Falling for My Side Dude Read online

  “What if I have an issue outside of business hours? Do I still call you?”

  “Have a great day, Mr. Sanders.” I got up and walked to the door.

  He walked over to me, took my hand, and kissed it. “You’re the sexiest lawyer I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen many. I look forward to us working together.”

  “Likewise,” I said.

  I watched as he walked over to Dana. I closed my door and sat back down at my desk.

  “Woeiii,” I whispered.

  Mr. Sanders was definitely a character. He was a little on the short side, but he was handsome with a strong voice. Whatever he was in, he was definitely on boss status. His in- control attitude made me feel some kind of way. I had to snap out of that fast. I was a law-abiding citizen, and he was a criminal. There was no way our paths could ever cross outside of business.

  The rest of the day was spent on going over different cases that I was representing. I really loved my job as a defense attorney. I was known for my tenacity and no-nonsense attitude. I believed him when he said that my name was ringing bells in the streets because I was known for helping dope boys beat their convictions. Once in a while, I might lose a case, but even then my clients were happy with the reduced sentences that I got them.

  My mind kept wandering back to Mr. Sanders. I’d never met a character like him. His case was a tough one, especially that gun charge, and I knew if I wanted to get him off I would have to put in extra work and use all of my skills.

  It was past 4:00 p.m., and I was ready to call it a day. I tried not to take my work home, but today I made an exception. I grabbed Mr. Sanders’s folder and my briefcase. I cut the lights out and walked out of the office. “You’re ready?”

  “Yes. I put the check in the safe. I will deposit it in the morning. I also responded to the e-mails and sent out all the e-mails.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  “You’re welcome. I think that guy earlier has a crush on you,” she said while smiling.

  “Hmm. Why would you think that?”

  “The way he looked at you. He also asked me if you were always this uptight. He smiled when he asked.”

  “Well, I didn’t see that. Plus, I’m a happily married woman.”

  “I hear that loud and clear.” She laughed.

  We walked to the elevator, talking and laughing. We parted ways in the parking lot. I got into my car and pulled off. I wasn’t ready to tackle this traffic. As bad it was in the mornings, the evenings were the same.

  On the drive home, I couldn’t help but think about my life. Here I was with a good job and a family who loved me, but I was not happy. I was tired of playing the happy wife while, inside, I was silently suffering. Yes, he played the doting husband and all but, to be honest, it was all a front. When no one was looking, Trent Ipswich was a cruel son of a bitch. As I recalled, something a year back had piqued my interest.

  I was doing laundry, and I saw pink lipstick on his white collared shirt, which he supposedly wore to a retirement party for one of his boys. I put the shirt to my nose, and it smelled like sweat and cheap perfume. “Ewww.” I quickly removed that shit from my nose and walked up the stairs. I walked into the study where he was and confronted his ass.

  “So, who the fuck was lying up on you?” I threw the shirt on him.

  “What in God’s name are you talking about?” He looked at me like he had just seen a ghost.

  “Pink lipstick on your shirt and that cheap-ass perfume! How do you explain that?” I stared down at him.

  “Calm down. That is your lipstick, isn’t it?”

  “We’ve been married for how many years? You’ve never seen my black ass wear no damn lipstick. And I damn sure don’t wear no cheap-ass perfume. Trent, you tried it, but please come up with something better than that,” I snapped on that ass.

  “I swear to you, Malaya, I’m not stepping out on you. I don’t know where that lipstick came from. And as far as perfume being on my shirt, that’s bullshit!”

  I looked at this fool, sitting in front of me, sweating bullets; he was nervous as hell. I knew he was lying, and it only angered me that he thought he could feed me bullshit and I would believe him.

  “I’m telling you this: you are a fucking fool if you think I believe a word that’s coming out of your damn mouth. I’m not even mad. You’re fucking one of your whores; at least now you can leave me the fuck alone.”

  I didn’t wait for a response. I walked off on his ass and went back to doing what I was doing.

