The Diary of a Side Chick 6 (SCD)

by Tamicka Higgins

  “I stay with my mama,” Desirae asked. She let out a deep sigh. “It’s goin’ coo and shit, but I’m ready to get my own place again. I moved in with her so she could help me take care of my sons, but it does have its moments. I don’t really feel like I can do anything or have company or anything because of it.”

  “Because she might be there?” D’Mann asked.

  “Yeah,” Desirae said. “But, it’s coo. I’m try’na find me a job right now, as soon as I can, so I can get some money in my pocket and shit. Plus, I need to get back on my routine so I can lose some weight.”

  “You don’t need to lose no weight,” D’Mann assured her. “I don’t know who you try’na fool and shit, but half these bitches out here wish they was as thick as you.”

  Desirae smiled, looking over at D’Mann. “I know they do.”

  “That’s what don’t make no sense to me is how you say you ain’t got no dude,” D’Mann said. “I know what you are.” He looked at her, smiling and nodding. “I know what kinda chick you is. You prolly one of them real picky chicks that ain’t no nigga good enough to please or some shit. I know your type.”

  “Naw, that ain’t me,” Desirae said. “Why you say that?”

  D’Mann shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, laughing. “Just cuz.”

  Desirae playfully slapped D’Mann’s shoulder again. “Don’t be like that,” she said. “I mean, I been just havin’ a real hard time findin’ a dude who not gon’ dog me out and who gon’ give me some attention. My baby daddy, back when I first got pregnant, gon’ tell me that I was just somethin’ to fuck.”

  “What?” D’Mann asked, sounding surprised and concerned. “That nigga told you what? How disrespectful is that shit?”

  “I know, right!” Desirae said. “I was mad for so long that he told me somethin’ like that.”

  “I am too,” D’Mann said. “And I just met you. You too sweet and pretty and smart and shit to be havin’ some nigga treat you like you just some side chick or somethin’. I ain’t even with that shit. I don’t even fuck around out here like that.”

  Desirae looked over D’Mann, processing what he was saying to her. As he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road as they headed toward the interstate that looped around downtown, Desirae could see the ring of truth in his words; the look of honesty in his eyes. She nodded, even if only to herself, as she picked up on the fact that she was talking to a real man.

  “You said you stay over in Haughville?” Desirae asked.

  “Yep,” D’Mann said.

  “Well, shit,” Desirae said, “I got a little more time and shit, you know. You ain’t gotta ride around burnin’ your gas up and shit. I mean, if you want, we can chill a little bit over at your place, or you can take me back to my car, and we can ride around in my car.”

  “You coo with goin’ back to my place?” D’Mann asked. He looked Desirae up and down, knowing that he only needed to say the right things for a little while longer, and he would be deep in that pussy, making her scream at the top of her lungs. “Shit, we can.”

  Quickly, D’Mann changed lanes then turned a corner. He crossed over the White River and began to make his way north.

  “You come over here much?” he asked Desirae.

  “Naw, not really,” she answered. “I used to talk to this nigga who lived over here, but I don’t know if he still live over here or not.”

  D’Mann was still a little skeptical of Desirae. He simply had a hard time grasping how somebody as thick as she was, and with an ass that could have its own orbiting moon, could not have at least a couple of dudes trying to get with her.

  “I know your baby daddy be try’na get back with you,” D’Mann said.

  “What make you say that?” Desirae said. “Look, let’s not even talk about that nigga. Fuck him is all that I got to say. He don’t know shit, ain’t good for shit, and,” she thought about the front yard at her mother’s house on Saturday; how Tron had simply watched her get her ass beat from the car, “don’t give a shit about me.”

  D’Mann knew he was hitting a sore spot with Desirae. When she got to talking about the father to her sons, there were definitely hard feelings coming up. In D’Mann’s eyes, the dude had clearly done a number on Desirae, probably even making her feel less desirable. And she got her ass beat, too, D’Mann thought. I know she ain’t feelin’ some type of way.

  When D’Mann drove the SUV into Haughville, Desirae knew where they were right away. The side streets were long and narrow. Houses were small with many yards on slight slopes. Every few houses had cars pulled into the driveway. Some streets had children playing out in the middle of the street as parking on both sides of the street made it seem even tighter.

