I Am Fucking Trouble

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

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I don’t just look like fucking trouble. I am fucking trouble.

I didn’t start out that way, though. I just stumbled upon it following all the wrong faces into all the wrong places led me right here, standing in the doorway with four angry bastards ready to rip me a new one.

Regardless of what the movies say about bookkeepers, we have a pretty dull existence for a job that pays next to shit. If you’re legit, it’s about crunching the numbers to the point it makes sense at the end of the day. If you’re not, it’s about making the numbers look legitimate to them. Unfortunately, I toe the right side of the law in the name of my modest profession working at this mom-and-pop grocery store down the street from the Danube.

One day I woke up and decided to shed my thick, black-framed glasses and nerdy clothes for the past thirty-five years for a leather jacket and a pair of harness boots left to me by my ex-boyfriend after he was hauled off to jail in the middle of the night never to be heard from again. And with the help of some tight black jeans and some clear contacts, I darted off to the grocery store as if nothing in my world had changed. The second I saw my boss, I panicked. I swore up and down she was going to reprimand me and give me the history of her husband’s ancestry and how they came across owning the store. She mumbled something under her breath and went about her day as usual just the same as I did. I must’ve looked like a biker missing his bike on my short walk home for this random motorcyclist to stop and offer me a ride. Because I was literally a block from home, he asked me to join him for a draft at this bar that catered specifically to “our” kind.

My mind ran in a few directions with this lone phrase, of course, along with his incessant winking. I was quickly set straight of any other notion by the men and women crowding the small place. It smelled of motorcycle gangs with brawls and other dangers lurking around every corner. His goal was to get me laid by some hard face woman while he made nice with her big-breasted friend. It wasn’t uncomfortable as it was strange, with so many hard men stomping about the place with their snarling faces itching for trouble. There was plenty of it to get into, but it was this sweet chocolate brown black man that figured my angle. He was an American, ex-pat, hardened with mass and muscle that didn’t offer a shred of fat to his well-packed bulbous belly. He reeked of leather and tattoos and of trouble in search of a good time, eventually lying to my new friend we knew each other and that he would sure to get me home safely.

He got me home alright, but the ride was far from free, suggesting heavily I work my mouth to invite him up to my apartment for a nightcap. He didn’t look like the kind that was going to take “no” either way, so I took the easiest route available to me, used my own free will. I barely had time to get into the apartment before he forced me against the door and whipped out his dick already hard.

“Skin them knees for me,” The black man growled in my face.

I barely had any space to rest my knees caps if it wasn’t for him spreading his legs as if he was in dire strains for balance to take a much-needed piss. I had no room to move my head it was so in my face. It was reminiscent of a horse’s cock I once saw in the countryside with its chunky unevenness along the prominent length covered by this smoky black foreskin highlighted by this large metal cockring.

I slipped the big throbbing thing over my dry lips. For such a hard man, he was easy to bend. Trembling and groaning every time I made a concerted effort to suck him nicely in offering my real appreciation for the ride on the back of his bike. I listened to him gulp for air when I was doing a great job and listen to him mumble inaudible obscenities when bathed his leathery meatballs with my rough tongue.

He couldn’t really grab my head in any fashion because of the limited space he allowed me. Instead of breaking to get more comfortable, he palmed the door to lunge his hefty hips into my face. He wanted to fuck it like he was drilling oil, pulling all the way out and pushing all the way in. He quickly found out if he did that there was no guarantee he was going to sink it back into my mouth.

My face was covered with my spit from his misses when he stuck with these short jabs into my mouth for awhile. I kept my tongue steady where he could get the best use out of the friction. When he decided to go deeper and stay there, hitting the back of my throat, he leaked a small but steady stream of warm salty precum that made me weak, like sweet snot dripping back there at the end of a bad cold.

“That’s what I like,” he grumbled, sluggishly ramming it in my face, trying his best to hold back from the unique inflammation that comes right before a man is about to blow. “That’s what I like!”

Even though I could’ve gotten him off just like that, he reared back, jerked his head back, and took matters into his own hands. I kept my mouth open wide, making sure my mouth was fully aligned with his dick. I was more than ready as he had a delayed reaction from the edging he did. He moaned and groaned, cried and grunted, shook and crooked before he eventually sprayed a warm glob of creamy goo into my awaiting mouth.