  The honking of a horn jolted me back to reality. After that day, Trent started acting as if he was so in love with me again. I didn’t say anything else about him cheating on me. That didn’t mean that I didn’t notice when his phone would ring late at night, and he would get up and tiptoe out of the room.

  I’m not going to lie; at first, I was kind of hurt, or maybe I was more shocked. Up until that point, I really thought he was only a jerk, and he wasn’t fucking anything. Even though I was angry with the way he treated me, I thought we could’ve gone to counseling and gotten our relationship back on track. But that day confirmed everything, and I gave up on hoping for a better us. I viewed him the same way that I viewed the rest of these fuck niggas who didn’t know how to keep their dicks in their pants. Now, I couldn’t stand his smell, much less his touch. Every time this bastard touched me, I cringed because I would rather he not touch me at all.

  Things went from bad to worse. He became fascinated with fucking me in the ass all the time. Don’t get me wrong, I can be a freak at times and, yes, I’ve been fucked in the ass before. However, I’ve got a pussy, which is tight and wet, so I didn’t understand what my husband’s sudden fascination with my asshole was all about. The first few times, I allowed him to grease up his dick and slide in. I also noticed that he would be more turned on when we were having anal sex than when he was up in my pussy.

  “Trent, what’s going on? Lately all you want to do is anal sex.”

  “Damn, Malaya! Why do you have to pick at every damn thing? Just toot your ass back here so I can get all the way in.”

  “You know what? Hell no. I ain’t doing this shit no more. I’m a woman, and I’ve got a pussy. That’s where I want to be fucked at.”

  I got up out of the bed and walked into the shower. That was the last time I allowed him to enter my ass and, because I refused to do it anymore, he stayed with an attitude. He barely asked for sex, which was cool by me. I bought a new We-vibe 4 vibrator, which satisfied me way better than Trent ever did. This was my first time using a toy and, boy, was I satisfied. I experienced multiple orgasms back to back, and my pussy was fully serviced.

  I thought about getting a divorce but quickly decided against it. I wasn’t going to leave my home and everything we’d accomplished so one of these whores could walk up in my shit and reap the benefits. I also wondered why he hadn’t asked for one either, but I thought I knew the answer. He knew I would drag his ass through the mud and take my girls.

  I slowly pulled into the driveway. I noticed Trent’s car in the driveway, which was strange because he was supposed to be attending some sort of luncheon for one of his police buddies. I glanced at my watch; the girls were still at their afterschool band practice.

  I got out of my car and walked toward my door. My palms were getting sweaty, and my throat started tightening up on me. I wasn’t sure why he would lie to me about not being at home. I took my time and opened the front door. I slipped out of my loafers and tiptoed toward the stairs; something in me was yelling, don’t go up there. I ignored the voice and quietly crept up the stairs. I heard screams, as in sexual screams, as soon as I approached my bedroom door. I walked to the door and slowly pushed the door ajar and stood there! Shocked would be an understatement. My husband, Trent, was fucking his slut in our marital bed that we shared.

  “Fuck me, daddy! Fuck me, daddy,” this slut screamed as he fucked her.

  They were so into the heat of things that no one heard when I walke
d over to my dresser and took out my gun. I also pulled up my iPhone camera and started recording. I wanted to have proof of this nigga’s antics.

  “Hello, Trent!” I said.

  “What the fuck? Uh-uh.” He jumped off of her and turned around, looking at me with his dick still hard.

  “Trent, who is this?”

  “This is my . . .” he stuttered and acted like something was stuck in his throat.

  “What’s the matter, honey, the cat got your fucking tongue? Well, I’m his wife. Now, get the fuck up out of my shit before I blow both of y’all motherfucking heads off.”

  “Malaya, baby, I can explain. It’s not what it seems. I can explain. Please put that gun down.”

  “Nigga, shut your motherfucking mouth. You’re nasty as fuck. You bring this ho in my bed and, to make matters worse, your nasty ass ain’t wearing no fucking condom. Now, get the fuck out!” I screamed and fired a shot in the wall.

  “Are you fucking crazy? Put that thing down,” Trent hollered.

