“Don’t worry, Mom. I understand.” Nyesha walked over to me and hugged me.
I broke down crying in my child’s arms. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Maybe I should’ve let him stay, but how could I? He did the ultimate betrayal by bringing another nigga in my house. He violated our marriage and our home; there was no way around that.
After cleaning up, I decided to shower. As the water beat down on my skin, I let out every emotion that I was feeling. I bawled and bawled until I realized my body was numb from all the hot water that was beating down on me.
I turned the water off and got out. As I dried off, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have a man rub his hands across my perky breasts. Even though I had children, I was still able to maintain a cute, sexy figure. A sense of jealousy rushed over me as I flashed back to when my husband was deep into that nigga’s ass. I hated his ass for not having the balls to walk away from me. Instead, he had to do this fucking shit. Everything was questionable now, from those long trips out of town to money missing from our joint account. Now it all made sense to me.
I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I jumped out of the bed, ran downstairs, and grabbed a few trash bags and started taking all his clothes out of the closet and the drawers. I stuffed them in the bags, and I took all the expensive suits and leather shoes he owned and placed them inside the bags. I dragged them down the stairs, one by one, into the basement. Tears rolled down my face as I grabbed the big bottle of Clorox bleach and poured it all over his belongings. Making sure that even the socks were drenched with bleach, I tied the bags up and dragged them, one by one, out the garage door, out to the trash, by the curb. Pickup was tomorrow, so I needed to get this shit out of my house.
I walked back in the house, closed the garage, and walked up the stairs. I washed my hands and poured a glass of wine, grabbed a few crackers, and walked up the stairs. I dried my tears and cut the television on. I was trying to catch an episode of Wives with Knives. Now, I could see what these crazy bitches were going through when they went ham on those niggas.
CHAPTER THREE
Malaya
“Bye, Mommy, I love you,” Nyesha said as she ran out of the house. I was expecting the same from her sister, but I saw she still had an attitude. God knows what lies her daddy told her when she called him. She walked past me without saying a word to me. I closed the door as the bus picked them up.
I didn’t have any time to waste; I was having a meeting with Mr. Javon Sanders. Yes, you heard me right. Mr. Sanders, my client. For some reason, I was excited to see him today. This was strange because he was only a client. I had no right feeling like this. I quickly dismissed that thought.
In no time, I was dressed. I decide to wear my extra-tight pinstriped skirt suit. My hair was done, so I just spritzed some spray on it and made sure my edges were straight. I put a little lip gloss on my lips. After taking one last look at myself, feeling satisfied, I walked out of the room. I grabbed my briefcase and the pile of files I had.
I walked around the house, making sure all the doors and windows were locked. I didn’t trust Trent. I hoped he’d just stay gone. Wishful thinking. He was a nigga who didn’t believe in divorce, so I knew that, wherever he was at, he was plotting his next move. I knew one damn thing: somebody better tell that man to stay away from me before his mama be burying her only son.
I finally made it to work, on time. I parked my car and got out. I grabbed my briefcase and my papers and walked toward my office. Dana was off today. She had an emergency with her family back in Detroit, so she flew out there for a few days.
It looked like I was there by myself today. Oh, well, my client should be here in about another hour. I opened my blinds, made a cup of cappuccino, and turned my computer on. I had a little time to read e-mails and also respond to them. I turned on the video so I could know when he entered the office.
My phone started to ring. I grabbed it off my desk and answered. It was Trent.
“What the hell do you want?” I asked him.
“You know what I want. I just went to the house and realized that you changed the locks on me.”
“It was your house, but you gave up that right when you were in my bed, fucking that nigga.”
“That doesn’t mean shit. You can’t just put me out of my own shit. I fucking live here; I suggest you give me a key, or I’ll call the police.”
“I don’t give a fuck about you calling the police. I would love to let them know what I caught you doing. You are not moving back in, so I suggest you find somewhere else to live. I will be divorcing you, and I will give them lawyers the video that I have of you screwing a transsexual in my bed.”
