The Girl in the Window

I washed my bed sheets. There was something wrong with them. Well, if my mama told it, they were better off trashed. But something was off that time. The smell wasn’t right. Too much cheap perfume or musty cologne. And it felt like the vivid sienna spot became a lackluster stain. It made me fear sleeping on my bed. It was worth hiding. Too much dirt and funk lingering in the air. So I cleaned the sheets. Took a lot of bleach to renew the permanent stain, but it was good enough to be considered a “recycled canvas”.

The last time I got any cutty was from Gero, almost a month ago. I came to his house like he asked. First we talked about shit I can’t remember, that probably had no significance. I told him he smelt good, and his skin looked smooth. He complimented back. But I got sick of the small talk.

“Look Gero, no offense, but I’m jus’ tryna fuck.” I was blunt about it.

“Damn, I’m happy you said it first. The couch or my bed?” By that time I was so horny, I didn’t give a fuck where. He chose the floor. He put it down better than I thought he would. Had me shaking and calling his name. He even tried to put my legs in all these crazy positions that I wasn’t flexible enough to get into. But we rolled with it anyway.

Next thing I knew, someone came into the house. I jumped up and ran into his bathroom. It was his older brother.

“Uh oh. Lil nigga gettin’ some pussy.” Then he was gone. Then we fucked some more in the bathroom before I bounced.

All was good until I was walking home. Felt ashamed again. Who the fuck was Gero? I didn’t know anything about the guy. He could have been a serial killer for all I knew. He could have had STDs, and although we used protection, it didn’t excuse my carelessness.

So since then I’d been dependent on my finger and thumb. It wasn’t as satisfying so I had been torturing my G-spot, and mutilating my clit. I wanted to have the feel of a dick or tongue back, but I was forcing myself through detox. What was the point of me fucking around just to feel ashamed about it at the end, and then do it all again? My finger would have to do.

For the time being I was trying to figure out how I was going to get rid of Jim. He was in the house way more than usual and he was beginning to move his things in. He had yet to bother me until one Friday night.

It was around seven o’clock. My ma was out doing some wedding shopping, leaving me home with Jim and the young ones. Jim was doing what he did best, watching TV and I was singing softly while washing the dishes. My hands had been swollen by that point because I had lost track of time. I didn’t really care. Jim was drinking beer and burping up beer bubbles. Then he would laugh at something funny, causing an eruption in his stomach and a tsunami with the beer. If he was out of the picture, the scene would have been perfect. I had a knife in my hand, but I wasn’t insane. The fat bastard kept flexing his toes like they were tight. It didn’t bother me until he said something about it.

“Damn, my feet feel like hell. Hey Shade, you think you can massage them for me?” Nigga what? I thought. But instead I said:

“No. I’m not a massage therapist.”

“Damn, can you ever do something fo’ me?”

Damn, can you ever leave me the fuck alone?

“Not massage yo’ feet. Nobody massages feet ‘round here.”

“I can massage yo’s.”

Touch my feet and I’ll kick it so far in yo’ mouth the only jam you’ll know is toe.

“I’ll pass on that--” you sick mothafucka.

“You right. I’m sure you get plenty foot massages.” Then he laughed, leading to a choke, and more burps.

And I’m sure you know about dis long dick in yo’ mouth. I didn’t reply to his rude remark. That crusty, nasty nigga had pulled the final string. I let out the water in the sink and finished rinsing the dishes. I walked past him in the family room, but not fast enough. He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him, causing me to sit on his lap.

“Come on Shade, stop playin wit’ me and gimme what I need.” I fought him to get up.

“No! Fuck off!” I got up and ran before his drunk ass did something else crazy. But I stopped briefly at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m tellin’ my ma.”

“Like she’ll believe you. We all know you easy.”

“Fuck you, you fat nigga.” By the look on his face, I knew I had done wrong. I ran the other direction, towards the door, and his sloppy fat ass tried to run after me. But I was much faster and sober than him. I ran out the door before he could stumble over the welcome mat. Took hold of the door frame before he fell to his death.

