The Life of Jacque Part One (complete)

    Ok so, where to begin? Do I start in school where I learned to lock pick and raid the chemistry labs? Don’t act like you’ve never done anything bad in your life. It was school. Everyone does stupid shit when they’re in school. I just happened to sell hazardous chemicals for drug money. Yeah, you’re right, I probably shouldn’t start there. It doesn’t get much better after that so...your call.

    My parents always saw me as something of a burden. I wasn’t the perfect little Christian angel baby they could show off. I didn’t fit in, and I for sure didn’t enjoy their rules. Rather than realize I needed help they thought I was an embarrassment and they hid me. They made excuses, of course. “Oh, Jacque isn’t feeling well.” “Well, you know, we feel like Jacque’s time would be better spent on these projects.” “Jacque couldn’t come today, he’s at a camp for such and such.”

    Yeah, real creative one my folks. Just super. Once I graduated (barely I might add) and was eighteen, I was out the door. They hadn’t needed me for a long time and they sure as hell didn’t hide the fact I was no longer wanted. I took the old truck, the one my uncle left me when he died, but my parents never gave to me. I just up and took it, all mine now. I drove off, looking for whatever work and drugs I could get my hands on. Yeah, not the prettiest life at all. I feel you. I barely liked it, hence the drugs. Oh? Are saying that’s what made it ugly? Get off your fucking high horse.

    I worked all sorts of jobs in the short time between eighteen and twenty. Construction, retail, telemarketing, window washing, garbage man, you name it. Nothing lasted too long though. Like sand through the hourglass so are the days of our lives. Or well, for me it was jobs and money. For the life of me, I could not keep a hold on either of them. So I just kept moving, keeping enough money in my pocket for gas. Oh? And what about my drugs you ask, condescendingly. I have a mouth, don’t I? If you’re gonna keep that look on your face I suggest you go elsewhere for a story. 

    So yeah, trading sex for drugs was the norm for me. It’s the norm for a lot of poor souls. I don’t consider myself one of those, hell, not even sure I believe in souls or not. I didn’t mind really, I enjoyed sex and sex seemed to enjoy me. That was a joke people, don’t all leave at once now. Anyways, sex came easily for me. I hear people bitch and moan about not getting laid and not getting numbers and blah blah blah. What do you think bathrooms and truck stops were invented for, huh? Sex! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone into a bathroom not having sex and left that bathroom having it. That’s another joke folks, calm the fuck down.

    It didn’t matter who I fucked either. Men, women, nonbinary, weirdos, creeps, freaks, addicts, desperate housewives, traveling businessmen, repressed Mormons, it didn’t matter. I’d fuck em all. I’d fuck you too if you’d let me. Why? You interested? Anyways, I’ve humped about as many people as miles as I’ve traveled and that’s barely an exaggeration. Not to brag or anything but I’ve got something called a grower. People see it, and they are either up for the challenge or run away screaming. The screaming and running rarely happens most people willing to have a romp with me aren’t going to balk at a thick monster cock. 

    You want me to stop talking about my dick? Then why are you here? You’ve had plenty of time to realize this isn’t a fairy tale bedtime story. In no way is my story going to give you the fluffy little dreams and cottony sheep you want. Get the fuck out.

    Now, where was I? Oh right, I was in Ontario. I had pretty much given up hopes of finding ‘good’ work. You know? Small jobs and frustrating jobs seemed to be the only ones I could find. I tried working for a temp agency, but they said my vibe didn’t suit and they didn’t want me giving the company a bad name. Rude, right? Well, not long after I turned twenty, I found a job at a grocery store. I’m sure most people will tell you retail is a hell of a job. I’ve worked several retail jobs in my life, and I can say without a doubt it takes a special person to do that job. Customers are insane. Sure, outside in the real world they seem like ordinary sane folk. But something about shopping makes even me, someone whose mental health is far from good, look average. Shopping either makes you an asshole or stupid, sometimes both. 

    I’m telling you this about retail because, in the past, I have not dealt with the stupid or the assholes very well. I’ve worked several retail jobs, remember? I have worked so many because I keep losing my shit. I either say something or do something that is completely out of line. And don’t give me that tired, beaten, recently stapled together, adage that the customer is always right. Like shit they are. But I digress. 