I was done talking to his ass, so I hung the phone up. This bastard had some fucking nerve, calling talking about me changing the fucking locks. What the fuck did he expect? Did he think that we were going to lie in the same bed he was fucking that slut nigga in? See, my day was going fucking good until this nigga interrupted my day. I let out a long sigh and went back to what I was doing.
Twenty minutes later, I heard the office door open. I looked at the monitor and saw that it was Mr. Sanders walking in. My heart jumped a couple beats, and I had no idea why it did that. However, I straightened my skirt and walked out of the office and into the lobby.
“Hey there, Mr. Sanders. How are you?” I asked.
“Well, hello to the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on,” he joked and smiled.
“Come on back here. We have work to do.” I walked off on him.
“Sure, I’ll follow you wherever you want me to go.”
I walked to the office, and he followed me. I took a seat behind my desk, and he sat in the chair in front of me. We started to discuss his case.
“So, you have a court date coming up in three weeks. I just want you to be ready for it. I’ve put in a motion for discovery, so I can see all of the evidence that they claim they have on you.”
“So, how is it looking?” he asked.
“Well, you know I’m going to tell you the truth. According to their evidence, they have a lot of shit on you. But you know I’m good at what I do, so I’ve got a few tricks that I’m going to pull out to see if they work.” I paused. “I need you to stay out of trouble; I need you to cut all these niggas loose. I need you to just stop running the streets, and I need you to get into a drug program.”
“A drug program?” He looked at me, confused.
“Yes, a drug program. It will help you because it has a diversion program that you can go to instead of going to prison.”
I wasn’t going to lie; this nigga was looking good as hell in front of me. The way he licked his lips and his cocky demeanor were driving me crazy. My pussy lips started to tingle as I tried to move around a little bit in my chair without bringing attention to myself. I didn’t know what it was about this man, but I swear I wished that I was bouncing up and down on his dick right now. I knew I was tripping, but I was horny as fuck, and we’re both grown, so we could definitely do what grown people do: get our fuck on.
“Mrs. Ipswich, you okay?” His voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Uh-huh. Yeah, I’m good. I just got sidetracked for a second.”
“Oh, okay, ’cause you were looking kind of crazy.” He burst out laughing,
I giggled a little, but I was embarrassed. Here I was, in the company of a hot-ass street nigga, and I was fumbling over my words. I hurried up and regained my composure.
“Okay, back to what I was saying. I need to know if you’d be interested in taking a plea deal if they offer one.”
“A plea deal? What do I look like? A fucking rat, B? I mean, I’m a real G. I ain’t wit’ no snitching shit,” he yelled.
“You need to stop yelling and talk. Get out of your hood mentality for a quick second. I wasn’t saying anything about no snitching. But, shit, what I heard was that some of your so-called friends were trying to plead out. I suggest you think about you and you only. There are no f
riends in these streets. I’ve been in this business long enough to see husbands roll over on wives and vice versa, mamas telling on sons and vice versa. Those same niggas who you are faithfully riding for will be the niggas copping pleas so they can get less prison time,” I spat at him.
It disturbed the fuck out of me to see these so-called street niggas run around here talking about, “Loyalty over anything.” Really? While the niggas they were loyal to were setting them up?
“Damn, you got a little harsh, didn’t you?”
“Harsh? No. I’m giving it to you straight. You’re a street nigga, so you should want it straight. I’m a damn great lawyer, but it irritates me when my clients be acting like they have no idea how serious their charges are.”
“Trust me, I get it. But you need to get it; I live and breathe these streets. You see this?” This arrogant-ass nigga unbuttoned his shirt, pulled his wife beater up, and revealed his tattoo that went across his chest: LOYALTY OVER EVERYTHING. “I live this. I will lay it down for life before I roll on any one of my niggas. I don’t know what the next man is doing; I’m only responsible for what Javon does. You feel me?”
“Understood, Mr. Sanders.”
