The Tattered Promise
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2018 by Sid Emmet

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Back in 1984 Dave met Marie at a frat party, a place she wouldn't be caught dead in. He followed her around campus until she decided to call his bluff and invite him to a punk show, a place she assumed he wouldn't be caught dead in. She was wrong. This is only a tiny part of their story.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   School   Vignettes   Exhibitionism   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Safe Sex  

Dave pushed through the heavy swinging door and blinked in the hot smoky darkness. The flow of people moved him forward as his eyes adjusted. Marie, in her goth getup practically vanished in front of him. She glanced back occasionally and her pale face appeared to be floating in front of him, her eyebrow raised, a quirk of a smile on her lips. The sound, the loud, brutal, sound assailed him from the huge stacks of speakers on the stage. He felt completely out of place, but when she tugged on his hand he followed. It was that simple.

“Stranger in a strange land.” He thought.

She led him to the side of the auditorium where the crowd was thinner, and he placed his back against the wall. He wasn’t scared, just a little nervous. His frat brothers would have called this place a freak show, but Dave was slower to judge. Sure, there was some wild looking people here. Studded leather jackets, mohawks so tall and stiff, their wearers had to tilt their heads to get through doorways, and lots and lots of black. Marie had told him to wear a black t-shirt, but he quickly realized his favorite Jack Daniels shirt, jeans and his flat top stood out just as much as his pale skin and blue eyes had stood out at the quinceanera he’d been to last summer. He was obviously an outsider. But Marie had brought him so he tried to smile when people met his eyes, and occasionally someone would smile back. He felt her tug his hand. She was on tiptoes, her mouth cupped to reach his ear.

“What do you think?” She yelled, barely audible above the band.

“Uh ... Intense!” He yelled back, his voice was better suited to the din than hers, but the answer clearly didn’t satisfy her. Her trademark smirk was gone, and there was the hint of worry in her eyes.

“Good though! Just intense!” He yelled again. “Thanks for inviting me.” He tried.

It must’ve been the right thing to say because she broke into a big smile, and squeezed his hand. As they stood, he got used to the lights, the sound, the smoke. Marie was nodding her head along with the beat. Her teased hair amplified her movements. He realized people weren’t really dancing, at least out here at the edge. There was some kind of movement in the center of the crowd, but even with his height he couldn’t see over the crowd. Most people seemed to be just standing and nodding their heads, occasionally moving a little back and forth. He found himself doing the same. The music ... well it was something else. He tried to wrap his head around it. It was fast, and loud, and mostly noise. He had no idea what the singer was saying, but he said it at a full throated scream whatever it was. Dave smiled, thinking about what his music-teacher mother would think. He tried to imagine her breaking down the chord structure and writing out the notations as fast as they were being played. Marie looked back at him and returned his smile. It made his heart flutter.

‘What have you got yourself into Davey-boy?’ He thought.

It was his mother’s phrase, one he heard often growing up. But the answer was simple: Marie. He couldn’t explain it, hadn’t even tried. When she had walked into the Christmas party at their frat-house three months ago, he’d been a goner. Until tonight he’d felt like a lovesick puppy whenever he saw her. But she’d asked him out, and he’d wanted to shout it from the rooftops. So here he was, excited, elated and scared shit-less he was going to screw it up.

After a while, Marie tugged his arm again, so he leaned down.

“I’m gonna go in the pit.” She yelled.

The confusion on Dave’s face must’ve been obvious. She rolled her eyes at him and just tugged him towards the center of the crowd. As they pressed past other people Dave was suddenly aware that there was a giant brawl happening in the middle of the floor. Instinctively he pulled Marie back and got in front of her.

‘Jesus, there must be 20 or 30 people fighting right there!’ He thought, and no one seemed to give a shit. Adrenaline dumped into his body and he started trying to hustle her back to get her somewhere safe. He realized she was slapping his chest and yelling something

“Stop stop! It’s OK! DAVE! It’s OK!!!” She looked up at him, annoyance warred with amusement. He stopped, thoroughly confused. But kept glancing behind him to make sure the brawl didn’t head this way.

“Let’s go up there” She yelled, pointing to the balcony above the main floor.

The club, a rundown theater that had clearly seen better days, was surprisingly ornate. Dave could pick out the details that marked this as a Victorian opera house. At least it had been. He’d spent enough time working with his dad restoring Victorians back home to recognize the style. With that came a big balcony almost half as large as the main hall, in the gloom he could make out a few heads up there, the glow of the occasional cigarette moved like lightning bugs in the dark.