    I was trying my hardest not to let the assholes and the idiots get to me. I needed this crummy little grocery job. No matter how pretty my mouth was, I wasn’t willing to use it to pay the bills. All work no play makes Jacque a dull boy. One afternoon at work while I’m in the produce section, stacking tomatoes or apples or something, I can’t remember what except that we had to stack them in a very particular way that drove me up the fucking wall. Well, I was stacking them and imagining smoking the joint in my back pocket, when this guy walks up beside me. He’s tall and gangly looking, his face is cut up and scared. He’s covered in tattoos, neck, arms, hands, just completely inked. He doesn’t look like the usual customer at this store, which immediately made me interested. 

    “You work here?” He asks me.

    I look up at him, he’s wearing glasses that are tapped in the center. “No. I just like stacking these things. It’s a fucking condition.”

    He smirks. “No need to get smart with me. Just a question.” He gets even closer to me. “How much are these?” He picks one up.

    I point to the sign. “Oh,” I gasp. “So sorry. Can you read?”

    He grabs my chin and squeezes my cheeks. “I can read smart mouths.”

    Well, the next thing I knew we were in the bathroom with his cock in my mouth. I hadn’t fucked at this particular job yet, so it was nice to cross that first off my list. His fingers knotted in my hair as I looked up at him. He takes a puff of my joint and then hands it to me. His cock slips from between my lips as I take a deep drag of it.

    “Good shit,” he smirks. He then rubs his dick on my cheek. “I had a good feeling about you.”

    I blow the smoke out and sigh. “Did you?” I lick his shaft and take him back into my mouth.

    He moves my hair from my forehead, watching me as my head bobs up and down. “Well, I have to admit, I saw you at The Gorgon the other night.”

    I look up at him, urging him with my eyes to go on.

    “You had a thing with a friend of mine and his date,” he grins. “Told me all about you.” He takes another puff of the joint. “I wanted to see for myself of course.”

    I pull back, moaning slightly. “I assume it was all good things?”

    “All good yes.” He smirks at me and chuckles. He makes me stand up, and he kisses me, he’s not the best kisser, but I let him do as he pleased.

    “Aside from a blow job,” he says as he opens my belt and drops my pants. “I have another job for you.”

    “Really?” I say, watching his expression as he sees my cock.

    His eyes get real big, and he grits his teeth as he smiles. “Well, my friends and I are always looking for good, hard workers.” He strokes me, taking my cock into his hand and rubbing me slowly. He isn’t good at handjobs either, so I figure he’s a pillow princess. 

    “I don’t do prostitution,” I tell him.

    He laughs. “Nah man, you don’t gotta fuck unless you want to.” He turns me around and gropes my ass. “We need someone willing to help the cause.”

    I grunt as he prods at my back door. “What kind of cause?”

    “Money,” he chuckles into my ear. “That’s a good cause, wouldn’t you say?” He kisses my neck and shoulder. He licks his fingers and then presses them inside me. I don’t much like bottoming, but I’ve done worse things.

    “What gets the money?” I groan as he moves his fingers inside me.

    “What you want.” His fingers slip out of me and replaces them with his cock.

    I moan out, and he shoved me against the bathroom wall. Outside, someone is pounding on the door and shouting, demanding to be let inside. He drives into me, and for a moment I forget where I am. I took him as a pillow princess, considering how bad he was at somethings. But his hips can move in a very good way so I will not complain about them.

    Remember what I said about customers being stupid or assholes? Well, the customer who had been pounding on the door decided it was alright to pee in the corner and then just leave. So, in order to clean it up, the manager unlocked the bathroom door right in the middle of my little liaison. For a moment, I was worried I was going to be caught and fired. Granted, the dude inside me had offered me another job, it’s still never a good feeling knowing you’re going to get fired. 

    Well, instead of yelling at the people fucking in the stall, my manager slams the door on the employee trying to mop up the pee mess. “Get out of here!” He yells at them. “Go on go!” I hear the mop clatter and someone scurrying away. The door shuts, and my new friends laughs.

