Meeting Caroline

It's a bit dated now. You can't smoke in cinemas any more. And 'X-rated' is British X-rated not American. In most stories now the couple would be fucking in public after the first paragraph - with a crowd watching, but I like the slow tentative will-she, won't-she seduction. If this turns on a 'Caroline' out there please send comments. I will reply. The first story I ever got paid for - £320 Sterling! Good to get paid for something you enjoy doing. Hope you enjoy it too.

Two women walked past him. A blonde and a brunette. Late twenties, early thirties. Summer dresses under light coats. High heels. Three rows in front of where he was sitting they turned into a row in the smoking section of the half-full cinema, pushed past a middle-aged couple in the end seats, took off their coats and sat down. He noticed there were two empty seats next to the blonde.

They settled themselves, chatting animatedly, heads together. The blonde reached inside her hand-bag, took out a packet of cigarettes and offered them to the brunette. There was a flicker of flame from a lighter as she lit both, then she raised her head and blew a long plume of blue smoke into the air. She turned her body away from the brunette, rested her arm on the back of the seat and looked back towards the door.

She was attractive. Big eyes and a wide mouth. Her fair hair was caught in a pony tail which flicked back over her shoulder as she turned. Her right hand was poised, lifted halfway to her mouth, long fingers lightly balancing the cigarette. She sensed him watching her and looked at him briefly, assessing him, then back towards the door. Was she waiting for someone or watching for some sign of activity that meant the film was due to start? She looked at him again, locking eyes with him for an instant and then turned back to face the screen. The lights began to dim. He felt lucky. She looked perfect. He was aware that his in his hands were sweating and he reached down to rub his palms on his trousers and then rose from his seat and headed for the gents. Quarry sighted.

His sense of excitement had already thickened his cock by the time he unbuttoned his fly and reached inside his trousers. He was not wearing underpants. He sent a golden arc of pee splashing clown the white porcelain. As he finished he stroked the length of his prick, enjoying its heavy fullness. Then he patted himself dry with a tissue and slipped his prick back inside his trousers. He headed back into the darkened cinema, now lit by the flickering light from the screen, sound bouncing from the walls.

The adverts were starting as he made his way down the aisle. He looked anxiously towards where the women were sitting. Had some latecomers taken the two empty seats? Then he relaxed. They were still free. He stopped at the end of the row, bent and murmured, ‘Excuse me’ to the couple in the end seats and pushed past them as they stood up. He put his hand on the seat next to her and bent again. She looked up at him, steady light blue eyes looking directly at him. The light from the screen lit up her face, and he saw that she recognised him as the man who had been watching her.

‘Free?’ he muttered, dry-throated, gesturing to the seat next to her. She nodded twice slowly and parted her lips. ‘Yes,’ she breathed. He noticed she was wearing a flowered print dress with big white buttons down the front. He took off his coat and sat down. On the screen the smiling faces of Chinese waiters and bar staff welcomed guests to a nearby restaurant. ‘After the show, why not visit the Shanghai Restaurant on Talbot Street, near this cinema?’ He breathed deeply and relaxed. Base established.

The adverts ended. He reached into the pocket of his coat and took out his cigarettes. He made a play of searching for his lighter in one after another of his pockets - coat pockets, trouser pockets, coat pockets again. Finally he turned to her. ‘Do you have a light?’ She reached down for her handbag opened it and took out her lighter.

He offered her a cigarette and she took one and then leaned back to include her friend in his offer. He nodded to the brunette, who smiled at him and then he leaned across the blonde to proffer the opened box and gently rested his forearm on her full, rounded thigh. It felt firm and warm under her dress. She did not move. As he moved back she offered a light to the dark-haired woman and then turned to him.

He reached out and took her hand, moving the flame towards the end of his cigarette. Her hand was cool. The slim fingers holding the lighter had long red fingernails. His own hand trembled slightly as he drew on the cigarette and the tip flared briefly. He released her hand and nodded at her. The eyes that looked back at him were full of mischief.

She lit her own cigarette, and in the light cast by the flame he saw long eyelashes and high cheekbones. She had a wide, full-lipped mouth. She took the cigarette from her lips, put the lighter back in her bag, crossed her legs and settled back in her seat. Her shoulder rested against his and he could feel the light pressure of her upper a run along his. Contact.

The main film started - the latest, much hyped X-rated thriller. On screen a woman walked into her bathroom, dropped her short, white, towelling robe to the floor, and got into the shower. Through the thick glass of the shower door, the camera - and the audience - watched her soaping her body. Steam rose as the hot water splashed against her skin.

