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A cinema visit where the film wasn't the main atraction
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I'm typing this at midnight in my bed. My husband is asleep next to me and I should be too, but what happened just a couple of hours ago has pushed all thoughts of sleep from my mind.

We were looking forward to tonight's date night for weeks. It's been hard to find a baby sitter for our four-year-old daughter but finally our regular Jo is available again after a couple of months away, and Steve and I were able to plan a night out together. We'd both had big lunch meetings at work so we didn't feel like a fancy dinner so instead we opted for a couple of drinks at the local wine bar followed by a movie. I left the choice of movie up to Steve and he, typically, just replied "I don't care really, as long as there's lots of sex in it!"

We laughed, but his choice of "La Choix" certainly lived up to expectations. I'm pretty sure that by about twenty minutes in there wasn't a soft cock or a dry pussy on any seat in the auditorium of our local art house cinema.

I was wearing a black skirt and stockings and a dark red blouse. I'd slipped my coat off and had it on the empty seat next to me so I was a little annoyed when about five minutes into the film - with the lights already down and things just starting to get interesting, I felt a tap on the shoulder and a guy was gesturing to me to move it so he could sit down. There were empty seats three rows forward, but he seemed determined to sit next to me. I moved my coat and put it behind me on Steve's side. It was probably why Steve couldn't see what happened next. Apart from the fact he was goggle eyed at the pretty French actress being seduced on screen, his peripheral vision was blocked by my large coat stacked up beside his head.

It took about three minutes but I felt a hand on my knee. It took me about about another five seconds to register that it was the wrong knee and that the hand didn't belong to Steve. I turned quickly to look at the guy on my right and although I couldn't make out his face very clearly in the dark I could see that he was facing me and had his finger to his lips as if to say "Keep quiet". I took his hand in mine and gently moved his hand off my knee but I didn't say anything to him. He was a good looking man about ten years older than me and very well dressed. I decided to ignore it and continued watching the film.

Within a minute the hand was back. Gently resting on my knee and then stroking lightly. I took the hand as soon as I noticed it and pushed it back. I turned to him and mouthed the word no at him. He smiled and squeezed my fingers. I took my hand away and he left me along for the next hour. At our art house there is a break in the programme and people generally go and get a drink. Steve and I left and had a glass of wine in the bar lobby. I looked for my admirer by couldn't see him anywhere. Eventually the bell sounded for the second half of the film and we all filed back to our seats. My right-hand neighbour had gone but I stacked my coat in the same place on Steve's side, leaving the seat beside me free. Sure enough, five minutes of so after the lights went down he returned to the seat. I found myself thinking what would I do if he started the same tricks again. I hate to make a fuss, but I thought he was taking liberties that he had no right to take.

I needn't have worried about him stroking my knee this time. Instead he reached down as if to pick something up off the floor. It was very dark and I couldn't see what was happening but I felt him undo my shoe and slip it off. My shoes had actually been hurting me that evening so I actually slipped the other one off too. It felt good to have them off but I would rather have done them both myself. In any case, I left the shoe on the stranger's side off - and only pulled my stockinged foot away when I realised he had been massaging it. It felt really good though and if I hadn't been sitting next to my husband at the time I might have enjoyed it. As it was this just made me nervous. At least with the knee stroking no one else could see.

As if he read my mind he straightened up and I felt the hand go to my knee. Or rather, just above it. My skirt had ridden up and he rested his hand on my thigh. I turned to him and shook my head but he just smiled and made the same gesture as before. Then he mouthed something at me. I couldn't hear him and I instinctively bent me head towards him to hear what he was saying. He turned and put his mouth so close that I could feel his warm breath on my ear. "Part your legs for me" was all he said. Then when I shook my head "Don't worry, nothing will happen that you won't be glad about". I hadn't moved in all this time, but his hand had. It was now ten inches further up my thigh. He had pushed my skirt up and the little finger on his left hand was running along my stocking top and brushing the bare flesh of my thigh.

I made a decision. His fingers were warm. He had a kind voice and I realised I was not afraid. Steve was right there next to me. The film was horny and I was already a little wet - although I now suspect there was a part of me that was responding to the trill of this unlooked for attention and not only the pretty French actress (who was now fucking her boyfriend's best friend on the dining table while her unsuspecting boyfriend made them dinner in the kitchen next door).

