Punk Rock Princess

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As soon as my eyes fell upon Gwen, I was hooked. This skinny punk chick wearing a plaid skirt, platform leather boots with knee high white socks, sporting a pixie hair cut dyed pink, a leather jacket slapped with band logos that I didn’t know of and snakebite piercings on her face – and here I was in a suit.

So what’s a successful real estate agent at 43 like myself doing in a dive bar looking at punk girls? Well, it’s been a long fucking day. A day that started off good with a kiss from the wife, and a deal to close a downtown property in the works. This one was worth millions, and I was planning on buying a new car with the commission. Unfortunately, that all went to shit when the buyer backed out at the last minute. Needless to say, I was pissed about it. So pissed that I yelled at the old man and his lawyers and spit in his face.

No wonder he threatened to sue.

So I left the office, hopped in my not so new BMW, and looked for someplace to have a drink and try and forget about the day. Of course, this was playoff season, and the NHL was ruining my chances at having some solitude in my usual drinking establishments.

It was time to go off-grid.

I never knew anything about the Albert, some old building from way back when. A hotel with a bar, and of course seeing as it was on the side of town where, we’ll call them the less-fortunates, live – there was no chance at a big screen TV and college kids hooting and hollering for their team. What was in there was the smell of stale beer, a haze of smoke, some pool tables, VLTs and a bar that time basically forgot. As soon as I walked in, an old native man looked up from his gambling machine and flashed me a toothy grin. I was about to pull a 180 and get the fuck out when I spotted Gwen; though I didn’t know her name at the time.

Well, it wasn’t just Gwen – her bandmates were there too, setting up for a punk show that would be later that evening, a group called “The Sallies” (whatever the fuck that was supposed to be). You know the kind, local band playing for maybe 50 bucks just to try and get their shitty music out there. Me? I liked some older rock. Give me Metallica or Megadeth, not whatever these kids scream-sang into their microphones.

My phone buzzed in the pocket of my blazer, it was the wife. Ignore. I needed a fucking drink. The female bartender, who looked as though she did enough meth to put a cough syrup magnate out of business, gave me the once over and asked what I wanted. I settled on a Jack and Coke; having 3 of them as I now and then looked to the band setting up their instruments and testing their speakers – especially that pink-haired bassist girl.

Typically, I am all about the hot blonde broads with the IQ of a loaf of Wonder Bread, girls like Gwen? Shit, I find it hard to even jerk to a girl in porn with a tattoo – but something about her, man. That smile, the way she joked around with the male members of her band, she was full of confidence. This became more apparent when she approached the bar,

“Hey, Martha. Do you have someone working the door tonight?” She asked the woman bartender.

“Yup, Jimmy’s on tonight. Don’t worry, won’t be any trouble.”

“Rough neighbourhood?” I asked out of the blue. Both of them whipped their heads at me and stared as though I was a piece of meat and they were two hungry pit bulls, pulling at their chains to rip into my flesh.

“Well, it’s certainly not the type of place I am sure you’re used to.” The pink-haired punk girl said with a wry grin.

“Hey now, I grew up in a trailer park. Don’t let the suit fool you, I have seen my fair share of shit.” A smirk right back in her direction from me. No bullshit either, I grew up poor as dirt. I mean, like dusty as dirt and not fertilizer. My dad was an out of work factory labourer, mom liked to spend money on lottery tickets – a real pair. They used to get drunk and beat the shit out of each other. Needless to say, I worked my ass off to get where I am and not be anything like my folks.

“Ain’t no one asked you.” The bartender snarled. Before I could tell the old bitch to go fuck herself, punk girl defused the situation.

“It’s cool, I like this guy. I was trailer trash too. What’s your name, guy?”


“I’m Gwen, Chris. Nice to meet ya.” She held out a slender hand with black painted fingernails that were half chipped away, I gave it a quick shake.

“Nice to meet you. So you’re playing tonight?”

“Every second Tuesday. You gonna stick around for the show?”

“It’s not really my thing.” Wait, what the fuck are you saying man!? This chick obviously wants you to check her out…her band out…whatever.

“Ah, c’mon, plenty of old school punks out there.” She poked her tongue out at me with that comment. It was pierced.

“I’m not that old.” I rolled my eyes.

“Well then, stick around. You just might enjoy yourself.”

Fuck it, I would. With Martha the meth-head keeping me in drinks and pretzels I am sure were from 1978.