The camera angle shifted. Her eyes closed against the streams of water, the woman soaped her large breasts, jutting nipples responding to the touch of her own fingers. Another switch of camera angle. She soaped down across her flat belly and began rubbing over the dark bush of her pubic hair. Her hand moved over the bush and down into the V of her legs, sliding lazily through the sluicing water and soap bubbles and then slowed to a sensuous caress over the lips of her cunt.

The camera cut back to her face. Her hair was plastered against her head. Her eyes were still closed but her head was raised and her mouth had opened, allowing streams of water to enter and then gush out. She was enjoying her shower. So was he - and when he took a quick sideways glance at the woman next to him, he saw her lips were parted too.

He raised the cigarette to his lips and, returning his elbow to the armrest, made firmer contact with her arm. There was a pause and then a slight answering pressure. His skin burnt with the heat from her. He moved his left hand across his body, rested it on his arm and with his outstretched finger gently touched her inner forearm and started slowly stroking it with his fingertips. Her flesh felt smooth under the silky fabric of her sleeve. She crossed her legs, shifted her body slightly in her seat and leaned against him.

Emboldened by her response, he spread his thighs and rested the outside of his right leg lightly against hers. She did not move away. Another pause and then again a slight but definite answering pressure from her. He could feel the warmth of her firm, full thigh along the whole length of his own.

He took a last drag on his cigarette and reached forward to put it out. As he leaned back he left his right hand on his thigh. Pressing his leg into the woman’s again, he pressed the back of his hand against her leg and felt the firmness of her thigh through the thin covering of her dress. Sliding his hand down so that his fingers were hidden from view, he started stroking the underside of her thigh with the back of his fingers.

Suddenly the woman broke contact, shifting away from him and sitting up in her seat. He froze. Had he gone too far? Too quickly? She reached forward and put out her own cigarette. Then she reached under her chair, brought out her coat and, feeling inside the pocket, brought out a small hankie. She dabbed her nose, folded the coat and rested it on her lap. Then her leg re-established contact with his thigh. Panic over. He relaxed. And then he realised what she had done. She was giving him some cover.

Elated, he waited a few moments and increased the pressure on her leg. She answered with a subtle but definite increase of pressure herself. He slid his hand underneath her coat and onto her full thigh. The fingers of his questing hand pushed the silky fabric of her dress as he spread his hand on her leg. He could feel the slipperiness of her stocking underneath her dress.

He moved higher on her thigh, her dress moving up with his hand. His fingertips brushed the slight metallic bump of a suspender clip. Moving higher on the warm, broad pathway of her thigh, he felt the outline of her suspender strap under his palm and the flesh of the top of her thigh under his fingers. She shifted again in her seat, lowering her body and opening her legs to help him. Lightly and oh, so slowly he stroked the top of her thigh, moving the silky fabric of her dress over the smooth, broad, slightly rounded surface, content to trace long, lazy circles on her warm flesh, building her desire with his fingertips. He made no attempt to reach for her cunt.

On screen, the woman from the shower was being kissed by a man in a mac and a dark blue suit. Her bathrobe fell open and his hands moved roughly over the woman’s big breasts, squeez-ing them and thumbing her nipples. He pushed his tongue into her open mouth. The bathrobe fell to the floor. The man reached clown to unzip his fly and woman leaned back against a small table, raised her legs and hooked them each side of his waist.

The couple’s mouths came apart as the man in the suit entered her and then their tongues slithered together as they started fucking. The woman next to him squeezed her thighs together in response to what was happening on the screen and then opened them again. He pushed his hand down between her legs, and as it slid down the smooth inner curve of her thigh she opened wider for him.

He reached for her cunt. Through the thin dress he could feel the fabric of her knickers and the flesh-padded, rounded bush of her pubic hair. Her cunt felt slippery and wet. He pushed his middle finger down into the dampness, but though he could feel that she was open to him the bunched fabric of her dress and the tautness of her knickers prevented his finger from penetrating her.

Then she shifted her position in her seat again and his hand was pushed away by the movement. She crossed her legs to exclude him. She leaned towards her friend and whispered something to her. Then she gathered up her coat and stood, waiting to pass him. He moved his legs to the side to let her through and she was gone, pushing past the couple at the end of the row and disappearing up the aisle towards the back of the cinema.

What was wrong? Had he been too eager? He watched the screen and waited. Was she going to return with the manager? Surely not.

The screen was alive with movement and bustle as police swarmed round the dead body of the man in the blue suit. It had been his flat. His shower. Cherchez la femme. But at least the dead man’s face looked as though he had died happy.

