We are totally a bunch of daredevils
It was a rarity: an old movie theater that still showed dirty movies.
And it was my idea to take Paul along.
He was reluctant at first.
I guess he didn’t want to show me he was into the idea of watching other people have sex on screen.
Even though, like most men, I knew he masturbated to porn on the internet.
But I told him it would be a real turn-on for me; that I was curious to see what it must’ve been like back in the day, before sex was so ubiquitous online.
While harboring another secret hope of how the evening might unfold.
To that end, I put on a cute little summer dress that clung to my lithe frame and accentuated my modest hips and boobs — especially as it was one of those sultry nights with the promise of a storm.
I also neglected to wear any underwear.
I’m not sure that Paul really noticed at first, even when — arriving at the theater and in the wake of distant thunder — my nipples were starting to bud against the thin material in anticipation. The guy in the ticket booth couldn’t take his eyes off my tits though, pursing his lips as Paul paid, which only served to make me hornier.
Then we bought some popcorn and headed into the dark.
The movie had already started by the time we settled into our seats at the back of the theater.
The flickering gloom was filled with loud sighs and moans and yelps.
The movie was more modern than I expected (I supposed that even old porno theaters had been dragged into the 21st century), and featured a beautiful young actress having her ample tits sucked by a powerful-looking stud.
I ran my tongue over my lips and placed my hands on my knees, excited to see just how explicit the unfolding action was.
Then I cast my eyes around, finding that there were only two other patrons seated in the darkness — both men, as far as I could tell.
I wondered if they were already getting hard, and whether either of them was playing with themselves. The official line from the theater was public masturbation risked immediate expulsion (or even a criminal charge), but why anyone would come to a place like this other than to choke their cock was beyond me. It certainly wasn’t for the intricate plot or Oscar-worthy acting, that was for sure.
Still, the girl looked very convincingly aroused, her nipples erect, her mouth parted in pleasure as she began to rub at the bulge trapped in her co-star’s pants.
And thinking of bulges, my attention drifted back to Paul.
He had his eyes firmly fixed on the screen already, while he’d strategically placed the box of popcorn on his crotch.
Not that he was actually eating any.
Did that mean he was getting turned-on too?
So far, in our fledgling relationship, I’d not had a chance to test his boundaries.
He still had little idea of what a freak his pretty, innocent-looking girlfriend really was.
I certainly wasn’t always the polite, respectful young woman that he’d introduced to his parents.
But perhaps he was beginning to realize there was an edge to me that he hadn’t reckoned on before, as I glanced back to the screen and saw the girl in the movie was now unzipping her partner’s pants and wrestling free his big cock, already fully erect.
Paul’s was about the same size, I estimated. Perhaps even bigger.
He knew how to use it, too.
Yet, that had been in the privacy of our own home.
Not out here in public.
And with my eyes still focused on the screen — watching as the girl in the movie expertly licked the tip of the cock in her delicate hands, then slowly dragged it between her lips — I reached over the arm of my seat and snagged the popcorn box.
I pulled it free of Paul’s grip and scooped up a handful of popcorn, shoveling it into my mouth.
Then I placed the box onto the seat next to me, and dropped my hand onto Paul’s thigh.
He flinched a little; his leg tightening, his eyes suddenly on my hand as my fingers slowly crept up toward his zipper where — just as I’d predicted — I located a burgeoning bulge.
“Oh my, Paul,” I whispered out of the side of my mouth. “Is the movie giving you a boner?”
My fingers immediately began to explore the swelling in Paul’s pants, and he grimaced.
“Whoa…” he murmured. “Maybe…maybe we should wait until later…”
“Why?” I sighed, and began to rub at the lump more vigorously.
Paul winced, and lifted his attention back to the screen. Now the actress was sucking fiercely on that broad, hard cock, hands braced against the muscled thighs of her partner as he clasped the back of her head and rocked his hips.
Strings of spit dangled from her chin. She narrowed her eyes as she was face-fucked.
“She looks like she’s enjoying that, doesn’t she?” I murmured, as Paul gripped the arms of his chair. His dick was straining against his pants now. I looked down and reached my other hand over to snag his zip.
“What are you doing?” he hissed.
“Come on, baby. You need to be taken care of…”
And despite Paul’s look of nervousness, I began to pull his zip down.
Not that anyone was aware of what was going on at the back of the theater. The two other patrons were too entranced by the girl as she continued to suck cock, taking it down her throat as she offered loud choking noises.
