The Diary of a Side Chick (Side Chick Diaries Book 1), страница 1
The Diary of a Side Chick
A Naptown Hood Drama
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are all fictitious for the reader’s pleasure. Any similarities to real people, places, events, living or dead are all coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit content that is intended for ADULTS ONLY (+18).
Sneak Peek: The Diary of a Side Chick 2
Desirae sunk down into her white living room couch. She pulled her long brown legs up onto the couch and bent them closer to her body. Tonight was going to be the perfect night. She wasn’t really one for snow, but this particular January was turning out to be snowy more so than just the usual cold. c
Eight or nine inches of snow had fallen on top of the city between the morning and evening. Now, at almost 9 o’clock on Sunday night, Desirae sat on her couch. Her white robe hugged her wide hips and thick thighs before coming in for her thin waist. She was starting to feel impatient – feeling like it might be another one of those nights there would be some reason he couldn’t stop through. It didn’t happen all the time, but it would happen sporadically enough that it became one more thing to be on the 21-year-old’s mind.
Desirae had told herself that she wasn’t going to bug him today. At the same time, though, she really did have love for him and had been wondering all day if his trip down to Louisville went all right. Desirae, sitting in the quiet apartment, grabbed her cell phone off her stone and glass coffee table. While looking up at her laid out apartment – a big aquarium, a huge polar bear-looking area rug, and a dining room table that can only be found at the best antique shops in the Midwest – she called Tron. At this point, she could feel herself getting in her feelings. She was even getting a little wet just anticipating when he would finally pull into a parking spot downstairs and be at her door.
The phone was ringing. By the third ring, Desirae started to feel anxious. Thoughts swirled through her mind: Why isn’t he picking up? That nigga done did it again. Ain’t even sent no text.
Finally, Tron answered. Desirae couldn’t help but smile and look up toward the ceiling. “I thought you wasn’t gon answer for a minute,” Desirae said.
Tron snickered, his deep voice sounding so smooth through the phone. “Scared what, baby? That I wasn’t gon come through again?”
Desirae smiled. “Yeah, nigga.”
“Baby, what I tell you about doubtin’ me?” Tron said. “Huh? What I tell you about doubting a nigga?”
Desirae rolled her eyes and smiled, always finding the way Tron’s play got serious with her a big turn on.
“Don’t,” she said.
“That’s right,” Tron said. “I text you earlier sayin’ that I would be leaving down there in an hour. That was like five hours ago. It snowed a little bit down here.”
“You alright though, ain’t you?” Desirae asked, really sounding concerned.
“Yeah,” Tron answered. “A nigga can drive in snow, you know.”
“Yeah,” Desirae said.
“You seen the way I drive in that pussy, Desirae, ain’t you?” Tron said.
Desirae couldn’t help but break out smiling. “Nigga, calm down,” she said, not being able to wipe the smile away from her smooth face. She licked her lip-glossed lips. “How long before you think you gon be?”
“Uhh,” Tron said. “Maybe thirty minutes I think.”
“Aight then,” Desirae said. “Call me when you close so I can have the door open.”
“Aight, baby,” Tron said. “I see you in a sec.”
Just as Desirae was starting to hang up, she heard Tron call her name. She lifted the phone back up to her face. “Huh?”
“I miss that pussy,” Tron said.
Desirae thought of a few things she could say, but simply told him to hurry up and get there. He laughed as they ended the call.
There she sat, waiting in her apartment with a bottle of wine chilling in the refrigerator. Two wine glasses sat on the dining room table. In the middle of the coffee table, Desirae had placed an already-rolled blunt. Tron always liked when he came through and she would have a nice blunt waiting too. Doing that was always a sure fire way to get him into the mood and to help him calm down a little bit.
Even though she was happily anticipating Tron getting there, the talk the two of them had had a couple of weeks ago sat in the back of her mind. She had seen him a few times since then, but they were under the kind of circumstances where she knew it wouldn’t be right to bring it up. No matter how much she wanted to talk about it, she still knew that she needed to bring it up in the right way, at the right time. If she didn’t, he might just totally change his mind. Desirae looked around her apartment. It was spotless – just how he liked it. The white carpet even had the lines in it from the vacuum cleaner. The stainless-steel kitchen appliances almost glistened next to an empty sink and a clear countertop. No television on; no radio.
Desirae smiled, knowing that today she had even moisturized her entire five-foot-two body with olive oil rather than lotion. Her new perfume was a perfume she couldn’t even pronounce. And that was all right because she knew that she smelled good. Just the day before, her hairstylist Rhonda (this big-haired beauty from Granada) had managed to squeeze her in at the last minute. Desirae knew that her hair was pure perfection – long, black, and almost weightless to the touch. Her girl Reese did her nails for her, and did them so good Desirae always insisted that she open a little shop for herself.
