Sugar Baby: Day Three

IMG_5027Day Three

My body appeared to have been breathing; almost exhaling James and the magnificent loving I had just received. I lie there beside him watching him text his wife and decided that I would have to implement another male figure because if not I’d be addicted to James. He didn’t attempt to hide the fact he wanted to cuddle up behind me. He didn’t try to hide the fact that he wanted to penetrate me. He didn’t hide anything, but I didn’t feel comfortable. I waited until his light snoring entered my ear before getting cozy on the couch with my literature book and reading the required prose.

Realism had become my favorite genre by far with the movement of Charles Chesnutt and I loved to study all of the prominent African Americans that were introduced during these Caucasian dominating periods in history. I would be immediately consumed with how black folks saw the world, the struggle and the hustle with almost always being a victim of attacks from others. It would consume my mind and then I begin to wander about what I had become to get through college. Had I become a common whore? Was I a thot? Whatever the hell that is. I didn’t know how to call it. In the past, African Americans were so much more thought provoking and determined. They would do whatever they had to do to feed their family, their craft, and their spirit. I felt I would do the same thing; protect my mind because knowledge was a terrible thing to waste. With all of the ways to come up, I found an easy way. It was always easy for me to beautiful, to be desired, to be enough, but I always worked my ass off to be smarter than the next man. I always applied my brain to the things that mattered most to me and that’s how I ended up half sugar baby, half mistress to James. Whatever happened would happen. I hadn’t spent one red penny given to me on anything; I opened up a savings account and dumped the money in the account. I worked and with working I paid my bills, but with Mr. Davenport’s monies I put it to bed to allow it time to continue to stack.

“What are you reading?” James voice broke my concentration.

“The Wife of His Youth.” I replied without looking away from the dialect inserted in the story.

“Chesnutt?” He questioned.

“Yes, how’d you know?” I asked staring up at him.

“I did go to college you know? Nah, but my grandmother was a big advocate of African American literature so we would sit together on the porch, drink our lemonades, and we would take turns reading Chesnutt, Maya Angelou, and poetry she loved.” This struck a chord with me immediately. He wasn’t a slick talking cheater that made money as I only presumed.

“I am reading it for class and then writing an analysis on his work with colorism and regionalism during the American realism period. He’s one of the only African American perspectives presented to the class and so I’m very much interested in his other works.”

“You should be with Chesnutt’s use of dialect and how he used the characters to further the representation of the slave African versus the “blue vein” African in that period. It’s crazy if you think about it with all of our generations’ perpetuating dark skin versus light skin. Glad someone wasn’t afraid to speak up.” For the first time, I think I saw James as a person and not just a bank account. We sat on the couch reading excerpts, adapting the thesis for the paper, and enjoying cultural conversations that didn’t end with the ignorant comments that usually follow with a 20-year old boy.

That afternoon we for the first time had a reasonably wonderful conversation. I headed back to my place to get back to reality and get prepared for my school and work week. I wanted to lounge all night in the bed he paid for, but I needed to be fully aware of my slacking this weekend. Indeed, I had no homework due, but there was always something that could be accomplished.

“Hello.” I answered the phone as I ironed my charcoal pencil skirt.

“Hey pretty girl. Where’ve you been hiding lately?”

“Been relaxing and writing a paper for class. How’ve you been?” I questioned. Ron and I had been text messaging on and off, but while with James I didn’t want to come across as rude though he had to answer for his wife. Ron was date worthy and very sweet, but I had an issue with allowing too many distractions in. I had spent too much spare time with James and it was time to get back to the basics of life.

“I would like to come see you if that’s possible.”

“Not today. I have to go to dinner with my mother.”

“Can you please postpone baby girl? I have tickets to the Atlanta Dreams game tonight.”

“Let me call my mother and then I’ll let you know.” I hung up the phone and called my mother. She agreed to have lunch another day since I hadn’t been to an Atlanta Dreams game. She sounded pretty excited that I was being “young” and dating. I loved that woman. We talked about his looks, his education, and then I cut it short to call Ron back.

“Hey, I’m down tonight. My mother is excited that I want to go on a date.” I chuckled.

“Good, hopefully I will get to meet your mother when I become your man.”

“Slow it down. We are going on our first date.” We both laughed and hung up. I walked around the closet and started searching for the perfect outfit. I hated the girls who wore red bottoms to basketball games and to deliberately stray away from that I pulled out my favorite skinny jeans. The jeans that made my ass look like it was biting the denim and my waist looked like it was being synched in like the girls with those waist trainers. I pulled out a black peplum shirt to further accentuate my waist and butt. I pulled my hair into a high bun, accessorized with diamond studs, necklace, and a cute little ring from Forever Twenty-One. I slipped on my black and red 13’s by Jordan and waited for Ron. My lips were perfect with my Ruby Woo and I didn’t put on any other make-up because I wanted to enjoy myself being out and about and not trying too hard. I finished ironing my clothes, made sure I had my school bag packed, tidied up my bedroom, and relaxed on my couch waiting on Ron.