“Fuckin’ ho. Prolly got a wide mouf pussy noway!” His words came out in a slur.

The adrenaline rush I had kept me from realizing I had no shoes on until I stepped on a broken glass bottle on the street. Stumbled a little, trying to catch my ground. My butt met the ground after a while to check out my foot. The shard of glass in my foot wasn’t that large, so it didn’t cause that much damage. I pulled it out of my foot and watched as my blood oozed like syrup down my foot. I wiped it off and limped in the grass. Should have known better than to run barefoot in the streets of the hood.

The only place I knew I could take refuge was Sasha’s house. She was usually open to me when I needed a place to crash. Of course I would run into Darnell many times and it made me question the severity of his parent’s problems.

“Damn girl, thought you was 5-0 or somethin’.” She was wearing a skirt regardless of the chilly weather, and a V-neck long sleeve shirt. Her legs looked long, smooth and beautiful. Damn this detox, I thought.

“What you doin’ here? Come in.” I limped in. “Damn Shade, what you do?”

“Ran from home.”

“Why?”

“Wanted to get away.”

“Jesus, and yo’ foot is bleeding. Sit down on the couch.” The house was silent. Inevitably, Darnell was in the family room. He was reading a book. It was something that I didn’t see many people do around where we lived. It almost looked off to me. I read a lot, but never around other people. He was into the book too. He was leaned over the front of the couch with his elbows rested on his knees. The look of him reading was very powerful to me, almost seductive. I was in a room full of temptation.

Sasha came back to the room with a small tub of water with suds.

“Nah, you don’t have to do all of dat,” I said.

“Girl, don’t worry ‘bout it. ‘Sides, you can catch a disease in dese nasty ass streets.”

“You’re right. I don’t wanna die.” Darnell was inside the book. His body was just a dequoy. I slowly placed my feet into the water. The cut on my foot burned from the heat and the soap she put in the water. Her hands softly rubbed the dirt off of my feet. The water turned to an eraser pink color. Then she massaged my feet. The irony.

“Darnell,” I said very lightly. Just when I thought he didn’t hear me, his eyes shifted up.

“Yeah?” My words got stuck for a second, like I was stupid.

“Uh... what book are you reading?”

“Let the Dead Bury their Dead.”

“Oh... what story are you on?” He looked at me for a bit, like he was assuming something.

“What Are Days.” I repeated the title softly. Read the book last year out of curiosity. Lorraine took an African American literature class the year before and had the book assigned to her. She said she wasn’t going to read it, so I read it for her. It was an amazing book. One of the best things to come out of someone from North Carolina, right next to J. Cole. What Are Days was a story about an elder women having an affair with a nineteen year old boy who really didn’t exist. It’s some crazy shit.

“Yeah, he read twenty-four seven an’ act like nothin’ else matter when he here,” Sasha said.

“What ‘bout you?” She laughed.

“Girl nah. Most I read is microwave directions.” I smiled, not really meaning it. “Darnell been tryin’ to get me to but I’s too boring to me.” I blocked what she was saying and looked at her. Seeing her on her knees before me gave me a sense of power that turned me on. Stared at where her skirt hiked up, wishing it would go higher. Then I peeped her cleavage and the slight jiggle of her breasts as she moved around.

“Damn Shade, you got some nice ass feet. Can’t be fuckin’ em up like dis.” Just to play with fire, she moved her hands up my legs. She got to my thighs and started massaging them. Felt good and got the juices flowing. And that horrible urge to touch came. I looked up to see Darnell catching a look. But after a good look, he looked away like a one year sober alcoholic looking away from a drink. I took hold of her wrists, reluctantly, and pushed her away.

“Not today.”

“Damn... but it’s Friday.”

“It’s that time of the month.” When I needed to lie, it came out good. My period was almost nonexistent because of my birth control. She leaned back, took a look at Darnell, then looked back at me.

