The Life of Jacque Part Three (complete)

    “Jacque where are you?” Mirian snaps from somewhere inside the house. “Jacque!” I hear Bridget fussing. She’s cutting teeth and has been as stubborn and impossible as much as a baby can be.

    I sigh, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke before snubbing out my cigarette. I walk into the house again and see Mirian bouncing Bridget with one arm while the other is hauling the laundry basket. How the hell she manages to do that is beyond me, I can barely hold my car keys and phone at the same time.

    “Please!” Mirian makes an overdramatic face, “Take my child! Please! Give her a good life! I am but a poor laundry woman!”

    I smile, seeing she’s trying to make light of her own stress. I take Bridget into my arms, and she starts to scream. She doesn’t much like being away from her mother. Or, a dark thought claws its way into my head, maybe the baby doesn’t like you!

    Mirian hefts up the laundry basket. “You look weird,” she tells me.

    “I always look weird,” I laugh, trying to comfort Bridget as she wails in my arms.

    Mirian turns and looks back at me, her hair falling off her shoulder. I haven’t been home in a while, working away keeps me gone for a few months at a time. I sometimes feel like, when I get back, neither Mirian or Bridget will remember me. The way her eyes look at me now makes me wonder if she’s trying to piece together a face from memory.

    She sets down the basket and comes over to me. She kisses me softly and brushes my hair from my face. “You look weird with short hair,” she grins at me. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always had it long.”

    I had recently cut my hair for my job, so I was still getting used to it too.

    “You actually look your age,” she teases me as she picks up the basket again. “You always used to look like some feral street cat before.”

    I’ms truck by this. Ages ago, back when I first ran away from home, someone else had called me a feral street cat. God, I hadn’t thought about him in so long.

    “Jacque?” Mirian calls to me again.

    I snap from my thoughts and look up at her. She points to Bridget. “She’s asleep. Go put her to bed.”

    I sigh with relief, looking at Bridget and her chubby cheek smashed against my shoulder. I take her to her crib, laying her down and making sure she doesn’t wake up. As I’m watching her, thinking about where I am have been and where I am now, Mirian comes up behind me. She wraps her arms around me and kisses the nape of my neck.

    “I don’t have to be at work until later,” she purrs suggestively. “It’s been a long time. I miss you in bed with me.”

    I moan softly, feeling her hands pet me. I turn around and look at her, gazing into her face. She's still so youthful and bright, but I can see the age in her eyes. I feel guilt rise up, I feel like I stole her youth from her.

    “I’ll give you something nice,” she whispers into my ear.

    “No,” I murmur. “I’m going to give it to you,” I go with her to the bedroom where I throw her down on the bed. She giggles and stretches, opening up her thighs as I kiss up her legs.

    “I haven’t shaved,” she admits shyly.

    I scoff. “Like I give a wild fuck.” I push her dress up and am painfully pleased to see she’s not wearing any underwear. She’s on full display for me. “Hello, old friend, did you miss me at all?” I kiss up her thigh, gently nibbling as my hand strokes up her belly.

    She coos and stretches. “Mm, fuck, I’ve missed you.” She reaches down and grabs at my hair. She then giggles.

    “What’s so funny?” I kiss her lips, feeling her wetness already starting to seep out.

    “The short hair,” she moans softly. “Not used to it.”

    I nuzzle to her mound and use my tongue to open her up. She moans again and rolls her hips. “Mmm, Jacque,” she sighs.

    I lick her, swirling my tongue around her clit. I know I may not be able to provide much for her, but a decent orgasm is something I can give her. I suck her clit, easing my fingers inside her. I miss the feeling of this pussy, I really do.

    “Fuck,” Mirian gasps in pleasure. “Oh fuck yes.” Her fingers tangle deeper into my hair, and I move my own fingers inside her faster and faster. She squeals and bounces her hips, she shudders, and her thighs clamp around my ears. She sighs and gasps, shivering before she twitches and her legs relax.

    I lick her up, slurping up her sweet nectar before I rise up and gaze down at her. She’s glowing from release, and she has the cutest smile on her lips. She reaches up for me, pulling me down and kissing me hungrily. 

    “That was so fucking good,” she moans. “Give me a second. I’ll ride you like a fucking beast.” She bites my ear and giggles.

    I moan softly as her hand reaches down my pants. 

    “I can’t wait to feel you inside me again,” she moans. “I’ve missed you so much.”

    I close my eyes and sigh. “Mirian,” I whimper.

    She strokes me with her long fingers, and she pants into my ear. “You’re so hard,” she groans. “So fucking big.”

    I sigh and listen to her. “Mirian,” I say again.

    She kisses me and moves to straddle me. “Oh,” she then gasps.

    I look down, seeing my cum smeared all over her fingers and my belly. “Shit,” I huff.