Each person that walked into the bar looked at me escort ankara as though they were seeing Big Foot in the flesh, or an alien. Hard looking skin head punks, skinny emo boys, mohawks and dirty clothes. I was a stranger in a strange land, but my lifeline in the form of Gwen would pop by the bar now and then, chatting it up with me.

She was 19, highschool drop out but she was a smart one. We chatted about politics, books, even got into a light hearted debate about religion. Then she saw my ring.

“So, married huh?”

Shit. Busted.

“Ah, no, no, wife left me.” Well she would if she found out where I was and who I was with. “I keep meaning to take it off.”

“Shit, that sucks dude. I’m sorry. How long?”

“Couple months now.” Chris, you lying sack of shit.

“So how long has it been since you been laid?” The question made me sputter on the drink I brought to my lips and made her laugh, “Too personal?”

“No, no…” I wiped down my shirt and tie with a bar napkin. “It’s fine. Yeah, it’s been a bit.”

“Poor man.” She teased, reaching over to pinch one of my cheeks. “Who knows, you may find someone here you like.”

I wanted to say something witty like ‘I already have’, play it all cool like in the movies. Instead I just nodded and gave her a dopey,

“Uh huh.”

Half an hour later, I was watching Gwen do her thing on stage with her band. I won’t lie, while punk really isn’t my thing – they rocked. Then three songs in, Gwen was on the mic.

“Everyone see that suit over there?” She called out. The crowd turned to me and I got booed.

“FUCKING CORPORATE ASSHOLE!” One of them yelled out.

“Whoa, whoa, chill guys. That’s my new friend Chris. He’s cool as fuck and don’t give a fuck, ain’t that right Chris?”

All eyes on me. Talk about awkward…and intimidating.

I nodded.

“Well Chris isn’t just some corporate goon, he’ll show you all, right Chris?” What the fuck was this spinny bitch doing? “Chris, show em all you’re cool! Take off your tie and BURN THAT MOTHER FUCKER!” Jesus Christ, what had I gotten myself into? Then her chant began, “Burn it, burn it, burn it!” Soon the crowd would be into it and she strummed her bass along with them.

Well, there goes a $155 silk tie. One of the bigger skinhead looking fuckers came over and offered me his Bic. I whipped the tie off my neck and held it up,

“Fuck it!” I yelled back, suddenly a filled with energy – and I lit that fucker up. Well, eventually. These things weren’t exactly pieces of paper. But once I got it going, well the crowd cheered and the band went back to work.

“Hey!” Martha yelled from behind the bar, “Try not to burn the fucking place down, okay?!”

I tossed the tie on the floor and stamped it out.

After 20 more minutes of anarchy and mayhem, the band finished their set and Gwen came bouncing up to me.

“So? How was that for you?” She asked with a laugh.

“Painful.” I replied. “But fun.”

“See, I knew it!” She spoke loudly over the sound of the crowd and the recorded punk music playing over the sound system.

“Knew what?”

“That you weren’t just some old, boring fuck.”

Gwen sat with me and ordered a rum and Coke. We didn’t say much, just drank. I was starting to feel it pretty good, especially since I hadn’t eaten anything but stale pretzels since this morning.

“Hey, Chris?” She tugged on my sleeve.


“I need a smoke, wanna come with me?”

“Yeah, sure, I guess.” I started to make my way to the front door but she grabbed me by the shirt.

“Not that way, let’s go out back.”

I guess being in the band has its privileges. We pushed our way through the crowd and past her band who was already starting to pack up. Gwen informed them she would be right back and whisked me down a hallway that stank of piss and out the back door.

A van was parked nearby, probably for the band and their gear, and the filthy alley was dimly lit. I swear I saw a rat scurry beneath some garbage – but it could have been a small dog. Gwen leaned up against the van and sparked up a cigarette.

“So what did you think of the show?” Gwen asked as her red lips drew in a puff of smoke.

“It was pretty good. Even the tie bit.”

“Don’t take it personally, I just think you needed it.”

“I did.” I admitted. “I also need to take a leak.” Way too many drinks tonight was taking its toll on me.

“And? What’s stopping you? Alley smells like it’s been used as a toilet anyways.”

“I can wait until you’re done.”

“Pfft, c’mon man. What? Afraid I’ll judge you?” Gwen challenged.

“I…no?” What the fuck could I have said.

“Well then do it, take a leak. Wouldn’t be the first time I have seen a guy take a piss before.”

Well now it was going to be even harder. Not only would Gwen be there, but that last comment got a rise out of me, I could feel my cock getting stiff in my pants.