We ended up discussing his case a little bit longer. Then, he was ready to go. I got up, about to walk him out. He stood by the door.
“Excuse me,” I said as I tried to pass him.
“Why are you fighting it?”
“Fighting what?” I laughed nervously.
“Come on. From the first day we met, I knew I was digging you, and today, you confirmed that you’re feeling the same way. So, we’re grown. Why are we playing these little children games? I have no idea.”
“Mr. Sanders, I have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m your lawyer; you’re my client. Nothing more, nothing less.” I smiled at him but, deep inside, I was exploding. I wanted to feel his big hands rubbing across my chest. I wanted to feel his lips pressed against mine.
“Let’s see if I’m tripping.” He took a step and pulled me closer to him, locking his big lips down on mine.
“What are you doing?” I managed to mumble between kisses.
“Doing what we both want,” he said as he started fondling my breasts through the silk blouse that I had on underneath my suit. I tried to move, but my mind was stuck, and I couldn’t allow myself to move. I started kissing him back as I inhaled his masculine smell. He unbuttoned my shirt and released my breasts from my bra. I started to unbutton his pants. I felt his dick; it was already hard. It wasn’t an average-size dick; baby was packing in the right places. My pussy was going through all sorts of different emotions. I was yearning for a dick to make my hungry pussy satisfied. Before you knew it, we were both butt-ass naked in my office.
He lifted me up without warning and placed me on top of my office table, pushing all my papers over. He threw my legs over his shoulder, while he knelt down on his knees and slowly inhaled the fresh scent of my neatly shaved pussy. Feeling his breath on my clit kind of made me edgy. He then licked the tip of my clit, causing me to tremble inside. Before I knew it, he was head deep into my opening. I wrapped my legs and locked his head deep in. I lay down with my eyes closed. I blocked everything out of my mind; I was trying to savor the moment.
“Awee, aweee,” I screamed out when he sucked aggressively on my clit.
I definitely loved every moment of this. I wasn’t big on dick but getting my pussy sucked was another thing. I rose up a little bit and held on to his shoulders as I came all in his mouth. I tightened my grip as I climaxed a few more times. He got up, and without notice, he flipped my ass around like I was a rag doll. He slid his dick all up in my wet pussy.
“Hmmm,” I mumbled.
I assumed it was a good size; I didn’t know it was that big. So, I was definitely under the pressure; the farther he slid up in me, the more pressure I was under. The pain was bad, but the dick was everything. I loved it. I knew that sounded crazy, but it was good and bad at the same damn time. I tried to move around, but he had me pinned down, and he wasted no time beating my walls down. The hard-ass table didn’t help anything. I closed my ass and took that dick like a grown woman. I didn’t know the time, but I assumed it was twenty minutes later. I felt like he was thrusting harder, so I used everything in me to throw my ass back on him. His dick got stiffer, and within seconds, he busted.
“Arrghhhhh. Fuck! Fuck,” he growled out.
I quickly turned around and jumped off the table. Even though I enjoyed it, I was happy it was over with because that table was hurting my stomach, and the pressure he was applying from behind wasn’t helping either. He stood there in front of me with his dick hanging, and he looked at me. “Yo, you got that good, good.”
I looked at him. I wasn’t sure how I should respond. “I can’t believe I did this. This is so not me,” I said.
“Relax, yo! You’re grown, and you looked like you could’ve used a good fuck.”
“Excuse me? What are you saying? I looked thirsty?”
“Nah, I mean you seem uptight, like it’s been a minute since you had your pussy beat up.”
“I’m a married woman, and I am not backed up,” I lashed out.
“Chill out. You’re getting all defensive and shit. Ain’t nothing wrong if ol’ boy don’t know how to satisfy a woman of your caliber.”
I didn’t say anything. I picked my clothes up off the carpet. I was kind of embarrassed that I allowed this to happen, especially because he was my client. Furthermore, his ass was arrogant as hell.