    “Someone can’t handle a little afternoon fucking.” He never stopped moving throughout all that. I give him props for it, but at the same time, he did not have the balls for that. I know, I saw them.

    After we were done and snuck out of the bathroom, he takes my phone and puts his number inside. “Message me as soon as you’re off work. I’ll pick you up.”

    I take my phone back and look at the number then back to him. “You still didn’t tell me what it is you want me for?”

    “Better than this grocery store,” he replies and walks away.

    I consider not messaging him. While I finish my shift, I decide just to ignore it, even though my ass was sore as hell. I tell myself I don’t need whatever drama he’s going to drag me in to. I don’t need anything at all except for what I’ve got now. Which was a big fucking lie, let me just say that. I needed a lot, I wanted more. I craved something more than just fucking existing between paychecks. I needed to push boundaries and piss things off. So when I got off work, I called him.

    He takes me back to The Gorgon, a club in downtown that’s in the basement of an old building. I had assumed nothing else happened in the building, but when he took me upstairs, I was pleased to find I was wrong. The owner of The Gorgon was this guy’s boss. Boss to a lot of people in fact. I was introduced to him. He was a big guy, in stature and deal. Tall and hairy with hands made of thick kielbasas. 

    “I need a runner,” he says. “Someone who can carry product for me.” He offers me a cigarette, not what I wanted but I took it.

    “What kind of product?” I look up at him, admiring the ring he was wearing. The band of gold and had an intricate carving resembling a demon I had once seen in a picture book. There was a massive ruby in the center, biggest thing I’d ever seen. I wondered what a guy would have to do to get such a gem.

    “This and that, need to know basis kind of thing,” the boss smiled. “Understand?”

    I grin back at him. “I think I get the gist.” I take a long drag on the cigarette. 

    “You prove yourself to me and show me you’ve got something, you won’t have to worry about a thing.” These words intrigue me for a lot of reasons. One, it felt like something my parents would say. And in my twisted mind that equaled caring even though I know, it wasn’t. Second, I’ve always had to worry about things. ALWAYS. The idea that I could put those on the backburner of my mind felt even more alluring than someone actually caring about me.

    I can’t help but smile at the boss. He reminded me of Jabba the Hut if Jabba knew how to dress himself and not slave girls. Also, it looked like he bathed. I like a guy who knows how to wash himself.

    “Ok,” I grin. “How do I prove myself?”

    He takes a set of car keys from his pocket and lays them on the table. “Take this car, travel up north a bit until you reach the motel with the broken sign. You can’t miss it that sign is a fucking eyesore.” He takes a drag on his cigarette as he studies my expression. “No questions. No cops. No problem. Just take the car and leave it there.”

    I look up at him then down at the keys. I take them, and the boss laughs.

    “Any questions?” He asks me.

    I stand up and smile again. “You said there were none.”

    He points at me with that thick, stubby finger. “I like you. Don’t fuck it up.”

    I’m lead to the car I have to take. It’s nothing fancy, in fact, it looks like the old car my folks used to have. I found myself thinking I wouldn’t mind leaving this car somewhere. I leave, heading north like instructed to the hotel with the broken sign. I know I’m carrying something, I’ve gotta be. Drugs? Guns? I wasn’t sure, and I wasn’t going to go looking. 

    I make a stop at a gas station, getting myself coffee and something junky to eat. I see a girl in there, young and pretty. Her long black hair is tied in a braid, and her friend is fussing about how prissy it looks. She giggles and swats her away. She turns, dark eyes falling on me and I feel strange. I’ve seen my fair share of pretty girls, but something about her makes my guts churn. She smiles and waves.

    I’m rather cruelly back, answering the call of the cashier demanding money for my shit. “Oh, sorry man,” I huff as I dig into my pocket for what cash I have. 

    “I may be open all night, but I don’t have time for this,” he grumbles.

    How come he gets to talk that way but when I do at work I get fired? Oh well, I guess that’s the joy of the night shift. I turn back around, expecting to see that girl, but both she and her friend are no longer there. I feel for a moment I had been staring at a mirage, something not real yet foretelling at the same time. I then laugh it off. It was just two young girls on a road trip, nothing to think about at all.

