"It's me, can I come in?"
She opened the door for him, smiling, "Who was on the phone?"
He sighed, closed the door behind him and sat on the toilet, looking up at her. "It was my father."
"Oh? What did he want?" She was fixing her hair, pinning the sides up.
"Sylvia, he wanted me to know, that the Chief of police in Camp Daniels, is investigating the disappearance of John Sykes. It appears, that his family has reported him missing."
She paused with a hairpin between her teeth, and slowly turned her head to look down at him, moving it away from her mouth, "I see. And your father, called to tell you, why?"
"The questions he's asking about his disappearance, are directed towards me, as maybe being the reason he's disappeared." He swallowed the lump in his throat, his heart speeding up it's beat.
Sylvia stood staring down at him, it must have been a full 2 minutes or more, before she smiled and said, "That's ridiculous. If he's missing, that's their problem. It's got nothing to do with us, right?"
Shawn could only stare up at her.
"Right - my husband?" She asked again.
"Right - nothing to do with us." He agreed.
She turned back to pinning her hair, looking into the mirror she announced, "That's not our problem. We have enough to worry about with Angela and getting our home built. Keeping her safe, our family safe. Our family, is our first priority. My - first priority. And you, my husband, are the head of this family - I'll be damned if I'm willing to trade you off over a piece of trash like John Sykes. Thanks for letting me know, we're fine. Now let me get downstairs and get dinner on, can't believe I slept this day away. You hungry baby?"
Shawn stood tall over his wife, looking down at her. "My God, you were sent there, for me."
Sylvia reached up and stroked his bristly cheek, "Yes, I was - and nobody, is going to step in between us, and fuck with this family. Nobody! And wherever John Sykes is, for what he did to Shanna, may he rot in hell. Shave baby, you lookin' rough. Deidre, Charlie and Jeremiah are coming over to go over the plans with you about the house." She turned to leave the bathroom when Shawn pulled her back, shocked, stunned by the change in her.
"So, you're not upset with me, stressed about it?"
"Shawn, yesterday is gone, I can't change yesterday. But my tomorrows, I have a child to raise, Angela. I have another to give birth to, Jesse James. I have a novel to write. I have a home to decorate, and too much else to worry about. You did what you had to do, right?"
"Yes."
"That's that. Because as I prayed to God last night, I can't give this man up now, not now - not for nobody ... and I do mean, no-body." She declared with tears welling up in her eyes. "This is it, we are - what we are - and we will do what we have to do, to make it. Survival of the fittest, that's the new name of the game. Now shave - I'm gonna go put dinner on."
Chapter 268
Chicago...
Jake drove singing along with a song he would cover in his first album, 'Kiss you all over', by Exile. He shook his head, hoping to get a grip of himself and soon. He realized he spent too many miles thinking about that woman, about Zonobe. Yet, now, nearing home, nearing his lady, and hearing this song, singing along with it, she pulled him in as no woman he'd known ever could.
Vivian - all he could think about now, hearing the song fade off, was doing exactly what the lyrics indicated so strongly. Yes indeed, he wanted to get there, and do just that, lay her down and kiss her all over. He loved her, he knew that he did. Just thinking about her in terms of the song, stirred and aroused him, tightening the thigh area of his jeans. It was a shame that Paul was there, because were he not, he'd be laying her down for certain. His mind kept seeing her slender dark body. He loved the color of her skin running against his, the contrast of his throbbing, turgid length, disappearing into her tight ebony folds. Jake felt perspiration instantly burst to the surface of his skin, his heart leap, giving him a strong course of palpitations as his adrenaline took flight. As the remembered scent of her, lay dormant in a portion of his brain, his rush of passion ignited it and he could smell her; he lengthened, he hardened a bit more. Jake had to shift as he drove.
"Dammit, why the hell did I let him stay?" He was mumbling to himself about Paul, because right now, he needed to make love to Vivian. For that, he was willing to delay getting immediately back on the road again. "Think about something else, think about something else." He tried to coach himself, but all that came to him was the fact, that she was fertile right now; ripe, ready, waiting. He could think of nothing better than impregnating her young body, filling it with his seed as he knew he could and would, first opportunity he was given - or rather, first opportunity he took. He had to shift once more, straighten his leg, which didn't work, because his foot was on the pedal. He clicked the big eighteen wheeler into auto so he could move his leg, shift that certain something that reacted strongly to his current thoughts of a dark, naked Vivian stretched out on her back, writhing from his touch, her skin glistening with a sheen that made him want to kiss and lick her all over.
