Jacob: Buffalo Rocker, #2

Prologue

1983

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My dearest Son,

Sadly I will not be with you the day you graduate from high school. I won’t be there on your wedding day, or when you have your first child. I hope that you have become the man I had wished for. I know what’s going to end up happening to me, and I don’t want those memories for you. My dreams, thoughts and only prayers throughout my pregnancy were for you to grow into a good man. This guitar belonged to me, maybe you’ll inherit my voice and sing like the angels. Your father always had a way with words too. I’m sure you’ll inherit our musical talent. I know the Robertson’s’ are good people and will raise you properly, and though you won’t be able to understand why right now, it was for the best. I hope your life has been well, and if you look anything like your daddy, you will be a heartbreaker. He had the most amazing green eyes, black hair, and a mind for trouble. Please don’t come looking for me, or him. He doesn’t know about you. I never had a chance to tell him. I know that Jane will be a good mother to you. Donald will be the best father possible. They want children and are unable to have their own. They will love you like you are theirs and better. I love you more than you can ever know. My son, my Jacob.

Your loving mother

Susan

Chapter 1

Jacob

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I have re-read this note hundreds of times since yesterday. When my parents and I sat down to dinner to celebrate my graduating college. I had just earned my first degree in business. They gave me a guitar, and a letter. I already owned a guitar, but this one looked old, much older than the six string acoustic I learned to play on. The fact that they weren’t my real parents hasn’t quite sunk in yet. A knock on my door pulls me from my stare at the yellowed paper in my hands.

Will you be on time for church son, ready for your solo? Jane asks, hesitating at the door. I feel as if she’s a stranger now. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to still call her my mom or not. Her hair has always been blonde and short, trimmed right above her shoulders, and her eyes a dull brown, had always sparkled with happiness. I never thought twice about the fact that I didn’t look like either of them. I can tell she’s sad, but I am too and don’t have time to worry about it. I need to get to work.

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Trinity has called for you a few times, she said you aren’t answering your cell phone. She’ll be there. Maybe the two of you can go down to the lake after service. You probably need someone to talk to. Her weak smile not reaching her hazel eyes I can tell she’s hurt by my reaction. But how would you feel, finding out your whole life had been a lie? It’s not my intentions to hurt her. I don’t know why I can’t just hug her and pretend it’s all okay. It just isn’t. On top of this, they keep trying to push me towards being with Trinity Hopewell. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the unanswered questions either.

Who was she? I ask Jane as she turns to head out the door. Stopping, but not turning around, just whispers to me.

We don’t know. We don’t even know how she knew us. We have your birth certificate, but her name didn’t ring any bells. We tried to find her, but no one was able to locate her. You were left on our porch and we have loved you ever since. Something in her voice tells me she’s lying. She knows. Shutting my door behind her, she leaves me there, alone, feeling like the biggest bag of dirt ever.

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Trinity and I have been forced to be friends, if you would call it that, since I can remember. I know she wants more, but I just don’t see her like that. Our parents are friends, we were just always pushed to spend time together when they did things. For some reason, I’ve always been more happy alone than with crowds. Trinity is just weird, clingy, and pushy and has this goody two shoes act which is totally fake. In school, she’s was completely different person. A few years behind me, but that never stopped her. She’s only about five two, and wears these funny looking loafers all the time. Unlike most girls our age, she dresses very modestly but tries to act sexy. It’s not working for her. Her parents are severely religious and believe in dressing in baggy shirts and not showing off anything. Even when she wears a dress or skirt, it goes to her ankles. She’s constantly trying to touch me hug me, sometimes even kiss me. She doesn’t get the hint that I’m not into her like that and we will never be more than friends. Music is my life. Picking up my mother’s guitar, I follow Jane downstairs, ready to get to work and then church.

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My parents have never asked me for much from me, and I’ve always been a good kid. I’ve never been in trouble, I’ve never been bad, so I’m allowed the freedom to do things I want. Like living at home while I went to college. The rule was I always had to attend church with them and keep my grades up. Our church near downtown Buffalo is old and beautiful, having been built in 1843. When deciding what I want to do with my life, I figured if I couldn’t make it in music, I would do architecture or work on a ranch, since I love being around horses. Horses are so much better than people. They don’t expect anything from you and they appreciate any attention you lavish on them. I have to wonder what church is going to be like. Does anyone else know? Every look, every stare, will hold new meaning to me now. Who else helped keep this secret from me? Are they looking at me trying to figure out why Jane and Donald chose to keep me and not another kid? I would rather be home writing my own songs than sitting in a church full of people I no longer wish to see.