The initial shot so fiery strong in its force out nearly choked me, causing me to shut my trapper so the remaining hard spurts to come got me good up the nose and in my blinded eyes. I was so deeply loss in the delirium I finally came too with my mouth open again to him scraping his piss slit clean with my tongue.

“Clean up your mess.” He growled at me impatiently, like I was the most disgusting thing he had ever seen in his life. I said nothing in response. Overwrought with the sudden fear he was a stranger in my home that got what he wanted and might want something more, like my stuff, my life. I busily polished of the remains of “my” mess off him like my life depended on it, going over areas I hadn’t even been over before, like the crease of his striking thighs and his forest of black pubes to make sure I got every drying drop. I had the whole thing soft in my mouth when he yanked it out calling me his “hungry faggot.”

I thought it was one of those one-time things for me to journal about later. But he showed up after work to offer me my daily feeding, sometimes stopping by in the morning before I headed off to work.

It only took about three weeks of seeing this black man on a daily basis for me to finally learn his name. I stumbled upon it after I stumbled upon him and his pretty little blond trophy wife at a café. Felix, she heaved her titties, saying his name like it was literally taking her breath away. He gave her a few dollars to go away while he ushered me into the alleyway for his third blowjob of the day.

Felix bought himself a new bike soon after and freely gave me the keys to his old one. I couldn’t imagine him doing it purely out of the kindness of his heart but took the wonderful gesture as such no less. He was incredibly patient in teaching me how to ride it through town where on this certain night of the week we would end up at the bar where we met, a night of the week where it was totally absent of its women. I was slow to catch the drift as he brazenly did things he never did before, not even in private. It started off as a playful pat here and there before he had me walking around in my leather jacket, boots, and jockstrap steadily groping a piece of ass he never bothered once to even claim.

The night would always end the same: Him commanding a crowd as I sucked and slobbered like his hungry faggot should getting the better part of his sweet cream in my mouth.

Others tried to take his place. But he was always protective of me, letting the world know I was his and he didn’t give anybody permission to touch me.

Then one night, out of the clear blue, I was sucking him like usual when I heard Felix talking to somebody. I knew better than to stop what I was doing, but it got extremely loud and angry just above my head. I was going to get out of the way at that moment when someone came from behind me, picked me up by the back of my legs, spun me in midair just to pile-drive me into the pool table. I wasn’t knocked out by the impact as much as I was stunned by the abruptness. My eyes must’ve gotten cloudy because when they cleared up, I saw Felix being fought away from me.

“Oh, Big Jimmy is going to love this,” this butterscotch man of Cameroon and German descent, as I would later learn, said in a soothing deep baritone.

I was in too much pain to really be mindful this man talking to me was also holding my ankles and bringing my knees back to my chest. I was too busy looking up at his uncouth face with its warming smile and the long nappy sideburns that went along well with what was on top of his head.

“Don’t be afraid. Big Jimmy got you, baby, and is ready to do you just right, okay.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about, my upper back starting to hurt. Felix was cursing and shouting in the background, and I wasn’t exactly sure why.

“I got you Big Jimmy,” sneered this odd man working his arm feverishly against the crotch of the man between my legs.

I didn’t know he was lubing this Big Jimmy up. It was the furthest thing from my spinning mind. I was only brought back to heaviness of the situation when I was brought to the end of the table. There, I felt a hard slimy dick press its way against my butt cheeks. It didn’t even tease the opening of my hole to get it ready for the invasion. It readily found home plate and went straight for it with the flared head sinking fast into my tight sphincter.

“No,” I quickly found the will to murmur. “No. No. No. No. No.”

It was useless, too late. His dick was like an inferno burrowing inside of my channel, burning me up inside with its vicious recipe of great size and sheer eagerness to get me down on his wiry balls.

“See, what I tell you, baby. Big Jimmy got your sweet ass covered…better covered than that dirty old Felix ever could.” He heaved. I moaned, feeling like I was being ripped apart. He was relentless, rocking my body with his pleasure making me call out his name like I knew it better than a dear old friend with a large crowd gathering around tugging on their dicks.

He became more of an animal once he was fully aware he was putting on a show for them, as he spent most of his time up to then looking of me and my reactions to him. Sweat rained off his hairy body and down onto me and pool table supporting me underneath. My sore bum was incredibly raw bouncing from his waist when I saw him grit his teeth. He lifted me up off the table with each powerful lunge before he let out this grueling roar, impaling me on his dick before violently shuddering and spiking his semen into me.