“I guess.” I must have sounded pretty defeated. Shoulders slumping, I turned away from the pink-haired girl and made escort etlik my way over to a nearby wall. I undid my belt, wrestled my half hard cock out and held it in my hand.

“Nice dick.”

“JESUS!” I almost scrambled back and fell into a pile of trash. Somehow, Gwen creeped up on me and was staring down at my junk. “What the fuck?”

“Relax.” Gwen whispered as she leaned up into my ear, “Let me help.” Her small hand reached down and grasped my cock, holding it lightly. My prick jumped at her touch, soft, warm…erotic. “Mm, someone’s happy.”

“A…little, yeah…” My free hand was limp at my side while the other steadied my drunken ass against the wall.

“So you gonna piss?” She whispered and I could feel her breath against my collar.

I gave her a nod, but man was this going to be some epic task. Every guys knows how hard it is to take a leak when you’re horny as fuck, and the way she was now stroking my ever hardening prick – well, you get the idea. All this thinking about it and not actually paying attention, it was only seconds later that a stream of hot piss erupted from my prick and against the wall.

“Ngh…shit…” I stammered as Gwen held my pissing cock. The stream tapered off, but then started again, splashing the brick and I could feel some of the splash back.

“Damn, you really needed to go…” Gwen muttered as I kept going, draining my bladder as this girl held onto me. By the end, a trickle of piss splashed upon her hand and I was spent – but not because I was fully empty, now it was because my cock was fully erect.

“Gwen, I…”

“Stop talking.” She cut me off. “I need pee now.”

She released my cock and went under her skirt, pulling down a ratty looking pair of red lace panties. Gwen completely removed them and as I stood there like an idiot, she hung them on my cock. Man, I must have looked fucking ridiculous.

But she didn’t laugh, instead she squatted down on the ground and lifted her short skirt, offering my a view of a completely bare, pale cunt. Her back rested against the brick wall where I had just pissed and she reached between her legs and spread her puffy pussy lips.

“Watch me.” She said. I wasn’t about to look away, not now. Even in the dim light of a nearby streetlamp, I could see the glistening pink of her delicious looking pussy, and then the golden stream that rushed out of it as she began to relieve herself below me. “Mmm…” She cooed as her stream splashed the alley.

“Holy fuck…” Was the only thing I could say, now idly stroking my cock in front of her face with her red panties around it as Gwen continued. I watched as she kept herself wide open and the last of her piss trickled out – but she didn’t stop. Now she was rubbing her piss soaked cunt, looking up at me.

“Did you like that?”

“Y-yes…” I was almost stunned silent, watching her play with her pussy with two fingers as she squatted over the puddle she made.

“Bet you would like it more if I sucked you off.” Still leaning against the pissed on wall, Gwen reached out with her free hand and grabbed the waistband of my pants, pulling me to her until my cock slapped her face.

“Gwen…fuck, what is this?”

“This is me wanting your cock in my mouth.” She said with a grin as she removed the panties from my shaft and grabbed it, stroking my meat against her face. “C’mon, you knew this was going to happen. Why else were you going to stick around?”

Good point.

The next thing I knew, my cock was in her mouth and she went to town on it. I have never had a girl with a pierced tongue blow me before, but let me tell ya, this was a game changer. Everything you have heard about it making it feel better is 100% true.

Instinct crushed reason, and I rested one of my hands on the top of her head while the other braced my weight against the wall. She simultaneously stroked and sucked me, pulling off to flick her tongue against the head and look up at me before swallowing me once more. During all of this, I looked down to see her still playing with herself, two fingers mashing against her clit, causing this little punk rock girl to moan around my aching cock.

I started to buck my hips against her face, my balls slapping up against her chin and with every thrust I would try and go deeper. I am not a small man, I would guess easily 8 inches and thick. So when I heard her make a coughing sound, I knew I had gone too deep and tried to back out.

Gwen wasn’t having it. Her hand released my shaft and grasped onto my ass as my pants and underwear were around my knees, pulling me against her face until finally I was hilted in her mouth, her lips pressed to my groin and she gagged, but wouldn’t let me go.

“Oh fuck…” I groaned, never having my cock sucked like this before. Her face mashed up against me, still swallowing my cock as she moaned and sputtered around its girth.

Finally, she pulled her mouth off of it, coughing for air as ropes of drool connected her lips to my tip. It was the hottest sight I have ever escort demetevler witnessed. Tears rimmed her eyes and caused her thick eye liner to start spilling down her cheeks – absolutely stunning.

“Fuck I love this cock.” She said, licking her lips as she grabbed it once more. “Haven’t had one this big since junior high.”