    “No, no, it’s ok.” She wipes her hand on the sheet. “It’s been a while is all.” She lays back beside me, kissing my neck and cheek. “You always did get super excited when you ate me out.” She says this to reassure me, but it does nothing.

    “I’m sorry,” I huff. 

    “Hey, it’s ok, it happens,” she grins at me. “No worries.”

    I lay there and look at her, gazing into her soft eyes. I sigh and kiss her. “I’ll give you that beast fuck after work,” I say.

    “Ok,” she giggles. “My mother is going to be taking Bridget for the day.” She snuggles close to me. “So we’ll have all evening to try again.” She lays her head on my chest, and I sigh. I don’t deserve such an amazing girl like Mirian, not even a little.

    After Mirian goes to work and her mother picks up Bridget, I’m left alone at the house. I wander around and find that I am barely there. Yes, it is the home I share with Mirian, but I don’t find myself anywhere. Everything is Mirian and Bridget. Baby stuff like toys and bottles are scattered about. Mirian’s blankets and clothes are laid about. I know I am not here a lot, but that’s just the problem. I’m not here a lot.

    I go outside to smoke, and I remember what Mirian called me that morning. She said I was like a feral stray cat, and it wasn’t the first time someone had called me that. When I first ran away from home, I met this guy who used to call me that, his name was Tupac. I spent a lot of my youth with him. He provided a roof over my head, drugs, and some good fucking. 

    I make a call to an old friend back home, someone who knew me back then as well as Tupac. 

    “Hello?” He starts. “Who is this?”

    “A ghost,” I start with a chuckle. “Well, at this point I should be anyways.”

    “Jacques? Holy shit, it’s been forever, man. How are you?” He asks.

    “I’m off work, for the time being, spending it with the wife and kid.” The words sound so foreign to me, even as I speak them.

    He whistles. “Shit, that’s way different than what I was expecting you to say. Are you joking or is that real?”

    “Real,” I laugh. “How about you?”

    He laughs. “Eh, got the kid but no wife,” he says. “What makes you call anyway?” He asks me.

    “Just thinking,” I reply as I light a cigarette. “Remembering old times, old faces.” I take a long drag and sigh. “The wife said something today that reminded me of someone. You remember Tupac right?”

    “That guy you slummed with?” He asks. “Yeah. He died a few years ago. Overdose or something, I can’t quite remember.”

    I’m shocked. I mean, I should have guessed such a thing would happen, but I am totally thrown for a loop. He keeps talking, but I’m not listening. I just keep thinking about Tupac. Memories come flooding back, both good and bad.

    “It was nice to hear from you, maybe we can get together one day,” he says.

    “Yeah,” I reply. My hand is shaky as I take the cigarette from my lips. “I’ll have to make a point to call more often. Thanks, man.” I hang up my phone. Ash falls from the cigarette, and I set it in the ashtray. I sigh and wipe the tears from my face. 

    Why am I crying? Why do I even care? Tupac was such a small part of my life, and he wasn’t a good part of it either. The things he made me do, the lengths I would go for him. Still, in some fucked up way he had been sort of a first love to me. 

    I leave the house, walking away towards the river as I go over old memories. I don’t want to rose-tint them at all, I know my whole life is far from sugar-coated. But I think back on Tupac and our time together. I was never a good person, I highly doubt I am now. Tupac allowed me to be wild and let me be the feral cat that I was. He gave into me because he knew I would always do as he told me. Like the stray cat who kept coming back to a house that fed it. That was me and Tupac.

    He took me in, like I said, not long after I ran away from my parents. I was young, stupid, and looking for any sort of fun, especially if it was bad for me. Tupac had a trailer and a free bed, as long as I gave him money he didn’t care much for what I did. 

    He was a tall, built guy. Good looking with dark skin and fiery eyes. He was so good looking, and to a horny little shit like me, it didn’t take much to get me going. I suppose I jerked it to a fantasy about Tupac one too many times back then.

    As I stand on the banks of the river, I remember the first time we met. We were introduced by a mutual acquaintance. 

    “This kid needs a room,” he says. “Didn’t you just say you had a spare bedroom?”

    I looked over at Tupac, seeing this good looking, brawny guy smoking a cigarette and looking so tired of everything. Part of me wished I could be him, another part of me wanted him.

    “I don’t take in strays,” as he speaks, smoke floods out of his mouth.

    “Aww come on man,” the friend says. “Kid just needs a place for a little while. He’s a hard worker if that’s what you need,” his laugh was all too suggestive for my tastes.

“Kind of a squirrely looking thing.” Tupac walked up to me and sat beside me. He smelled like gasoline, smoke, and incense. Back then, I remember finding it intoxicating. 

“Well,” he handed me over his cigarette. “Ok kid, but just for a trial basis.” He smirks at me as I take a drag of the cigarette. “I have every reason to throw you back out onto the streets.”

