Relaxing at the Cinema

At last. Home. Relaxed. Comfortable.

After a few long years sheltering in safe harbor in Asia during the pandemic, she had returned to her familiar town in Canada where she really belonged. Although Asia held the heartstrings of family and retained the memories of childhood, most of her adult life had been spent in this town. She slunk back in her seat, raised the footrest and pondered how comfortable she felt.

She'd landed a new apartment, arranged the furniture, stocked the fridge and settled in. She'd reseeded herself in this town, roots were taking hold and next it would be time to sprout new growth. Over the past month she'd caught up with old friends, reveled in parties with her old contacts, been out to dinner at some new places and revisited her old favorites. The town was just as she remembered it. She understood the people. She was attuned with the streets. She felt the heartbeat of the suburbs through her body. The town just resonated with her being and the city itself directed her to the right place at the right time to meet the right people.

But now it was time for some self care and relaxation after a busy week. She'd walked down to the local cinema with no idea of the current suite of films or times. Looking to the adverts she noted there were no blockbusters on offer, but an obscure Victorian period drama caught her eye. "Ticket for one" she requested, and meandered past the candy bar and into the theatre with ticket in hand. It was a genre which would not overstimulate the senses. Although sometimes there was some pretty weird shit in period dramas. The modern world was full of perversions of all natures, but she understood it was nothing new. Even back in that era there was plenty of deviancy behind closed doors. She'd enjoyed reading novels which delved into the depravities of Victorian life, and loved to thumb through the erotic scenes, that she'd play out in her mind lying alone in her bed at night.

Looking around the theatre she discovered that she was the only patron for the film. Lights dimmed and banal advertisements blared. With time she sunk deeper and deeper into the plush cinema chair, as her mind and body relaxed.

She heard stumbling footsteps and suppressed giggles. Three figures made their way down the aisle in faltering form. A male vanguard led the trio, holding hands with a female who in turn held the hand of a trailing woman. In the dim light they clumsily negotiated the shallow stairs, squealing with every misstep along the way. And then they stopped. She couldn't believe it. For fucks sake. It was an entirely empty cinema and he'd selected her row. The trio made their way along the row of seats, grasping at seat backs and groping at the armrests. And finally came to sit with one empty chair from her. "Sorry" he offered disingenuously and immediately turned to whisper with his companions.

He was wearing a loose singlet and shorts while the women wore alluring body-hugging dresses and heels. She pondered how often that pattern was repeated in this town. Women making the most of their appearances while the guys resisted any efforts to groom. Oh well. On this occasion she could not really take the high ground. She enjoyed wearing informal clothes and this time she'd simply worn a towelling skirt, loose underwear, a tee and slides to the cinema. She glanced across again, and took note of the stranger's body. Through the loose garment she could see three distinct ribs of his torso. A nice sign, she thought. That style of body usually goes with a flat tummy, defined abs and bold pecs. He was adorned with a curly mop of sandy hair and sported stubble. She couldn't get a good look at his face but she guessed late twenties, and maybe the women a little younger.

The conversation of the trio soured a little and transitioned to more urgent tones. Hand gestures. Heads tipping back betraying a failed negotiation. She couldn't hear the words, but it sounded like a resolution was achieved. The two women stood, smiled and waved in an amicable but contrived way and made their way out of the cinema. Just in time for the lights to cut and the opening credits.

Her mind turned inward and she realized that the interactions of the trio had raised her anxieties and spoiled her relaxed state. But now that the movie had started, she immersed herself in the story and the outside world faded.

The story followed a trajectory of two families in the British countryside. The plot revolved around family conflict based on expectations laden on children. She reflected that this theme will always remain relevant across time and cultures. The musical score was gentle, the language was reserved and eventually she fell into a light sleep.

Her eyes and ears opened to the sound of violent thumping. At last, the film had arrived at some action. The characters were fucking vigorously against a wall in an English mansion. He was heaving. She was whimpering. She looked across to the stranger. His eyes were fixed on the screen. Could it be? She looked down and saw his clenched fist slowing working its way back and forth along the length of his engorged cock. She was taken aback but suppressed a gasp. He continued watching the screen though she sensed that he had detected her awakening. The banging continued. The stroking continued. She watched intently at his muscular arm as it worked its slow action on his cock. Eventually the scenes changed, and he released his member. In another surprise, he placed his hand on the center of the seat separating the two of them. His head did not move.

Surely this was an offer, she inferred. She recalled times like this in the past when an opportunity presented itself, demanding a bold and instant decision. She'd held back on most occasions; the natural shyness of her personality winning the battle. And afterwards she would always wonder what golden moments she'd missed. Not this time. No regrets. Back in town to make the most of life. She extended her arm and gently placed her hand on top of his. He turned towards her and although light was low she could discern his gaze directed deep into her eyes.

She lifted her hand from his, revolved at the wrist and placed it upturned, resting on the seat beside his. Her cupped hand adopted the universal symbol of gratitude and appreciation: making a simultaneous offer and request. His hand slipped into hers and she squeezed it, feeling a tingle pass through all of her body as the connection was made. It was ironic, she thought, that hands being so utilitarian can express such intimacy in such a simple way.

