(JAKE PRIDE SERIES)
Jay Zay Zay
Copyright ©2015 Jay Zay Zay
All rights reserved. No part of this short story may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form without the prior written consent of the author.
This e-book is work of fiction and any similitude or correlation herein to persons living, or dead, or events, situations, sex scenery, places, locations is a result of coincidence.
The characters, their names, nicknames, statements, expressions of views and thoughts are creations of the author’s imagination and used exclusively for purpose of erotica literature and readers’ enjoyment.
Jake and Jasmine drove into his childhood neighbourhood, not very far from London. After few more minutes a huge at least 6-bedroom detached house appeared in front of them. This was where his mother lived.
Jake’s mum was knocked over at the pedestrian crossing by a speeding biker while she was going to the news agent on the other side of the road. They came to see how she was feeling.
“I intervened with the local council after that unfortunate accident in order to put traffic calming measures in place. I appealed to the Department for Transport, which informed me the intended assessment of area would be carried out in due course. There were several factors they needed to consider before making a decision. All I requested were some speed humps to make neighbourhood safer. It’s now been a few months and people still fail to stick to residential road speed limits.” Jake said, pointing to the driver who wizzed past them, breaking the speed limit as they spoke.
‘‘Look at that idiot; that’s what I am talking about,’‘ Jake commented, pulling Jasmine closer to protect her from the reckless driver.
‘‘I feel safe with you, don’t worry,’‘ she assured him, smiling, and they went to knock on the door.
His mother, Catherine, invited them inside and immediately pulled Jake to the side, as she didn’t expect him to bring anyone along, especially a random woman, which she thought Jasmine was.
‘‘I asked you about this in the past, Jake, and you respected my request until this moment. Can you please send this young lady back home?’‘ Catherine asked, not appreciating her attendance.
‘‘She’s not going back anywhere, Mother,’‘ Jake refused.
‘‘At least show some respect for your once-loved wife, Jake,’‘ his mother said.
‘‘She’s different. I like her,’‘ Jake said.
‘‘You liked Eleanor too, and dozens of other women, Jake’‘ Catherine commented, making her son feel down in spirit quickly. His heart began to beat faster due to nervousness he felt.
‘‘You are so wrong in your judgement, Mother. I am your son but you seem to know nothing about me. That’s very sad. ‘’
‘‘You never gave me a chance to get to know you, Jake; you always did everything in isolation,’‘ Catherine explained.
‘‘I am your child; why did you never try to get closer to me? Why did you not bother looking inside my heart? Maybe you could have known by now what I felt deep down,” Jake said.
‘‘I was there for you as well as for Jenny,’‘ Catherine replied.
‘‘No mother, I was alone for a long time, till I met Tommy and Eleanor after.’ I am grateful for all money you gave me when I was young, but I wanted to spend more time with you and Dad. I thought it would change after Dad’s death, that you would give me more attention, care and love. I know you loved me and you still do. The concept of love I pictured in my head was different, unlike yours. The love I felt for you urged me to become who I am today,’‘ Jake concluded.
Catherine, visibly taken aback by this confession, asked, ‘‘Do you regret what you did and how you helped your family?’‘
‘‘No, I am proud of all I did and I wouldn’t want it any other way,’‘ Jake commented. ‘‘Let’s go back to Jasmine; she must be feeling a little abandoned,’‘ he added.
‘‘Jake, I haven’t got the message across to you yet, have I?’‘ she said.
‘‘What message?’‘ Jake asked.
‘‘Take her back,’‘ Catherine answered.
Jake looked at his old mother and realised that the discussion was pointless. He grabbed hold of her hand and said, ‘‘Come with me, Mother.’‘
“What are you doing?’‘ Catherine asked, looking bewildered.
‘‘Something I should have done long, long time ago,’‘ Jake replied, going towards the kitchen, where Jasmine was.
‘‘Is everything OK, Jake?’‘ Jasmine inquired as if she knew they had talked about her when they entered the kitchen door.
‘‘Please have a seat, Jasmine,’‘ Jake proposed while offering a chair at the table to his mother at the same time.
He sat around the edge of the table, having both of them in front of him. They didn’t seem to know what the arrangement was for, but they remained quiet.
Without keeping them in the dark any longer, Jake said, ‘‘Mother, I’ll let you discover my tormented spirit. Jasmine, I truly loved a woman, but I ruined that feeling.”
‘‘You’re scaring me, Jake,’‘ Jasmine commented.
‘‘Please hear me out. I need to share this with you to relieve myself from the pain and inner suffering that my life is filled with.”
‘‘OK,’‘ she agreed with a slightly horrified look on her face.