  For most of the journey, Desirae thought about how she felt so connected to this guy with only having met him some hours ago. He seemed like just a really cool, nice, unassuming guy. He pulled the SUV up in front of a two-story, white double.

  “This the spot,” D’Mann said as he parked his car. “Calm down, calm down. I see that look on your face. I keep the outside plain, but the inside is laid out.”

  “Boy, I wasn’t thinkin’ nothin’ about that,” Desirae said. Rather, she was thinking about who she might know that might come walking down the street. While she felt like the prettiest girl in the world with D’Mann, as he really didn’t care about her face at the moment, she was still self-conscious about it. The last thing she needed right now was for people she’d gone to high school with to see her and begin chitchatting about her all over again.

  When Desirae stepped inside, her eyes practically jumped out of her face. D’Mann had been telling the truth. While the outside of the house looked nothing more than minimal, the inside was a different story. The living room walls were a rich red color – a red that went well with the cream sectional that commanded much of the room’s attention. Spread across the middle of the floor was an area rug made of a fur that Desirae couldn’t recognize off the top of her head.

  Stepping further inside, she noticed the very large television against the interior wall. Seconds had passed and her eyes were now taking in the medium-sized, but laid out dining room. The dining room table was glass and looked like something she’d seen in a magazine. Of course, she wanted to look upstairs. However, she didn’t want to come across as being too nosey.

  “Sorry if the place is a little messy,” D’Mann said. “I ain’t think I was gon’ have company when I got off.”

  “No, you’re fine,” Desirae said, plopping down into a couch. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Nice place, D’Mann. I like this.”

  “Glad you like it,” D’Mann said. “If you want, we can smoke again.”

  Desirae shrugged. “Sure, why not?” she said.

  “Okay, let’s smoke out back,” D’Mann said, motioning toward the kitchen.

  Desirae quickly jumped up, and D’Mann led her through the kitchen and to the back door. She noticed how even the kitchen was nice, as all of the appliances were the latest models. Even the dishes in the windowed cabinets looked as if they cost a pretty penny. D’Mann let Desirae out onto his patio, where there was a ten-foot fence dividing his side from his neighbor’s side on the other side of the duplex. Much like the front of the house, the backyard was plain and very nondescript. Desirae could tell that he’d put extra energy into his house by making it look as inconspicuous as possible.

  The two of them sat down at a cute set of table and chairs as D’Mann pulled another blunt out of his pocket. “A nigga was gon’ save this one to go to sleep,” he said, “but I’ll let you hit it. You seem like you deserve it.”

  “Oh, do I?” Desirae asked. “Well, isn’t that good.”

  “That nigga, your baby daddy and shit, been doin’ you too wrong,” D’Mann said. “I can tell by just talkin’ to you that he really ain’t no fuckin’ good.”

  Desirae shrugged. “I mean, he take care of his sons, I will say that,” she said. “But he ain’t one for talkin’ to or nothin’. Shit,
sometime when he call me, he get to talkin’ real disrespectful.”

  D’Mann leaned forward, putting his hand on Desirae’s thigh. “Why you let that nigga get you all worked up like that?” he asked. “I mean, it seem like there’s more than what you tellin’ me for you to be this worked up over some nigga who obviously don’t know what kinda woman he coulda had.”

  Desirae paused for a moment, just as she was going to open her mouth. She learned right then that there were men in this world who could pick up on her feelings and show some concern. Here she sat, right across from one – right across from that kind of guy.

  “You don’t wanna hear all that,” Desirae said. “Trust me, it would only scare you off. I done had me a rough year this year, I swear. The shit has just been unreal, even lost my best friend.”

  D’Mann insisted that Desirae go ahead and “let a nigga in a little bit.” At first, Desirae was hesitant. However, after D’Mann talked to her, she went ahead and opened up. Careful to not give away too many details or say any names as Indianapolis was only so big when you’re black, Desirae talked about how she’d met the father or her sons and what kind of relationship the two of them had. However, she did leave out the part about Tron having a chick when they met, Shawna. Desirae surely didn’t want to come across as the side chick when meeting a guy who very well could turn out to be a good guy.