“Jesus…” This girl was something else.

“I want you to fuck me, daddy.” She looked up at me, jerking me off with her soft hand. “Do you want to fuck me?”

“Yes…fuck yes…” That was all the invitation I needed. Wait. Did she just call me daddy?

Didn’t fucking matter. Gwen stood up and turned around, her skirt hiked up over her pale, chubby ass, both hands on the wall as she looked back at me,

“Give me that cock.”

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, or a punk girl in the pussy as it were, I grabbed my prick and guided it to her cunt from behind. Fuck she was wet, easily accepting the tip of my prick. I swear I could feel her pussy gripping at it, trying to suck me in deeper. I obliged and sunk it in all the way, every fucking inch of my slobbered on cock buried deep in her 19 year old cunt and I held myself there, squeezing my ass cheeks and trying not to blow my load already.

“Ngh…shit, you’re so hot…” I breathed, drawing my cock half way out and then plunging it back in much to her delight.

“Fuck…fuck Chris, your wife gave up on such a good dick.” She hissed rocking her hips back against mine. “Fuck me like your cunt wife.”

Damn she was foul, but it turned me on. It made my cock throb inside her hot cunt and I did as she wished, starting to bang into her wet pussy from behind. My hands gripped her hips, holding her tightly as I fucked this punk rock princess for all she was worth. Her cunt made slopping, wet sounds with each plunge, and I could feel her juices dribbling down my hairy balls. All I could do was grunt and moan like some kind of animal, but Gwen still had an active vocabulary.

“Fuck me, fuck me, daddy, mmm, fuck, use my pussy daddy…” One of her hands reached between her legs. I couldn’t see it but I knew she must have been frigging her clit. “Ooohhh, daddy, your cock feels so fucking good…” The pitch of her voice was now higher, bringing out a kink I never knew I would enjoy, but being balls deep in Gwen was enough to change any opinion I had.

“You like that, baby?” My dirty talk was rusty. Usually it was just ‘oh yes, take it, you feel so good’. I had little concept of this kind of lewdness, but I tried my best in my half drunk, full horny mindset. “You like daddy’s cock fucking you?”

“Nggh…ahn…yes daddy, fuck me, ohhh, daddy…cum in my little pussy.” She fired right back, moving along with my trusts so my cock invade the deepest parts of her young cunt. “Cum in your little slut.”

Reason popped up to slap instinct for a moment, telling me that I was fucking some strange girl in a filthy alley without a condom. However, instinct gave a KO punch to reason when Gwen suddenly started to tremble,

“Ooohhh…ohhhh fuck daddy…I’m cumming, cum in me!”

With one final thrust and a grunt, my cock exploded in that hot cunt. I could feel the sperm flooding this punk girl, pumping a thick load deeper than any I threw into my own wife.

Then came the next surprise, as Gwen shuddered, screamed and soaked my balls in her juices. Holy fuck, this girl squirted! My first ever squirter! That alone caused my cock to throb inside of her and finish emptying my load.

I kept myself pressed in her after the fact, my cock twitching and her pussy milking me, but as soon as the afterglow faded, I snapped back into reality and slowly drew my cock out of her body, gasping as the head popped out followed by a dribbling of my sperm onto the pavement.

“Shit…” I was dizzy, thirsty, exhausted and almost sober. I was also feeling mighty guilty. I had never once thought about cheating on my wife, not for real. There was always fantasies of doing so, but this was real! I just fucked some 19 year old, punk bass player I didn’t know from a hole in the wall.

“What a mess.” Gwen said with a grin as she picked up her panties from the ground and started sliding them up her legs. “It has been awhile, huh?”

“So…” I watched her flatten out her skirt along her legs, “What now?”

“Now?” She asked, looking in her jacket for her cigarettes. “Now I have another smoke, head back in, help my band pack up and head home. You do…you, I guess.”

“Well, fuck.” I was a little let down.

“We did.”

“I mean, that’s it then? I can’t get your number or anything?”

Gwen looked at me with a frown and dug through her jacket,



“No, I mean, you can’t have my number but…” Gwen pulled a piece of folded paper out of her jacket and handed it to me. “You’re a nice guy, Chris. I like you. I mean it. I wasn’t planning on it getting this crazy, maybe some making out…”

“You’re the one who grabbed my dick while I was trying to piss…”

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s the band schedule for this month. We play at a few bars. You want to see me again, you come to the show. I am sure you’ll be easy to find in a crowd. Not many dudes go to punk shows un-ironically wearing suit jackets.”

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