Harry admitted to me he kind of got off on posing for the class. I'd noticed that summer he began spending more time working out at the Y. Of course I accused him of really going to the gym because he could ogle all those cute college girls in tight leotards. He admitted that was true but he'd also decided he wanted to feel better about the way he looked. I knew that if he was in better shape he'd be a better lover and he'd probably live longer. Sometimes when we talked about death—not often, Harry would smile at me and say his dream was to die in the midst of an orgasm with me.
Exercise, good for the soul and good for other activities. I mean let's face it, we'd already been unsuccessful in our attempts to have sex in some unusual positions, mainly because Harry wasn't as flexible as he used to be. Now I didn't care, you understand, if we didn't try every possible position anybody had ever thought up, but Harry insisted that he wanted to try lots before he shuffled off.
I was game, of course I was, but at the same time there were some things I just wasn't going to try. Bungee jumping in the nude while having sex, for example. Go ahead, have a ball, but not me. I'll just watch. Another thing I put the kibosh on was nude skydiving and sex. I have this mortal fear of heights. I don't even like flying commercially all that much. So when Harry's friend Leon (yes, THAT Leon) started in on how much he enjoyed jumping out of little airplanes one afternoon when we were all drinking too early and too much, I saw how Harry started to show some interest. Then Leon's woman friend mentioned what a rush it was when they did it together. Skydiving, she meant.
I have to digress here for a moment. Leon was married. He had a nice wife whom both Harry and I liked, but the thing about Leon was, he also had multiple women friends who hung around. Or he hung around with them. Nobody ever seemed to mind, or question it. Including Leon's wife, at least not to us. Okay, then this girl, that was the other thing. All of Leon's women friends seemed to be buxom and young—younger even than me.
So anyway, this chick starts grinning and explaining what a rush it was to be strapped together and thrown out of an airplane at five thousand feet in the air. "So you were on Leon's back?" I asked. The boys were in the house getting another pitcher of Sangrias and we were in the sun on the patio.
"Oh no, face to face. The instructor wasn't too happy about that, but Leon insisted and showed how he had modified the harness."
"And this was your second or third jump, right?" She nodded. "But I assume you had clothes on, right?"
"Yeah, but we managed anyway." She grinned even wider.
It wasn't hard to figure what managing she was referring to. And then she explained even more. "Leon got an instant boner, right out of the plane. He says its my girls." She patted her prominent breasts as if they were puppies. "They are nice sized, don't you think? We went out and Leon just stuck his nose in my cleavage and his boner in my pants. Bang. It was such a rush. I think I came more than once."
I decided not to ask how high they were off the ground at that point. Harry and Leon came back then with the pitcher. Leon's friend smiled widely at them and she didn't move her hand away from her 'girls,' I noticed. I also noticed that the boys took notice. Then she got even more aggressive, tweaking her nipples through her top. I thought Leon was starting to pant and Harry was only a little more discreet. I had to admit the girl had me in the upstairs department. But as I may have mentioned, I'm well proportioned and I've caused more than one undergraduate to spill his drink when I lean forward over the table while wearing in a low-cut blouse or sweater. But I told Harry, after Leon and his current friend took her girls away, that he could skydive with whom and in whatever dress or undress he cared to, I was not going to be a party to it.
I did ask him why he was so interested. After we kicked it around for a while, finally finishing 'way too many glasses of Sangria, what eventually came out was the exposure part of it, the risky behavior in public. Hmm. He hadn't been ready to jump me on the campus the night after we'd posed naked for the drawing class, but he'd thought about the attraction and it honed his interest which led to another adventure.
Since Harry had admitted that the idea of having sex with me where someone could see us was arousing in a way. So I set him up, without his knowing, of course. The next week we decided to go to a movie in a real honest-to-goodness movie theater. You know, with seats and a balcony and a big screen and popcorn. The movie theater in our town had become a racquetball club, but there was a theater in a town about ten miles away. Turned out to be a good thing. They showed B and C level features, an occasional soft-core skin flick and a lot of horror movies aimed at the pre-teen set.