  They passed the blunt back and forth to one another as Desirae went on to explain what happened with her best friend. She explained it as her best friend was trying to get with the father of her sons behind her back, therefore breaking up the “relationship” she’d had. While this was far from the truth, Desirae knew that D’Mann was eating it all up. He shook his head, just as she’d finished the story on having her sons.

  “Damn,” D’Mann said. “And the nigga gon’ treat you like that when you got his twins. That shit’s foul. He lucky I don’t know him. I’d beat that nigga’s ass for treatin’ you like ain’t nothin’. I could tell when I met you in the drive-thru, like I said, that you was gon’ be betta quality than fifty, sixty percent of these chicks out here right now. I’m tellin’ you, you somethin’ rare.”

  Desirae smiled, feeling her confidence rise. She looked across at D’Mann’s dark body, a white tank top stretching around his muscled upper body as he slid his red uniform shirt off and hung it on the back of his chair.

  “You work out a lot?” Desirae asked.

  “I try to,” D’Mann said. “A nigga try to. It do get hard sometimes, I can’t lie.” He looked down at his arms and chest. “But, I go to the gym maybe four times a week. You?”

  Desirae shook her head. “I ain’t never really been the gym-type of chick, I don’t guess,” she responded. “I don’t know why.”

  “You don’t go to the gym?” D’Mann asked, sounding surprised. “You bullshittin’ a nigga. How can you have a body that fuckin’ fire and not ever step foot in a gym? Don’t tell me your shit fake.”

  Desirae shook her head. “Oh, hell no,” she said, letting him know. “Ain’t shit on my face, D’Mann. I ain’t one of them chicks. I ain’t gotta go addin’ in and takin’ away.”

  “So, you just built like that natural?” D’Mann said, licking his lips. “A nigga like that shit. Sometimes, and I hate when this shit happen, but sometimes I’ll meet a chick and she’ll get me goin’ and shit. Next thing I know, when a nigga get home, I find out that she got some fake shit on her or somethin’. I look at it like this, if you wanna nigga to be real with you, then why don’t you keep it real with me? I don’t play that shit.”

  “Ain’t no shit fake on me,” Desirae said. “And I always keep it real. So, you not scared that I got two kids?”

  D’Mann shrugged. “I mean, yes and no,” he said. “I ain’t really think about it like that. You seem like a strong, independent kinda chick who is not gon’ go try’na dump that shit on me.”

  “Naw, you ain’t gotta worry about that,” Desirae said. “Plus, with all I been through, I ain’t really lookin’ for nothin’ serious, no way. I just can’t go through that again. I do get lonely sometime, though.”

  “Lonely?” D’Mann asked. “Is that so? Shit, I know what you mean, though. I get lonely too sometimes, but you know how it is when a dude get lonely. Don’t nobody care. You know how you chicks are. Just do a man so dirty and hit once and never call again, blockin’ his number and stuff.”

  Desirae looked at D’Mann, giving him that look. “Boy, stop,” she said. “You funny. I know you got some hoes in your phone.”

  “No, I don’t,” D’Mann said. “Swear I don’t.”

  Desirae looked at D’Mann’s handsome face and dark, sculpted body. “Nigga, please,” she said. “Stop all that lyin’. I know and you know that you got at least a couple hoes in your phone.”

  “Okay, okay,” D’Mann said, holding his hands up. “I may have a couple, but them thots ain’t shit. You can’t hold a conversation with them or nothin’ like that. They a couple airheads, and all they want is the D. Plus, they not even all that good at what they do, for real. Dumb and no fuckin’ good.”

  “What is good to you?” Desirae asked, feeling herself get a little turned on. She noticed how casually D’Mann slouched back in his seat, his legs spread apart like a man who needed extra room.

  “What you mean?” D’Mann asked. “Like, with a chick?”

  Desirae nodded.