She drew his hand toward her as she lay back into her recliner. His body turned toward her and she could appreciate his broad shoulders and refined physique. He lifted the two intervening armrests and slid his body into the adjacent seat, facing her from the side. In a single swift action, his far arm circled across and reached immediately under her skirt. She felt the coarse hand slide along her thigh and made no protest as the fingers breached the leg of her underpants. He held her entire crotch in his strong hand and in one deft stroke, she felt a middle finger slide into her ass. She gasped in shock. It was not unusual for a date to try to penetrate her early in the encounter. But usually she required some time and familiarity before the act. But this was like magic. Her ass encountered no discomfort as the tip of his finger passed into the cavity, without foreplay or any apparent lubrication. But it did not penetrate deeply and simply remained with only a fingertip inside the entrance. A moan escaped. She knew that lovers always reacted to her enticing moans, and she could usually detect a cock growing harder after each involuntary groan of gratification. She squeezed her ass tight around his finger, sending a signal of approval to him and inviting the intimacy to continue.

She sensed his thumb on the same hand as it reached high and pressed against her naval jewellery. The thumb glided down her pubis and as it travelled she felt a shiver of thrills leak over her body and involuntarily her ass closed tight around his finger again. His thumb slowly worked its way down and gently glanced against her pussy piercing. He stroked one side of her clit, lifted and stroked down the other side. And repeated. She felt the blood streaming into her loins and her entire sex growing plump. She could feel her clit expand and rise, straining against the flesh that held it to her pussy lips. She felt each brush on the piercing as it teased her button, growing hard, sensitive and demanding attention. And then he switched to rolling circles around her clit with his thumb.

Her breathing deepened, growing heavier, stronger, slower with a raspy overtone. She glanced to his torso and saw his cock rising high out of his shorts, hard and solid. A faint beam of light from the cinema screen caught the head of his cock and she could make out a pearl of precum perching delicately on the tip. She wondered how it would taste. The stranger had a slight fragrance of a nondescript subtle cologne but she could not detect the scent of his body or breath.

As she stared, fixated at his beautiful member, she reached to his other hand and drew it toward her face, a finger to proxy his cock. She closed her eyes as she felt the palm rest against her jawline and his fingers caress the delicate skin of her cheek. Panting slightly, her lips parted and she felt the thumb brush her lips. Her mouth opened, she embraced his advance and the tip of his digit entered her mouth. With eyes closed she began slowly and gently, teasing his thumb, just as if it was that gorgeous cock.

She knew that she could drive a man crazy with her slimy tongue rasping on that magic triangle underside the glans, and she intimated the same on the stranger's thumb. In perfect synchrony the strange stroked and circled her clit, while she stroked and circled his thumb with her tongue. Time stopped. The film faded to the distance. The rhythm of their teasing became the center of her universe. Stroke, stroke, stroke, circle, and then sealing her lips a luscious suck. And over. And over again. She peeked through closed lids to gauge his reaction and it was satisfying to see his groin making tiny thrusts into thin air as she felt his sexual energy growing.

With two hands, she reached out to his arm which vanished inside her skirt. Her hands wrapped around his muscular forearm as he worked her clit. She could feel the individual muscle bundles in his forearm. And when she clenched tighter she could feel the tendons working back and forth as his fingers worked their magic on her sex. She grasped the forearm and with both hands she slid her grip up and down the limb, like a giant dildo. She pulled the hand harder toward her, wanting that crushing, grinding pressure on her pussy. Back and forth. Back and forth. She could feel the force on her cunt and she felt the drool spilling from her mouth.

His thumb left the warmth of her mouth and his hand drifted down her face, fingers gently raking the skin. The path traversed her neck, her sternum and his hand paused, cupped on her breast. More tender squeezing on erogenous nipples and she was seriously falling into whole-of-body ecstasy. He thumbed her hardened nipple through the worn tee shirt fabric and he expressed a satisfying squeeze of the entire breast in his strong hand. Not too small, not too large -- she cupped her other breast with her own hand, reveling in the pleasure of her own body. His fingers continued the journey and settled on her hip. Again another zone of the body where she imbibed pleasure from a man's firm touch. And she recalled the occasions dancing at clubs in this town when she'd feel a hand on the hip and a hard and flattering erection pressed up against her body.

Who was this guy, she wondered. She'd spent long enough in the town to know who was who. Directly or through friends. And she'd kept in touch with contacts while she'd been away. If he'd been connected with her friendship circles, even remotely, she would have known. And with these exceptional teasing skills, the chat groups amongst her girlfriends would have passed the word if anyone had managed to bed him. Maybe he was new to town. Maybe it was someone she'd overlooked in the past. Maybe this wasn't even real and she was only dreaming. Maybe it was too good to be true. And who were his women companions? A partner and friend? Perhaps. Sisters? Unlikely. A date? Who knows? Despite her refined intuition, she was only guessing.