“Going down the memory lane, my sleep at night was quite often disturbed by my parents’ lovemaking during my adolescent years. While it was a moment of rapture to them, it was dreadful to me.”
‘‘Jake, for Christ’s sake, what are…’‘ Catherine called out suddenly.
‘‘I need to get this out of my system, Mother. Bear with me, please,’‘ Jake requested and continued, “I wished the ground had swallowed me up to give me protection from all the erotic sounds they made then. The sounds combined with the squeaky bed noises induced inner anger that was persistent for a couple of days. And even though the anger vanished in the end, came back again as they started it all over. It was a vicious cycle.
“I shared a room with my sister Jenny; she was a lot younger than me and always slept like a log. Because of Jenny’s age mother used to give her considerably more attention, of which I was jealous, but I never spoke out.”
‘‘Let me talk, please,’‘ Jake asked his mother, seeing how eager she was to interrupt him.
“During these nights I used to pinch or poke my sister to wake her up, knowing that if she made a noise mother would come to sing lullaby to her. Owing to this their sexual act was over and I could fall asleep. I held this lack of discretion against them, as parents could have taken more notice of us in the room next door.
“This was until my father died from cancer. Sleepless nights came to an end, whilst my interest in sex was blooming, with several productive attempts at the primary school on account.
“During years spent in the USA in pursuit of my dream, sex adventures reached new levels, with interracial threesomes and foursomes taking place regularly. I never regarded this as an addiction, more like a little inclination towards having good fun and varied experiences. When I met my wife, Eleanor, I knew she was the one I had waited so long for. Her beauty and personality swept me off my feet. She was a hard one to get, but eventually I won her over and she was the most precious winning life rewarded me with.
“It wasn’t long before I cheated on her and before I managed to tell her about it, she already knew. It was as if the air we breathed when I came back home that evening changed instantly and she would no longer breathe happiness, but sorrow instead.
“We discussed it and she forgave me. The moment she said, ‘We can get through this Jake. I love you’ was the moment I wanted to die because I hurt such a wonderful woman, someone I loved.
“I didn’t confess I was obsessed with giving pleasure to women. I realised it was my addiction that I couldn’t control. Women didn’t have to be attractive at all to draw my attention. To my surprise many times the lack of interest that I expressed worked wonders on these women, who decided to narrow the distance and get closer to me. Skilful technique in holding conversation and appropriately reading body language did the rest. We ended up in bed, bathroom, on the dining table, the floor, up against the mirror—in all kinds of places.
“During sex I never took shortcuts to derive own satisfaction. I didn’t need that; I wanted to feed my senses with women’s ecstasy, their erotic moans, sensual moves, the state of sexual bliss their bodies were in. When I had an orgasm that was a bonus, but I cared to give it to them in the first place. At these times I was in paradise, heaven, Eden, at the top of the world—God knows where else.
“Feelings of guilt, shame, self-accusation came after. Those only lasted until I was given an opportunity to have it off again. It didn’t matter that I was in the middle of a business call with woman I had never seen before. Her voice and the way she talked were sufficient to have lustful thoughts at the back of my head. I was curious to discover the softness of her kiss, the sleekness of the skin between her thighs and the colour of lingerie she chose to wear on that day.
“I knew I had to do everything in my power to change the way I was and how I felt about women. I had to change for her; she deserved the best a man could give to a woman: love, care, safety, assurance, support, loyalty and children. We planned to have kids, a big family; this aspiration crumbled to dust.
We came to terms about the therapy. I kept attending the sessions faithfully, hoping to become the person Eleanor deserved. A few weeks of ongoing treatment went down the tube. I was unfaithful one more time.
“Mrs. Allison, my therapist, threw this question at me concluding our session one evening, ‘Is this therapy helpful, Mr. Pride? You’re not giving me your full attention. What thought is your mind preoccupied with?’ she asked.
“I was longing to know how she performed in bed and that, of course, was my answer. We had sex in her office a week later. Mrs. Allison and I agreed that we had to terminate the therapy, as her competence was substantially and inexcusably compromised. I didn’t try to find another therapist afterwards. It was clear that I was immune to treatment and therapeutic talking.
“I let Eleanor down. I disappointed myself. I felt guilty and contrite about what had happened. But I found strength to tell my wife, feeling like a total mess—a wreck and ultimate zero, nil, shit. She was in the kitchen preparing supper when I returned from work with that expression on my face and eyes that suggested only one thing: ‘I am so sorry’.
“She didn’t need any words or explanation from me. She knew that a glimmer of hope she had was nonsense, as I wouldn’t remain faithful for too long. I held her close in my arms and I felt her heart want to rip her chest open, her heartbeats in frenzy. She wanted to break the embrace but I resisted her efforts and struggles until she weakened and hugged me tenderly while whispering to me, ‘Nobody will ever love you like I did’ and she cried and cried, cuddling me.
