It had been planned for a week. A super cool film, late night viewing, and the back seat couch at the art-house independent cinema that would serve cocktails to you while the film played. What more could a girl want? Running through my mind were a host of add on’s to that scenario. You know the type you fantasise about but won’t really do because of the fear of getting caught or offending someone…
So when he said a few days later,
“You know I want you with no knickers on when we watch the film.”
I was surprised, pleased, and not that surprised, because we’d fantasised, he’d made me cum as he explored my initial whispers weeks before. And this, well this is naughty but secret, kinky but private, and I’ve been out with no knickers on before. So I planned my skirt, one where if I stepped out of the car inelegantly someone might suspect but not really know, but he’d know. After-all I’m not really a slut. It’s just whispers.
So when he said the next day,
“You know I want you with your butt plug in when we watch the film.”
I was surprised, pleased, and well, yes, surprised. Recall how a plug extends you, deep breathing forcing yourself to relax, and that final push wondering if it’s ever going to go in. And then your mind focuses and hazes over. That feeling in public, yes, but our secret, kinky but still private, as his hand pushes it deeper through the skirt, and I squirm, holding onto him to focus, but no one will really see. After all I’m not *really* an exhibitionist.
We sit in the cab, my skirt already needing to go to the dry cleaners. Thanking the driver, I slip out of the cab wondering if he knows. We get to the cinema, order our drinks, stand, chat, his arm around my waist, we talk, drink, and then go into the auditorium. Amazed I can hold a conversation, I’m thinking, yes I will enjoy this tease, as I imagine his hand on my thigh as I take my coat off. As I imagine my hand on his hardening cock and the fucking when we get home.
Someone sits in the row in front of us, there’s a gap between our sofa and the regular seats, it’s not like the back row, legs all bunched up, you can properly relax. But that couple, with her red hair and 1950s hairband, they might notice… So I sit upright, and sigh. Not tonight. But I can sense his desire, so I know later, later will be amazing, we’ll fuck with the characters of the film on our lips.
But then, within minutes of the film starting, his hands on my thigh, pressing them open, his fingers creeping upwards, as I ‘watch’ the film. He whispers,
I turn to look at him, his eyebrows raise, and my legs part; of course they do, it was inevitable. Scenes pass in the movie. I wriggle to give him better access. He runs a finger between my lips “Oh my!” He acts all surprised. “Aren’t you a wet little whore.” I blush, look down but then sheepishly back up at him, of course I fucking am!
I gulp, place one leg on the low wall between us and the row in front, desperately wanting his fingers deeper. And he stops.
Now I look up back at the film, and notice my predicament, I am exposed, completely. If anyone looks back, looks up, they’ll see me spread out, not in detail, it’s too dark but they’ll see. They’ll know, they’ll whisper to the person sat next to them, bite their lover’s ear and press their hands into their lover’s thighs. Nervously I wonder where the security camera is, will the man be watching us, wanking in his office?
His fingers return, I lean into him, as they explore, expose, spread. And I want, all I want, but I want it all. I’m begging now, almost biting into his shoulder to stop the squeals and moans… and I want someone to notice. I’m shocked at myself, but I do, I want someone to watch him make me lose control of my senses and for the lust to take over.
“Pleeeeease…,” I whisper….