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THIRD PERSON
"Hey Dior!" The girl turned her head and smiled at one of her known clients.
It was Callie, a known female from round they way.
She hugged her before Callie sat down. "Hey baby,"
Dior voice was soft and small, people say very adorable.
"Girl," Callie dragged turning her head to meet Dior eyes.
She raised her brows as a smile grew already knowing her client had some tea.
"Tell me why, they got these niggas getting dates in jail!" Dior laughed taking Callie pre washed hair out the ponytail.
"Wha' you mean niggas getting dates in jail?"
Callie hummed rolling her neck,
"Exactly what I said, sis. You can meet them fine niggas in the pen. You know, get on calls wit em, be on basically facetime wit em."
This sparked Dior interest.
See, the thing about Dior, shorty was one of the most wanted females walking but she was independent and kept to herself.
But as of lately, Dior craved a niggas attention.
This independent shit could last such a long time for her.
Every nigga that wanted her was somebody that wasn't good for her at all.
They either wanted Dior for her looks, the clout her name held or even her body.
No nigga actually wanted to get to know her.
Dior didn't care for these niggas around anyways.
She thought of them as bums.
Callie explained everything about this new "get a nigga in jail" shit making Dior wanna see what it was bout.
And that's exactly what Dior did when she got in the house.
There she sat in front of her laptop with Jhené Aiko playing softly in the background and a rolled blunt between her fingers.
you what this pussy needed...
Dior pressed on the site that popped up.
It was smart for her liking, write a prisoner. It was the first step.
She skimmed the niggas and they were all fine, all of them but none perked her interest.
Till she seen this one in particular...
"Whew chile." Dior found herself saying out loud.
The name underneath the picture was LOC KEYZ.
It says he is 23, 6'2 and has no kids.
Dior smiled. Perfect.
Loc stared in the camera his face straight with a slight mug.
Somehow, it turned Dior on and the weed was getting to her.
Dior was bold but she always kept that shit to herself.
She decided to write him.
She told him how fine he was and how cute their babies would be.
Dior couldn't help but to laugh at the nonsense but she kept writing.
♥︎
"You got mail, nigga." The prison guard spoke making Loc sit up from the bed.
He was day dreaming, something he always did to get him through being locked in the prison.
"Fuck you mean mail? Nigga from who." Loc raspy deep voice questioned in confusion snatching the envelope from the man.
He examined the writing.
It was pretty but Loc didn't know who the fuck it was from.
"Probably a bitch from the website you on, dumbass." Loc head snapped up to the guard causing his eyes to widen. "My fault, my fault."
The guard walked away from Loc cell as he sat down back on his bed.
He opened the purple envelope and pictures fell out.
Loc didn't know how the fuck that website worked and this was his first from anybody.
You would think this fine nigga would have females fleeing to him like a moth to a flame but it wasn't the case right now, right now.
Dear Keyz,
My name is Dior, from Chicago. You fine as fuck and so am I. Our babies would be galore, I'm telling you lol but I would like to get to know you if you let me. I don't know how this shit works but just write me back if you interested or email me. The pictures are of me... Told you, I was fine.
Loc couldn't help but to smirk.
He picked the pictures that fell up seeing Dior pretty ass on them.
Loc stared down at the picture of Dior poking her lips out. "Damn, you is fine."
Loc knew that the website was for niggas to not be bored in here but something told him Dior was a bitch who shouldn't be played with.