He nodded and once again she took his hand and led him through the crowd. He was amped up and sweating now, the heat was intense in the tight packed press of bodies. He tried to shake off the adrenaline, but was still jumpy as she led them up the stairs and into a row of seats with only one other couple at the far end. She took a seat and pulled him down into the one next to her. Up here the noise was a lot more manageable, and she leaned over and spoke into his ear.

“It’s OK. That’s the pit. The mosh pit.” Her hot breath in his ear and her scent gave him goosebumps. Dave almost groaned from the sensation. This was perhaps the closest she’d ever been to him, and after the noise and chaos of the main floor, the balcony felt intimate. He tried to decipher her words while simultaneously aware that he had a raging hard-on. He failed.

“What the fuck is a mosh pit?” He asked, the tension in his voice only partially because of his overwhelming feeling of protectiveness for her. Thankfully, she just laughed and squeezed his arm. Her maddening lips were back doing amazing things to his ear. He wanted to turn his head and kiss her so badly, but she’d never given him any sign that it would be met with less than a swift kick to the balls, so he refrained.

“It’s how we dance.” She paused “Well sometimes.” She took a deep breath, and the result made Dave worry he was going to bust right out of his pants. “Look, you can see it from up here. It’s not a fight. There are ... rules ... sort of.” Dave leaned over the edge and watched. She was right, it wasn’t a fight, not exactly. Punches were being thrown, but at the open air, there was shoving, and body checks, but no one was getting beat up. Incredulously Dave saw a couple of punches connect, but they seemed accidental, and no one seemed to get pissed. They just kept moving around and around in a circle. He leaned back and this time got to talk into her ear. Her pale, shell-like, tiny, perfect ear.

“And you want to go into that?” He couldn’t believe it. She was tiny, at least compared to some of dudes in the pit.

She turned shining eyes on him “FUCK YES! It’s sooo fun!”

‘Jesus. Well, in for a penny... ‘ He thought. “OK. Let’s go!”

She clapped and then darted in and kissed him on the cheek. He was completely stunned. Obviously so, as she had to pull him out of his chair and shove him along. She was laughing openly now.

“You are so good for my ego.” She said. “Remember, it’s not a fight, you’re not trying to hit people or start something, OK? It’s just movement.”


Dave was sweaty and sore. His body felt like he’d been busting concrete all day, but she was right. It was fun! He’d been anxious at first, tense and waiting for the first blow to land, but oddly it never did. Or it never felt like a blow. He followed her around the pit and tried to see how to move, and before long he was having a blast. People weren’t angry, they were just ... moving fast and aggressively. He’d taken an elbow to the ribs, and narrowly missed getting punched in the face, his ear was still hot where it had connected, but it wasn’t directed at him personally, just lot of movement in a small space. The floor was slick with sweat and spilled beer, and his shit-kickers couldn’t get any traction. At one point he slipped and fell, and felt someone tumble of the top of him. Just as fast as he went down, two hands grabbed him roughly and pulled him to his feet. He tried to do the same to the guy he’d tripped. The pressure to keep moving was intense, and he never got to thank the guy who got him back up, but it had clarified the experience for him. It wasn’t a fight. It was way better.

They stood outside, their bodies steaming in the light of a street-lamp. He looked at her, her hair plastered to her forehead, her skin shiny and slick and the excitement in her eyes and he started getting another damned hardon. She was beautiful, and interesting and he could just get lost in her eyes. No one had ever affected him like this, but he had no idea if it would work out. They came from different worlds, had different friends, different interests ... and the thought of not being a part of her life made him wince.

“You OK?” She was looking at him carefully. Her hand on his arm.

“Yeah.” He looked at her and grinned. “Just sore. You’re right though. That was fucking awesome.”

Her smile was back. “Right?” She leaned into him and whispered conspiratorially “I don’t actually like punk that much, but I love going in the pit.”

“I cant wait for the next time.” He said, surprised that he meant it. She looked equally surprised.

“Yeah?” She paused, a sly look stole across her face “Cool.” She glanced into the street, her face falling into shadow. “So what now?”

Dave thought furiously. He didn’t want the night to end, his cheek still felt branded where she’d kissed him.

“Uh ... want to get something to eat or a drink or I could give you lift home, unless you brought your own car, or...” He trailed off realizing he was babbling.

Her smirk was back. “I didn’t scare you off?”