He shook so long and so hard I had a hard time believing it was ever going to stop. I was right on the receiving end of every single aftershock he had to level into me. I let out a huge sign of relief when he finally did, feeling my tingling rectal cavity stuffed to the brim with his heated juice.

I was pleased with the experience, but afraid I was going to be opened to the crowd. He surprised me and the crowd dearly when he pulled me by the arm up to him and kissed me passionately, not giving a damn I had another man on my breath. He let go, licked and bit his lips.

“Bring that piece of shit back over here.” Big Jimmy called out.

A small band of men strong-armed Felix back over as Big Jimmy pulled his wilting dick out of my slick bum with a sickening pop. My hole was open. The crazy amount of runny white mess bubbling out of my crack was ridiculous. But it was nothing compared to the hard eleven inches that had just made nice with my soft wrinkly intestines.

Felix shook his head in disbelief. His special gift soiled before he got a chance to soil it.

“He’s my bitch now,” Big Jimmy laughed back at him. “Nothing you can do about it.”

Felix snatched me by the arm and took me home. He quietly got me back to my apartment before going off on me. As if what happened was every bit my fault. He said I looked too benign, too much like a freaking bookkeeper at a grocery store with that hair around my face. He shamed me into the bathroom to clean myself out of Big Jimmy. The second I was done, he bent me over the sofa and greeted me with his dick up my ass.

“Owww,” I shook at the rushed entry, heavily still on the crest of my last orgasm with the recent stranger that stretched my sensitive hole. “Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, fucking yes!”

“You like that, huh? You like that?”

“Yes,” I vibrated with his dick feeling just as grand.

Felix grabbed my hips and began pumping angrily. “You like getting fucked? Huh? You like that, huh? You like getting fucked so much that you let that filthy motherfucker touch you huh?”

He knew better than I did I had no real choice in the matter. But if I had to be truthful, I enjoyed every second of it in hindsight.

“No, sir,” blurted from my tongue. “I wanted you to be the first one.”

“You know why boy?”

I shook my head.

“What I’ve been telling you all along boy?”

I shook my head. Not because I didn’t know the answer, but I was afraid of calling out the name of the wrong man.

“What I tell you, boy? You’re my property! You’re my property! You’re my property! You’re my property, you fucking whore!” He grunted and viciously thrusts, cutting his fingernails deep into my shoulders.

It became quite clear I was nothing more than just a warm sleeve for his manhood, constantly screaming at me and slapping my rear that I belonged to him and only him as he tried hard to reclaim something that was never his. I began to hyperventilate at the intensity of his words. Felix might’ve taken it for me being in seventh heaven, but it was something seriously more. I was and I wasn’t. I wasn’t there with Felix in my apartment but everything I had was still back at the bar clutching the green felt on the pool table still getting fucked by Big Jimmy. If Felix could have seen my face then, he would’ve figured as much. That he was just in the throws of another man’s well-used sloppy seconds.

“My boy! My property! My boy! My property!” Felix repeatedly howled.

I clenched my hole tightly. I squealed like I agreed, trying hard to get this sweaty man off. Not the black man in me, but the black man that claimed me as his bitch for the world to see.

I felt Felix pulse inside of me. I listened to him whine his way to a satisfying end smearing his thick spew across my cheeks which left me unsatisfied.

I tried for a full week to get Felix back in my system. I had devoted a lot of time with this man just to go astray. But after another day of riding and riding, after skipping our noticeable routine of heading off to the bar, I left Felix in my bed in search of Big Jimmy.

He knew what I wanted without me opening my mouth. He pulled me to him. He hugged me and kissed me and threw me over his shoulder like his claimed prized back to his place.

I needed Big Jimmy. He wasn’t much to look at but blew my back out every chance he got. This wasn’t to say I gave up on Felix entirely. He just wasn’t really owed an explanation of my whereabouts when I wasn’t with him. He had a dumb blond at home he needed to tend to every once in awhile. And I think Big Jimmy really got off on this too, me sneaking behind on a man he had bad blood with. But he promised me he really liked me for me first and foremost, and that the other was a bonus. He proved this by giving me a key to his place whenever I needed peace from the storm.