I turned back to Paul who had made no effort to stop me. Instead, he said, “You know, we could get thrown out for this…”
Or worse, I thought, but I didn’t relent, undoing Paul’s button, unfolding his pants, and biting my lip when I saw just how hard he had become, his cock laboring against his white cotton underwear.
“Poor baby…” I whispered as I dug my hand against his briefs, giving his balls a soft squeeze, before rubbing his length with a few measured strokes, feeling him twitch under my palm.
Paul pressed his lips together, and I traced the blunt shape of his glans with my fingers, before hooking my thumbs into his waistband and slowly easing down his briefs.
Paul’s rigid hunk of prime flesh vibrated as I wrestled his underwear under his nicely shaved balls.
I inhaled with pleasure. Over the last week, I’d kept Paul at bay, feigning tiredness (which had made him suspicious as I never turned down sex), but it would be worth it, I knew.
All that cum, stored up, I thought, waiting to be unleashed.
I wetted my lips with my tongue, before lowering the arm of the chair and sidling up for a kiss while I wrapped my fingers around Paul’s girth, gently jerking it.
“We really shouldn’t,” Paul murmured against my mouth.
“I know,” I breathed back. “We’re being very naughty.”
Although, we weren’t the only ones, as the grunts and sighs from the movie echoed around us, the actress on screen having been dragged to her feet, bent over, and her pussy sucked on as she clasped the back of a chair.
I continued to pump Paul’s dick, our tongues fluttering against each other.
In turn, Paul finally responded by groping for one of my breasts, his cock spasming when it became obvious to him that I wasn’t wearing a bra.
Yep, I thought, I’ve planned this all along, sweetie.
And after squeezing Paul’s cock so that he let out a small grunt of pleasure, I withdrew my tongue from his mouth, slumped onto my side and put my lips on his glans.
Paul gave a rasp as he creaked back in his velvet seat, his hand on my back, my mouth sliding onto his dick.
“Christ…” he whispered, as I took him deeper, feeding on him hungrily, opening my throat to engulf his length almost entirely, my fingers searching for his balls.
Then I began to go to work: anchoring his shaft as I sucked, sliding my other hand onto his toned stomach, making soft murmuring sounds with every stroke.
He was incredibly hard.
Maybe it was the danger of the situation that was getting him so excited, or the antics in the movie which — as I looked out the corner of my eye — I saw had progressed to the promise of penetration, the male porn star teasing his actress with sharp slaps of his cock on her bare ass.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Paul told me as I sucked him to the root, gagging slightly as his dick touched my throat, then pulling him free, saliva running down his shaft.
“You like that, baby?” I gasped.
I was almost as wet as his cock now; my pussy yearning to be explored, slippery with moisture.
“You know I do,” Paul answered, then he put his hand on the back of my head and he was pushing me down to take him in my mouth again. “Don’t stop.”
I didn’t. I sucked him harder: slurping and moaning and licking and slobbering, accompanied by the soft slaps of flesh against flesh from the movie; the demands to go harder and deeper; the begging for an orgasm.
It was inspiring.
It made my pussy quiver.
As I dragged Paul free from my lips again, I turned my head to watch the fucking unfold, that big, rigid cock plying open that taut, pink cunt; buttocks clenching; tits trembling.
Until I knew what I wanted to do next.
I pulled myself off Paul’s lap.
The sigh of his disappointment was audible, even over the stereo cries and moans around the theater. Maybe Paul thought this was just a prelude to the main event later in the evening.
But as I climbed onto my feet, and swung myself around to face him, Paul began to realize I was only just beginning.
“Shit…” He looked up at me, eyes gleaming as I straddled his lap, facing him, lacing my fingers around his neck. I scooched up toward him until my knees were at his hips, and adjusted my dress, teasing the hem to reach down through my bush and underneath to find Paul’s cock.
Paul put his hands on my waist. When my labia brushed against his glans, his expression was a picture.
“Damn babe…You’re…You’re not wearing any…”
I smiled.
Then I lowered myself onto him.
My pussy had always needed a little gentle coaxing to accommodate Paul.
He was an admirable size, big enough to stretch me out delightfully, and it took the flexing of my hips, accompanied by slow, inch-by-inch lowering, to swallow his straining glans, then slide onto the rest of his spasming shaft.
