Be My Joey Ramone

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She finds punk rock love.
1.3k words
4.07
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He couldn't have been any more perfect if I had picked him out of central casting. He was the punk rock proto-type I had lusted after all my life. That perfectly messy hair, the tight jeans. The oldest Clash t-shirt know to man, threadbare and worn. The horn-rimmed glasses, the tattoos. It was as if my brain had made him, and put him there behind the bar. All the young punkettes loved him too. It was obvious as I watched them jockey for position around the bar, leaning seductively forward, their glossed lips formed into perfect half smiles.

Before the show started, I waited in the queue behind all the cool chicks so I could get a drink. It was worth all the effort when I was front and center with him. His cool demeanor was no act. He really was cool, to me and everyone else in the room. His eyes shone behind the glasses smudged with fingerprints. When he asked me what I wanted, it was all I could do to not say, "You." Corny, yes. But, in this case, oh so true.

He asked to see my I.D., and I was sure he was trying to flatter me. When he handed me my beer, his wet fingers slipped over my hand as he waited to let go one tick too long. The smile, the touch shocked my body awake, and I would have giggled had it been 1986. I could feel him looking at me as I walked away, and the thought made me warm between my legs.

When the show ended, my friends took off, not interested in seeing the next band. I made my way to the bathroom before the trip home. I wanted to scan the room for him, then stopped myself. I was being silly. As I thought this, I saw him. Standing by the cigarette machine. My dream boy. Seeing him in the light, I realized he couldn't have been more than 22. His height towered above me, and every step I took towards him made me want him more and more. He looked at me, and smiled. I froze. The bathroom was two steps away, and so was he.

He leaned down and picked up the pack of cigarettes. With him staring at me, I felt more awkward than I ever had in those high school days. His lanky body moved into my space, and looked down into my eyes. I couldn't move, I didn't know what to do next. His hand reached out from mine, and he pulled me through a door behind him, into an office.

Before I knew it, I was pressed against the closed door, his towering frame against mine, his hands on either side of my face. His lips tasted like beer, reminding me of my first kiss so many years ago. His hands slid down my body, as his tongue moved further into my mouth, and I lost myself. Pulling him into me harder, I wrapped my fingers around his well-inked arms.

He pulled back, just for a moment and ripped his shirt over his head, tossing it to the desk behind him. Taking my hand again, and led me to the worn, old couch against the wall. He sat down, and without a moment's hesitation, I straddled him. His bare chest was covered in tattoos, and I ran my hands down his smooth muscles as we kissed. His hands yanked at my top, the impatience of youth shining through his cool exterior.

I let him undress me, taking my bra off without looking away from my eyes. His fingers traced over my nipples, teasing flesh and metal. I couldn't look away from his stare, which was almost as erotic as his touch. Finally he broke the gaze, so he could use his mouth, his teeth clicking against the bar through my nipple. His hand continued its tease, and his mouth moved slowly around my taut flesh. I started grinding myself into him, his hard cock rubbing my clit through my jeans.

I reached my hands between us and felt for his belt buckle, as his mouth moved back to mine. I pulled his button-fly's open and felt the heat of his cock through the fabric of his boxers. Finally touching his stiff dick, he gasped into my mouth, and gripped my arms tight as I stroked him. He protested at first when I moved from his lap, but once he saw me kneeling in front of him, his tune changed. I pulled his jeans down to the floor, and put his hard cock in my mouth.

He slouched further down the couch, pushing himself farther into my throat, his Prince Albert tickling the back of my tongue. His hands tangled up my hair, gently pushing me, making me suck harder. I felt him tighten, grow in my mouth.

Suddenly he pulled me up by the shoulders, pushing me back to the desk behind us. Laying me down across the messy top, he pulled off my pants, and dropped to his knees. His face sunk between my legs. His fingers pulled my lips apart, releasing the heat of my cunt. I waited long seconds to feel the contact of his tongue, but when I looked down, he was just staring, penetrating me with his intense gaze. He caught my eye, and smiled. Removing his glasses, he closed his eyes, and I felt the heat of his mouth singe my clit as he sucked hard.

His tongue flicked twice before he released me, the length of his finger now buried deep inside my cunt. I could hear the music from the next group starting. His finger became two, then three and his tongue danced over my clit again and again.

He lifted his face from me, smeared with my wetness. He pulled me from the desk, and turned me around quickly. He pressed my hands down flat onto the papers and junk strewn over the desk, now wet from my cunt. Running his hands up my arms to my tits, he squeezed both nipples hard. I whimpered as he let go, missing his touch. I heard the plastic condom wrapper being torn with teeth, and he spit the errant piece aside. His hand was on my hip, and he teased me with the head of his cock, pressing into my wet pussy, then pulling back when I tried to move him deeper. My heart was pounding as fast as the lousy cover of Blitzkrieg Bop that was coming from the stage.

Finally, his cock nudged further, opening me up, flooding me with heat. He pulled me back hard onto his waiting dick, my breath stuck in my throat as I swallowed a gasp. He was big, or it had been way too long. Or both. His fingers massaged my clit as he fucked me, my hands pushing random papers from the desktop.

His teeth pulled on my earlobe, then my neck, biting into the flesh until I cried out. When he pinched my clit between his fingers, I felt my pussy tighten, and I yelled so loud I was sure the whole bar could here me over the shitty music. I was coming. Coming all over my dream boy's hard cock. He bit gently into my back, as I heard his moans deep in his throat. Thrusting harder, he pushed me all the way down onto the desk, pressing into me. He was so deep it almost hurt, but I liked it. I could feel him twitching, jerking inside me as he came, digging his forehead into my back.

I could hear his heavy breathing, his body lay limply above me. The band just finished as he stood up. He kissed me deep, his mouth tasting like me. I walked out of the office on shaky legs, just in time for the encore.

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1 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
Pretty exciting story...

but if you would insert some hot dialogue at appropriate moments, it would be an even greater turn-on. I like your style.

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