    I head back onto the road towards my goal. I finally find that fucking motel. They made it sound like an easy little day trip, but really, it took me two days. I had to stop at one point just to rest. I felt pretty good about things, so I figured I could catch a few winks of sleep before I went on. Well, a wink or two in and there’s a tapping at my window. I wake up, seeing the flashing blue lights of a cop.

    I instantly open the window. I have never, in my life, had luck with cops. And now? There was a five hundred percent increase of my bad luck. “Can I help you, officer?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from cracking.

    They shine a flashlight in my face and are really quiet for a moment. “Just move your car, sir,” he says and walks off.

    I about shit myself. That has never happened to me before in my entire life. I take the hint and move the car. I keep moving it until I reach the hotel. I get out of the car, leaving the keys on the seat as instructed. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get back, but I remember the boss saying “no questions.”  As I’m standing there, looking out over the horizon. A car pulls up beside me, and the guy waves me in. No questions, I just get in.

    After that, I was part of The Gorgon. I was kept as a runner for a while, but then they realized how handy I was with narcotics. My history as a shitty little thief caught up to me. Never say high school doesn’t matter kids, well high school doesn’t, but the shit you do in it does. Things always have a way of following you and leading back. Chemistry was my favorite class, for a number of reasons. I was good at it, very good at it. I had turned that skill into a business as a kid now it was an asset. 

    I was no longer a runner, and I became something a little bit more important. I went into manufacturing, which was a huge temptation for me. I got a shit ton more money though, and even though I was moved up north to some bum fucking town, it didn’t matter. The life I lead still gave me the life I craved. I also still didn’t have to sell my pretty mouth, which was nice. I was able to use it for fun rather than work. And believe me, that was quite often.

    Moving up north and going into the manufacturing part opted me a lot of strange bedfellows. People willing to sell themselves for the next high. One evening, during a big sale, I was invited into a dance club by the purchaser. Use, abuse, and dance as he called it.

    Well, use and abuse I could do, dancing was another thing. I was never very good at it. So I went to the bar to order a drink. As I do, a girl slips up beside me and touches my arm. 

    “While you’re at it, do you mind doing me a favor?”

    I look down at her, gazing into a set of beautiful eyes. Her smile is bright as she looks at me. Her hand lingers on my arm, petting me slowly.

    “I don’t give favors,” I say, biting back my own smirk.

    She pouts softly. She looks young, but I’m not discerning. “Why not?”

    “They’ve never once worked out in my favor,” I tell her, tilting my head slightly. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

    Her palms slips from my arm to my chest. “This isn’t a good deed,” she says. “So, you’ll only be rewarded for it.” She winks at me, and I feel myself melting. Her face looks familiar, but I can’t place it. She’s lovely too, which doesn’t help me at all.

    “What’s so bad about it?” I ask her.

    Her palm down my stomach. “I’m a little young to buy drinks,” she says. “I’m eighteen but still.” She shrugs and grins at me. “I just want to have a little fun tonight.” Her palm reaches my crotch, and I groan.

    “Oh!” I smirk a her. “I see what fun you’re trying to have.”

    She giggles and presses her body against mine. “You’re cute, I don’t mind.”

    I dip my head down, meeting her kiss. Her lips are soft, and she tastes like cinnamon gum. I touch her cheek, feeling her soft, supple skin against my palm. I can’t stop kissing her, it feels so good. She continues to palm me, her hand slipping into my pants right there in the open. I already like her so fucking much.

    “Oh fuck!” She jerks back, looking down then looking up at me. “Is that...is that real?”

    I smirk, kissing her cheek and neck. She moans softly, her hand not leaving my pants. “It’s real, baby.”

    She bites her lip. “Does it...can you...oh…” she sighs as I bite her ear and tug her close. 

    “Do you want to find out?” I growl into her ear.

    She looks at me, great big eyes fluttering. She bites her lip and smirks at me. “I dunno if it’ll fit,” she purrs.

    I kiss her neck and chest, tugging down her shirt and licking away body glitter from her perfect breasts. “No harm in a little testing.”

