The Jealous Lover

The Jealous Lover
Literary Erotica
by Lord Malinov

Jackie pulled the needle through, dragging a thin fiber away from the torn seam until it caught, crimping the loose edges of fabric. With a studious gaze, she lifted the dress slightly up and sank the steel talon another increment along the tear. Pulling, cinching and circling again, she added another stitch to close the gap in the bodice, methodically repairing the violent rent.

A pounding struck the apartment door. Jackie smiled quizzically, skewered the fabric to hold the needle, and set the darning onto a low end table. Another volley of knocks hit the door.

“Jackie!” Tom yelled, his angry voice muffled by the wood barrier.

“Just a second, Tom,” Jackie said as she brushed a loose thread from her lap and pushed a stray lock of yellow hair behind her ear. “Give me a chance.” She opened the door.

Tom pushed past Jackie, determined to assert his presence. Surveying the apartment with rapid looks from side to side, as if hoping to catch sight of some scurrying rodent, Tom turned unsatisfied to cast a mean glare at Jackie.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, calmly.

“I’ll say not,” he said, implying something indefinite in his words.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked, stepping toward the kitchen. Tom grabbed Jackie’s arm, halting her.

“You’ve been cheating on me,” he snarled.

“Tom,” said Jackie, pulling herself deftly from his tight grasp.

“It’s true,” he said, his lips twisting in growing fury.

“You’ve been drinking,” she said.

“Damn right.” said Tom, “and they’ve been talking about you.” Jackie’s hands went to her hips. She cocked her head to one side.


“Allen, Jeff, Memphis. Everybody. They told me what you’ve been doing, while I was down in Tulsa.”

“Tom,” Jackie said. “You know those guys are just mean. Why do you let them talk to you that way?”

“I couldn’t stand it,” he said. “Allen said Preston was over here last week.”

“Little Bob? Really? You think I’d let Little Bob in here?” Jackie laughed. Tom turned to look away. Jackie touched him gently on the arm, a finger tracing the bulge of his lean bicep. Tom started to pull away, but then accepted the caress.

“I just can’t stand to think about you being with anyone else.” Tom turned back and stared hard into her eyes. “The guys were laughing and I just couldn’t stand it.”

“Tom, honey,” Jackie cooed, “don’t let them treat you like that. You know they just wanted to set you off. They’re mean that way. Think about it; you wouldn’t lend one of those baboons money. Isn’t your honor worth more than that?” Jackie kissed his rough chin lightly, invitingly.

“I know, I know. It’s just, baby, I can’t . . .” Jackie kissed him. Wanting her, Tom pulled the woman close, lifting her to meet his hungry lips. She let her head fall back as he suckled at her throat.

“I’m yours, all yours,” she whispered and he drew his woman closer, claiming her with passion, his powerful hands pawing at the curves, pulling at her clothes impatiently, wanting badly to have her. In a sudden swoop, Tom lifted Jackie up and carried her into her dark bedroom.

Jackie fell back onto the bed with a bounce and quickly reached behind to unzip her dress. Without pause, Tom took hold of the neckline and yanked the thin cotton down to expose the creamy fruit of her breast. Squeezing a tit in his strong hand, he sucked her nipple hard.

“Ow,” she murmured, running her fingers through his dark hair. Tom reared and pulled her dress down in demanding strokes, impatient to take dominion of the fair woman’s flesh. Jackie twisted and lifted to ease the cloth’s bursts of descent, fiery in her delight to see her man so wildly aroused. Tom quickly made her naked, and threw himself upon her, piercing her wet lips with a flurry of possessive kisses.

“My cunt,” he said, breathlessly. “Mine. You belong to me, all mine.” His prick sliced deep strokes into her quivering sex. Jackie moaned, fixing her soft gaze lovingly into the center of his storm.

“Who’s cunt is this?”

“Yours,” she said, surrendering willingly to the fierce onslaught. “All yours, your cunt, all yours.” The pace of their fuck grew with each uttered word, a savage, angry beat of flesh against flesh.

“Aargh,” he screamed, his black eyes furious. Jackie melted as he shuddered inside her.

The passion collapsed into deep, solemn breaths. Tom turned to kiss Jackie, and then stood to regain his clothes. Jackie turned and smiled quietly.

“Are you going?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’ve got a few things to say to my friend Allen.”

“Well,” she said, picking up her dress, “seems like a waste.” Tom buckled his belt and kissed her again.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.

Jackie watched the big man leave. Carrying her dress into the kitchen, she poured herself a drink. The cool liquid soothed her still bubbling excitement. Jackie held up the garment as she went back to the sofa.

“Damn them,” she said, smiling to herself, another seam torn.”

About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, erotica, fiction, literature, literotica, personal, short stories, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

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

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

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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.