"Fuckin' hell man - think of something else! Anything else, hell, m'dick get any harder, I'm gonna have to pull over." He scolded himself. He still had a few miles to go before he reached Chicago and her, and even when he did reach her, he couldn't have her, because Paul was there.
"Ah, Paul." Thankfully, his thoughts did shift, "Okay son, what in hell have you been up to there? Jackie, huh?" Jake shook his head, that didn't sound too good. He thought about her, Jackie. She was on the petite side if compared to Vivian's height. Compact, sturdy, nice figure. Nice face and features. Comparing her to his son, he couldn't help but wonder, had something happened between them? Jake sighed, "Why do I get a feeling, my boy is no longer a virgin?" He pictured his son, who was finally growing up, coming out of the boyish looks and acne he'd suffered with as a young teenager from 13 to 17 - until his grandmother, Gert, had gotten him something for his skin. It had worked, that, or he was simply growing out of it. Either way, what was developing was a very good looking young male, if he must say so. While Paul looked like his mother, her features suited well to his son. He was a looker with a gentle and loving heart. Jake knew women, knew them well - especially older women, how some were attracted to that type of young male, he would know, because he played and pretended to be like Paul often enough. Shy, bashful, virginal, insecure. Jake laughed out loud at himself, "Ahhh, the good ol'days." That aside, his had all been an act to score, and score he did. So now, here was his son, not an act, a genuine article, left on his own, practically unattended, in the constant company of a single mother, who was quite easy on the eyes.
"Fuckin' hell - I hope the hell you used a condom! What am I saying, he's smart, this is my Paul after all. But - he's young, and first times, shit! I don't know..." He remembered his first times, he'd come so quick and had been ready to go again so fast that a condom was the last thing on his mind. Getting back into that wonderful, incredible, precious part of a woman had been all he'd wanted to do. Back in those days, a warm breeze hitting his cock just right, gave him a hard-on. Staring at a girls boobs for longer than a minute, gave him a hard-on. Catching one sitting with her legs open, gave him a hard-on. Too short shorts, or daisy dukes, with that bit of fleshy ass hanging out, gave him a hard-on. He caught one licking her lips, he got a hard-on. As a young male having experienced what it felt like to lay down and then, sink his length deep into the warm, moist welcoming nest of a girl or woman sent him into another orbit, another place, a wonderful place, that seemed to ease and sooth all the demons in him. It was the one place, that was free of all the things that haunted him.
There, in that place, he was free from his father, at the same time that he mocked him, because he was in there. There, he was as good as Shawn, and believed, maybe even better, because the women, the girls, called out his name, and no other. While in that place, he could escape all in his life that made him feel he wasn't good enough; because when the gir
ls, gasped in shock, and the women, wailed and whimpered and shook their heads in gripping surprise and pleasure - saying all the things he liked to hear - he was not a failure. He was a man; one that gave them what few others could. It was his fix, his balm, his equalizer that bolstered his starving sense of being and ego enough to get him through whatever he might face, until - the next fix. And the first time he'd gotten hold of a girl that was on the heavy side, all sensations were upped by ten degrees. Not only did it feel better to him, to have so much woman to ride in soft, glorious comfort, but they seemed to pour more into him, than the others. The others sometimes treated him as if they were doing him a favor, giving into him, but the larger women - they were different. Some, were so love and attention starved that they enjoyed him that much more, they were more vocal, he could even sense the greater thrill coming from them. So he couldn't help but wonder what a larger black woman would be like. Just like that, Zonobe popped right back into his head.
