"Thanks for coming to the movies with me, babe," you say, sliding into the seat beside me. We like this theater because it has the seats with the raising arms, that allow us to cuddle properly. You slip your arm around mine and sigh contentedly, reaching for the popcorn on my lap and tossing a piece in your mouth.
"No problem, doll," I smile, "Anything for you."
"Ooooh," your voice drops to a husky whisper. "I like that." You raise up a bit to nuzzle my ear. "Say that again."
I can't resist that voice, and I turn to smile at you. "Anything, baby," I whisper, kissing you softly, "Anything I can do." Another brush of my lips against your own. "Anything for you. You want to sit towards the back, we sit towards the back. You want Raisinettes, you get them. What else can I do for you, hmmmm?"
"Mmmmm," you grin, turning back to the screen. "Let me think about that." You hug my arm tighter, taking a bit more popcorn as the trailers come up. ("Green Lantern, FUCK YES," I cheer softly. You roll your eyes.)
As the movie progresses, the charms of Orlando Bloom ("Legolas," you correct me) are, in my view, not enough to save the formulaic rom-com script, though being next to you is always nice. Your fingers are tracing up and down my arm, the light touches of your fingernails sending pleasant little jolts to the pleasure centers of my brain. My own fingers stroke your thigh left bare by the shorts you're wearing. Not long after Boy Loses Girl you excuse yourself, slipping away to the restroom, and I wonder if the fifteen or so other patrons are as disillusioned with the flick as I am, though I'll hold my tongue for your sake. Darlin' wants movie night, darlin' gets movie night.
A few minutes later, as Boy Bitches To Best Friend About Losing Girl, you slither back into your seat and cozy back up to me. "Honey, would you put these in your pocket for me?" You take my hand and press a soft pile into it. Confused, I look down at the fabric in my hands when I realize: it's your panties and bra. I look over at you and there is a cat-ate-the-canary smile on your pretty face that makes me melt. I dutifully stuff the underwear in my pocket, eying your shirt which is partially unbuttoned, and the unrestrained titflesh underneath. I glance around us, but we have the row to ourselves, and are a few rows away from the nearest other couple.
You're again holding my arm tightly, but it's between your legs, your body pressed against me, unmistakably horny. Your nails are scratching at me a little harder now and I can't take my eyes off your face as you stare me in the eye and whisper softly, "Let's be BAD." Confident of my response to this you unhurriedly unbutton my pants, nuzzling your face into my neck. I have to adjust my hips a bit to allow you access to my hardening cock, which you draw out into the open without care. Tapping gently along its length you finally wrap both hands around it, giving me little pulsing squeezes as you purr softly.