Jacob’s Trouble: Chapter One, Joy-Linda

I wrote this polygamy erotic novel as a dedication to my ex-husband Nino during the plague. I wanted this book to honour him. It’s titled Jacob’s Trouble. The book is completed, if you guys like it I will either publish it or I can publish a chapter each week on my blog…and not make money from it…for the story doesn’t hold anymore…

I’ve broken up with my Lord Husband, this book was truly my token of my love for him, but he never loved me back the way I loved him…

My dear readers, what do you think I should do with this Polygamy Erotic Apocalyptic novel Jacob’s Trouble…

Chapter 1: Joy-Linda

“Tell me everything, from the very beginning. I want to start with you Joy-Linda, because you were the most daring one. You mentioned the weekend which you said was a turning point for you. You vowed to be the whore of a married man? What happened?” The producer asked me. Her name was Deborah. She and her team had flown all the way from the USA to Jocab’s Kingdom, as we now called it. Deborah worked for CCB, the biggest Television Network in the world. The stunning large drawing room had been turned upside down; there was filming equipment everywhere. It had gone from being the most captivating room in the house to being a recording and filming studio. Most of the drawing room furniture, the piano, a few arm chairs and the coffee table had been moved into the second dining hall, which had been closed and basically turned into a storage.

“Remember this is story the world has been waiting for. It’s not an interview, you are simply telling your story, in your own way, in your own time.” Deborah explained again. My husband had given me his blessing to say it all. He was happy for me to be the first, he said I was the one with all the fire and passion. He was happy for me to leave no stone unturned. One of the crewmembers fixed my microphone, clipping it securely under the ruffles of my elegant pink blouse.

Rubbing my hands on my thighs, feeling the soft luxury fabric of my silk grey pencil skirt, unfazed by the number of eyes looking at me with fascination, I cleared my throat and began to tell my story.

I loved Jacob. So what if he had a wife and children. To me he was mine and I was his, completely. He was a mountain of a man, well built and well endowed with everything in the right proportions. His face was almost cute especially when he smiled, but I loved his strong features, the darkness of his black skin, the full lips, the defined cheek bones, the striking eyes and of course his statement mop of shoulder length luscious locks. There was just something about his him, not just his looks, that made me want be his whore if that’s what it took to be with him. Jacob owned me, I always told myself that my body was his property. He was my Master, in every sense.

Side chick, side whore, sidepiece, mistress, painkiller, homewrecker, I didn’t care what women like me where labelled as. When I was with Jacob I felt no shame or guilt. Even though what I was doing didn’t make sense to the world, it made sense to me, and to Jacob of course. Well, it didn’t even matter what anyone thought of me because no one except for my two best-friends and flatmates Christy and Deon knew I Jacob’s Moor’s slut, as he preferred to call me in bed. I was his secret.
 
My flatmates and I rented a decent newly built three-bedroom apartment near Liverpool town centre. It was one of those apartments which would have looked premium had we furnished it to high standard, but we had bought most of the furniture from second-hand shops and Facebook market. There was no style and nothing coordinated which made the apartment look odd. The three of us couldn’t afford to bring the apartment to it’s full potential because we spent almost all our money paying the rent and bills. Until of course Jacob came into my life.

Deon had been forced to give up the en-suite-master bedroom to me because Jacob had demanded he would pay half of the rent of the entire flat if I was given the en-suite master. It was an offer Christy and Deon could not refuse. Jacob had become the man of the house, so much he had his own key to the apartment because my bedroom became his second home.

Before I met Jacob I slept on a fragile single bed, then I brought him to my room and after about three sex sessions on the single bed, it actually broke down. He promised to replace it, but I didn’t know he was going to change everything for me. From a fifty inch curved smart TV, to designer bed side tables and matching lamps and a luxury King size bed that looked like something from a home magazine. Jacob had an eye for the finer things of life.

It was the statement seventy inch purple headboard and the matching velvet curtains hanging from a fitted pelmet which had suddenly turned my humble under furnished room into a royal boudoir, even my flatmates couldn’t conceal their envy. When they entered my bedroom, they felt the power of my man, that he was not ordinary. If he could transform my bedroom from simple to luxury, what else was he going to do to change my life?