    We go outside to my truck. She giggling and excited, no hint of shame or fear. I like that. She crawls into my truck and tugs up her skirt, showing me she’s not wearing any panties at all.

    “Fuck,” I snarl. I jump on top of her, kissing her and grabbing her. She moans loudly, not ashamed of it either.

    I tap her clit, rolling my finger around it. She whines into my mouth and bites my lip. “Mmm, baby that feels good,” she snarls with a chuckle.

    I slip my fingers inside and bite her neck. “You feel good.”

    She bites back a grin and pushes me back. “As much as I love you playing with my pussy,” she purrs. “I wanna play with you.” She pushes me back against the door and tugs away my pants. Her eyes bulge when she sees the full sight of me. 

    “Where the hell did you get that?” She strokes me, studying me more than trying to please me at this point.

    I chuckle. “Not sure. Neither of my folks have one.”

    She glances up at me and smiles. “Well,” she kisses the head. “I like the looks of it.” She licks from tip to base. “I’ve never had one like this before.” She wraps her lips around me, stroking me with them. She then takes the tip in her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue around.

    I know I won’t last long, so I grab her and pull her up. I kiss her, easing her back down onto the seat. I manage to slip the condom on, I forget how or when I just know it was there. I rub myself against her, and she bites her lip as she watches me.

    “Give it all to me,” she mewls. “Fuck me with your monster cock.”

    I groan, her words almost making me lose my shit. Also, just to warn all your dumb little shirts reading this, heroin is not the drug to take if you like having sex. It’s the drug you take if you hate having it. Why you ask? Because shit won’t last long enough. I want to give this beautiful creature everything and after a few minutes. Poof! That condom is full.

    She doesn’t let me know how disappointed she is, she was really expecting a wild ride. She sits up and smiles.

    “Well, we at least know it fits now.” She starts to dress, but I’m not letting her get away.

    “Lay back down,” I growl at her.

    She looks at me, eyebrow cocked and looking to fight. “Excuse me?”

    I hold up my fingers in a V shape and shove my tongue between them. Her eyes light up, and she ease back down onto the seats. I crawl between her thighs, kissing them and nipping at them. Her fingers tangle in my hair and she giggles.

    “No one’s ever offered me this before,” she tells me.

    “They shitty then,” I rub my thumb over her dewy folds. “No man should let a woman walk away unsatisfied. It’s fucking rude.”

    She bites her lip, watching me as I nuzzle to her folds. I lick, teasing her and making her think I don’t know my shit. 

    “I’ve never met a polite person in my life then because I-” she throws her head back, nearly screaming as my lips suction over her clit. “Holy fucking fuck!” She cries out then laughs. “Oh! Oh! What the fuck?” She falls back onto the seat and cries out, moaning as she cups her hands over her face. Her hips wiggle as I suck on her like a clogged straw. I add my fingers into the equation, pumping inside her as she huffs and puffs.

    Her first orgasm has her shooting off the car seat. She cries out, nearly kicking me in the face as her legs twitch. I don’t let her go though. She struggles, fighting me as her sensitivity is high. I lick her, not going back to sucking until I’m certain. My fingers are dripping with her sweet cum, and I relish in her sweet cries of pleasure and ecstasy. As soon as my lips are on her clit again, she gushes. My truck seat is utterly soaked, and I don’t care. 

    She pants and heaves, forcing me away from her tenderized pussy. I crawl up her, kissing her and whispering soft praises into her ear. She kisses me, sucking my tongue and grinning like a wild man at me. 

    “What the fuck?” She whispers.

    “I’m Jacques,” I tell her. “Friendly neighborhood clit worshipper.”

    She kisses me, and it is sweet and tender. “Mirian.” She grins at me and touches my face. “Clit owner and operator.”

    I chuckle, gazing into her eyes. I feel my gut churning. I’m nervous, and I’ve never been nervous with someone, especially when I’ve fucked them right. “Nice to meet you, Mirian.”

    “Nice to meet you, Jacque,” she kisses the tip of my nose. “Mind if we meet like this again sometimes?”

    “Anytime you want, baby.”