I parted my legs for him.

To my surprise he didn't move his hand any further up at first. He continued to stroke my thighs, but he also whispered "Kiss me". I turned my head to Steve. He was engrossed in the film. I turned my head to the stranger and met his lips. They merely brushed for a second but it was electric. We had crossed a bridge. I had kissed a stranger while sitting next to my husband. I had opened my legs to him and was welcoming his exploring hand which was now brushing my panties.

"Take them off" he whispered. This I could not do without making it obvious what was happening. I sat there for a minute and then turned to Steve. "I need the loo", I said. I stood up, walked past the stranger to the aisle and disappeared through the exit to the ladies in the lobby. The only person in the lobby was the barman who was standing on the customer side of the bar folding bar towels. "Good film?" he enquired. I nodded. He smiled.

I walked into the ladies and took my panties off. I walked straight out and there was the barman right by the ladies door. I had been in the loo for only ten seconds and was coming out with my panties in my hand. I hadn't even had the presence of mind to put them in my hand bag or pocket. He looked at them and then at me. They were wet and it was obvious what I had done. "My god!" he said "It MUST be a good film!"

I walked embarrassed back into the cinema. Steve smiled at me but returned his attention immediately back to the French actress who, as far as I could make out, was now about to make her fourth conquest. All I could think about was what I was about to do. I sat down and reached for the stranger's hand. I brought his fingers to my thighs and moved my legs part from him to welcome the new fingerprints that were about to explore me for the first time.

As he moved his hand up to my pussy I could feel an amazing orgasm building. This was wicked. Illicit. Delicious and faintly disturbing. I was excited and disgusted by what I was doing. One thing I was not about to do was stop.

His fingers stroked my wet pussy for a minutes before he lightly flicked my clitoris. I let out a low moan and rested my head against his. He kissed my ear and slowly fingered my clit until I could bear it no longer. My fingers clenched his forearm and I shuddered through an intense but silent orgasm. I moved my face up to his and we kissed a silent passionate French kiss.

I whispered "Thank you. That was sensational". It truly was. Steve never saw a thing!

Steve and I exited the film ten minutes later with the rest of the crowd. "God, that was fucking horny!" said Steve. "You don't know the half of it" I thought.

We took a taxi back and Steve ran Jo home while I had a shower. Carla, our daughter, was sleeping soundly and I decided I would pretend I was asleep too. I'm sure Steve was horny after the film and wanted to fuck me, but I wasn't sure I wanted to after tonight.

So here I am. Still awake at, now, 1 AM with a head full of thoughts of a handsome stranger I allowed to finger me in my local art house cinema. Don't judge me. I'm only human.

But there's an Italian season next month...

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  • COMMENTS
25 Comments
morefunnakedmorefunnakedover 3 years ago
loved it

(and I'm an American no less!) - a sexy little tidbit of an encounter.

5 from me and now hoping that you've published more

26thNC26thNCalmost 4 years ago

I'm typing this around midnight, Western time, and this was just an insultingly silly story.

DWornockDWornockover 9 years ago
Very good.

However, much too short so I could only rate it 3 stars.

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago

Liked your story, take no notice of the adverse comments. I took my wife to a theatre that had a erotic film, we were young, there was nudity and implied sex but no full on sex. I would have described my wife as conservative, at the half time interval i asked if she wanted to go home, no, we went back in. After awhile she reached for my hand and put it on her knee, i moved my hand up, she parted her legs, i moved it higher to discover that she had removed her panties. I began slowly fingering her, a rape scene came on, she moved against my hand, i pushed a finger inside her, still fingering her hard clit and she closed her legs hard, trapping my hand as she orgasmed. Throughout the rest of the film i brought her to 3 more orgasms. When the film finished, we got up, i was trying to hide my erection. We drove, she said pull over there. It was a small park near a river. Undo your pants quick, i did, my cock sprang out, fuck me, we only had a small car. I looked around, i got out, went round to her door, unlocked it, on your knees, she quickly turned sideways, lifted her dress, and i fucked her hard and fast, my cum blasting into her, don't stop, i saw 2 people walking towards us in the distance, i kept fucking, that's it, that's it and i felt her orgasm, so wet around me, then she just seemed to collapse. I pulled back, quickly shut the door, got back in my side and drove away. We went often to see erotic films.