Dave blinked. “Uh ... no?” He frowned. “Was that what you were hoping for?”

“No,” He could tell she was trying not to smile, but it broke through anyway “No, I wasn’t trying, but I had to know.” She paused and turned back to the street. “C’mon. Walk me home.” She grabbed his hand and started off without looking back.

The spring night was chilly and the heat from the show dissipated quickly. Dave ignored the cold as his mind furiously tried to grapple with the implications. Did this mean anything? They had developed an unlikely friendship, him a frat-house jock, her a ... goth, he guessed. Obviously he’d been smitten with her, his frat brothers loved giving him shit about it, he’d never gotten the idea that she had even considered him as more than an acquaintance. Asking him to this show, and then holding his hand, not to mention the kiss, had been completely out of left field. He was trying to make sense of it, and as he thought, she slowed and let go of his hand.

“Dave.” She was looking away from him. “What do your friends think of me?”

“I don’t care.” Was his instant answer. She snapped her head around to look at him. “I don’t. It doesn’t matter, not to me.”

She had stopped. In the dim light he could see she was frowning. “Doesn’t that affect how you run the frat?” Dave felt like they were talking around the issue.

“What are we talking about?” He asked.

Her faced closed up and she immediately started walking again, not looking at him. “I don’t know. It’s silly. Don’t worry about it.”

“Marie!” He called after her and had to walk quickly to catch up. “C’mon. What’s going on?”

He tried to grab her hand, but she pulled away. “At least talk to me.” He hated the pleading in his voice, but he felt the joy of the night come crashing down and he would do anything to fix that. He stopped and just looked up at the stars. This sucked. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear her come back. When he looked down she was right in front of him only inches away, her big eyes looking at him, worry etched on her face.

In a voice barely more than a whisper she asked “Can we make this work?”

The emotional whiplash robbed him of his voice. He looked at her for a long moment, getting lost in those eyes. He felt himself nod solemnly. The worry on her face eased.

“If I invite you in, will promise to not have sex with me?” Her voice was a little stronger, but her body language said she was rigid with tension.

“I promise.” He croaked. But hope flared like a supernova behind his eyes. Besotted he may have been, but he never actually imagined something like this would happen. He felt dizzy. He saw her shiver and wrap the leather jacket tighter before she nodded to herself.

“C’mon, it’s fucking cold out here.” But he stopped before she turned away. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She froze in surprise as he gently kissed her. A solid, slow deep kiss. She squeaked into his mouth and then wrapped her arms around him and kissed back just as deeply. She held him tight, pressing her whole body against his, gently undulating against him and making little moaning sounds. They both blinked in astonishment when he pulled back. Her pole-axed look faded into a lazy grin that made his balls ache.

“I may regret making you promise that.” She said in a husky voice before stepping back. She gripped his hand, fingers intertwined and gave him a feral smile. “It’s just up here.” And broke into a brisk walk.

He was surprised when she climbed the steps to a big Victorian with a wrap around porch. He’d expected a tiny apartment, or shitty duplex. This place was nice and in surprisingly good shape. He couldn’t help saying “Wow” as he saw the leaded glass windows surrounding the beautiful quarter sawn oak door. She stopped and gave him an embarrassed look.

“Yeah ... I ... uh ... I’ll explain later.” She opened the door and he followed her. The inside was just as nice, if a little worn. It had obviously avoided the cheap nasty remodels so many of these big houses had succumbed to in the 60 and 70s.

“Do you want some tea, or anything?” She asked quietly. He thought maybe she wanted to pump the brakes and he found that he was fine with that.

“If you’re having something, sure.” He said a little cautiously. He caught her eye-roll, even in the dark, but at least there was a smile along with it. She walked over and placed her hands on his chest.

“Be honest with me. That’s the first step to making this work. You spend a lot of time walking on eggshells around me. That’s got to stop, OK?” It was a rebuke, but a gentle one.

“Got it.” Her face told him he needed to say something else. “So ... uh ... what’s your plan?” She cocked her head at him.

“Well, I’m cold. I can make some tea and we can talk in the kitchen. Or we can go up to my room and make out for a while and see if that warms us up.” Her smirk was back, and he felt relieved.

“Oh! That’s easy. Fuck the tea. Let’s go upstairs.”

His heart was hammering in his chest, but he was ready to run sprints up those stairs if it got him another kiss. Her laugh told him he was on the right track, but he had to quell his impatience as she put her fingers to her lips and began creeping up to the second floor. He passed the time watching the flash of her thighs appear from under her short skirt. The artfully torn black stockings made her skin look even more pale and he realized he was salivating.