Desirae smiled, thinking about how even under these circumstances she could keep the attention of a nigga as fine as Tron. For several minutes, she lay back on the couch and moved her toes as thoughts passed through her mind. After a couple of minutes, she started regretting doing this. It only made her time waiting for him more anxious. Every minute seemed to be two minutes long. They didn’t get to spend a lot of time together, and she wasn’t sure if he was really going to spend the night or if something would come up that would call him home. He had told her that he was going to spend the night, and that was what Desirae wanted. She was going to make sure that if he did, it would be just the kind of night a nigga wanted.
Eventually, Desirae’s phone vibrated, telling her that she had received a text. She picked her phone up, unlocked it quickly, and looked. She knew that more than likely it would be Tron. And it was. His text: 15 min away.
Desirae smiled, almost wanting to jump up and go give herself one last check in the mirror in her bathroom. She decided against doing that, though. Instead, she just relaxed for a few minutes more before getting up and going to unlock the door. She dimmed the lights – just a little but not too much – and went back to waiting on the couch. Soon enough, Tron’s heavy footsteps came up the st
“You know it’s open, nigga,” Desirae said, smiling.
Just then, Tron came in and closed the door behind him. At six feet four inches, his tall but toned body towered in the walkway right by the apartment door. He slid out of his black coat and set it on the back of a chair at the dining room table. His head turned toward Desirae, a big smile on his face.
“Wassup, baby?” Tron asked.
“Wassup wit you?” Desirae answered. Tron leaned over the couch and the two of them kissed. When Tron broke away, Desirae couldn’t help but think about how good of a kisser he was and how his soft lips felt to her. “How as everything down in Louisville?”
“It was alright,” Tron said. “You know, the same ole nigga shit. Nobody agreeing on anything.”
“Yeah, that’s the way it be when people die sometime,” Desirae said.
Part of Tron’s family was in Indianapolis and the other part was mainly in Louisville. The two cities are less than two hours apart, with Indianapolis, or Naptown, being a little bigger. Tron’s grandfather in Louisville had passed a couple of months ago and there were some issues in the family; people just could not agree on what should be done with his couple of properties in the West End. Being a grandchild, Tron really wasn’t involved in the issue all the much. However, Tron also had a daughter down in Louisville who lived with her mother. Desirae could feel what Tron was going through, but at the same time she was happy when he would take little trips down to see his family sometimes. He would always drive down for the day, but tell his chick who he lives with that he was going to spend the night down there with his people.
“The shit is getting crazy, but fuck it,” Tron said. Just then, he turned around and opened the bottle of wine. He poured them both a glass and walked the glasses over to the couch, slowly handing Desirae’s to her. He sat down next to her, looking her body up and down and liking how that body looked lying back in the couch in a white robe. On top of that, the scent of that perfume really got him going. Tron always had a soft spot for a thick, brown chick who smelled good.
“How was the drive up, baby?” Desirae asked as she took a sip of her wine. “You know I was worried about my nigga with this snow we done got.”
Tron shrugged and smirked. “I ain’t scared of no snow.”
“Yeah, but it had to take you longer than usual,” Desirae said.
“Hell, yeah,” Tron said. “You gotta slow down, stay far back from people. It wasn’t too many people out driving today, so it wasn’t as bad as I done had before. A nigga just stayed calm, but I ain’t gon lie. Time did fuckin move slow. A nigga was try’na hurry up and get here.”
“I’m glad you made it,” Desirae said. The two of them kissed a short but sensual kiss that warmed Desirae up.
“So what you been doing all day?” Tron asked.
Desirae smiled and shrugged. “Well, this morning I thought about going to church, but you know me and Reese went out last night, so that didn’t happen. I did wind up going over to my mama’s house when I knew she’d be outta church. I chilled over there for a minute then came home and just took it easy today.”
“That’s wassup,” Tron said.
Desirae was thinking about asking Tron if he had planned to live up to his promise. At the same time, she was scared to, but it was hard for her to look past the fact that he didn’t come in with a bag. Eventually, she thought fuck it and went ahead and asked.
“Oh, and I went and got some food earlier this afternoon,” Desirae said. “I figured since you had mentioned the idea of you chilling over here tonight, I would have some food for you. I bought some shrimp. Hot wings. I can make that one dish I made for you, remember?”
Tron knew that she was going to bring up him spending the night, and he was so happy that she did. It had been one of the things that crossed his mind on his drive up, causing him to almost laugh when he thought about how she might sneak and bring it up. He grabbed a handful of Desirae’s under-thigh, hanging so thickly from the underside of her bent leg and leading down to her perfect, round ass.
“I didn’t mention the idea, I told you I was,” Tron said, smiling. He locked eyes with Desirae. “What, you didn’t believe a nigga?” Tron asked.
Desirae smiled and looked away, playfully. “You know how sometimes wifey come calling and you gotta go.”
Tron kissed Desirae softly. “Yeah, but it ain’t gon be like that tonight. Be real with a nigga…why you didn’t think I was gon stay the night?”
Desirae looked down at the floor then up at Tron. “You ain’t bring no bag of clothes in here.”
Tron smirked and smiled. “You know a nigga ain’t gon be wearin his clothes up in here.” Tron flicked the opening of Desirae’s robe, showing where her titties were pressing together. “And neither is you,” he added.