When Jacob had furnished my room, he had brought out the glory of the apartment. The armchair alone Jacob bought was more comfortable than the sofas in the lounge we had bought from Facebook market. Jacob had not only spent money making my room luxurious, he had also bought me expensive camera equipment for taking pictures for my social media. My bedroom became the backdrop for my lingerie photo shoots. Not only did my room become the backdrop of all our social media content, my bedroom became the highlight of the entire apartment. So I called it Jacob’s Kingdom.

“So you came up with the name Jacob’s Kingdom?” Deborah asked me.

Well, I lived in Jacob’s Kingdom, until of course I left my flat to go to work or to church, then I would enter this very complicated and boring world which made life for women like me very unbearable.

At work I told my colleagues I was seeing some decent guy, a rare breed who gave me the most thrilling sex, I would tell them, but I could never dare say he was a married man. At church I was known as a waiting lady. Pastor Richard told me over and over that I had a spiritual husband, that that’s why I was still unmarried with no child in the last year of my 20’s. There were quite a lot of us waiting ladies at church, and we were forever being prayed for and delivered from the curse of spinsterhood.

Part of me believed it, that maybe I had some sort of spiritual husband who prevented me from ever getting married, it gave me more reason to cling to Jacob. Jacob’s said to me it was all nonsense and I should stop going to church if the Pastor was telling me I was not married because I needed deliverance. I still went to church, I still asked for prayers from Pastor Richard. Christy and Deon told me I was a hypocrite for going to church, “If you want to sin keep living in sin, if you want to do God do God, but you can’t do both Joy.” Actually it was Christy who suddenly started getting on my case.  Like me, they dated married men too, in-fact they introduced me to the game, but they considered themselves damned unredeemable whores. They wanted me to join them in feeling unredeemable but I could never, something at the back of my mind always told me there was a glimmer of hope in my love life, and Jacob was that hope even though he came in such a complicated package.  
 
Sometimes I felt like my two friends were jealous of me, especially  of my relationship with Jacob, how solid it was. They were becoming more of just flatmates than my actual best friends. My one year stable relationship with Jacob was making me drift apart from them. Their relationships with married men never lasted. Christy had been dumped by the married man she was sleeping with. She had only been seeing him for a couple of weeks. Deon was seeing a married man who lived in London, he only saw her when he came up North for business. I saw my man at least four times a week, sometimes five.

From Monday to Thursday, and sometimes Friday too if I was lucky, each morning at seven am Jacob would come straight from the gym to my place. God knows what he told his wife. She actually believed her husband would shower in the gym before he went to work each day, yet it was in my shower that he washed off his gym sweat every morning after some wild morning sex. Yes I loved him raw in his sweat, he always tasted better before his shower. I would scream. Each time I wished his wife could hear me wherever she was, or even see me, but I got a little satisfaction from knowing that Christie and Deon could hear me, especially that they hardly ever had any frequent sex. Mine was not only frequent, but quality too.

If only his wife knew that it was in my bedroom her husband got dressed for work almost everyday. In fact it was me who tied his dreadlocks in a neat bun and fixed his shirt and tie every morning. I would watch him from my bedroom window drive off from the car park in his black Genesis G70. His car was the only car which had ever used our allocated parking bay. Watching him drive off every morning gave me a sense of achievement. There was something incredibly sexy about the car that he drove. Just his car alone made me want to be with him. Shallow I know, but I was always the kind of girl who judged  a man by the type of car he drove. Christy and Deon definitely did, sometimes they salivated on Jacob’s car with me. We would laugh together about how he kept the key to the apartment under the seat in his car.
 
Contrary to what Christy and Deon said about our lifestyle, I didn’t see myself as a sinner who should be excluded by God. I refused to believe that my situation with Jacob was an abomination in God’s eyes. If it was then most women in the bible were damned. I saw it rather as a solution to my predicament.