Ron towered me as I opened the door for him. He wore fitting khaki pants, white shirt that exposed his cut up body, black and white A hat that sat on his nicely. We matched each other pretty well, his chocolate skin was so sexy and his smile was great. I liked his body type, his style, and how tall he was. Not a lot of guys were my type, but Ron made me second guess dating.

“You are so beautiful Tia.” He stated as he opened his arms and pulled me in them. He smelled great, but not as sexy as James.

“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself love.” I grabbed my black and red clutch bag and we headed out the door. The entire ride to the arena I thought of James and the head he had given me the night before. I remembered my eyes rolling to the back of my head and the intensity in which he serviced me. I had closed my eyes slowly reminiscing until Ron grabbed my hand to hold it.

“Why you jump?” He chuckled.

“I didn’t expect you to grab my hand, my bad. I was thinking about school.” I lied.

“Relax baby girl. You are definitely too pretty to be stressin’ school, I know you get straight A’s.”

“I do have A’s, but there aren’t enough black women dominating fields of medicine or dominating any field other than ratchetness. I don’t pay all this tuition to get out and shake my ass for rappers.” He put his hands up and smiled.

“My bad baby my bad. I didn’t mean any harm by that. I was just saying.”

“Better come correct.” The entire ride to the arena was filled with jokes and decent conversation. We exited the car and he put his arm around my shoulder and I extended my arm around his waist securing a spot with him. We walked through the doors and heading to find our seats. We had decent seats and everything was actually going well between us and I’m not going to front and act like it wasn’t exciting being with a younger guy with regular clothes enjoying basketball.

“You want to go get something to snack on?”

“Sure.” We walked around until we found a concession stand that offered hot dogs and Coronas. We stood behind three people and cuddled up pretty nicely. We were laughing and giggling when I felt my hip vibrate. I pulled the IPhone off of my hip and saw SDJ on the line. Ron looked down but didn’t respond when I pulled my arm from around his waist to read the message.

Is that who I should be worried about? I immediately begin to slowly observe my surroundings. James could see me and he knew I was out on a date.

      Stalker much? J I responded back. Finally, I spotted him and a beautiful woman. She stood about 5’9 with a small waist, well-rounded behind, perky breast and a Taraji P. Henson bob. Her skin was the complexion of mahogany and his arm rested nicely around her waist on to her large ass.

      I like that you look happy. He texted.

      I see you’re with …? I had to know…Who was this woman?

      I’m with my wife. It had been confirmed that the woman that was having an “affair” was snuggled nicely next to her “meat” and guarding it feverishly. I completely ignored James’s location and continued hugging up with Ron. Was I jealous? I tried to alleviate the tension I was feeling. He was NOT my damn man. I got my hot dog, corona, and Ron’s hand before walking to my seat. I had received four more messages from James. As we returned, sat, and begin to enjoy the game my mind wandered to where the couple might be.

      “What’s on your mind Tia?” Ron asked. I appeared to be not as focused as I tried to be.

      “Nothing. Just trying to get used to watching women play. I’m used to Lebron, Bosh, and those other dudes playing.” I chuckled. I sounded so dumb, but it worked. He started explaining how he got the tickets and we could have gone anywhere I wanted to go. I explained I was having a great time and I wanted to be there with him. Finally, the corona hit Ron’s bladder and he headed to drain the snake. I reached pulled my phone to read the messages he texted.

We are here for one of my wives clients…So you are ignoring me because I’m with my wife?… He isn’t for you. I believe that I would be better equipped for you…It’s okay darling, enjoy your evening. All of the messages put a smile on my face. He felt some type of way about me enjoying Ron. I responded with only one thought: Enjoy your wife. With that, I enjoyed my evening with Ron.

      The game ended and we both sat on my couch. Between my thighs, I was on fire. I wanted to be royally pounded because I royally wanted James. It was so much more than his money though that was motivation enough. It was turning into his personality, his intelligence, his face, the way he licked his lips, the way he ate my box, the way he just seemed to stun this young brilliant woman potentially too focused to give a damn. But I did. I wanted him. I pushed Ron onto my couch and mounted him pressing my tongue in his mouth accepting every morsel of tongue until I realized—fucking him wouldn’t satisfy the craving I had. Nothing would but James. We continued to make out until we both stopped and agreed it was time for him to go. He was a true gentleman in his approach, we both had lust lingering in our eyes but I closed the door and climbed in my bed. As I doze off, I received a call.

“Yes James.” I yawned.

“Did he eat it like I did?” confidence tripped off his lips and it pissed me off.

“Does she taste as sweet as I do?” I retorted.

“I want you tonight.”

“You cannot have me. Goodnight.” I hung up the phone and put my phone on airplane mode before drifting off to sleep undisturbed.

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4 thoughts on “Sugar Baby: Day Three

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