  The bitch scooted in the corner and crawled to retrieve her clothes. She gathered them and tried to run out the room. I was shocked as fuck! This wasn’t a bitch. This was a nigga with a wig on his head. I just kept staring at this faggot standing in front of me with a dick the size of my arm. I swallowed hard and blinked a few times.

  “Listen, you faggot, the next time you choose to fuck a married man, make sure he takes your ass to the hotel because you might end up dead over a dick that ain’t yours in the first place,” were the only words I managed to say.

  “Bitch, fuck you. Trent is my dick; you better ask him.” That cute little voice that I heard a few minutes ago was gone. This motherfucker was masculine as fuck. He looked at me and then stormed out the room, uttering some shit under his breath.

  “Baby, please listen to me. I’m so, so, so—”

  “Nigga, don’t be sorry. You are a fucking faggot. You were in my bed, fucking another man! You nasty fuck, just get your shit and get out of my house. You will be hearing from my lawyer soon,” I yelled with everything inside of me.

  “Divorce? The one time I fucked up, you’re screaming about divorce. I love you; I gave you every damn thing. Took you on expensive trips and made sure you never wanted for anything. You can’t leave me,” he said with confidence.

  “See, I should just splatter your brain all over this fucking floor, but I ain’t no dumb bitch. I’ve got too much shit going for myself to waste it on a garbage-ass nigga who is obviously a shit fucker. Oh, my God, no, how long have you been fucking dudes? Nah, don’t answer that. Get your shit and get out before I do something I might regret.”

  “You’re crazy as hell if you think I’m goin’ to just walk away from my shit that I spent years building. This is my shit, you’re my fucking wife, and those are my fucking kids. Y’all belong to me; you hear me? And you better delete that motherfucking video.”

  I pointed the gun at his dick. “What’s the matter, Trent? You’re worried that the world will see you in action? What do you think your mother will say when she sees her son pounding the next nigga’s ass?”

  “You bitch!” He lunged toward me.

  “Get out or I’ll shoot that ol’ nasty-ass, limp dick off,” I yelled as I took a step back.

  He looked at me with his fist balled up. He shook his head and grabbed his clothes off the chair. “I’m leaving now because I don’t feel like fighting with you but, best believe, I will be back.”

  I was going to say something but, instead, I just stared at this nigga. Actually, I felt bad for him because he had no idea what the fuck he was really saying. I was never a weak bitch, and I damn sure wasn’t gonna start today. I watched as he grabbed a few things and stuffed them in a duffle bag. He mumbled something under his breath as he walked through the door. I really didn’t care to know what he said. Seconds later, I heard the garage door go up. I walked over to my bedroom window, and I saw him backing out of the driveway.

  I turned back around, and I stood there staring at the bed that they were just fucking in. I knew I had to get rid of the mattress. There was no way I was going to lie on that mattress that this faggot-ass nigga was fucking on.

  I heard the door open, and I looked at my phone. It was time for the girls to come home. I walked down the stairs to make sure he wasn’t coming back in.

  “Hey, Mommy,” they said in unison.

  “Hey, my babies.” I gave each of them a hug and a kiss on the cheeks. “Do y’all have homework?”

  “I’ve got math and science,” Nyesha said.

  “I did mine on the bus,” Myesha said.

  “Okay, well, get to it, Nyesha; and tonight is a soup kind of night.”

  “All righty, Mother,” they said as they walked off up the stairs.

  I tried my best to not let on that anything was going on. My girls were very close to their daddy and, right now, I had no idea how I was going to break the news to them that their daddy was a faggot and that we wouldn’t be a family ever again. I’d never lied to my children, and I wouldn’t be starting anytime soon.

  I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of red wine out of the cabinet and poured a tall glass. I was definitely hurt because, even though I suspected that he was fucking around on me, to actually see it in front of me kind of blew my mind.

  I took a few big gulps and swallowed fast. I needed this. I wished I were a smoker because I definitely could’ve used a cigarette right now. “Damn you, Trent,” I cried, and threw the glass into the wall. “Damn you. What a fool I’ve been,” I said out loud.

