Bad Boys

I’ve always had a high sex drive. During my teens, I was known as a party girl, an easy fuck. Yes, I screwed around, but the partners I chose all had one thing in common. They were bad boys. Tough men who commanded respect.

Growing up in North London, I realized that there’s a kind of hierarchy among men. To a certain type of woman, the toughest men can be extremely attractive, I can’t deny, I was one of those women. It was a massive turn-on to be hanging on the arm of a man of authority, a leader of the pack, while lesser men looked on enviously.

My name’s Jenny. I’m a curvy, light-skinned brunette with large, firm breasts, and I like to think I’m pretty. I’ve always made an effort to look my best for my blokes. From the age of nineteen, I’d been seeing Shabi, a gang enforcer from Lambeth. I was with him for three years on and off, until he had to flee to Spain. Not long afterward I paired off with Moku, a big Nigerian guy who ended up inside on an eight-year stretch. It was all a massive fuck-up. Moku was caught in a van with weapons, drugs, and cash. Afterward, there was a kind of manhunt among his associates to find the snitch, everyone was under suspicion for a while, including me. It wasn’t a good time for anyone. I was there when our outfit brought in the bloke who had grassed up Moku, and it was very unpleasant what happened to him. Even for a tough gangster’s moll like me, it was shocking to see street justice handed out in that manner. It was then that I knew I needed to put some distance between myself and the lifestyle.

Moku’s associates were supposed to have taken care of me but there was nothing they could do when the lease on his apartment expired. Knowing I was soon to be made homeless, I began actively looking for another bloke to take care of me, perhaps a bloke who wouldn’t end up in prison or exiled in Malaga. That bloke was Ben.

I was 26 when I got together with Ben. He was different from the men I normally fancied, but I needed to make changes fast. With Ben, my life certainly changed, but not quite in the way I expected.

Ben wasn’t my first choice, it must be said. He was an average-looking white guy with a car workshop. Moku’s crew passed stolen vehicles to him, and Ben would change the serial numbers and plates before delivering them back for resale. I’d often driven Ben back to his work after he delivered a car, and we became quite close after Moku’s incarceration.

Ben had been pestering me to go for a drink for ages, and after hearing the news about the apartment lease I took him up on his offer. I didn’t really fancy Ben, not much anyway, but the hard men I lusted after already had their choice of women. Ben did command a certain amount of respect I suppose. I knew that he had a decent amount of cash stashed away, enough to set himself up for a few years.

We’d met in a quaint pub by the canal, and over drinks, we agreed that the criminal lifestyle held no long-term prospects. Ben wanted to go fully legit, and so did I. I’d never had a real job, and the idea of being a straight, well-kept woman did hold some appeal.

“Jen, I want to make a clean break,” Ben said, “Maybe you do too, move away, put some distance between us and the scene. I just want to be able to relax in the evenings and sleep easy at night.”

“God, wouldn’t that be a blessing.”

“Listen, there’s no need to commit to anything. But come live with me. Give it a try. It makes sense. You’ll have your own room and your own life, and a man who thinks the world of you. Jen, you won’t regret it I promise.”

As I considered Ben’s offer, I thought again of my apartment lease. Then I thought about what had happened to Col, the bloke who had been ******* as a snitch. I had to make a quick decision. Ben had a plan for the future, he had a semi-legitimate business and a house in leafy St Margaret’s. He had cash and he fancied me. It wouldn’t be exciting, but it would be comfortable and safe.

Besides, I reasoned, if I was discreet I might be able to get a bit of pole on the side. Although Ben had a job and a future, he wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the box. The fact that Ben was a little gullible also swayed my decision, I suppose.

“You’re so sweet Ben, let’s give it a go,” I said and kissed him on the lips. Ben beamed broadly, he looked like the happiest man in the world.

So I moved in with Ben and tried to make it work. I left my friends on the other side of London and settled into a new life in St Margaret’s. To be fair Ben doted over me. He gave me a very decent allowance and I had my own bedroom. He called me his “princess” and was very attentive. He did his best between the sheets. Ben was a good man, it wasn’t his fault that his best wasn’t good enough.

After three months I was getting itchy feet. I missed the smoking, the partying, and not least being power-fucked by hard men with big cocks. Ben’s lovemaking wasn’t like that at all. He insisted on tongue-kissing for ages, longer than the sex lasted actually. I found it a little gross. I began to find Ben’s habits irritating too, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that he didn’t have great social skills.

I knew for sure that Ben was the wrong bloke for me when, one night after a few drinks, he confessed his insecurities. He “opened his heart” to me as he put it. He told me about his tax issues and then moved on to his occasional depression, how he suffered from low self-esteem and how he had always been scared around women.

“I admit Jen, I was never really the criminal kind,” Ben told me, “I got caught up in it and well, the money but between you and me, I was terrified most of the time, hanging out with those guys. Really, I’m not a fighter, never have been. I’d sooner run away.”