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For growing up in Western New York, everyone always thinks it’s funny that I’m so into country music.  The real stories told in a country song are always so much more relatable to me than any other music I could have ever listened to. Most people don’t realize that just outside of Buffalo there are sprawling country sides, fields, farms, and the type of area I want to live in. I don’t want to be stuck in a city the rest of my life. When I turned sixteen, I got a job on a farm out in Pendleton, cleaning out horse stalls, working in the field, whatever they would let me do to earn some money. The Johnsons have been like an Aunt and Uncle to me all my life. Frank and Melinda Johnson were great to me, and treated me like I was one of them. Which sort of makes it hard that their daughter Melody and I have secretly been dating behind their backs. She’s a year older than me, but never went off to college. She’s still trying to figure out what to do with herself. I wonder if they knew about my parents. Within four months of working for them, I had enough to buy my own truck, instead of borrowing my father’s car. It was a Dodge Ram, fully loaded, about six years old. I got a fantastic deal on it. Donald never had a problem letting me use his truck, but I always felt like I was being a burden. I remember how much he had told me they were proud of me. It’s something I’ll try to hold on to in the years to come.

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Melody Johnson is about four inches shorter then my six two height. She’s tall, thin, and tan with long brown wavy hair. The way it looks, spread out around behind her, laying in the hay makes my dick hard for hours. She’s a country girl through and through. Jeans and tee shirts, dirty hands and she loves being around the horses and outside as much as I do. We hit it off as friends when I started there, but the last six months, we’ve been going behind everyone’s back to see each other. She was afraid her father would fire me if he found out. So instead, when he went in for lunch, we would feed the horses. Which was really just an excuse to get up in the hay loft and screw. Even now as I drive over there, I ache to feel her hot silky legs wrapped around my hips in attempt to help me forget what’s going on. Her bright brown eyes looking at me as she cums all over me. The feel of trembling as I push her over the edge. We lost our virginity together and seem to have learned quickly what to do. There aren’t many nineteen year old virgins around here. But she says I’ve been what she was waiting for. She always wants to try something new, and I love every bit of it. Especially when she gets on her knees in front of me and shoves my cock in her mouth. She looks up at me with those big doe eyes and it does me in every time.

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Pulling up by the barn, I put the truck in park as Melody comes out to greet me. Her short denim shorts and white tank top show off her long tan legs, and I’m grateful for the summer heat. Jumping out, she runs over to me, looking around to make sure no one sees us. She quickly gives me kiss, her soft lips taste like strawberry. Taking her hand, I pull her to the barn. Once inside, I wrap my arms around her, holding her body against me.

Everything okay, Jacob? You don’t seem your usual happy self today.

No it’s not, we need to talk. She follows me to the equipment stall, and as I pull out the wheelbarrow and pitchfork, I tell her all that happened. Trying to busy myself with work as I tell her, everything, all of it, even what I’m thinking. I don’t want her to see the hurt that I know is broadcasting on my face, so I keep my back to her.

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Wow, so I gave you the better graduation gift, huh? She giggles and it makes me feel a little better. I knew I could count on her. Her gift to me was her going panty less yesterday. Which she proudly showed me on our lunch in the hay loft. She wraps her arms around the back of me, holding me tight against her body. She presses her face to my back and I sigh. She always knows how to make me feel better.

Hey, why don’t you skip church today? Stay here with me? Mom and Dad are heading out to the flea market, and we’ll have the place to ourselves.

I wish babe, but it’s not going to happen. I promised the Pastor I would sing. No matter how upset I am with my parents, I can’t let him down like that. Besides, I have a new song to play. I could see the disappointment in her eyes. I wish I could just curl up with her all day. When I’m with her, my world feels right. Everything makes sense and no matter what is happening, she makes me smile.

Okay, well, let’s go up to the loft, and then you can come back after church.

Sounds good. Last time they went to the flea market, they didn’t come home until after dinner, so I’m sure you and I will have plenty of time this afternoon. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I fondle her breast as we walk to the ladder. She giggles again and I feel my dick twitch inside my pants. Climbing up the steps behind her, that round plump ass in my face makes it worse. I’m so hard right now that I’m about to split my jeans wide open. She lays down on her back, and I straddle her, my hard on pressed between us. Her small manicured hand reaches up to undo my zipper, my dick springing up in her face. She smiles and I feel an ache in my heart. I love her, I really do and she knows that, but for some reason, I feel like this will end soon. Especially now, with what I just found out, what if she doesn’t want me anymore? What if I find out my mom was some crack whore? Will she hold that against me? The unknown scares me. I just want to know who I am. Who my parents are.

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For a minute, I sit there, just memorizing her pretty round face. Her small button nose, perfectly straight white teeth, plump, kissable lips and tiny chin. She could be a model, she’s perfect. But every time I tell her that, she says that models are a size two and she’s plus size compared to them. Whatever that means. Melody is smoking hot. Her hair fans out under her head, much like a dark angel. Her tiny waist fits perfectly in my arms. She leans up,