Punk Fuck Frenzy

The relentless heat battered the town. The sun’s rays scorched anyone daring enough to roam the streets, lounging in the warmth or kicking a soccer ball around. Mouths grew parched, desperate for a drink, while bodies dripped with thick, heavy sweat.

I trudged along slowly, unmotivated, almost overwhelmed as I neared the park. When I arrived, I couldn’t believe how crowded it was. I longed for the days when you could jog peacefully around or through the park without the annoyance of so many people – now buzzing around like irritating ants, aimless city-dwellers flooding the place with their presence for lack of anything better to do.

I’d come to buy the ring I’d spotted last time – a sleek silver one with a coiled snake design that felt distinctly vintage to me. When I reached the vendor’s stall, I was thrilled to see he still had it. I slipped it on, paid him, and left feeling pretty damn pleased with myself.

After that, I tried to switch directions. The throngs of people wandering around like vacationing tourists were starting to grate on me. I veered off whenever I spotted an opening to escape, letting myself be drawn by faint guitar strums drifting from a distance. As I walked, the sound grew louder and clearer. A sharper crowd had gathered around a punk band – “Rusty Gears” – gearing up to play.

I found a spot under a big tree to shield myself from the sun, which, though starting to dip, still blazed fiercely. I settled down beside the trunk.

The band was killer. They played raw, gritty punk – nothing fancy, just pure street vibes. The crowd was mostly young folks, with a few older ones mixed in – all cool, laid-back people with good energy. Some were coupled up, others gripped beers, and a handful, like me, puffed on joints, the smoke curling lazily from our lips.

Man, that band could shred. A bit later, two girls showed up – both in oversized shades, cropped jeans, and a vibe that screamed confidence. One of them caught my eye instantly. From then on, my gaze bounced between the band and her – that tight yellow crop top showing off her midriff, those dark skinny jeans stopping just above her ankles. Her curves stood out, especially that jaw-dropping backside that seemed to demand attention. As time passed, I could barely peel my eyes off it.

Lighting my second joint, the earthy scent thickened around me. Some people wrinkled their noses and shuffled away, but others – like her – seemed curious. When she glanced my way a second time, I pulled the joint from my mouth and held it out to her with a grin. She hesitated, turning back to the makeshift stage. I followed suit, but moments later, she came over and took it.

Our eyes locked again.

“Any good?” I tossed out, breaking the ice.

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Keep it,” I said. “What’s your name?”

“Jess. You?”

“Tyler.”

“You from around here?”

“Kinda,” she said, pointing vaguely north. “Like ten blocks that way.”

“Same, but more the other direction,” I replied, sparking up another joint.

I couldn’t stop staring. She wasn’t as standoffish as I’d first thought. After a bit of chatting, her friend – who’d been a few feet ahead – didn’t notice Jess had stayed back with me. She scanned the crowd, traded a quick word with Jess, then wandered off again when Jess waved her away.

The sun had set, leaving the sky a deep, dusky blue. Emboldened, I leaned in and went for Jess’s lips. She flinched at first, caught off guard by my move, but then she kissed me back hard. My tongue found hers, and they tangled together, hungry and wet, as our lips pressed eagerly against each other.

We tilted toward one another, propped up on one hand each, the other roaming freely. I’ll admit, it didn’t take long for me to get worked up. My jeans tightened as she brushed my thigh and waist, mirroring my own wandering hands, though I was a little bolder.

Her friend shot us a sideways glance, then looked away when she saw what Jess was up to. She bit her lip – maybe jealous – but had no choice but to turn back to the band and fend off some guy trying his luck with her.

Jess kept kissing me, and by now I was so turned on I risked sliding my hand over her ass, half-expecting her to swat me away. Instead, she let out a low, electric moan right by my ear.

The darkness was my ally. Determined to make the most of it, I jumped up, grabbed her hand, and tugged her toward the back of the stage – a wooded spot with plenty of cover, dark and deserted. We stumbled over, laughing, and ducked behind some porta-potties, shielded by trees. I pressed her against one, yanking my jeans down as she dropped to her knees, ready to take me in.

I took a final drag of my joint as Jess gripped me, her hand working me with a fierce rhythm. Fully hard, I groaned as her tongue joined in, teasing and tasting. The mix of the weed’s hazy buzz and her eager mouth sent waves of pleasure crashing through me.

She took me deeper, her lips and hand in sync, pulling me in and out with a steady, hungry pace. I ran my fingers through her hair, guiding her now and then, my eyes drifting into the shadowed void as ecstasy built.