  I felt tears well up in my eyes, but I used everything in me to stop them. I refused to waste one tear on a nigga who had done me wrong. I walked off. I guessed I was sleeping in the guest bedroom tonight. I took a quick shower, made sure the girls were straight, and then I lay down until it was time to make dinner.

  * * *

  I tossed and turned all night. I couldn’t believe the nerve of this man. I wondered how many other niggas I didn’t know about he had brought up in my house. It sickened my stomach because I had sex with him, and I sucked his dick, the same dick that he stuck inside of another nigga’s ass. I could have any kind of sexual disease and didn’t know about it. Anger rose up in me as tears finally started to flow. I dug my face into my pillow and let it all out. I was hurting deep down, even though I tried to conceal it. I tried my damnedest, but I couldn’t hold it in; my heart had a mind of its own. I cried until the tears were dried up. I thought about calling my mama, just to hear a few comforting words, but how would I tell my mama what I saw? I was too embarrassed to tell anyone. I lay there, thinking until I dozed off.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Malaya

  I was up bright and early. I called the office to let Dana know that I would be working from home today. I had a few things to do like calling the locksmith so I could get these locks changed. I also needed to get Trent’s shit out of my house. I knew the law, and I knew that I had to give him time to get his shit out, but I really didn’t give two fucks about that.

  I got dressed and got in my car. I needed to find a nice mattress, so I headed to Macy’s; I thought that was where I bought my last one. On my way there, my mind was all over the place. I knew I loved my husband, but there was no way I could forgive him for what he did to me. I quickly dismissed that thought. I strongly believed that a man could only treat you the way you allowed him to treat you.

  My phone kept ringing while I was driving, but I didn’t bother to pick it up. I had a strong feeling that it was Trent. I really didn’t have anything to say to that man. It was over for me.

  I parked and got out of the car. I sashayed into the mall like I didn’t have a care in this world. That was how great M•A•C makeup was, concealing pain.

  * * *

  I had to wait until tomorrow for them to deliver my mattress. As soon as I got home, I called the locksmith. Thirty minutes later, he arrived and changed all of the locks for me. I wouldn’t feel safe in this ho
use if Trent had a set of keys. I would hate if I had to kill my husband in front of his children.

  I also called my doctor to set up an appointment to get checked out. I hadn’t had any symptoms of any kind, but I had to be sure. Only God knew how long he’d been fucking other men.

  “Oh, my God,” I yelled out. Now it all made sense; this nigga was fucking me in the ass because he was a faggot. Not because my pussy was loose, but because that was what he loved to do. I racked my brain to see if there were any other signs, but there were none; he was married, he had children, and he was a macho dude. He didn’t have one feminine trait that I could think of. I was so confused. I even questioned what I saw, but I knew for a fact that the nigga Trent had in the room had a horse dick, almost touching his knees.

  Even though I was sick to my stomach, I still had to cook dinner that night. My girls had soup the night before, so another night in a row was a no-no. I decided to bake some chicken thighs along with mashed potatoes and green beans. My appetite was gone, so I wasn’t going to eat. However, I did pour me a glass of wine.

  I sat at the table as the girls ate their dinner. I wanted to wait until another day, but I decided to get it over with now. “Girls, I need to talk to you, both of you.”

  “Did something happen, Ma? You’re not dying, are you?” Nyesha joked.

  “Ha-ha. No, not yet.” I laughed at her. “Anyway, your daddy is not out of town like I said yesterday. The truth is, Daddy no longer lives here.”

  “What do you mean? He moved out?” Myesha quizzed.

  “Well, your daddy did something bad to me, and I asked him to leave. Earlier today, I changed all the locks so he can’t come back in here.”

  “Really, Mom? You’re just goin’ to throw Daddy out like that?”

  “Listen, little girl, lower your damn voice before I do it for you. Like I said, your daddy did something bad, so he is not going to live with us anymore.”

  “I’m going to call my daddy. I know you’re making this up.” Myesha jumped up and ran out of the kitchen.

  All I could do was put my head down. I knew how close my children were to their father, but Myesha was extra close with him.