"Shit! Stop that shit man, you're supposed to be coming away from thinking about that!" He grumbled again, "Damn Paul, thinking about you lead me right back to that! I need to get a private moment with my Vivian some how, that'll fix that." He assured himself, but then his mind went into their last times together. He sighed deep in thought; that she loved him, there was no doubt. But being able to handle him, no - that, no matter how she tried, she struggled. He knew she struggled, she wasn't like other women he'd had that couldn't wait to get him in bed, or if they had, to get him again. She was no where near like that. He smiled and shook his head thinking about the second time they'd made love, she'd initiated it, and had blown him away with her young agile and powerful body. She was certainly tone, fit, and if he wasn't the size that he is, she would no doubt try to lay it on him again the way she had that morning. She was snug however, there wasn't a whole lot of give when he pumped deep, he could feel when he'd reached the end of her tunnel, her out cries, flinches and whimpers were not from pleasure, but her trying to bear him, all of him. Even after putting on the ring, which had made things a bit better, she still cried out and tried pushing him back, and a few times had tried to ease back off of him. For him, he'd wanted to go deeper, stay in longer - have a session of sex that would last for hours, holding off coming until he could do everything he could think of to her, that's what he missed. Having an entire afternoon of sex. Staying semi-erect, holding off from coming and just getting into a woman and riding until she came and then pulling out, to keep his heightened sense of arousal. He'd done that with Doris many times, walking around the house naked, hanging heavy and ready at any moment to mount her again - and she'd always opened for him, letting him in, letting him ride her because he simply liked doing it - sometimes four or five times before he finally ended it and came.
He missed that.
He regretted that Doris had taken her life - due to him wishing to leave her. He'd tried pulling out of that relationship a few times, but let her beg him back, plus he'd become accustomed to using her for his needs and returning to her in between his play with others. Of course he'd have to play the game, to sooth her wounded pride, but she always caved for him, because she had loved him, he'd known that all along. He also stayed with her because he'd used her to hurt her husband -and she'd left her family for him, making him feel a degree of obligation to her. Again, not faithful to her, but let her claim them as an item. He'd been resigned, content and willing, to kind of ride that way until Shawn came back home. Once more making him look at himself, at his life and where it had been going, no where - in comparison to his older brother's. Then he'd shown up on the scene with Sylvia. That had been such a smack in the face and punch in the stomach because he knew that once more, Shawn was again the top spot in his father's eyes, and his mother's. It was like an instant switch had been flipped making him react as he had in the past, coming on to Sylvia to make Shawn notice him - as if to force him to see, that he was better because no matter what he had, he could take it from him and use it until he got enough. But Sylvia wouldn't have anything to do with that - she'd stopped him cold in his tracks - and this time, his plan had backfired on him. Instead of feeling better by making Shawn feel like shit, he ended up feeling the loser, the lowlife - because she had looked at him just that way. For the first time, he was facing actually feeling ashamed of himself. All the other times, he'd been able to cloak it, hide from it, use it and pretend that it had been what he needed and his brother deserved it for ignoring him, treating him as insignificant. Everything seemed to be falling apart for him, he no longer wanted Doris, in fact, started feeling ashamed of being in the relationship - especially after having met Vivian.
Sweet - sweet sweet, black velvet. If ever there was a true heavenly black Goddess, she, his Vivian was her descendant, her earthly clone. Suddenly all in his world looked as if he had a chance to finally stand before his family as worthy - as good as Shawn.
Then Doris had killed herself.
Sitting at the present, thinking about it, driving, he did all he could not to dwell on her, what she did to herself, and why she'd done it. Part of him had wanted time to mourn her, but then, there was that other part of him, that impulsive him, that needy him, that could not stay away from Vivian. Even in the face of Doris killing herself. Even that, could not calm his need to reach out for something better for himself - even though, he himself felt unworthy of her. But his mother wanted her, of all the women in the world, no one meant more to Jake than his mother. He would give his mother the world if she asked for it and he could give it to her.
