated air filled her lungs as she took a long-----and must needed-----inhale of the blunt between her lips, soon releasing the rolled weed from her lips and resting it tightly between her thumb and index finger. In fascination she blew the air out from her lips and watched how the smoky air disappeared right in front of her eyes. She sat outside on her balcony watching all the black kids play outside and all the adults hanging with each other, acting cordial and laughing at who knows what.

All of this brought back the happiest memories in the weirdest way. She remembers being a little girl in the hood, playing with her friends and partaking in activities that she knew that her strict and religious grandmother wouldn't approve; but she did it anyways because it was fun. And plus, she didn't wanna look like a sucker in front of all of her friends.

Years later to the present right now, she was still living in the same hood she grew up in. Myla was just much more older and independent, finally realizing the games of the streets and how the crooked world moves. She graduated highschool just little of two years ago, currently struggling to pay for cosmetology school and trying to balance her life being a young adult. The young woman didn't know how she was still doing it without saying "fuck it" and giving up completely but she was managing the best way she knew how.

Myla leaned back in her dark blue cosy chair, closing her eyes as she took another hit of her blunt, "Jesus christ," she exhaled as she finally opened her eyes again, vision slightly blurry this time, but the view in front of her was just undeniably beautiful.

The sky that was once a pretty vibrant blue color was now turning to a darker blue, hinted with magenta and orange within the mix. Her toes curled up when she felt the cool air hit her body blissfully, allowing her muscles and mind to relax furthermore-----all until her tranquil state was interrupted.

"Aye Myla!" Shouted a masculine, yet so familiar, voice from below her.

"Fuck," the young woman placed her blunt in her ashtray before standing up quickly to her feet, leaning over her balcony to see who was calling her name.

"Sorry, am I bothering you?" The displeased look that Myla had her face is what caused the young man from below to have second thoughts about seeing her. He bit his bottom lip, waiting for an answer.

As much as Myla wanted to tell the truth, she knew that it would scare Brent away, so she lied, "No..but wassup?"

"Can I come chill with you?" Brent asked with a soft tone all while fiddling with his fingers.

"You have a key Brent," Myla groaned as she shook her head at him. "Jesus christ, you could have just came in."

The young black guy knew for sure that he had interrupted her from doing something important which made him feel a bit bad, "I'll come back tomorrow if you-----,"

"No, just come up B," Myla sighs, cocking her head for him come up and seconds later disappearing from the balcony.

"Okay," Brent fixed his hat before he proceeded to walk towards the door, taking the keychain off his neck so he could unlock the door of Myla's apartment. He walked in the two-story apartment and closed the door behind him, soon locking it as well. Soon enough he heard footsteps coming down the stairs that caught his attention. Stepping further into the apartment he saw Myla come down the stairs in nothing but a white spaghetti strapped shirt and poka-dotted underwear snug against her hips.