He delivered laser guided accuracy on her clit. And it perfectly satisfied the urge of surface stimulation of her body. But a deeper desire emerged. As she swayed her hips and pressed her pussy against his thumb, she needed more. She felt a vast emptiness arriving from deep within her body. She felt the wetness in her pussy welling, like a salivating Pavlov dog, triggered by the kneading on her pussy and his hands on her body. She squirmed and felt the swollen slippery walls rubbing against each other. And visualized the juice that she knew was beginning to leak from her pussy and soak her underpants. The emptiness pervaded her whole body but burned like a fire in her belly. She needed to be filled. Her pussy craved it. It was a void that needed something, anything to satisfy the urge of pressure deep inside her. She treasured the finger in her ass. She pressed against the grip on her hip. She squirmed against the thumb on her clit. Her body was growing impatient for the final piece to the puzzle.

But she would make her body wait. She knew that if she could hold out through another round of their interlude, then the final build and orgasm would be worth the sacrifice. So she reached to his curly hair and clasped it with both hands. There was nothing gentle now. It was an aggressive grip, as she might restrain an attacker. But instead it was she in charge. She slumped even deeper in the seat, spread her legs and pulled his face onto her desperate cunt.

He did not even remove the underwear. His face bristled against her soft thighs and she felt his tongue, mouth, lips, something part her panties to the side and his tongue darted around her slimy labia. He maintained one finger in her ass. But now another finger lay waiting at the entrance to her pussy. And she couldn't stand the suspense. She needed it inside. His tongue circled the clit, and she mused about that magical feeling of a tongue on her pussy. What made it so much more intense than a finger, she wondered. Was it the proximity of his head and the notion of fucking his face? Or was the tongue truly more dexterous? His teeth captured her pussy piercing from time to time and he tugged at the metal, again elevating the sensitivity of her clit, ready for the next pass of his tongue. And now his finger entered her pussy and finally she felt the relief that came with physical completeness. Once inserted deep within her cunt, his digit began to move. His finger curled and pressed the g-spot. His finger slid gently in and out against the sensitive opening of her ass. His tongue rolled around the piercing and the clit. And his nose pressed down on her mound. A hand on her hip held her body to the chair, but she could not help rocking and grinding. And now a deep involuntary guttural moan emerged.

When the groaning kicked in, she knew that the most intense stage of this interlude had commenced. In all of her sexual encounters she had long recognized that her body proceeded through four stages. On the best nights, the most successful lovers could prolong each stage and even track back and forth across the stages.

The first was at point of attraction. The initial flurry with rising heartrate and a blush. The feeling of anticipation, anxiety or trepidation of what was to come. That feeling of butterflies and a tingle on the skin. The enhanced sensitivity to touch and the need to drink in the sight of her lover.

The second stage was the burning desire of her clit to be touched and kneaded, building to rubbing and grinding.

The third stage emerged from deep within being a proprioceptive longing to be filled. To feel the cock in her pussy, pushing deep within her, squeezing her pussy walls on his cock and feeling her entrance straining at his girth.

And the final stage was the buildup to the final climactic release. A growing sneeze. The urgency to pee. A building storm. All of these analogies were true. But still it was a sensation that was impossible to put into words. She was all too familiar with the feeling of an orgasm as it grew within her body. Lord knows, in the years of the pandemic she had to manage her own needs and she'd experienced a building orgasm at her own hands countless times. But then the arrival of the orgasm, the bursting of the dam was something else altogether. It was a gift from Heaven. It would arrive from nowhere but everywhere. Expected but a surprise. And her cunt would explode with pleasure, waves rippling over her entire body, with aftershocks shaking her over and over again. On the very best of nights, those convulsions would yield muscular waves in her groin that would squirt ejaculate from her pussy.

She looked to the stranger then closed her eyes as she felt electricity sparking over her body. The timing of an orgasm was never predictable when someone else was in charge. But now it was coming. Her head rolled backward, hanging upside down over the back of the seat, and she opened her eyes. The silhouettes of two distant figures came into focus. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! For a moment she contemplated ignoring them. But who knows what the consequences. For everyone. She pushed the strangers head away and straightened down her skirt. The two women continued their flailing steps down the cinema stairs, conversing loudly but nothing intelligible. She pointed rearward and hissed, "Your friends". The stranger straightened, folded his beautiful hard cock back into his shorts with effort. And casually slid his butt across one place to his original seat.

Once more, whispering and low tones between the stranger and his companions. The women momentarily glanced over his shoulder at her and rejoined the conversation. Together they stood. And in no time they had made their way out of the cinema. No looking back.

It was over. She couldn't justifiably call it abandonment. Although they'd made a connection, it was only fleeting. Her finger reached under her skirt and she felt the twitching sensitivity of her pussy. Like a loaded weapon, itching for the trigger to be pulled. But not here, not now. She fixed her underwear and sighed. Horny but unsatisfied. Empty. Unfulfilled. Lacking resolution and closure. "Aargh!", she emitted a guttural sigh of disappointment. Tonight. Tonight she would go on the hunt. She stood, fixed her skirt and exited the cinema into the afternoon sunlight ready to take on the town.