“Well that sucks. Ain’t had shit for like a month and before you, five.” I snickered, then kissed her on the forehead, soft as a feather.

“Me neither.” I took my feet out and placed them on the towel. “Thanks for my feet though, Sasha.”

“Wait, lemme fix your cut.” Had almost forgot about it. She came back with some gauze and neosporin. She treated it then wrapped it neatly.

“You know how to take care of a nigga.” She laughed.

“Dere you go again talkin’ like a guy.” I smiled.

“I’m half guy.” She took the towel and dirty water away. I tried hard not to look at Darnell. We could have just had a threesome on the spot. But I was “on my period” and Darnell didn’t look interested. He was studying the book and nothing else mattered. I wanted to sit next to him and read the book with him. Sasha came back and sat next to me on the couch.

“You’re here ‘cause of Jim, ain’t you?” I sighed. “When you gonna tell me what’s wrong wit’ him?”

“I don’t wanna talk about Jim.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“It ain’t dat. I jus’ don’t wanna talk about Jim.” She sighed. Darnell squeezed the book in his hand, causing it to roll up and set it down. He looked at the floor for a while. I wanted to talk to him, tell him something about anything. But I didn’t know what, especially not with Sasha around. Had never been in a place alone with him other than that one time.

“I’s kinda boring,” Sasha said. “What you been doin’ lately?”

“Nothin’ but writing.”

“Oh yeah, wit’ yo’ good lyrics. Can you sing a song?” I felt weird about Darnell being around while singing. Just being around him was weird enough.

“Nah, can’t sing it. But I’ll recite some.”

“Comeon girl, why?”

“My voice ain’t da bes’ right now. Lemme jus’ say em.”

“Aight.”

“Um...” My skin began to tingle. He was still staring at the ground, but it was so obvious that he was listening. “Okay well, this is in poem form still. Dat’s how most of my songs start out. But anyway. It goes like...


I cleared my throat and thought of what I said. “God, that sounded worse than I remember. That’s one scrappy rough draft.”

“Plus, I like it better when you sing it,” Sasha added.

“No.” His voice split the air. “That was good. It was real.” Damn, what was I supposed to do, thank him...? Duh Shade, I thought.

“Uh, thanks.” Finally he moved and put his feet up on the couch.

“You got him to talk! He ain’t talk all day.” He was just so sexy in so many ways. Maybe I should have given him a chance. But it was too late for that then.

Since my fight with Lorraine, weekends had become boring. I left her and Jada alone to talk and whatnot but I didn’t sit with them in the mornings anymore. Almost everyday since that day I questioned our friendship and decided it was all lies and deception.

Instead I became a loner. But I wasn’t going to be an obvious loner. Some days I’d hang in the hallways. Other days I checked into the library. And although being alone didn’t bother me, loneliness did.

That day in particular was better though. The girl with the cut hair sat near me at the lunch table I was at. The table was empty so I thought it was strange that she sat near me. She wasn’t doing anything but playing with her food, like she questioned how hungry enough she was to eat the boulder hard biscuit. Every now and then, she’d look at me. It took a few glances at her to decide that she was gorgeous. She had lips only an African girl could possess and perfect almond eyes. I felt like a loser sitting around her by myself. She pushed her biscuit aside and really looked at me. I shyed away from her gaze.

“Uh, I know this might be random, and sound weird,” she started to say. “But were you born with your eyes like that? I just really want to know.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah you were born like that?”

“Yeah... uh, yes.” She giggled, which I found odd.

“I’m sorry. What is your name?”

“Shade.”

“Wow, never heard somethin’ like that before. Why Shade?”

“Because... ‘cause my eye is a shade of grey.”

“Wow. That is very cool. I’m Amara by the way.” Amara. Something to call her by.

“Oh...” I didn’t know what else to say, so she took the opportunity to speak.