She took his hand, her eyes glittering, as she led him down the hall to a door covered by a British flag. She opened it and then spun around to kiss him quickly, before pulling him inside. He looked around and almost laughed. It suited her perfectly. There were band posters all over the walls, mostly of bands he’d never heard of, but dark and spooky would describe most of them. There was a large rumpled bed, with dark bedding and what looked like a sheet tacked to the ceiling to create a sort of canopy. Piles of laundry, shoes, books and papers were everywhere. The faint smell of incense and Marie made him take a deep breath. The chill was already wearing off, and he turned to look at her. She had pressed herself against her door, and looked at him expectantly.

“Uh ... I didn’t clean.” She looked at her shoes. “I didn’t expect tonight to go so well.”

Dave laughed. “I don’t care. Actually this is perfect. This is exactly how I pictured it.”

She gave him a funny look. “You thought about my room?!”

This time he rolled his eyes at her. “Of course. I know I’ve been making a fool of myself since Christmas, mooning after you. Of course I thought about your room, and everything else about you. How else was I supposed to spend the time? Homework?” He laughed and was grateful to see her smile.

She walked slowly over to him, stepped in close and fiddled with his jacket.

“I thought it was a joke, Dave. I thought you were fucking with me at that party. You know make fun of the freak.” Dave frowned, but she wasn’t looking at him. “Then I was sure it was a setup, like you were going to invite me out and stand me up, or worse...”

“I would nev-” She reached up and put her fingers on his mouth. They were cold, but her touch electrified him.

“I know.” She whispered. “I know that now. At least I think I know. I’m...” She stopped and stepped away again and gave a big sigh. “I really really like you. I didn’t want to, and I don’t know why, but I do. Tonight was a test, I guess. Part of me couldn’t wait to spend time with you away from school, but part of me wanted to freak you out and have you do something shitty so I could write you off. You know, make fun of somebody, or start a fight, or just not show up.” She sighed again, but this time she looked into his eyes and stepped close. “But you didn’t do any of those things. And I had a really good time, so I’ve decided to stop fighting it.” She slipped her hands around his neck and drew his head down and gave him a slow tender kiss that seemed to last forever.

Dave felt like he was spinning, but he wouldn’t give up this kiss for anything. His body seemed to ignite with desire for her. Her arms let go, but her kisses never stopped, he heard her jacket drop to the floor, and then her hands were back slipping inside his jacket and working it off. The slow tender kisses began to get hotter, more intense. At some point, although he couldn’t tell exactly when, they had flopped back on her bed. He was stroking her flank, and teasing the hair at the base of her neck. He could feel her shudder and heard her moans as she wrapped a leg around his and pulled him close. Mindful of his promise, he was slow to do more than kissing, but Marie apparently had no qualms, she grabbed his wrist and placed it firmly on her breast. He could feel the hard nipple through the complex cloth layers of her top. When he squeezed, she moaned and broke the kiss only to dive back in and bite his lower lip. She began writhing against his leg, he could feel the heat of her thighs through his jeans and he was starting to feel his control slipping. He broke the kiss and they panted into each others mouths as he tried to control his desire. She blinked a few times.

“Wow.” She said, hoarsely.

“Yeah” he agreed.

“I already regret that promise, and we still have all of our clothes on.” She panted. Her eyes hooded and the raw need on her face. That sobered him a little.

“I gave you my word, and that’s that. But why did you make me promise that?” He didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but he felt like there were things still out there in the dark, and he was terrified of tripping over them.

“I’m not on birth control.” She said, glancing away from him. “And I hate condoms” she said quickly when he was about to suggest it. He felt something in her body. She’d gone rigid, where moments before she’d been flowing over him like paint.

“That’s fine. I’ll wait as long as you want.” He said quietly, hoping to put her at ease again.

“That’s the problem, I’m tired of waiting. But I know it’s dangerous.” She was even more tense, and she’d stopped looking at him.

“Hey” he kissed her forehead, and gave her a hug. That seemed to break the spell, at least a little she burrowed into his chest and squeezed him hard.

“Dave.” She said into his shirt “Can I tell you something?”

He nodded. “Of course.” He paused. “But you don’t have to. I made a promise, and I’m fine with that. You set the pace OK?” He glanced down to find her eyes boring into him.

 
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