I looked at him aghast. Ben was actually admitting to being a coward, I thought. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I tried to sound sympathetic but at that point, Ben lost all sexual attraction to me. His macho demeanor was just a front. I felt like he had courted me under false pretenses.

Well, that night I decided to have a few drinks and let my hair down. I met up with my girlfriend Portia in the West End. Back in the day, Portia had hung out with the same bad crowd as me, but she’d developed a drug habit and moved back with her parents. Like me, she’d gotten straight, even to the extent of getting married. Her new husband had helped her get off the coke. I thought she was now in a good place.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Over drinks, Portia confided in me that her marriage was on the rocks. She’d started seeing a black guy by the name of Aaron, a gang guy, who she was so besotted with that she was contemplating leaving her husband.

“Really Jen, Will’s such a wanker,” Portia told me after her second cocktail arrived. “He objects whenever I go out. It’s like he wants me to be a fucking hermit or something. I made a big mistake marrying him. I’d leave him in an instant if it wasn’t for his cash.”

“Girl, he sounds just like my Ben" I said. "Boring Ben. He must have shagged me six or seven times in all the time we’ve been together, no more. He isn’t man enough. Most times we sleep in separate rooms.”

“I’m the same with Will" Portia said, helping herself to nuts. "I told him it was because of his snoring, but really, it's because I find him vile."

“Girl! I’ve used the same excuse!” I laughed.

”What did we do to deserve them?” Portia said. “Boring Ben and Wimpy Will.”

“It’s all right for you, at least you’re getting pronged" I said. "I’m stuck with Boring Ben every fucking night.”

“Sounds like you need yourself a decent length girl."

“Maybe I do,” I giggled.

I admit it. Three months of Ben’s small dick had left me one frustrated bitch. What I needed was a good shafting from a hard man who didn’t try to be sensitive and discuss his fucking feelings with me all the time.

“Aaron has some lush mates,” said Portia. “Hang on a sec…”

Before I could stop her, Portia had taken out her phone and sent a text. A couple of minutes later, she received a reply.

“Oooh,” she said, “You might be in luck, Jen. Meet Malik." She handed her phone to me.

“Mmmmm,” I moaned, “Right up my street."

I wasn’t lying. The contrast with the strong, handsome Malik and Ben couldn’t be more stark. Boring Ben was nothing compared to him, I thought.

“Look, you can even see his cock-bulge. He’s packin.”

“God, he looks good all over, lush as fuck!”

“So, when do you want to meet him?" Portia said.

“How about right now,” I joked.

In the end, I had to wait a week before meeting him. But It’s no exaggeration to say that my life changed after that.

I’d arranged to accompany Portia to an exclusive club in the East End where we’d meet up with Aaron and Malik. It was what you’d call a high-class gangster hangout. Portia had warned me that the club was very exclusive and well-known as a place for women to meet black guys, an expensive place, where the prices reflect discretion.

We met for drinks in a pub beforehand, which was a bad idea due to the amount of guys hitting on us. Portia and I did some MD before making our way to the club and of course, we’d dressed hot. When we arrived, I was surprised at how many women were there. Women dressed sexy as hell, clearly needing a length. But there were plenty of guys too, mostly black, and I was feeling horny at the sight of all those lush brothas. When Aaron and Malik arrived we were both eager to flirt.

Malik was even dishier than his photo, he was tall, heavily muscled, very handsome, and full of attitude. It was obvious that he knew how to handle himself, A hard lad. Cocky and confident with a bit of swagger and so sexy. I saw him turning girls’ heads as he strode to the bar.

Of course, I didn’t resist when Malik took my hand and led me onto the dance floor where he started necking with me. I kind of melted into his arms and simply forgot about Ben. I realized there and then how much I’d missed the touch of an alpha male, and what a thrill such men gave me.

Later, Portia and I were led out onto a private terrace enjoying the views of the London skyline. We both got shafted there. It wasn’t just us, there was a row of six women, all in a line, getting pronged from behind by strong black men. Malik’s cock was literally four times the size of Ben’s, but I was so juiced up I took it easily. Times were changing as fast as the skyline, I thought, as I creamed again and again on Malik’s rigid length.

Afterwards Malik whispered, "You married bitch?"

“No, but I live with a bloke.”

“Little man got a job right?” Malik said, “Maybe I pay you a visit sometime, you like that, Jen?”

I nodded. To be honest, I was thrilled. Malik was so confident and tough. He was nothing like Ben. I know it sounds cruel to say it, but I knew then that I would always rather get fucked by men like Malik than men like Ben.

I gave him my number and spent the next week eager for Malik to make contact but when he did, it kind of came at a bad time.

Ben had told me he had something special planned for us that weekend, it was supposed to be a surprise. Ben’s always been a bit of a romantic, and to be honest I wasn’t really looking forward to whatever he had planned. It turned out he’d booked us a table at Zizi's, a smart restaurant on a boat moored on the Thames.

