Bukowski Tattoo

"... and that is how," the bell sounded cutting the teacher off mid-sentence. A scurrying sound and the hustle and bustle of students scraping and throwing their paper, books and pens into ruck sacks and shoulder bags drowned out the rest of the wisdom he had to impart.

"Fucking glad that's over," someone said a little too loud.

"Graves!" the teacher shouted, "here. Now."

Graves, Mike to his friends, shook his head, swung his bag onto his back and went to the front of the class room. The teacher looked at Mike until everyone else had left the room and the door was closed on it's catch.

"Fucking glad what's over?"

"Nothing, sir," he said with a shifty look on his face - the whole time refusing to look the older man in the eye.

"I've had just about enough of your bullshit."

"You can't speak to me like that."

"The fuck I can't. This is my class room, the bell has gone and you're somewhere near being an adult."

"Fuck you."

"What?"

"I said 'FUCK YOU', sir. Just fuck you."

"Don't think you're going anywhere, take a seat."

"Fuck you," Mike paused, "sir."

Mike's teacher, Mr. Wilson, put his hand on Mike's shoulder and pushed him down into the nearest seat. "You have no respect, Graves, no respect what so ever. You're an obnoxious little shit that will never amount to..." Mr Wilson paused, took a giant breath in and with garlic and fish screamed "ANYTHING!" right into Mike's face. Mike gagged at the stench of the breath and recoiled in his imposed seat. "A worthless little maggot who just fucks and drinks and spits his way through life - a waste life at that. You could have it all, son, you could have it all."

Mike hated it when Mr. Wilson called him son. His own father had died several years previously and he had been forced at his mothers insistence and inability to keep her legs closed to move in with Mr. Wilson when she started to fuck him on a regular basis - a lot more regular than she was fucking him whilst Paul, Mike's beloved father, was still alive. Mr. Wilson's fondness for Mike's mothers cunt was, Mike was sure, the only reason that he had not been kicked out of school and definitely the only reason he was allowed in the sixth-form at all.

"Now, do you want a lift home?"

"I'd rather walk."

"Well, take your time, I've got something to give your mother and I don't want you coming home whilst I'm giving it to her."

Mike didn't speak. He just stared at Mr. Wilson and stuck his middle finger up at him. As he stood he made sure to kick the chair over and slam the door on his way out. That mother fucker will pay, Mike thought out loud as he walked down the corridor.

Mike lived a good hour walk from school - it gave him time to, at first, plot Mr. Wilson - George's downfall and then time to calm himself. As he walked he bumped into Frankie, a strange looking girl from the year above him. "S'up, Mikey?"

"Not much... just... fuck.... thinking of ways to get rid of that cunt Wilson."

"He giving you a hard time?"

"No more than usual. What you at?"

"Just going for a smoke - you in?"

"Sure. I can't be doing with going home - Georgie made it clear he wanted time with my mum."

Mike and Frankie walked back the way that Mike had come from, took a turning and headed into the park. Frankie skinned up and took the first drags, passed the joint to Mike and exhaled.

"That's good shit," she said."

Mike took a drag and coughed, "fuck yeah!"

Conversation took many different twists and turns until Frankie said "you wanna see something cool?"

"Sure."

Frankie stood up, brushed the grass from her uniform and lifted he skirt. On the top of her right thigh was a tattoo of Bukowski's face.

"Is that?"

"Yep, the king of poets himself - Charles Bukowski."

"That's amazing."

"Thank you."

Mike caught his eyes starting to wander towards the gusset of Frankie's purple panties.

"You like what you see there?"

"Huh? Oh... um..." Mike began to laugh a shy 'you've been caught out' laugh.

"Wanna see more?"

"OK."

Frankie lifted her skirt the rest of the way up and pulled down her panties to reveal her close shaven pussy. She put a finger in her slit and offered it to Mike to sniff. "You like my scent?"

"You smell like heaven."

Frankie laughed, pulled up her panties and brushed her skirt down. "Maybe later." She rolled another joint and lit up. "So, what you gonna do about Wilson?"

"I don't know - mum seems to really like him. I don't get why - he's a cunt."

"Maybe he has a big dick?"

"Shut up..."

"No, maybe his cock is so huge that your mum can't get enough of it."

"Fuck you."

"I bet she sucks on his big fat hard cock for hours. When I was in his class last year, Maggie got to suck it, she said it was...."

"Last year?"

"Yeah."

"But he was with my mum then."

"Yeah."

"The bastard."

"Maggie didn't care. She sucked that cock till he shot down her throat. Loads of the girls had a go - he was careful though they had to be sixteen or older. I bet he's sticking it to half the girls in your class."

"He better fucking not be."

"I had a go."

"Fucking hell - you know he's with my mum."

"Mike - she.... she was watching."

"Fuck you! Fuck you! That's my mother, she's not like that. I'll kill you if you don't tell me you're lying this instant!"

"Mike... I'm just fucking with you. I never sucked his cock. I let him fuck me with it."

Mike went white. Mike went so pale and then he threw up. He stood up, his legs wobbly from the joint and the vomiting. He started to run, he ran as fast as he could and soon he was home.

Mike burst in through the front door to find George Wilson giving it to his mother good and hard from behind as she bent over the kitchen table. A video camera caught all the action from the kitchen counter. "The fuck?" Mike screamed and lunged at George. He pushed him away from his mother and started to beat him viciously all over the body. He punched his hard cock, he punched his swollen balls, beat his face kicked him until he was against the wall and Mike let seventeen years of rage out. Mike's mother stood up and pulled up her panties and trousers. She ran to Mike and pulled him backwards, a flailing arm caught her in the head and knocked her to the ground. Frankie burst into the room and pulled Mike back from George.

"Fucking what've you done?" Frankie screamed as she slapped Mike in the face. George fell to the floor unconscious or dead. Mike's mum got up and went over to her fallen lover.

"Get the fuck out of here, Michael. Get the fuck out."

Frankie dragged the stunned Mike out the front door. "Let's get you away from here, I'm sorry for winding you up, I'm sorry for the things I said."

"Fucking... caught them... caught him.... them.... fuc...." Mike fell down and passed out. Frankie dragged him back into the house, took a knife and slit his mothers throat to quieten her as she wept over the fallen George. Next, Frankie took the knife to Georges flaccid cock and with one clean slice took it clean off. His body convulsed and his eyes opened as he drew breath to scream Frankie plunged the knife into his heart.

Frankie cuddled into Mike's limp body. "They'll never hurt you again, my love, never again." Frankie wiped the knife handle and put it into Georges hand. She then stood, went to the cooker and turned on the gas. She pulled Mike's still unconscious body from the house and then threw in her lighter.

Mike twitched. Frankie rolled over and looked at him, a blade of grass entered his nostril where he slept on the grass. Mike twitched again. “Hey, sleepy-head, wake up,” Frankie whispered into his ear. Mike slowly opened his eyes.

“Wha... Where....?”

“You threw up and passed out - I guess that joint was a little more potent than I thought.”

“How long? I had the strangest dream.”

“About an hour. How you feeling?”

“OK, I guess. A little woozy... I should be getting home.”

“Do ya wanna see my tattoo again?” Frankie said with a smile and a flirty glint in her eye.

“Sure... I can stay a little longer.”