I had been waiting all my adult life to meet the right man. I had had my heart broken a few times. Then Jacob came along. I had met him when I booked a photographer for one of my lingerie photo shoots for my social media. His friend Andrew was the photographer, and Jacob had come along. Jacob ended up directing the photo shoot, and the rest became history. In Jacob’s world, only his friend Andrew knew about our relationship. Andrew wife and Jacob’s wife were supposedly best friends too, but Jacob swore to me that Andrew would never tell his wife about me. It was a man’s thing, Jacob had told me, they kept each other’s secrets, even from their wives.

This Sunday Christy was so angry with me. I came back from Church to a Kangaroo court.

“Whist you are at church praying, do you know what Jacob is doing at home with his wife?” Christy followed me to my bedroom, Deon behind her.

“I love him Christy, nothing you will say will make me stop seeking him. So give over!” 
 
“You think this fantasy you are living is love. Whilst he buys his wife a house, he buys you a bed and a chair, and you think you have made it in life.” Christy laughed, making herself comfortable in the armchair Jacob bought, whilst Deon sank herself into my bed, folding her legs.

“Yes I have made it in life. I’m happy with Jacob!” I walked to my dressing table and started removing my earrings. “At least I can keep a married man. You even want his friend, but you are angry that he doesn’t want you.” I muttered, sitting on my stool and glancing at Christy in the mirror reflection.   
 
“He’s with you just for sex, you are his whore, his slut. He even calls you his slut for goodness sake. Have some respect girl.” Deon interrupted. 
 
“And I’m okay with that!” I screamed at both of them. “I’m perfectly happy to be Jacob Moor’s whore. Concubine whatever. Why does it bother you guys that I’m happy? Why does my happiness with Jacob intimidate you?” 
 
“Did you see the pictures his wife uploaded today? Ha.I guess not. Selfies of them kissing, and he’s pushing his children on the swings. Playing happy families. The thing is Jacob is a happily married man. It’s been a year Joy-Linda. He tells you his wife can’t know about you. You are his secret. That’s all you will ever be.” With a smirk on her face, Christy stood up and walked slowly to me. She stood behind me, putting her phone in front of my eyes, almost blinding me with the screen. In a blink, I quickly looked at the picture on the phone screen then continued removing my make-up. 

“Yes it’s hard to look at her pictures isn’t it? His beautiful modest wife. Yes the one who doesn’t dress like a whore taking semi naked pictures of herself in her bedroom. You live a double life, that’s the problem. You can’t do ‘happiness’ with a married man. You are a slay Queen, he’s with you just for sex.”

“And your point is exactly?” I looked up at Christy in the dressing table mirror, she was still standing behind me, holding her phone to me.

“Girl, broaden your horizons and stop getting too attached. It’s time to take the key off his cheating ass, besides  we are not even happy with that arrangement anymore.” Deon interjected, pulling some cushions to her chest. .  

“And you lie to yourself that you are happy to be his slut. Really are you, Joy? Why are you getting emotional then?” Christy asked me. I didn’t want to justify myself or explain to myself to them anymore. I thought of the message Pastor Richard had preached. Know what battles to fight. 

“None of you have ever been with a man who is even worthy to untie Jacob’s shoes. Tomorrow morning my man, yes, my man will leave his wife and come to me. Because I am the one who satisfies him. That’s my job! Leave me to live my life the way I want. Now get out of my room, both of you!” For that moment I felt like a Queen, and I don’t mean a slay Queen. Speechless Christy and Deon looked like the peasants they were. I opened the door for them, and without a word they left.

Alone, I sat on the bed, still wearing my church clothes, a high waist tight beige pencil skirt and a frilled cream blouse. I started to unbutton my blouse, looking at my reflection at the fitted wardrobe full length mirror across the room. I had wiped off most of my make-up when I was arguing with Christy and Deon. My wig was still intact. I removed it and threw it on the bed. My hair was neatly plaited underneath. To my disagreement, Jacob always insisted I ditch the wigs and show off the flat plaits. I stood up unzipping my skirt, then I walked to the wardrobe to stare myself in the mirror. I finished taking off the unbuttoned blouse and threw it on the chair. I pulled my skirt down to my knees then angrily threw it off my legs.