seekerazseekerazover 9 years ago
badidea211 you are right

Passing judgement on others private relationship agreements is not and should not be my purview. However, responding to a comment made by yourself, not the actual story, about leaving "Steve" in the dark is fair game in that you convey a certain about of hubris in your leaving him in the dark, at least in my opinion. Of course he may have requested that you keep him blissfully uniformed which changes the complexion of the arrangement. As I said before, it really isn't mine to judge your or anyone else's relationship. I do think it's fair game to respond to the comment.

People come to Loving Wives for many reasons. I was naive enough, and dumb enough to not read the subtitle, that initially I thought some wives actually loved their husbands in these stories. And some do. I will also confess that I have been hurt by the other kind of "loving wife" and that colours (nod to British spelling here) my reactions. These days I have used Loving Wives as therapy, forcing me to face and address the hurts and pains that I have largely inflicted upon myself. I'm less and less interested in the section with each story read because, I believe, I'm dealing with myself. But, as one who was "Blissfully Unaware" and not by choice I react stronger than most having wasted 18 years of my life on a fairy tale. But that's not your responsibility.

Do you actually believe that today's society and mores are more enlightened than the 17th century? I've seen no evidence of it and find it ironic that many who make that claim will characterize deceit and betrayal as somehow enlightened. What consenting adults do sexually is no business of mine but to consent one has to be aware. Pride of deception is sad.

I think that part of your perception of the Puritan's in North American is misinformed or coloured by your own presuppositions. Let me say that I am not an apologist for the Puritan ethic but to characterize them as wanting to force their morals on the community is simply wrong. Folks were invited to join a community that held those standards (rightly or wrongly) and those who came, came with that in mind. Like you, I suspect, I am opposed to forcing morality on others but that was not the case in the original colonies.

Thank you for your reasoned and reasonable response to my comment. I would challenge the assertion that modern day Britain or Europe is more enlightened than the Puritans of the past, just different agendas. And to clarify again, while the "open" lifestyle turned out to be not for me (an the vast majority of those with whom I have corresponded over the years about the lifestyle in retrospect) what any couple does is their business. I do object to deceit and betrayal and any rationalization thereof.

I apologise for the length and disorganisation of this comment. I wish you well and success in the writing that you do.

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago
Ignore the criticism

I think you've done a beautiful job telling a story that follows a simple but compelling erotic idea. This was posted in Loving Wives, a catalog of some of the most base stories of adultery and cuckolding, presumably a category of story your critics enjoy, yet their comments indicate that they can't tolerate infidelity. Ridiculous.

Great effort. I personally love this scenario and have talked with many friends and lovers about it, or versions of it, many times. I have never been "the guy in the story" but have often thought about how to pull it off. I was glad to see your take on it.

Thanks.

badidea211badidea211over 9 years agoAuthor
Thought-provoking

Thank you seekeraz for including your moniker with your comment. You give voice to a legitimate point of view and I respect that, although one always finds oneself on thin ice passing comment on other people's marriages. It is simply impossible to know (and unbecoming and inappropriate to ask) anything about the private agreements and arrangements they might have.

Puritans were those who remained behind to purify the church. It is an understandable (and a common misbelief) to think that the Puritans were those who emigrated. In northwest Europe Puritans were responsible for some of the most restrictive and vindictive legislation of the seventeenth century. During Great Britain's doomed experiment with Republicanism things reached an apotheosis and the monarchy was restored in 1660 to general rejoicing. Those who left Leiden - and then Plymouth, in 1620 in first Speedwell and later Mayflower did not describe themselves as Puritans but "Saints". They left Leiden in order to found a colony in the New World where they could impose their beliefs on everyone in the community (Holland being far too liberal for them). Some of these beliefs can be discerned in attitudes that are still influential in North America today. I pass no direct judgement on these. I simply do not believe they are attitudes that in general further the growth of the human spirit.

seekerazseekerazover 9 years ago
Apparently non-Puritanical Brits....