“So Shade, why are you sittin’ all by yourself.” ‘Cause I have no friends, but only a true loser would say that.

“Just like to sometimes.”

“You mean, everyday?” Made me think she paid more attention to me than I thought. “I’m sorry. That is none of my business. I’m sure you do not even want to talk to me.”

“No, it’s okay.” Her eyes squinted, giving me cat eyes. I didn’t know what to think of it.

“Shade... I’m new to the school. I do not know many people here but people I knew from other schools. I hope this does not seem weird, but I want to be your friend or something.” She was obviously not American. But I felt I could grow to like it. “I mean, because I’m so different because I’m from another country, people do not accept me the same. So it is hard to make friends sometimes.” I chuckled. She was about to take offense.

“I understand. I’m weird too.”

“But how can you be weird like me, you’re American?” Her voice raised in a stern and direct way. It was different from yelling when someone is upset. I smiled.

“I am, in many ways, Amara.”

“But how?” It amazed me how her voice could go from loud and direct to low and soft.

“Well, you’ll eventually find out, being my friend and all.” She smiled, and I did too. Who would have known it would be that easy?

Sasha walked into the classroom swiftly. The air from her haste walking fluttered her loose dress around her perfect legs. It was tangerine color and accented her skin well. I wondered if the teacher ever cared about her tardiness. She sat next to me and dropped everything on the floor.

“Why’re you late everyday, Sasha?” She giggled.

“It’s always something different.”

“What is it today?”

“Woke up late. Den Darnell decided to get somethin’ to eat.”

“He drives?”

“Some days. Depends.” I nodded my head and started doing my journal for the day. Sasha started texting and looking around.

“Okay, can I tell you somethin’?” she asked. I looked up at her.

“Anything.”

“Well... I think I’ll tell you at lunch. I mean, I feel weird about it, ‘specially since the conversation we had a while ago.” We had so many conversations “a while ago” that I didn’t know which one she was talking about. “I mean, I feel real close to you, like I can tell you anything.”

“Okay Sasha.” She cut a look at me.

“Do you even care?”

“Of course I care.” I said genuinely then smiled.

“Okay ‘cause I don’t fuck wit’ people dat fuck wit’ my friendship when it’s real.”

“I know.”

Now who the fuck was this nigga? I thought. I hadn’t seen that mo’ since day one of school. I knew I had seen him somewhere in the hallways and in my neighborhood, but the nigga had yet to show up to our second period class. That was typical for the fools at my school.

Dude was leaning hard in his chair against the wall, clearly not giving a fuck about his presence in the class. He was rocking the soldier boy reject swag. Sagging pants that were two sizes too big. Jordans that cost more than his house. Red shirt that represented his unbiological family. And that mean ass look for no good reason. Had a brush glued to his hand, making sure not a single wave in his hair rippled. Those probably stolen diamond studs were surgically placed in his earlobes. He had one black tear, knowing he probably didn’t shed any for whoever’s life he shamed.

If I hadn’t been tired of fools like him, I was dead with it. If I had a mentality anywhere close to his, I would have taken him out my own damn self. Hoped he wasn’t no big mouthed nigga neither because I was not trying to have it.

Living up to his appearance, he didn’t do any work in the class. He sat and stared still trying to look intimidating. He could look as intimidating as he wanted, but in society's eyes, he was plus one to the prison population. It made me sick seeing people like him come to school everyday to do nothing. They’d be more productive at home.

My luck was shit when it came to people like him. For some reason I attracted hoodlums like him like moths to light. They stuck around until I turned myself off, then flew away, usually moving on to another light. The nigga looked me up and down with “that look” in his eyes that told me he was trying to buy. I rolled my eyes at him. Although I had my share of scandalous one hit wonders and affairs, I was careful about who I fucked with. Niggas like him were off limits to the cake.

Unfortunately, the nigga didn’t sit that far from me and had the perfect opportunity to get a few words towards me in.