  “Well,” D’Mann said, having to think. “I definitely like a chick that will let a nigga be a man and take care of her. I don’t think of that shit as you not bein’ able to do it, but more so as us try’na work together and shit. I also like a woman that knows what she’d doin’ with the D. That shit turn me off when they talk a good game, but when we get in the bedroom, they runnin’ like they scared and stuff and tellin’ me to not go so hard. Fuck that shit.”

  Desirae looked down at D’Mann’s crotch, wondering what was underneath his black pants. “Damn, it’s like that?” Desirae asked.

  D’Mann chuckled. “Sometimes,” he said. “And what about you? What you like in a nigga? What about the last couple niggas you done had?”

  “Shit,” Desirae said. “I like a dude who treat me like a person and actually wanna talk to me and stuff, see how I’m feelin’. I like a nigga that know what he doin’ and is man enough to handle me. The last nigga I got with,” Desirae shook her head, thinking about Greg, “well, let’s just say that shit damn sure wasn’t worth this.” She pointed at her face. “All this over some dick that was definitely shorter than a fuckin’ dollar bill.”

  A snicker slipped out of D’Mann’s mouth. “Naw, that’s fucked up,” he said. “You deserve better than that.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Desirae said.

  A few silent moments passed as D’Mann looked Desirae up and down. He eyed her body language, seeing that she was definitely in need of some love and affection.

  “Why don’t we step in the house and shit?” D’Mann said, standing up. “I don’t like the idea of us out here talkin’ to each other, and my neighbors might be able to hear. That bitch next door always be try’na be up in people business.”

  Desirae agreed and D’Mann followed her into the house. Once inside, he quickly pushed the kitchen door closed and grabbed Desirae by her waist. He pulled her closer to him, seeing that she was smiling.

  “Nice to meet you,” D’Mann said, softly in her ear.

  “Hmm, hmm,” Desirae said.

  D’Mann pushed up against her ass, feeling the massiveness of it. “How much longer you got before you gotta go pick up your sons?”

  Desirae pulled her phone out and looked at it. “I gotta be back at my car in an hour,” she answered. “Why?”

  “You know,” D’Mann said. “If you want, we can chill a little bit longer. I gotta get outta these clothes, though.”

  Desirae turned around and looked into D’Mann’s eyes. She soon felt his hands sliding down the middle of her back before spreading out over her ass cheeks. />
  “Damn, you got a fat ass,” D’Mann said. “I know niggas tell you that shit all the time.” “Yeah,” Desirae said. “But niggas don’t get to see it all the time.”

  D’Mann gently slapped her ass. “You gon’ let me see it?” he asked. “You gon’ let a nigga like me see it, do I pass your tests and shit?”

  Desirae noticed that D’Mann was getting hard underneath his black pants. She could feel something thick and strong pressing against her.

  “I don’t know,” Desirae said. “I gotta see.”

  Desirae kept eye contact with D’Mann as she dropped down to her knees, right there in the middle of D’Mann’s kitchen floor. D’Mann allowed his hand to rise up her back until the palm of his hand gripped the dome of her head. He looked down at her beaten, swollen face, knowing that he was looking at a chick that just wanted to feel pretty and wanted again. And he was going to do his best to make sure she felt that way.

  As Desirae undid D’Mann’s belt then zipper, he told her, “You are so pretty. Like, for real. And I mean that shit.”

  Desirae smiled as she pulled on D’Mann’s pants then his gray boxer briefs. Just as she was gripping his dark, muscular thighs, his manhood popped out in front of her. Her face lit up with excitement as she looked at what had to be the fattest dick she’d ever seen. She wrapped her hands around it, holding it as if it were heavy and lifted it up to her lips.

  “Fuck,” D’Mann said, the word slipping out of his mouth. “Goddamn your mouth feel good as shit.”

  Desirae giggled as her head bobbed up and down on D’Mann’s manhood. His large, heavy balls swayed underneath, slapping against the inside of his thighs. Desirae’s slurping noises filled the kitchen as D’Mann turned his back to the kitchen counter, directly next to the sink, and leaned back. He never let up on his grip of Desirae’s head.

  “Fuck, Desirae,” D’Mann said. “Shit. I ain’t never had a chick suck this dick like this.” A bead of sweat rolled down his face. “Fuck.”