I nodded at him. “I’m used to that.”

I moved in with him, taking up the small spare bedroom he gave me. As long as I kept his space clean and didn’t bother him, things were ok. I worked several odd jobs and made sure to pay him on time. He never complained, but sometimes he would just stare at me. And like I said, it took nothing to get my engine running back then.

On evening, after coming home from a long day of doing god knows what. I honestly can’t remember, so I was probably a little fucked up. I went inside and collapsed on a bed. It took me far to fucking long to realize it wasn’t my bed I was in. I had come in and simply crashed on the first soft surface I could find. It ends up, I found Tupac’s bed.

I was so out of it that I didn’t care. I just stayed in his bed until I came a bit coherent. That’s when I noticed it. His intoxicating aroma. The scent of smoke and gasoline with a touch of incense. It was all concentrated in his pillowcase and sheets. I nuzzle to his pillow, inhaling deeply. I reach down, tugging away my pants and freeing my cock. Of course, I didn’t wear underwear back then. I had better things to spend money on than boxers. 

I rub my cock to his sheets and groan into his pillow. I arch my hips into the air and stroke myself, keeping my face firmly planted in Tupac’s pillow. I whimper and moan as precum soaks my fingers. 

I then hear clapping behind me, and I sit up. I turn and see Tupac standing in the doorway, smug smirk on his face.

“Quite the show, stray cat,” he walks into the room and crawls onto the edge of the bed. “Are you going to finish for me?”

I feel a little scared and guilty, but I’ve never been so aroused before. Tupac comes to me and spreads my thighs open, he leans down and laughs. “Holy shit, look at this!” He strokes me, and I wail in surprise. “Nice fat cock you’ve got here.” He licks me, and I swear I nearly came then and there. He took me into his mouth, sucking on me hungrily. I whimper and mewled as I watched him. His fiery eyes flick up to me, and he rises. He puts his hand around my throat and shoves me down onto the bed.

“Do you want this?” He growls. “Because I’ve been wanting to fuck you for a while now, stary.” He unzips his pants and pulls me back up. He shoves me down, rubbing my cheek to his cock. 

“I want it,” I hang my mouth open and lick is long shaft. “Of fuck, I want it!” I took to him hungrily. Sucking him and taking him into my throat.

He moans and leans his head back. “Fuck, you’re good!” He starts to thrust his hips, fucking my face. I grunt and moan, feeling my own need fly through the roof.

When he pulls back, I look up at him. I kiss his stomach and chest, I bite his neck, and he growls. His fingers tangle in my hair, and he yanks me back. “Did you like that?” He kisses me roughly. “Did you like tasting my cock?”

I lick my lips. “Yes.” I pant. “I loved it.”

He kisses me again, pushing me down onto the bed. He rubs his cock against mine and snarls. His fingers slip down, teasing my asshole. “Tight,” he growls. He reaches to his bedside table, fumbling with the drawer before pulling out a bottle. He smears lube all over his fingers and shoves them into my pucker.

I cry out and twitch, it hurts at first, but the more he moves, the better it feels. He then takes it cock, stroking it and covering it with lube. He rubs it against me, teasing me. He pushes it the tip then pulls out. He grins, watching my hungry expression melt.

He hooks his finger in my mouth. “Beg for it,” he snarls. “Beg for me.”

I mewl and roll my hips. “Fuck me!” I whine. “Please! Fuck me.”

He chuckles. “You’re going to be too much fun.” He pushes into me, his full length and thickness stretching me.

I gasp and shiver, my cock spurting thick, warm cum all over my stomach and chest.

“Little whore,” Tupac snarls as he starts to thrust inside me. He smears my cum around. “So cute,” he grunts with each thrust. “You came, but you still love it.”

I gasp and shiver, clinging to the sheets for dear life. I watch him and his movements, his strong body as it ripples and flexes as he fucks me. It was a sight I thought I would never grow tired of. The stupid fucking shit that I was thought that maybe Tupac would be the great love of my life.

That night, he fucked me until he was happy. I would think we were done and he’d pull me back to him. Come morning, I had to miss work because I couldn’t walk. He almost fucked the life out of me. But every time he shared his cigarette with me, I felt a little life come back.

“I want you in my bed,” he says. “If you ever need a way to pay for rent, pull your cock out for me.” He grins at me and chuckles. “Deal?”

I lean over and kiss him, tasting his cigarette smoke. “Deal,” I was so happy. I thought that was something good. Back then, I would do anything for affection and closeness. I wanted people to like me so much that I would let them do anything to me. I would let them use me one way or another. I let Tupac make me into his sex toy simply because I thought it was love.

It makes me think about my life now. The person I was and the person I am now. Never in my wildest dreams did I even imagine having a family. I always assumed I was too far gone for all that. I never assumed someone would love me so much as to have a child with me. Yet here I am with Mirian and little Bridget. I don’t deserve them, and for sure they don’t deserve me.