Paul’s face — caught in the silvery light of the screen — creased into an almost pained frown.
But I knew there was pleasure behind it, as my pussy expanded to take him, and soon I was riding him, forcing him into me, taking him as far as his cock could explore.
“Oh fuck…”
Now it was my turn to experience that pang of exquisite pleasure; that tightening deep inside me that alluded to the tantalizing possibility of a climax.
Soon I was jamming myself onto him, forcing that pliant rigidity into my sucking pussy, angling him against that elusive region that I knew would make me cum.
“Oh baby, that’s nice…” I croaked, as our bodies heaved against each other.
Paul plucked at the edge of my dress that was almost falling off me anyway, the straps having slithered from my shoulders.
He exposed my tits. He took one in his mouth.
I stifled a cry. I was close now — racing toward my orgasm.
But not yet. Not quite, as behind me I heard the cries of the actress in the movie and the concussive slaps of flesh.
“What’s he doing to her?” I found myself asking breathlessly. “How’s he fucking her?”
Paul took my nipple from his mouth. “Against the wall…Facing her…I…I think he might cum soon…”
“Me too,” I wheezed. “You’re making me cum…”
Paul grimaced. A sign that he was on the brink as well.
But even as I reached the threshold, there was a sudden flicker around us, and the cries, the moans, the shouts from the movie abruptly stopped.
It took a second for me to comprehend what was going on.
I was dazed by the unfurling of my orgasm — Paul’s cock was so big and hard, my pussy was so wet and tight.
But then I understood that the power had gone out — most probably a result of the storm — and it became apparent that my sighs and moans were now the principal soundtrack in the red-tinged gloom, highlighted by the exit signs.
Not that I could stop.
Not that I even wanted to.
Instead, I ground on Paul’s cock harder, bringing me to my climax with a cry of pleasure, slathering his cock and balls with my juices as I careened over the brink.
“Oh baby, I’m cumming on your cock!” was my raw throaty wail, knowing that he was also convulsing inside me; that familiar hardening soon to give way to his own, powerful release.
“Shit, honey,” Paul growled.
“Cum for me, baby,” I demanded.
Only to realize, as I felt Paul’s first telling twitch, that we weren’t alone.
As we jostled against each other, my tits starting with each thrust, my sweaty hair screening my face, I became aware of two figures soaking into the scarlet light beside us.
I almost lost my rhythm…
Almost…
Even when I understood it was the other two patrons, their hard cocks in their hands, their faces tight with lust, having been denied the finale to the movie.
This must’ve been the ultimate consolation prize.
A real-life porno unfolding before their eyes.
And as Paul also saw what was going on, I could feel his body stiffening, his instinct to throw me off palpable, until I panted, “No! Keep going, baby…Keep fucking me…”
“What?!”
“Cum for me. Cum in me.” And I opened my mouth; I extended my tongue, turning my head.
Offering myself to the strangers.
If Paul didn’t know what a freak I was before, he did so now, as the first shadowy figure grabbed me by the hair, angled his cock at my face, and released a hot spurt of cum that poured over the bridge of my nose and down my cheek.
I half-expected Paul to cry out in disgust.
To pull himself free and toss me to the ground.
I wouldn’t have blamed him.
I even half-expected it.
But instead, he simply cursed, and — after a faltering start — kept on pumping, his cock quickly hardening again as I gulped down the first stranger’s semen, feeling my pussy tighten again for another climax, gawping for another load.
I was duly rewarded.
More cum was deposited onto my tongue: a fat, creamy, surging cascade that welled over my lips, just as Paul drained himself into me.
I came in the midst of so much debauchery too.
As warm cum dripped off my chin and ran down my throat, and leaked out of my pussy as Paul emptied his balls.
My orgasm shook me from pussy to every extremity.
And I was gasping when Paul eventually slid free, hot with sweat, breathing hard, and lifted me back onto my seat.
The strangers quickly left, hustling out of the nearest exits.
While I lounged and panted, my dress clinging around my waist, semen on my lips, running down my legs, lacing my tits.
Paul looked down at me, his cock in his hand, with a peculiar expression of new-found admiration.
He seemed to be thinking: If my girlfriend was capable of that…what else would she be up for?
It made me smile, as I said, “See? I told you the movie was going to be good.”
To which Paul replied, “Best ending ever.”
And both of us grinned as we made ready to leave, certain that we would come back again.
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We are totally a bunch of daredevils