I looked at my reflection and I admired my beauty for a minute. Was this the beauty Jacob saw? Was I really this beautiful? I asked myself. My red bra and matching panty made me look like I was some sculpture outside some waterfront. I turned to admire my full round buttocks, touching them. Jacob always said they were the perfect size. I thought of taking some pictures for my social media, so Jacob could see what he had missed all weekend. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t help it. I felt angry.

I sat on the bed and went on his wife’s social media. Jacob had told me to stop stalking her on social media. I did listen, and it had been a while since I had visited her page. But against my will, Christy and Deon had taken me there, and I had felt such a powerful emotion when Christy had flashed the pictures to my face. Alone I looked at the pictures. I could see the love Jacob had for his wife and children. I knew he loved his family, but these pictures were different. I didn’t come out of my room for the rest of the day.

I had woken up at three in the morning, freezing on top of my bedcovers, still in my underwear, my phone on my pillow. I unlocked it and it was still on Jacob’s wife’s social media. I put on my pyjamas, and told myself that my friends were right. I was never going to allow myself to be Jacob Moor’s slut again. I lay in bed awake, counting every hour waiting for him to turn up.
 
“I see you had a good time with wifey yesterday.” Was the first thing I said to him when he walked into my room four hours later. He sighed as he threw his bag on the floor. 

“Ok, would you rather I just go to work now? It doesn’t look like you want me here.” He walked into the bathroom as he spoke, removing his sweaty grey T-shirt. I jumped out of bed and followed him.  

“What am I supposed to do Jacob?” I went in front of him, blocking him from using the sink. “Even my friends are laughing at me that you are using me for sex, keeping me as your secret whilst you make a life with your wife.” 
 
“Calm down Joy. We went to the park down the road. I didn’t whisk her to Paris. And when did your flatmates become your friends, aren’t you always telling me that they are losers and you are better than them. Just…” 
 
“Just what? Pretend you are not a married man?” I screamed at him as he pushed me aside with his elbow. He took of his joggers and got into the shower. Was I not still in my pyjamas I would have followed him into the shower, my anger took over me I almost slapped the bathroom walls, but I ended up just placing my hands on the walls. 

“You want me to pretend this circus you call a relationship is okay. What am I to you Jacob? Am I your side chick? Am I just your fuck buddy? Am I your second secret wife? You go home everyday to your real wife, play happy families on social media and I’m the secret being hidden like your dirty laundry. Do you know what Jacob. I’m going to send her a message today, with pictures and everything, and tell her about us…then she will leave your cheating ass because you haven’t got the guts to do the right thing!” I threatened him, loud enough for him to hear me through the running shower. I didn’t know if I meant it, all I knew was I just wanted him to feel the confusion, pain and fear I was feeling. 

“Is that what you think? That my wife will leave me and you will have me.” Jacob looked at me over the shower curtain, shaking his head at me, his face and body so wet I could lick him. I ignored his beauty. He paused the shower, and came out. He grabbed a towel off the rail and walked into the bedroom, without looking at me. “Go ahead and tell her Joy, but your little plan will only backfire on you because she’s never going to leave me. My wife  is pregnant. Maybe the pictures she posted yesterday are upsetting you so much because we were celebrating.” 

“I don’t believe you Jacob. I don’t. She has a one year old baby. You told me you and her were done having children.” I sat on the bed in utter shock. I noticed he was already dressing up to leave for work. 
 
“I thought we were. Why would I lie to you that she’s pregnant?” It wasn’t planned. She always wanted four children. We both want a son. She’s convinced it will be a boy so we are happy. You can’t tell her about us, because it won’t make her leave me but you will cause unnecessary anguish on a pregnant woman. Will that make you happy? And I can’t promise I will forgive you for that. So you will lose me as well, is that what you really want?” He shrugged. It’s the way he was speaking, his facial gestures, the way he was undermining me. He walked into the bathroom to pick up his gym clothes. 

I followed him and stood in front of him. He looked annoyed with me, almost angry. “You are not leaving this conversation Jacob! Where does all this leave me? Maybe Christy and Deon are right after all. I don’t want to do this anymore Jacob! I’m tired of you degrading me like I’m a…” 
 
He pushed me to the bathroom wall before I could finish my sentence. I knew what was coming. I had told myself all night that I wasn’t going to do this anymore. 
 
