Elijah
I'd been going to hardcore punk shows since I started university three years ago.
There were two totally different hardcore scenes in my city -- the river divided the bright shopping centres from the seedy industrial complexes and there was a distinct culture for each side of the bridge.
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Damien
I was already in love with Elijah by the time I saved him from a rapist thug, but I hadn't really admitted it to myself.
I first noticed him when I was manning a merchandise stall at No Way Out -- the big venue hired for hardcore punk gigs where both straight-edgers and skins can come, kids from either side of the bridge and the two different scenes.
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I had made friends with Stacy and Greg at the gym I go to. Stacy caught my eye the very first time I saw her. She had a vibrant, mischievous energy about her. And her body was spectacular. She stood 5' 8" and was beautifully curvy. Strong and sexy she had 37" hips a 29" waist and a stunning, bouncy pair of natural 38 DD breasts that got my cock hard just looking at them.
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The last thing I expected to see when I got home was my girlfriend naked on our bed, her legs spread wide, her own tits in her hands and her fingers pinching her nipples. The most surprising part of it, though, was that face down in her crotch was a guy that wasn't me.
He was eating her madly, his hands under her ass, holding her to him.
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