“Wa’s up mama, why you lookin’ so mean fo’?” Anyone in the right mind knew that I did not want anything to do with this fool. However I was never rude to someone I didn’t know even though I could tell the nigga was simple.

“I don’t like Mondays,” I answered. Then I asked: “Are you new to this school?”

“Nah, jus’ ain’t feel like comin’ till today. Happy I did dough else I wouldn’t have met you.” I gave him one thing, he was better at smooth talking than other ones I came across.

“Mm.” The sound came out nonchalantly. “That could have been a bad thing dough. I mean, you don’t know me.”

“I can get to know you, mama.”

“I have a name, and it’s Shade.” Her eyes widened. That was a bad sign on my behalf, but a good one on his.

“Damn, you mean Shade the freak?” I turned away, looking mean all over again. “I’m sorry, I’s jus’ my nigga Wanya tol’ me ‘bout you. Said you know how to put it down.” I could only be mad at myself for ruining my reputation. Not everyone knew I was loose with the sex, but the ones who did did the most damage. “So... when can you put it down on a nigga?”

“Never.”

“What?” I cut him a mean ass look.

“You heard me, I said neva.”

“What you bein’ so salty fo’?”

“Why would you jus’ ask me, someone you don’t even know, to fuck you? I could have AIDs for all you know. Herpes, gonorrhea, da whole nine. And what kinda respect is dat?”

“Bitch, you fuck Wanya like you don’t give a fuck.”

“You don’t know shit about me and Wanya.” I spoke a lot more calmly than he did. I wasn’t stupid enough to upset an irrational fool like him.

“Know what, I don’t even give a fuck anymore. Prolly feel like a dick in air.”

“Maybe.” I was happy that ended much quicker than days stacked on days to get the nigga to back down. Wish all of them were that easy.

I hated Monroe. Although I already made that clear, I was more passionate about it that day. The essay was completed and we got our grade back on it. We got a one hundred and she expressed to us that she wanted to put the essay into a contest where the first and second place winners would get it published in the New York Times newspaper, the first place winner also getting an interview, and the chance to win ten thousand dollars worth of scholarship money. Knowing that I was going to be poor soon, I needed that money. Monroe decided he didn’t want to take credit for the essay. I was okay with that because he didn’t want to do shit. What bothered me was what he said about the paragraph regarding my personal insight on it.

“How do you know your dad didn’t do it?” As much as I didn’t want to answer him because of how upsetting the question was, I felt the need to.

“Because my daddy won’t no murderer.”

“But I mean, how do you know, you weren’t there?”

“Were you there?” I snapped.

“No, but--”

“Then shut the fuck up. You don’t know shit ‘bout my dad, so you need to shut up right now.” The anger in my voice scared him not to speak. Or maybe it was the hurt in my eyes. He stared at me, waiting to see me cry so he could have his apology ready. Only if I cried he would have one. I didn’t.

Just when I was about to break dam the lunch bell rang. Then I remembered Sasha having to tell me something. It gave me the reason to hurry through the line. She came shortly after and sat next to me. I was convinced that she forgot that she said she was going to tell me something, until she stuck out her pinky.

“Please Shade, don’t tell anyone, and please don’t judge.” I shook my head, then took her pinky.

“I have no room to.”

“Okay well... remember on Friday when I tried to come on to you and you said you was on yo’ period? Well, I looked at Darnell ‘cause...” She sighed. “Okay, before Darnell proved me gay we were like... dating in a weird way but we never had sex and it was an open relationship. But I wasn’t feelin’ no other nigga. But I was real close to my ex-girlfriend, we were friends then, though. I always thought she was attractive. So I called myself gay and me and Darnell just became friends again.

“But with that conversation me an’ you had a while ago, you was right. I did have a connection with Darnell when we had sex. I mean, I like pussy and the way girls look. But I’m so close to Darnell that it don’t even matter that he don’t have titties. He’s the best friend I ever had and I love him. I mean to me, some guys are cute an’ shit but I’d never date em or even think ‘bout fuckin’ em. But Darnell is the only one I would do that wit’.

