Here Loud Proud And Punk

The bright lights glared in his eyes as he stared out into the room. It was chaos of the most beautiful kind. His hand crashed down onto the guitar strings as he screamed his soul out at the assembled mass.

'He', was Johnny Chaos, he fronted Social Suicide; and anarchist punk band that always seemed to be on the cusp of getting properly 'somewhere'. He stoop, stage centre, holding his Les Paul dressed in two-tone brothel creepers, tight black jeans and a studded black denim vest over his t-shirt. His hair stood charged on end proudly; black bar a white off centre streak. This was not a band to mess with.

"No society gives a shit,

If you wanna be free, you gotta take it.

NO AUTHORITY!"

He shrieks his words, his throat burning white hot, passion firing from his lungs.

"Thank you, have a great night everybody."

Putting his guitar away, Chaos steps of stage. The room is still heaving with the punx, the whole scene is out tonight it seems, and then some.

A streak of blue in the crowd catches his eye. A small girl pushes out of the mass; her hair is blue and heavily made up eyes seize his vision. She catches him looking and blushes, smiling slightly. She wears a men's Misfits t-shirt and a tartan skirt, with a pair of boots.

"Hi."

"Hey." Her voice drips shyness, "Your set was really awesome tonight."

"Oh thanks." Johnny smiles, making her blush again.

The tones of a record come out of the clubs sound system and the room begins to bounce again. Their conversation continues all the while. She, Kitty, laughs and grabs Johnny's arm.

"Fuck." An elbow collides with the side of Johnny's head and he hits the floor.

"What the fuck man, be careful!"

He pushes the man with the elbow, who slams to the ground with no inconsiderable amount of force.

Bouncers grab Johnny and manhandle him to the door. He smacks onto the gravel, it's dark and the night is cool. Before he can pick himself up he can hear Kitty's voice.

"Fucking dickheads." The bouncers shrug and close the door with a bang.

Johnny reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pack of rollies; he places one in his mouth and fumbles for a lighter before offering the packet to Kitty.

They sit on the gravel as people mill around them until the streets are empty and cold.

"Fuck its cold. Wanna go to my van?"

He pulls Kitty to her feet and pulls out a key. The backdoors of the van of the dilapidated van come open with just a little resistance and they climb inside. Johnny kicks the stereo as Kitty sits delicately on an old mattress, and a primal punk sound echoes around the vans interior.

They sit, just looking at each other. Kitty leans forward and steals a kiss, she pulls back and grins looking for a sign of approval. He gives it and returns the gesture, their lips locked in passionate fire.

His hands run up and down her back unconsciously as she lifts his t-shirt, his vest long gone, over his head, gently brushing the spikes. Her nails scrape down his spine resulting in a deep intake of breath from Johnny as his hand trace down Kitty's back.

Kitty pulls away, her eyes still locked deep into Johnny's. She bites her lip lightly and pulls up her t-shirt over her head, exposing her c-cup breasts. Johnny leans forward and closes his mouth around one, catching the nipple between his teeth, toying with the other with his fingertips. She lets out a soft moan and begins to play with her wetness through her underwear.

"Take me." She whispers delicately into his ear.

His mouth returns to hers and his hands move to her back, leaving pink scratches as they move downwards to grab her arse. Kitty pulls her hand away from her wet spot, licking it clean as she slips out of her skirt and underwear. She undoes Johnny's belts and slowly moves his jeans down. She stops at his knee, she lets her fingertips run softly up his thigh and briefly over his throbbing crotch; and continues to pull his jeans over his feet, leaving him in his boxers and her, in nothing.

In that instance all breath leaves his body - she is stunning; her long legs, her curves, those perfect breasts, her soft, shaven mound, dripping anticipation. But, even in this moment, as he pulls his underwear off, it's her eyes that grab him.

He puts a hand on the back of her head, pulling her to his as her hands roam his body. She clenches her hand around his seven inches and slowly, firmly, begins to stroke it as his breath grows more and more ragged. A drop of pre-cum forms at the end as he pulls her hand away.

Kitty gasps as his hand briefly brushes past her clit as he lines himself up and slips inside her, forcing all her breath out with a moan that echoes in the confines of the van.

He pulls out, leaving barely the head still inside, then, in a split-second, with a thrust, his entire length is inside her tight wet cunt up to the hilt. His breath becomes even more ragged as her moans grow in volume and pitch.

"Oh fuck!" Her face glows with a pink hue, her eyes are closed tight and she bites her lip hard between moans. Her legs are around Johnny's sides as he drives into her with ever increasing pace.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuckfuckfuck yess."

He feels her become tighter around him and her moans begin to become more like screams, all the while he feels himself getting closer to the brink.

He switches to longer, drawn out strokes as her screams grow still.

"Ohh, faster oh God!"

Johnny obliges, turning his movements into a jackhammer; fast, sudden power-heavy thrusts, pummelling her sensitive are.

"OHHH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUUUCK OHHHH FUCKING GOD FUCK OHH FUUCK OHHH."

Her muscles tighten even more around him and begin to spasm; she throws her head back letting out screams and moans loud enough to drown out much of the music. She begins to squirt, soaking Johnny with her juices as her orgasm subsides. He puts a strong, powerful stroke into her and explodes inside her with a grunt, causing her to release a final moan. And, at last spent they fall together onto the old mattress, in the dilapidated van, on a cold night, at peace with the world.