Movie Night

Looking back on it, I don't think I have ever been so excited to see a movie.

It all started with a conversation I had with her a few weeks prior; we were talking about our porn preferences... which for us is not unusual. She had mentioned that she was into the videos where a girl on public transportation gets groped. I was a bit surprised... but I'm a horn dog, so I didn't judge; in fact, I offered to grope her if we found an opportunity. We came to the conclusion that since there's no subway in our area, such a thing might be difficult. I thought about it for a minute, and came up with an idea. I told her that the 50 shades movie was still in theaters; we could get tickets late into the run, when it wouldn't be crowded, and sit in the back row. Then, when the movie got to the interesting part, go to town on each other. At first I wasn't sure if she would go for it; when she told me she was interested, it was hard to contain my excitement.

A couple of weeks went by, since we both had work and our schedules didn't line up quite right. When an opportunity finally presented itself, I found out that 50 shades was no longer at the theater we were planning on meeting at. That left Cinderella (an obvious no-go), The Lazarus Effect (which she said was a no-go), and... Chappie. I couldn't help but laugh a bit at the notion, but I think it was mostly from the excitement. After such a long time thinking about touching someone, about running your hands along their skin, feeling every inch of them and getting to know them on a whole new level, the realization that it is about to actually happen is surreal. We agreed to catch the 9:30 showing that night.

I showed up super early, left my belt in my car (trying to be stealthy) and went to hang out in the empty theater. I took a seat in the middle of the back row and suffered through the pre-movie entertainment; interviews for cheesey TV shows and ads warning people to talk to their kids about alcohol. Just before the previews I got a text from her, asking if she had beaten me there. I took just long enough to stretch out some of the tension that had been building in my shoulders and told her no.

She came into the theater a moment later and made the climb up the stairs to the back row. She was wearing a dress that displayed (and a jacket that did little to hide) her considerable assets, and her wavy red hair was loose around her shoulders, which for some reason has always grabbed my attention without fail. She took the seat next to me and we shot the breeze for a minute, talking about the terrible pre-show media before the actual previews started. When the lights dimmed, I felt my heartbeat pick up a bit. A few more people came into the theater and I quietly vowed to kill them if any sat in the back row, but we were lucky and got left alone.

As the movie got started she and I whispered back and forth, making smartass comments about what we were seeing. Hugh Jackman was looking especially Australian, wearing shorts that I found ridiculous. I made a comment about not being able to take him seriously dressed like that; she laughed, and as she did she lifted the armrest that was between our seats. I caught myself flexing my hand so hard my joints were creaking.

The movie continued for a little while longer, the two of us so close together we were almost touching. I didn't know if she could feel it, but to me it was like having a static charge in the air, just waiting for contact. After what seemed like a small eternity, she caught my eye and slid her arm under mine. Out of all the storms I have ever seen, none could match the electricity I felt when we touched. It was like a bolt of lightning that went straight to my bones and set my blood on fire. I had been keeping half an eye on the movie for the sake of making fun of Jackman, but now I was only pretending to watch it. We sat there for a few minutes, barely touching each other, our fingers tracing lines on each other's arms and the tension building. Soon I couldn't stand it any longer and I moved my hand to her leg, brushing my fingers up and down the skirt on the outside of her thigh. She reached down and moved the skirt over my hand so that I was touching her skin. Slowly, tracing lines back and forth, I moved further up and around her thigh until I was following the edge of her panties, then rubbing up and down the surface. Her hand moved to my leg and I wondered if she could tell how little room I had left in my jeans. I started to work my fingers under the edge of her panties, having completely forgotten about the movie. I was confused when she stopped me, at least until she shifted in her seat to take her panties off and adjust her position. Surprised again. I slid my hand back under her skirt and felt the wetness that was building between her legs; my left hand was starting to get stiff from tension, but I barely noticed it as I focused on her reactions to what I was doing. I worked my hand up and down, teasing her a bit at a time, before moving a finger inside her. I switched back and forth, outside, then inside, watching her face out of the corner of my eye as she pretended to watch the movie. Her eyes closed and her breathing became more pronounced as I went on; it was a huge turn-on to watch. The movie got to what must have been an exciting part; there was a lot of noise to cover us. She grabbed my hand and directed it where she wanted it to go, putting her head on my shoulder to stifle her whimpers. The feel of her lips on my arm was galvanizing in ways I never expected. She built to a shivering crescendo, my fingers soaked from what we were doing while the other patrons remained oblivious. I, on the other hand, have never been more aware. I loved every second of it.

When she was finished, she leaned over onto me and moved her hands to my belt line; her timing was perfect, since by that point I was about to explode. She got my jeans undone, but then paused; I think she was noticing that the movie was drawing to a close, which didn't leave us much time. She lifted her face close to mine, and the drive to kiss her would have gotten the best of me if she hadn't started talking. She asked me if she could take care of me in the car after the movie was over. Weighing the pros and cons, I determined that there weren't really any cons and nodded. She settled into my side and we more or less watched the remainder of the movie, still caressing and feeling one another. I worked my hand around the edge of her bra, feeling the curves that have held a spot in my mind for quite a long time; she wrote a message on her phone promising she wouldn't leave me hanging.

The movie ended without my really knowing what the damn thing was about except for a robot, Yo-landi and Hugh Jackman channeling his true self. We made our way outside, talking about the sort of things that happened in theaters when 50 shades was playing. Once outside, we decided to go to my car, since it was away from anyone else's. We sat down in the front seats, and it was back to square one, making awkward small talk and beating around the bush. After a couple of minutes, she told me to keep an eye out for police patrolling around the mall and leaned over into my lap.

The walk outside and the brief talk in the car had given me a bit to calm down, but as soon as she got my pants open and she moved her hand inside my boxers, my blood started rushing again and I got hard as though there hadn't been a pause at all. Slowly, she took me into her mouth, working her way down and rocking her head back and forth. Keeping even the smallest part of my attention on "cop watch" was next to impossible as she continued; I knew from talking to her that she was skilled, but hearing it and feeling it are two extremely different things. I moved some of her hair away from her face, watching what she was doing, which made my heart thunder even more. Every now and then she would pause, saying one or two words while stroking me; it was driving me insane, and I felt like she knew it. I started to rub my hands along her exposed skin again, and she took a moment to drop the straps of her dress and bra off of her shoulders. She went back down, and as she licked and sucked my cock I freed one of her breasts, kneading it in my hand. I have large hands, but... damn. It was finally more than I could take; I heard myself cursing as I broke, unloading into her mouth. All of the tension went out of me as she finished me off, my frame turning to water even as the blood pounded in my ears and my breathing went ragged. Eventually she sat back up on her side of the car; I was mostly speechless. Wordy though I may be, I couldn't think of something good to describe exactly how amazing it had been.

We exchanged a few words after that, talking about how it was going to be our inside joke, and then she got out to go back to her own car. I sat for a couple of minutes, staring at my windshield and trying to recover. As I drove away, we started texting each other again, thanking each other for an "interesting" evening. I told her that I might have to write about it.