“So on Friday after you left, I fucked Darnell.” She lowered her head and shook it in shame. “I feel so bad about it ‘cause I knew his weaknesses and he won’t tryna fuck.”

“What did you do?”

“I walked up to em and sat on his lap facing em. Had my hands ‘round his neck. Then he was like ‘Sasha, what are you doin’?’ but wit’ him, not talkin’ is better. Then I kissed his neck. He tried hard not to touch me but right when he touched my thighs, it was done for. He fuck so good though, I don’t know what to do.

“I said sorry to em an’ he said it was okay but it wasn’t. Feel so bad ‘bout it.”

“Why you feel so bad? I mean, he is a boy.”

“‘Cause... there’s things ‘bout Darnell you don’t know. I mean, we all got somethin’ we ashamed ‘bout.” Who are you tellin’? I thought. “It was jus’ bad.”

“Ya’know Sasha, since you bein’ so honest wit’ me, I’ma tell you dat I really wasn’t on my period Friday.”

“Why’d you lie?” I sighed.

“‘Member when you asked me how many guys I been wit’?” She nodded. “Well, since I don’t even know, I decided dat I was gonna hold off from having sex for a while.”

“How long has it been?”

“Like, almost a month now.”

“Wow, you’re don’ good. But I don’t have sex dat much so a month ain’t nothin’ to me.”

“Well, for someone like me, I’s hard.”

“What you do to deal wit’ it?”

“My middle finger and my thumb, then I make a J.” She laughed, grabbing the hand I demonstrated with. She kept my hand in hers for a while. “And sometimes I...” I caught myself from saying too much. “Wait, never mind.”

“What?”

“No, it’s TMI.”

“Nah, I’s okay. I’ll tell you somethin’ embarrassing.”

“Okay well, sometimes I take a glass bottle, then wrap it in a lot of plastic wrap, and I use that.” She covered her mouth, trying to hold back her hysterical laugh.

“Oh my god, Shade. You jus’ a real freak.”

“I am... by mishap.”

“What you mean?” I shook my head. Wasn’t close enough to her to tell her that much.

“Okay, your embarrassing story now.” She looked away, holding back a smile. After some time of embarrassment, she looked back at me, letting go of my hand.

“Sometimes I go to da park an’ ride on da animal things wit’ da springs ‘cause I like da feel of it on my vagina.” My mouth slowly curved into a smile. Her eyes got big behind her square glasses.
“Don’ tell nobody!” I laughed.

“I won’t. But I can’t lie, I’ve done dat to a table befo’. I need something really hard if I’s jus’ touching da outside.” She couldn’t hold back the laugh that time. “And I need a good massage to my tits to get wet.” She grabbed one of my breasts.

“Oh shit,” She said through laughter. I slightly laughed then moved her hand.

“Don’t get me started.”

“You know, one day me an’ you needa have a talk ‘bout things you’ve done befo’ ‘cause sound like you done a lot of crazy shit.” I nodded my head, agreeing.

“Maybe. Might take a while dough. I’ve done some shit.” For the rest of the lunch period we joked about random things and shared stories of sticky situations we’ve been in. Not all of it was regarding sex. And all while I was talking to her comfortably, it struck me how foolish I was to not even realize that from day one I had Sasha as a friend. She might not have been the brightest or willing to learn, but she was accepting. Just wondered how much she’d accept me when I told her I slept with her best friend.

Jim sure as hell was a sore on a foot. I could stomp on him and the bitch wouldn’t let up. Watching TV was his true profession and bothering me was his hobby. I couldn’t even get in a few minutes of the Food Network channel or anything before he complained about watching a replay of football.

“Look Shade, I was runnin’ errands all day Sunday. I jus’ wanna catch the game I missed.” I sighed and set the remote down next to me. Then on second thought, I picked it up.