“Don’t touch me Jacob! I don’t want to, I’m not your slut.” My heart was racing, today I was going to stand on my word. As he locked me against the bathroom wall, pushing his body into mine, I tried to push him away. He held both my hands and started kissing me.  I resisted kissing him back.  He paused and kissed me again, this time slowly, I knew he was convinced I would fall for the kiss but l turned my head instead.
 
Jacob never dealt well with this kind of rejection, in his head I was his. My body was his. Maybe it was my fault because I always told him that I was his forever. But I had reached a point where I couldn’t do it anymore, well last night had been the final straw, Christy and Deon had somehow convinced me. The selfies of him and his wife that I had seen on her social media had finally pushed me over the edge. They had looked so happy, a level of happiness I had never experienced with Jacob. Now the pregnancy news explained it all. His wife had captioned the selfies. “Sometimes it’s not that you are unlucky in love, sometimes you just haven’t met the ONE.’ She ended the caption with Hashtags #Truelove #Blacklove. 
 
I had spent all night thinking of her words. Was Jacob the ONE for me? How could he be the one for me and also be the one for her?
 
“So you don’t want to kiss me?” He was still pinning me against the wall, searching my eyes. 
 
“No I don’t want to kiss you Jacob. You have your wife for that! I’m done with this circus. I’m not your slut!”
 
“Yes you are…” He grabbed my arms and crossed them against my stomach, locking them with his right hand. His other hand quickly slid into my pyjama bottoms, then into my underwear. With his right leg he pushed my left leg out. It was my weakest spot and he knew it. He gently stroked its tip, then he started rubbing it. I had missed him. I wanted him and he knew it. 
 
He kissed me again, and to my shame I couldn’t resist. I was so angry with myself as I kissed him back. He let go of the grip he had on my hands, and I locked my arms around his neck as I sucked his tongue. I lifted my leg up as he rubbed me faster. I started to moan. Then he stopped. 
 
“Jacob, don’t…stop” 
 
 He smiled at me, as he knelt down and started taking my pyjamas pants and underwear down.  He lifted my leg and buried his head in between me. I supported myself by clutching his dreadlocks as he sucked me, played with me with his tongue, then dug his finger maybe two deep inside. I could hear myself moaning, I could feel the explosion coming.  
 
Just when I was about to, he stopped and looked at me, “Now what are you?” He asked me. 
 
“I am your slut…” I was almost crying, I just wanted him to continue and give me that pleasure which took me to Jacob’s Kingdom. A kingdom where pleasuring my master was my only calling. 
 
“No say it like you mean it. Who are you Joy-Linda?” Jacob demanded, his voice and eyes serious, his hands digging into my buttocks. 
 
“I am Jacob’s slut. Please take me to your Kingdom…” I cried. I couldn’t believe it myself, it was pathetic. I hadn’t seen it coming. I was standing on my bathroom floor with my legs wide open begging to be the whore of Jacob Moor.

Mary-Tamar was Jean Gasho

4 thoughts on “Jacob’s Trouble: Chapter One, Joy-Linda

  1. Ive never ever read a racy story like this written from an african perspective! It is FANTASTIC! utterly addictive! I want the next chapter……but you need to make money for your children Jean. So have a good long think, because its obvious that this book has taken a long time to write. You deserve to be rewarded. You remind me so much of all the emotions and feelings that i had when i was younger, you explain beautifully the difference between whats morally right and wrong, and how EASY it is to follow your heart. I love your writing Jean. You explain everything in such a self deprecatory and beguiling way, i believe your destiny as a writer is going to be acknowleged soon. I will do anything i can to help you, im not able to do much, but just ask. With all my love to you, and your children. Wally xxxx

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Hi, I just came across your site accidentally while searching for info on Megan Markle’s bloodline. I started reading your story and couldn’t stop. You should definitely publish. Your writing is significantly better than others I’ve perused in this genre – which I would call urban fiction romance – a genre I don’t even like actually btw, but your writing drew me in. You’re obviously talented, intelligent, and do tight work, and all that shines through in this piece. Blessings!

    Liked by 3 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.