Desirae smiled. “You see I got that blunt over there for you?”
Tron glanced at the glass coffee table and smiled. “Yeah, I did,” he said. “You ready to smoke?”
“You know I am,” Desirae said.
Tron picked the blunt up and looked at it, rolling it over on all of its sides. “This shit is rolled pretty good,” he said, complimenting the blunt and nodding his head.
Tron lit the blunt and the two of them passed it back and forth to one another. Tron got Desirae to talking a little about her family simply because he didn’t want to talk about his. Desirae was very into the conversation, slowly feeling faded from the blunt. Eventually, when it was Tron’s turn with the blunt, Desirae slid out of the couch and onto the floor. Tron smiled, blowing smoke out of his mouth.
“What the fuck you doin?” he asked, in a playful way. Desirae didn’t respond. Instead, she just looked up at his smooth brown-skinned face and bright eyes. Tron was getting turned on by this shit, loving how wide Desirae’s hips looked when she was down on her knees. That ass looked humongous when she arched her back and crawled over in front of Tron. Just then, she reached up and started undoing his belt buckle. Tron smiled, taking a hit of the blunt and knowing just what time it was. He always looked forward to this.
Tron just leaned his head back, one arm holding his glass of wine and the other holding the blunt, as Desirae undid his belt buckled and pulled his pants down.
“There you go, baby,” Tron said, knowing that he was already hard.
With Tron’s pants at his ankles, Desirae reached up and grabbed Tron’s meat. Tron groaned, keeping his head leaned back as he looked up at the ceiling while Desirae did her thing. She lived clear on the other side of the city from where he lived, but some days he couldn’t help himself but to make the drive out to her. Desirae was good at what she did, and she could even deep throat him. On top of that, she never complained or acted like she was scared of the dick.
“Fuck,” Tron said, feeling good from the blunt and the wine. He now looked down at Desirae’s head rising up and down while she went on passionately, being motivated by the sounds that Tron was making. “Fuck, Desirae. Shit.”
Desirae gave it her all, even going with the flow when Tron sat his drink and the blunt on the coffee table and took control of her head. She just looked up at him while he enjoyed every second of essentially controlling her mouth. And she always made sure to let him take his time with it, so he could really enjoy it and get with her what he wasn’t getting at home.
After about twenty minutes, Tron couldn’t take anymore. He wanted to dig inside of Desirae so bad. He was feeling good in more than one way, and the way the white robe hugged Desirae’s body made everything even better. Even though he’d seen her body dozens of times at this point, every time it seemed to be new to him. He joked with his boy about how if anything, Desirae’s ass was getting fatter. Whatever the case, Tron was ready to have some.
He let go of Desirae’s head and lay his arms along the tops of the couch. “Sit on it,” he told her.
Desirae took her mouth off of Tron and held his manhood at the base. “A ni
“Fuck yeah,” Tron said, nodding and grinning. “Take that fuckin’ robe off, baby.”
Without a second thought, Desirae stood up and began to slide her robe off of her shoulders then down to the floor. She stood in front of Tron, allowing him a few seconds to have a good and deep look at her body. His eyes locked on her chest, then her hips, then her fat thighs. “Turn around real quick,” Tron told her.
Desirae did just that. Within seconds, she felt Tron’s hand slap her ass from the top. “Damn that shit is fat,” Tron said before leaning back into the couch. “Sit on this dick.”
Desirae turned around, pushed her knees into the couch cushions, and lowered herself. Her eyes practically rolled back in her head as she felt, inch by inch, Tron stretch her and fill her up. Just as she squealed a little out loud, Tron had wrapped his strong hands around her waist. He squeezed her thick hips as he slowly tightened his grip, asking her if she missed his dick. Desirae did miss it, of course. She was so gone at that moment – the moment where she finally got to have some more of it. On top of that, she was in an even better mood because he was surely spending the night. That meant she’d get the wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night dick and the morning dick. She leaned forward, pushing her titties into his face as he guided her up and down.
For thirty minutes, Tron and Desirae changed positions more times than they remembered. If either of them had the least bit of a desire to feel the other one in a different way, it was whatever, and they would go for it. Tron’s favorite part was long-stroking it with Desirae bent over and gripping the kitchen counter. Desirae loved how she could really let loose and ride when they were on the couch, but nothing beat having her back pressed into the cold dining room table while Tron really sweated it out. Every time he came through and got up inside of her, she came and came multiple times. No other nigga had ever had that kind of effect on her.
By the time Tron dropped it off inside of Desirae, they had fucked their way all the way into her bedroom. Tron lay on the bed, almost in the middle, with his head resting against Desirae’s plush pillows. Desirae ran out into the living room and came back in with the rest of the blunt. There, in the dark in her bedroom, they shared the rest of the blunt while their bodies lay across one another. The only light in the bedroom was from the streetlight out in the parking lot of her apartment building. It shined down on the snow-topped houses and cars around the complex, making outside seem a little brighter.