Pride and Panties

The mind is a powerful thing. The saying proves to be true as I am being molested by the two people in this world I hate the most. The trashiest girl in the world and the wannabe baller that traded his nice career for dope and easy money are not my preferred type of company. Even imagining myself in this scenario is embarrassing. Poor Brynlee, my best friend, has been so worried about my mental health because I have cancelled our plans all but once in the two months I have been back in Pinch. Ghost Facebook accounts and numerous local classified profiles have been the marketing for my dirty, secret business. Church was a mere memory. I told Bryn I was too depressed for company and grieved alone while trying to adjust to this new life. I was really nervous to see her worrying about what she would say about my appearance.  I can't remember the last time I showered or wore makeup. I've learned to live in the filth in the trap house. In fact, I stayed so high, I didn't think about it at all.

Cue Trashy McNasty. The one time I tried to be friends with that disgusting whore, it backfired and I instantly saw what a farce and fraud she really was.  Learning she had been blessed with a child made me envious. Not only that, it made me question God. God granted her a son but instead of cherishing her precious time with him, she left him at her parents house, unbeknownst to them while she took their Silveraldo to pick up whatever redneck had the most dope that night. That was four years ago, he was still there, never knowing when mommy was coming home or if she ever was.  My blood boiled as I listened to her oversized teeth tell her pathetic story.  Suddenly the myth of the meth temper became a reality. I had never been violent but lately with the bickering between the three of us, I started to fantasize about those teeth laying on the floor. It would happen in due time I'm sure. 

Torie was out by herself tonight. I needed the break from slinging dope but laying there while Preston disappointed me was even more tedious. I roughly push his head away and pulled on my pants. I offered no explanation as I finally feel the cool, autumn air hit my face. I practically ran from the run down trailer crying the entire way to Grammy V's. After almost an hour in a ball on the floor of the shower, I finally began to feel clean. I dried off and my imagination kicked in as dug through my panty drawer and pull out the sexiest pairs I could find. I modeled them all one by one. I would give those perverts exactly what they wanted. Their very own piece of me to do with whatever they wanted.

The cleanliness of my bedroom, complete with fresh linens on my old poster bed combined with the invigorating smell of the night air relaxed me. It also brought memories flooding my mind of the phantom man I longed for.  It seemed like forever. I could barely make out his face and I no longer remember the sound of his voice. His body was as clear as crystal though. I saw his bicep twitch as he held himself above me on the bed. I could feel the solid mass of his torso under the palms of my hands as his body rocked my head into the head board. I realized that the fucking I was taking was useless to my body. I wasn't turned on remotely. I haven't had actual pleasure since Deacon. Would I ever be able to fully enjoy myself as I did with him? I mean, I know I craved excitement and deviancy but there was something about him that turned me on. I guess over the years I had just become bored. Never satisfied with what I had. Always wanted something more. Sheesh. Enough of all that, right now I need these panties to smell of my excitement. I better get on point. I closed my eyes and there he was. Not as he was presently, but as he was when he was the object of my affection. I could barely reach climax but I managed to get five pair of panties ready for sale. 

I thought to myself, Why, Preston, why? You could have had anything you wanted out of life. Why slinging dope and why the dope whore? 

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