I was happy no one else was in the office that day because I would’ve been embarrassed as hell. I walked in the small bathroom in my office and grabbed lots of paper towels, and I wet them. I washed between my legs as much as I could and then got dressed. My hair was all over the place, so I used my fingers to straighten it out a little bit.
I mustered up the nerves to walk back into my office. He was already dressed and sitting down. I was hoping that he would’ve been gone, but I saw that he had other plans.
“You’re still here?” I asked.
“Hell, yeah. Where did you think I was going, especially after this good fuck you just gave me?”
“Well, you’re from the streets, like you said, so here it goes. This was a one-hit acquittal. ‘No strings attached’ fuck. Forget it ever happened because I’m a married woman, and you’re a thug.”
“Damn, that’s cold, but I ain’t got no plans to leave you alone. I’m feeling you. You’re a bad bitch in court, and you’ve got some good pussy.”
“First off, I’m a grown woman, not a bad bitch! Just because I fucked you doesn’t mean you know me. I saw a nigga with good dick, and I was horny, so we fucked. Unless it has to do with your case, please don’t contact me. Now, can you please leave so I can get some work done?”
“A’ight, you got that, ma. But you’ve got my digits; hit me up.”
He winked at me, opened the door, and walked out. I looked at the monitor as he walked out of the office. After the door closed behind him, I got up and walked into the waiting area and locked the office. I walked back into my office and flopped down on my sofa. I sighed. I couldn’t believe I just fucked him and ran him off. That seemed like a ho move, but after the way this man fucked my soul, mind, and body, I couldn’t stand to be in his presence.
The rest of the day was spent trying to work, but I barely got any work done. My mind was stuck on this thug. I wondered what it would feel like to be with him, not sexually, but in a relationship. I knew a nigga like him, with all that money and good dick, definitely had a bitch, or a few of them to be exact.
It was a bit early, but I decided to call it a day and leave. I was smelling like pure sex; there was no way I could handle any kind of business smelling like dick and pussy mixed together. I cut the computer off, grabbed my things, and left.
This was one of those days when I wished I lived closer. I was tired from cumming so much and just wanted to shower and get in bed.
CHAPTER F
OUR
Malaya
Talk about being dick whipped! Ever since that boy dicked me down in my office, I couldn’t seem to get him out of my mind. I was kind of confused because I wasn’t looking for a man, especially after what I’d just gone through with Trent. But the way he fucked me good made it hard for me to forget about him. It was strange that he was feeling the same way. Most days after work, we would get together at the Marriot hotel on Broad Street. It wasn’t a cheap hotel, but it was very private. I couldn’t risk being seen by any one of my peers. That would definitely be the talk of the town, and I wasn’t ready to be the center of everybody’s attention. This dude never failed to amaze me; each visit turned into something great. Room service was on point and, after we ate, he would fuck me so good my pussy would hurt for days.
He woke up something inside of me that I thought was gone for good. For years, I couldn’t get wet for Trent, and I thought there was something wrong with me. Now I knew that there wasn’t shit wrong with me. My pussy stayed wet all the time. If Javon ran across my mind, my pussy started to moisten, and when he was close by, I could feel my drawers soaked with pussy juice.
Whenever there is happiness, there’s always bullshit following close by. I got home from work a little later one night. I fixed the girls’ dinner, and I was about to take a quick shower so I could meet up with Javon. Lo and behold, as soon as I stripped my clothes off, I heard a loud-ass banging on the door. It was strange because whoever it was wasn’t ringing the bell; they were banging on the door.
“Damn,” I blurted out as I hurriedly wrapped my robe around my body. I walked down the stairs with an attitude. “Who is it?” I yelled in a high-pitched tone.
“Chesterfield police, ma’am.”
The police? What the fuck are the police doing here? I peeped through the peephole, and I saw two police officers.
“Officers, how may I help you . . .” I didn’t finish my sentence because I instantly spotted my husband standing with them.
Falling for My Side Dude Page 3