Don't go in for relationship but for cohabitation. Why marry at all?

"As for Steve (not his real name, obviously). He remains blissfully unaware and I don't intend to tell him. "

If you have some sort of agreement that sex outside of the relationship is acceptable, no worries. But if Steve is "blissfully unaware" that is reprehensible, not because of the sex itself but because of the deception. Perhaps yours is a marriage of convenience and not of commitment. You might want to let "Steve" know about it however. He needs to know that you are not to be trusted.

BTW you guys sent your Puritans across the pond but you created them. You also gave us rapacious capitalism and environmental destruction. Lying, deceit, and betrayal are not enlightened thinking, they are character flaws and they are done by choice.

You are the guardian of yourself and your standards and they are not mine to judge but I do feel sorry for "Steve"

badidea211badidea211over 9 years agoAuthor
Thanks

Thank you for all the encouragement. This was my first effort and I held back on uploading it but decided to go ahead after a few drinks on Saturday night. It's the truest of my stories, some of which appear on here and most of which appear elsewhere. My pseudonym here, Badidea, was inspired by what my publisher told me when I let her know I'd been thinking of doing some writing for Literotica. The 211 is an in-joke. The story is based on truth and is about something that happened last autumn. The film wasn't La Choix, but most of the rest was pretty much accurate. It's touching to see the encouragement from some of you. I sponsor writers myself through a writing group in London so I do know that this sort of encouragement has a genuinely positive effect. Please do keep it up, and don't feed the trolls. None of us pay them any attention.

I am well aware of Anna Karenina, but she was not remotely an influence (although perhaps Emma Bovary was - in a small way if you're desperate to find a progeny in nineteenth century European literature). It's also wonderful to find so many of you concerned for my safety. I feel like I have an anonymous army of older brothers all reaching out to me with earnest advice! However, I really am a big enough girl to look after myself. I do appreciate the risks you're warning me about though.

This happened about two months ago. The stranger wasn't actually completely unknown to me. Our art house club cinema is members-only and I'd seen him before, and I sort of know his wife through a friend of a friend. Many of the most shocked voices here appear to be from Americans. It's odd that such a level of Puritanism still informs the American pov - especially when one thinks about the other brilliant young writers here who are obviously from the USA and who are breaking down barriers left, right and centre.

As for Steve (not his real name, obviously). He remains blissfully unaware and I don't intend to tell him. I don't think I'd go all the way with a stranger, but I don't suppose any of us really knows what we are capable of.

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago
3, 3, 1

For story idea and plot I give a 3. Woman allows stranger to sex her up, because? Oh, he's kind of handsome, and well dressed, and persistent, and, well, apparently she wanted some strange sex. Kind of simple and base; not interesting nor dramatic.

For plot execution and character development I give a 3. Stranger grabs her knee in a dark theater and she does not immediately tell husband and management? Theater is dark, and she can't really see the stranger, but yet she can tell he is handsome and well dressed? She has no idea who stranger is, what stranger is, or where his fingers have been, but yet she welcomes his attention and his fingers into her body? Female character's actions and choices are so stupid and ignorant that it distracts the reader from the plot, if there was one. And what was the purpose of the husband's presence? More believable if she is alone or with girl friends. Instead of increasing tension and drama, you just make husband appear numb and bland. If watching erotica on screen husband's hands should be all over his wife, and whispering in her ear. Maybe you could have had husband and stranger share? Now that would be hot. Stupid, but hot. Unexplained and unbelievable characters are a distraction for thinking readers. And unthinking readers just want stroke material and could not care less about your writing quality.

For the story's contribution to enhancing or elevating the genre of exotic literature I give a 1. If you were a more experienced writer I would give everything a 1. But you have desire and some talent and that deserves encouragement and patience. But a story describing the beginning steps of a woman's decent into adultery and whoredom is just depressing. She exhibits only excitement and a desire for more. Read Tolstoy's Anna Karenina for a much better telling of a very similar woman and plot. And yes, from me Tolstoy gets the same scores I give you, so remember that before you take these rating too much to heart. And keep writing. P.S. I won't spoil Tolstoy's story by giving away the fate of the whore, but your female character will end up the same, either physically or emotionally.

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