So one evening we drove over and discovered they were showing a nineteen-forties era double feature. Black and White mystery stuff. The first feature was about half over when we got there. The place was half-empty and we found seats toward the back, just under the lip of the balcony. The short features between the main shows were both skin flicks. You've probably seen something like them. Buxom girls in bikini's romping around some beach and being ogled by a slime in the bushes who managed to mug the camera without anybody noticing. Then of course some of the girls somehow lose their tops. I was reminded of Leon's skyballing girlfriend. Eventually most of the girls are topless, the guy has been discovered and is now standing in a crowd of female flesh being told in no uncertain terms what a bad guy he is and how he'll be sorry. Naturally the actor playing the guy is being nudged on all sides by pneumatic female flesh and he gets to occasionally grab a breast as they slide by while leering at the camera.
The second feature was a dark, murky, convoluted detective story and I began to do what I'd brought Harry to the theater for, which wasn't to see these films. I had debated what to wear and settled for a front-buttoning short-sleeved shirt. My bra was strapless with a front clasp. That night I had on a light-weight summer skirt that almost made it to my ankles. Very demure, really, except I'd somehow managed to leave my panties on the bed at home. Tsk.
After the opening credits rolled, I put Harry's arm over my shoulder and moved closer so his hand was just resting on the upper curve of my breast. When I looked to my right, ahead about four rows and a few seats over, was a couple that clearly wasn't paying any attention to the action on the big screen. Harry had noticed them, I could tell, and when I slid my inside hand slowly up his thigh until it reached his crotch, he made no objection. In fact, it seemed to me he was getting a little excited. My fingers explored over the fly of his trousers and yes indeed, I got a reaction.
Harry glanced down at me and pressed down on my hand, a clear signal I could continue, if I so chose. I so chose. My fingers found the tang on his zipper and I slid it slowly down just far enough so I could insert my hand. It took a little manipulation but eventually I got his boxers out of the way enough so we had skin to skin contact. His cock was now just above half-hard, I judged.
He leaned over and kissed me. Our tongues gently explored familiar territory. While thusly engaged. Harry undid two buttons on my shirt. Since he was familiar with the bra I was wearing, I figured I'd just let him do his thing, but instead he gently pushed the material aside so my upper chest and cleavage was bared. I was a little surprised at my reaction. I'd been pawed and even partially disrobed in dark theaters in the past by some of my more aggressive dates, but it had been years and my body must have forgotten. Anyway, my nipples hardened and I developed a definite tingle in my lower body. It wasn't long before a certain dampness became apparent to me.
Harry leaned over again and ran his moist, warm, tongue into the valley between my breasts, and then slowly over each one, getting as close to the nipples as my bra would allow, which was pretty close. I gently squeezed his cock, now rising to its full state of hardness. But I didn't touch the tip. Not yet. I slouched down in my seat; this was a recently renovated hall and the seats were a little wider and better padded than some I'd been in. I propped my knees higher on the back of the vacant seat in front of me and let my skirt slide down my legs toward my middle. It didn't slide very far, just enough so Harry could see my knees. Since my knees weren't pressed together, I guess he figured I was giving him an invitation. He was correct.
Harry placed one warm palm on my left knee. He smirked at me in the gloom. We were paying at being teenagers on a movie date. With infinite deliberation he slid his hand along my thigh, pushing the fabric along with it. Minutes later my leg was bare, almost to my hip. Then Harry slid his fingers over my leg to reach the tender soft flesh of my inner thigh. He stopped there and we kissed, gently and softly and at length.
I was getting impatient, but Harry was apparently determined to drag the scene out. It took him a whole two minutes or so to inch his fingers high enough on my leg to discover I wasn't wearing any panties. When he got there, I could tell he was surprised and a little more excited. But he restrained himself admirably and for several minutes his fingers just caressed my thighs and then my outer labia. I was getting increasingly wet and I guess he decided he'd stalled long enough because the next thing I knew I got a jolt as one finger flicked across my clit, stimulating me even more. Hot dang!
Harry started a funky rhythm of flicking and manipulating my clit. We continued to kiss more and more passionately and my fingers tightened around his cock. I released his sweet member and pulled the zipper on his pants farther down to give myself more room to maneuver. That had the result of releasing his cock out of his fly. Now, anyone looking over the seats at us, would see Harry's cock with my fingers gently jacking him and would be able to figure out just where Harry's hand was and what he was doing to me.
We were still kissing and Harry gently slid one then two fingers into my pussy, still managing to flick my clit with his thumb. I was now rising to elevated levels of passion and I started to moan softly into my lover's mouth. My hips began to thrust against his hand and without thinking about it, my fingers tightened on Harry's rampant cock. I felt the fluids start to ooze down the head onto my hand.