I guess I was primed for being played, too, as I went up to his job a few months later to take him out to lunch just to walk up on Big Jimmy laughing at two dudes scrapping over him.

“I’m just fucking them just like you’re fucking him.” Big Jimmy said one night in bed over a cigarette. “I love you just like you love me.”

“What makes you think we got love for each other?” I spat angrily.

He laughed. He put down his cigarette and rolled me onto my stomach and climbed my back. “Because we both can agree that this sex between us is beyond comparison.”

Big Jimmy was an older man. He was fifty-one but could’ve been fifty-nine for all anybody could care with splotches of gray in his black hair.

It wasn’t that I wanted to believe him. I honestly did believe him, knowing he wasn’t going to commit to a monogamous relationship just like Felix. He had been too badly bruised in matters of the heart to get too attached. Though, there was always a slight pain in his eyes every time I went back home. Not knowing if I was going back to an empty apartment or not.

The changes felt kind of slow, but came rather fast in contrast, shedding away that quiet mousy bookkeeper I used to be. I trimmed down my beard to a tamable moustache and goatee with a flattering haircut to match. I got a modest tattoo against the small of my back. Next came the one across my upper back. I was still relatively conservative in getting my entire right leg done, thinking I would have to in something less than pants for anyone to see it. I was too far addicted to the pain and defiance to stop there. I got my chest plate and two arm sleeves tattooed as well.

If juggling two guys weren’t enough, I scored two more notches in my bedpost with my tattoo artist Sam, from the bar, who got so turned on by the way his worked looked on me he couldn’t keep his hands off of me, and Alexandre, with a weird fascination about using these big anal beads on me and plucking them out using the openness of my hole to make himself at home.

I spent most of my adult life clinging on to one man for dear life to having four that I juggle on a rigorous schedule so neither crossed paths to give me what I need for when I needed it. Felix was authoritative. He had a commanding presence that would make others swoon. Arrogant American, I suppose. He looked the part. Unfortunately, all Felix did was look and act that part. Big Jimmy was the part. He just never would be obtainable, someone to call my own. I would forever be a priority with urgent needs he needed to take care of. Sam was great eye candy, ripped with muscles, nice dimples as passionate as his art, but there was very little spark behind the standard flash of lust. He was great eye candy. Alexandre was weird and weird looking too, but in an attractive way. Our connection was that I think we were one in the same in so many ways.

Nothing more than deep reflections in hindsight. At the time, I got really full of myself seeing myself as the ultimate bottom stud with these red-hot pokers wanting desperately for me to submit. I wore one out and was onto the next one giving the last one time to recoup before I came back again.

My downfall came when I sloppily allowed Big Jimmy to come to my place instead of his where Felix saw him off on his way in. That was my goal, of course, letting Felix know he wasn’t the only game in town. And that if he was free to have choices, so was I. I was looking for a firestorm and I got one. I just wasn’t expecting the sort of backdraft I got when Felix got so angry that he spouted off at his wife. She, in turn, came up to the tattoo parlor where I was getting some fill-in work done by Sam to tell me off. I tried sweeping it over. I was doing a really good job when I slipped and said Alexandre’s and Big Jimmy’s name interchangeably.

I thought my world was quickly coming to an end with everybody finding out about the other. I had gone back to growing my hair out and my beard long, trying to slowly reclaim that quiet nerd that worked at the local mom-and-pop grocery store. I was stepping out of my apartment and into the hallway when I was greeted by the four men I spent the last few months fucking all reeking of leather and beer pseudonymous with the bar.

“We’re all men. We can work something out.” Felix sneered, grabbing his dick.

“Yeah. Yeah, indeed,” Big Jimmy smiled widely reaching to play with my nipples through my collared shirt. “Snow White had her seven dwarfs. You just got four loaded guns ready to spray whenever your hole needs them…like right now.”

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Author’s Note: This story was inspired by a man I’ve never met, but whose cluster of pictures came across my computer screen a long time ago. Back in the days of internet old, where only exhibitionist and promising sex workers shared their nudes, there was this guy who enthralled me by just being. Sure, he was handsome, sexy, and exotic, but his allure wasn’t tied to that, being eye candy, I mean. I was curious about the man with the double sleeve tattoos and a face tattooed on each pectoral bound by a heart and a cross in the center. Even so, even though he didn’t look like it, I was sure he might be fucking trouble, lol!