Consequently, all his mother wanted, was for him to stand up finally, be a man, be happy - and go for that gorgeous black velvet. That he could do. He could deliver that, because in truth, he wanted her too, he needed her, the core of his very soul that needed filling, he thought she was the answer to. Therefore, he had to have her. Not just in his bed, but by his side. As his wife. To stand before his parents, his mother, his father - to show, that he could do it, would do it. That he could not only get the most incredible creature he'd ever seen, his mother had ever seen, but he would make her his wife. She extolled all the virtues, morals, intelligence and dignity to make him stand proud. She was practically a virgin. Imperfect yes she was, having gotten involved with the doctor, a married man, but she'd already withdrawn from him, had been done with him by the time Jake came along; who was he to judge her for that mistake? After all, he knew that the doctor had pursued her, as any seeing man with taste would. No matter, that was in the past, she was now his and he had every intention of making sure she remained his, for good. No way in hell would he ever give up Vivian, no way, no matter what. He swore long ago he would probably never marry, because he liked women too much, many women. However, he swore, if he ever did find a woman that could make him, tie the knot, she would have to be one hell of a woman with a great deal going for her.
Vivian topped all on the list and then some.
Only two problems - only two things she lacked and he supposed two out of all else wasn't so bad. He just wished the two things she lacked wasn't her inability to match his sex drive, and her inability to handle the size of him. Of all the women he'd been with, only three that he could remember balked at his size, one of the three being that friend of theirs, Edwina. In truth, he'd been deliberately rough with her, he'd screwed her hard on general principles to teach her a lesson, and that was, the McPherson's were not to be fucked with. While he'd done some nasty things in the past screwing other guy's girlfriends, wives, hell even his brother's, he didn't appreciate a woman pulling that with Shawn and Sylvia. It was one thing for him to screw his brother over, they were family after all, but no one else was going to get away with it. Subsequently, she wanted some McPherson dick and he gave her some - but he hadn't raped her. She'd opened her room to him, inviting him in because she'd come to be done by his brother, and not wishing to leave disappointed, gave the opportunity to him.
"Stupid bitch." He mumbled.
Vivian, his soon to be wife
, was the third woman who could not handle him. She was going to be the mother of his little girls - if he was blessed with girls. It made him feel funny in the pit of his stomach to see her dreading taking him on when it was clear it wasn't easy for her. He could pleasure her, easily - but the one thing he loved second most besides eating her up and making her scream, was slipping her his length and going at it for a while. Long as he was touching her, kissing her, tonguing her, she was in heaven, her young body under his complete control - but the moment he was ready to penetrate she seemed to tense up on him, as if dreading the moment he was in to the hilt. While some men derived pleasure from making it hurt, he did not - with the exception of Edwina. And he especially didn't care for the fact that his future wife, dreaded him. He remembered their last time, when he'd pushed it to make love to her, she'd literally groaned in despair. He realized he was going to have to practice backing off from full length thrusts, saving that for the last one or two strokes to fill her with his seed. He had every intention of getting her pregnant, and yet, if she struggled with him now, what would it be like when she was carrying his babies?
"Hmmm, I wonder if another ring would work?"
His thinking, planning, carried on as he made progress towards reaching their apartment, growing excited with seeing her again. She was a bit on the spoiled side, wanting to get her way all the time, but he could handle that. He smiled, thinking his little girls would be no less. He couldn't help thinking of them, praying for two, he wanted no less than two girls - and once more went into trying to conjure an image of them and what they might look like. Him or Vivian? Or a combo of them both? Creeping in his fantasy was the reality that they could be boys, after all - he had three of them.
That number stopped him. His mind forced him to correct himself, two sons. Ben, so it had turned out, was Shawn's after all. They would be home soon, he couldn't help but wonder how to deal with him now, going forward? How did one go from being the father of someone for so many years and then, just adjust to it being not so? It had especially hurt because while he would never admit it to anyone, Ben had been his favorite. He loved Kevin and Paul, but Ben -there had been something about him that drew him from the gut - there had been a great deal of emotion, pain and remorse wrapped up in accepting his responsibility to him - because he was his brother's son - the brother he had loved, looked up to, wanted so much to be close to - and now, he had his son. If Ben had been his, then once more, looking at him, he was looking at his brother - Ben from the very start, had touched his soul. Whereas with Kevin and Paul, he hadn't been as taken with them, as he had been with Ben when he went to them, responded to their call. The more Jake thought about that, the more he realized that in a way, he'd more than likely, done to them, what his father had done to him. Overlooked him - thus he, kinda overlooked them.
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