“Her words made my whole world extinct. The empire that I built and fortune I earned meant nothing. I was aware that I had lost her for good and that my life was devastated. I shed a tear while she freed herself of my arms, grabbed a kitchen knife, placed it on my chest and said,
‘If I slashed your chest now, it wouldn’t hurt as much as the pain you caused me.’
“I grabbed her hand while she made a long gash across my chest. It bled heavily. With her teary eyes she looked at me and commented, ‘I could kill you Jake, to ensure you’re mine forever.’
“‘Kill me Eleanor, put that knife deep into my heart,’ I said, realizing that I had lost her.
“‘I am pregnant, Jake,’ she called out and ran outside the house.
“I stood in the kitchen and didn’t know what to say. I felt bad and good at the same time, but in the end euphoria suppressed the misery and I ran outside to find her and say what a fool I was and that I would do all that was necessary to change the way I was. When I finally found her amongst the bystanders on the verge of the road where her car crashed into the tree, I wept like a child and I cursed the day I was born. She died in my arms saying, ‘I know you love me. Tell me this one more time, Jake, and don’t be afraid to love again.’
“I wanted to die many times after her death. Each time I had sex with a woman I wanted to finish my life. I never found courage to slit my wrists and bleed out to death in the corner of the bathroom. I swore to God I would never fall for anybody or make anybody love me. My misery continues and I fear to think I could love again.”
Jake looked up at his mother and Jasmine. They shed quiet tears. Jasmine stood up from the table and went outside. Before she closed the door she said that she would like to be alone.
Jake’s mother approached him and cuddled him. A minute later she said, “Don’t ever despair of my love for you. You will always be my child and I will always love you. It’s unimportant how many or how big your life mistakes were and the ones that you’re making now, including those which are still ahead of you. They don’t matter.
“My heart is filled with affection for both of you, Jake—the heart which is blemished by wrong decisions taken in the past, with conscience not free of flaws either. As a mother I might have overlooked the seclusion that you found yourself within when you were a young boy and perhaps you’re very right about negligence on my part likewise.
“People are just people. It is so easy to say that, thinking that this justifies our faults and omissions because we are human beings and hence prone to weakness, failure and fallibility. I don’t say it to justify anything, Jake. People make mistakes. We are not perfect and will never be. I see that as a gift, not a flaw. Through bad decisions we become wiser, stronger, and more careful. We become better as we learn to avoid deceptive routes again. I made lots of mistakes, Jake, but at least I can admit I wasn’t the best mother for you. Give the past no consideration now, Jake, and don’t let your childhood experience affect your judgement today, misguide you or obscure the real value of life.
“Our lives were not a bed of roses, as you know. Look at what you achieved, look what an exceptional man you are: people admire you, take your advice, respect you and follow you.
I will always be proud of my son, of you, Jake. I can’t stress enough how much my heart is filled with pride and joy because of my children. The success has got nothing to do with what I feel, be sure of that, Jake. It’s the man you are—your heart and beautiful, considerate mind.
“The success didn’t change you in a detrimental way. It made you an outstanding person. I am your mother and I am happy to have you in my life, but now go and fight for what is the real value in every human’s life. You are strong and your willpower has no limit. Jake, you taught me that nothing is impossible! Every weakness can be overcome. Go, go Jake!” Catherine urged him, smiling through the tears, and added, “She is like Eleanor—her face, eyes and freckles—and she is in love with you. Go, find her and don’t be afraid to say what you feel.”
“I don’t want to lose anyone again mother. I am horrified, but at the same time ready to fight for this feeling,” Jake commented.
“Fight for it, go!” Catherine encouraged through tears again.
Jake ran outside the house, but Jasmine wasn’t there. It was dark and he didn’t want her to get lost.
He decided to run along the street and call her to come back. A mixture of thoughts rumbled inside his head. He was vulnerable, his mind preoccupied, and as he rounded the corner he collided frontally with a bike.
There were no bystanders, no witnesses, no Jasmine—only his business card that floated in the air for few seconds and landed the other way round on his chest.
The biker ran off without calling for an ambulance. Jake died and didn’t get a chance to fight for love. He paid the highest price, but his lengthy inner battle with his addiction was over now.
''Please hear me out. I need to share this with you to relieve myself from the pain and inner suffering that my life is filled with.” The final part in Jake Pride series and not necessarily erotic tale as previous serials. If you have read books #1 through to #4, with book #5 - Confession you're slowly drifting to the very interesting and emotional end. At least the author hopes so. Jake brings all to light in front of his mother and Jasmine! Enjoy!