I look at Bridget, and I see all the newness and purity in the world. My hands are far too stained and filthy, I feel like I can’t even touch her without hurting her or ruining that purity. Then there’s Mirian, still so young and vibrant but chained down by me and my baby. I took her youth from her. My god. How can I ever make it up to her? She doesn’t deserve a shit person like me in her life. She doesn’t deserve having the best years of her life stolen by some grubby handed asshole. 

I start to cry, feeling all this guilt well up inside me.

“Oh shit, you’re having a private moment. I should just go.”

I gasp and look up, seeing Mirian in her work uniform standing over me. She grins and comes down to me. “I got off early,” she says. “So I had food and everything and what do I find when I get home?” She kneels down and kisses me. “What’s wrong?”

I hold her in my arms and remain silent for a long time. “I was just thinking about how I’m not worthy of this.”

Mirian kisses my cheek. “You’ve earned it, don’t worry.” She looks at me and smiles, wiping away my tears. “I’ve had a hard day,” she huffs. “Customer threw their food at me and ugh-” she flops back into the grass. “I just felt better knowing you were at home.”

I look down at her and sigh. “Sorry.”

“I’m just glad I found you.” She unbuttons her shirt and lets it hang open. “It feels nice down here.”

I dip down, kissing her chest and belly. She giggles. “Not here,” she whispers excitedly.

I smirk and tug down her pants. “Yes here.”

She squeals like a young girl and rises up on her elbows. “Jacques!” She brushes my hair from my face as I smash my face between her legs. “I probably stink!” She laughs hard.

I tug on her panties with my teeth. “I don’t care.”

“You should!” She lifts her hips, letting me take them off. She then moans as I lick at her. She sighs and opens her legs more, kicking away her pants as I press my tongue into her molten core.

“Just get me wet,” she pants. “I don’t wanna waste it.”

I chuckle, sucking on her clit and making her eyes roll back into her head. I press my fingers inside her, crooking them, so they hit her sweet spot. Her inner walls squeeze tight around me, and she whimpers. She rolls her hips, meeting my touch and she cries out.

With my free hand, I reach up and shove my fingers under her bra. I grope and squeeze her breast, teasing her nipples as he breath begins to shudder.

“Jacques,” she gulps down a breath. “Jah-jah-jah-” she then grunts loudly. She bites her bottom lip as she cream gushes onto my fingers. I lap her up, kissing up her chest and I crawl on top of her. I waste no time, I shove away my pants and thrust inside her.

Mirian screams out, and she claws at my back. I thrust deep and hard, fucking her like I know she needs. Her legs loop around me and she bites my neck. I moan out loud, pushing myself to go faster.

I look into her eyes, seeing her wild expression. She looks like when we first met. So wild and beautiful and hungry. I kiss her, knowing I love her so much even though I don’t deserve to feel this way. She kisses me back, sucking my tongue and biting it.

“Jacques,” she clutches my face between her palms. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

I growl low. “Never,” I snarl.

She kisses me and her lips part. She wails loudly, craning her neck back as far as it will go as he chest presses to mine. I surge, feeling her inner walls squeeze me tight. I let out a roar as I flood her, my cum stuffing her full. Thank god she’s got birth control.

I come to, feeling her fingers running through my hair. In her chest, I hear the rumble of her humming. I sit up and look down at her, giving her a soft kiss. “Fuck, what was that?” I roll onto my back in the grass.

“Fucking A-plus work,” Mirian laughs. “Shit,” she cups her face in her hands. “My legs are still shaking. You damn animal!”

I laugh and kiss her shoulder and arm. “Glad I can at least do that for you.”

“You do a lot. You’re just too stupid to know it,” she teases. “Mm, I’m hungry.” She raises her arms into the air. “Carry me.”

I scoff. “Carry you?”

“I want to eat, and you’ve fucked my legs numb! Take responsibility!” She pouts.

I smile and lift her up, carrying her half-naked back to the house. Take responsibility is what she said. I know that, when it came to the final straw, I stood up and did what was right. I took responsibility for what I did to Mirian. I went to school, I got my shit together so I could provide for her and Bridget. Lord knows, when I was young and stupid, I never would have done that. I would have run away like the stray cat, my tail tucked between my legs. 

I’m not the horrible person I was, even if that person is still there. I know, at least for now, I’m much better and am deserving some of what Mirian and Bridget have given me.

As Mirian eats, I watch her. I can’t believe she loves me, better yet that she still tolerates me. I reach over, kissing her even though her mouth is full of food. She chuckles and coughs, trying not to spit out her food.

“What are you doing?” She laughs.

“Loving you,” I reply. “Is that ok?”

She grins at me and kisses me. “More than ok.”