“All you do is hog dis damn TV.” He looked around, then looked at me. No, he examined me from head to toe. I should have known better than to wear my house shorts and tank around the pot bellied nigga.

“Where yo’ mama at?”

“You tell me.” He walked and sat next to me on the couch. His weight made me fall more into him so I moved over. He smelled like cheap cologne masking must, and sweat. His stench made me hold down my lunch and get upset at him for coming near me smelling the way he did.

“Look Shade.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “I jus’ want you to realize that when I get home from work--” Throwing his hand off of my shoulder made him pause.

“Continue,” I said, not really wanting him to.

“That when I get home, I like to relax by watching TV.”

“Well, this ain’t yo’ house an’ sometimes I wanna watch TV. You can’t hog it all da time.”

“But I’m grown.”

“Then so am I.” He grunted. I couldn’t believe that he actually cooperated with what I was watching. I even tested him by going to the Discovery Health channel to watch Dr. G. Each time I turned to a channel he didn’t like, he’d grunt under his breath. Then he got used to it, but got too comfortable. He tried to put his arm around my shoulders but I brushed it off. Then the nigga had the nerve to move closer to me.

“Jim...” I looked at him. He tried to look like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. “Are you marrying me or my mama?” It took him awhile to say something.

“You already know what I’m gettin’ at, Shade.” I gave in to him. Couldn’t even tell myself what I was watching on TV because I was so distracted by the vibe he was giving off. Set down the remote and walked to my room. I stripped until I was in nothing but my bra and panties. There wasn’t a single verse or lyric in my head that I was willing to write. I checked in early.

The music was blasting through the speakers while silhouettes danced on cue. A light show put on that would put an epileptic in a coma. The DJ jammed with the music. Bodies grinded against each other, and only with the flash of a certain white light, I could make out faces. Hungry faces. Air that smelt of sweat, drugs. Sex. Moans escaped the lips of many. White light. Naked bodies. The room filled of black nipples and black dicks. I wanted to join the party, but I couldn’t. My legs wouldn’t give.


I was feeling the song so much that I started dancing. But my dancing wasn’t regular dancing. It was more like fucking on the floor. My hips were grinding into the air. A pair of hands cradled my waist. A warm body pressed against me. Didn’t care to check who it was. For a quick couple of seconds, the lights went off and the music stopped. When everything came back on, the music changed to something slower. Something dirty but sensual. Then in a window of the club, there was a girl dancing. Behind her was magenta light and all I could see was her black silhouette. She danced slow and sexy to the song. Whoever was on me was definitely a guy because I could feel his big dick getting harder. I reached behind me and grabbed his thighs while grinding my ass into his dick. And the girls slow dancing turned me on.


She couldn’t have been wearing clothes. Her breasts were too round and free. Her ass was round, legs shapely. The dudes hands on my breasts. I moaned with pleasure. Something was too familiar about the girl. It was the head wrap. My eyes glued to her. Couldn’t feel the guy on me and I wasn’t sure if he was there. She squatted down with her legs wide open and her hands on the glass. Then her hand went down and I swear she was playing with herself. Her head went back and I just knew I could hear her moans. Both her hands trailed down her thighs then stopped at her knees. She slowly came back up then threw her hands up like a belly dancer.

“Shade.”

I woke up. One of my hands was on my breast. The other was down my panties. My finger was just above my clit. I slowly moved my hands and heard the pop of my panty strap. Moved my fingers from around my hardened nipple. My pussy begged for attention, daring me to play with her. That was the most horny I’d ever been. Surprisingly the first person to come to mind was Darnell, but that was wishful thinking. He barely wanted to look at me. Looked to my right to get the time. It was almost eight o’clock. I jumped out of bed and put some clothes on. Didn’t care who saw me walk out the house. My legs were automatic as I walked to my mystery neighbor's house. She was in her head wrap. The sight of her body was all I needed.