We were led to a prime spot by the window with a candle on the table. Subdued music was playing. It was all very nice.

I sat opposite Ben, he looked good for a change, he was wearing his best suit, and he was full of praise for the way I looked. I know, I can look a hot bitch when I make the effort, but that evening all I had done was throw on one of my older dresses and heels.

“Jen, we’ve been together a while now,” Ben began after the wine had arrived. “I really love you, you know that?”

Then I noticed that Ben was holding a small box in his hand, A moment later he passed it across the table to me. I looked at the expensive wrapping and felt awkward, I was sure it was a ring.

“Go on, open it”

“Oh Ben,"

“Jen, look me in the eyes,” Ben said. He then cleared his throat and began: “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love is as deep, the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

“What,” I stared at Ben, he had a small stain on his collar. He was getting a bit of a paunch, I thought.

“It’s Shakespeare Jen,” Ben said. He looked a little hurt.

I stared at the box containing the ring. I still hadn’t opened it. “Really Ben, this is such a shock, I need time to consider…”

“That’s fine Jen, take as much time as you need, I’ll always be here for you, and…”

Then my phone buzzed. I glanced at it. I had received a text message.

I put my phone down Immediately. My heart skipped a beat. I really didn’t know how to react.

“Jen, listen to me,” Ben said. "I will devote myself to you. Relationships are hard work, but If we commit to it, I know that we can be happy. It’s the right time, I know it.”

I was at a loss for words. I wanted to turn him down, but it seemed so mean. And I really wanted to reply to Malik’s text.

"The more I give to thee, the more I have," Ben repeated. Then he stared at me like he was waiting for my answer.

“Oh Ben I’m really not sure,” I said. “You’re such a nice bloke, but I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“If you like, we can take a break,” Ben continued, “There’s this little hotel in Brighton that I think you’ll like. It’s supposed to be really romantic”

I glanced at my phone again, and stared at Malik’s picture, I felt wetness forming between my thighs. I honestly began to juice up in Zizi's.

“Darling, are you listening to me? What I’m saying is important.”

“Uh, sorry Ben, it’s Portia, I’ll tell her not to disturb us again.”

I picked up my phone and replied to Malik’s text.







I then put my phone back on the table. Ben was talking about his plans for our proposed vacation.

“It doesn’t need to be Brighton,” he said. “We could take the Eurostar to Paris.”

To be honest I wasn’t interested in what Ben was saying at all. I was thinking how much I needed Malik’s cock. Then I thought about Ben’s small cock. In my mind, I compared it to Malik’s.

"In the future, we don’t need to live in London,” Ben continued, “It could be good for both of us to…”

I cut him short, “Like I said Ben, I need some time, I’m not really sure I want to do any of those things.”

There was a long silence, then I felt my phone vibrate again. I didn’t look at it. I didn’t dare.

Ben was obviously disappointed with my reaction and he seemed a little *****. He continued to speak about his plans to live in the countryside. I think he was talking about moving to Yorkshire or some other godforsaken place. I let him talk until finally, he excused himself to go to the toilet. Immediately, I picked up my phone and felt a sliver of electricity pass through my body while conducting the following brief exchange with Malik.





As I stared at the second picture, I felt a real sense of longing between my thighs. In fact, I almost missed Ben returning from the toilet. Luckily I placed my phone down just in time.

"Who are you texting now?"

“Uh, no-one.”

“It doesn’t look like no one to me,” Ben looked hurt, “Listen, Jen, this is important.”

”Look, Ben, Portia is having real problems in her marriage,” I said, “I’m sorry but she really needs a friend right now. This is a big thing for her.”

“I was hoping my proposal of marriage would be a big thing for us,” Ben said. He looked crestfallen. Like he was about to burst into tears.

Unfortunately, the night deteriorated after that. We started speaking about other, more mundane things, while I thought about how much I wanted to fuck Malik. I guess Ben sensed that I wasn’t really listening to him. When we arrived home Ben was ***** and horny. He tried to kiss me, but I wasn’t in the mood for him and I went to bed, while he stayed up drinking and feeling sorry for himself.

It must have been after 1 a.m. when Ben came to my room and got into my bed. it was awful. He stank of alcohol. He was naked and sporting an erection. He then began trying to kiss me, "Come on Jen, I can give you what you need, I’ll give you the fucking you want” he slurred. I turned away from him but he started rubbing his small prick up against my back and breathing heavily. I wasn’t turned on at all. As he persisted, I slapped him, hard in the face causing him to wince in pain.

"Leave me alone, you're *****," I hissed, Then I kicked him away. ”Fuck off, Ben!”

Ben went back to his room, and when I heard him snoring I turned on my phone. I looked at the picture of Malik’s cock again. I was aching for it. There’s no other way to describe it. It was a real physical ache, I needed it so badly. It was like my body was working on autopilot, telling my hands what to do, telling my hands to text him.





I breathed hard after I’d sent it. Not long afterward, the phone vibrated, Malik had replied.