And then she was back. The couple at the end of the row stood to let her through. He stood in turn and she smiled her thanks and pushed past him.

Once more she spread her coat loosely over her lap and settled herself. Almost immediately her arm was laid against his and when he moved his leg her thigh was waiting for his.

He relaxed and slid his hand once more under her coat and onto her thigh. Her left hand reached under the coat, squeezed his hand with her long, cool fingers and then lifted it and moved it across her legs. He felt an opening to her dress under his fingers. Pushing his hand inside, he touched her stockinged leg again. His hand moved over the silky nylon, fingers feeling the satin-like texture of the stocking stretched tight over her skin. Then he moved his moved his hand higher, over the small metallic lump of her suspender clip and onto the bare flesh above. He slipped his fingers under the thin strap on her suspender belt and revelled in the feel of her warm, smooth flesh.

He realised what she had done. The dress buttoned all the way down, and she had undone the buttons over her thighs. Once more she moved down in her seat, opening her legs and her lower body to him.

He reached boldly for her cunt. His fingers touched tight, springy hairs over her mound and the pads of his fingertips dipped into the slippery wet flesh of her parted cunt lips. She had also taken off her knickers. She was awash in her own juices. She was ready for him. But he made no move to pene-trate her with his fingers. Using the hard ridge of bone at the top of his palm he worked her, pressing over the flesh-padded mound, cupping his hand over the site of her clitoris and letting the length of his fingers dip into the long, slippery wet welcome of her cunt.

She began moving her body and thighs slowly to the rhythm of his hand. He glanced sideways at her face. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes, looking up at the screen, were unfocussed and glazed. She reached under her coat and took hold of his wrist. She pushed his hand down. She wanted his fingers inside her. He pushed two fingers up into the slippery smooth velvet of her cunt pressing the ridge of his palm down onto her clitoris. She gasped audibly beside him and he was conscious that her friend had turned to look at them. She was coming. His fingers felt the spasms inside her.

Her thighs closed over his hand and her fingers tightened on his wrist as she worked on the last ripples of her orgasm. Then slowly her whole body relaxed and she moved his hand away, squeezing it again as she let go. She turned to him. Her eyes were wide. Her nostrils flared and her lush lips were curled back slightly over strong white teeth. ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed. Then she settled herself against him.

He reached for his coat, took out a cigarette and, lighting it with his own lighter, handed it to her. He lit another one, leaned across her and handed it to her friend. The brunette looked at him as she took it, eyes full of amusement, and nodded her thanks.

He smiled to himself. One evening soon he was going to escort both these women to the cinema - and sit between them.

Now it was his turn. He sat back and put his coat in his lap. He looked at the blonde again. She was coming down from herhigh. He motioned towards the coat with his eyes and then looked back at her. Her eyes lit up with mischief and she leaned in closer to him.

Her left hand burrowed underneath the edge of his coat, slid over the front of his trousers and reached for his prick. She felt for the shape of him under the cloth and squeezed him between fingers and thumb. Then her fingers left him and deftly unbuttoned its full length and her long, slim fingers reached inside and closed round his bare erect prick.

Her hand freed him from his trousers and, squeezing him gently, started a slow up and down movement over the base of his prick.

He looked up at the screen luxuriating in the touch of her fingers. A detective was sitting in an armchair in the woman’s home. She made them both a drink, handed a tall glass to him and sat on a sofa opposite him. She was wearing a tight dress with a slit up the side. She crossed her legs and lifted her glass to her lips. Her skirt was high over her rounded knees and the slit was parted to reveal the length of her thigh. She looked at the detective over the edge of the glass. Her eyes were daring him, ‘Wanna fuck?’

Under his coat he felt his prick being released from the warmth of her palm. Her fingers began moving slowly over its full rampant length. Then she changed her technique and her fingertips began making slow, gentle circles around the very tip of his prick, teasing him. He was very close to coming.

On screen the detective put his glass down, got out of his seat and moved over to sit beside the woman. He reached for the back of her head, pulling her face towards him and brought her open mouth down onto his. The camera shifted to show her legs opening and the detective’s hand reaching up between her knees, pushing the tight skirt up out of the way. The woman’s body slid down on the sofa and her thighs spread to receive him. Her hands were reaching to undo the detective’s belt. Within seconds they would be fucking. Within minutes the detective would be dead - but smiling.

He felt the woman beside him looking up into his face and then her fingers moved fast to finish him. As her hand pumped over his hot flesh he closed his eyes and concentrated on her hand pulling on his prick, willing him to spurt. And then he was over the edge and falling. His mouth sagged open as his prick began pulsating, jetting spasm after spasm of sperm into the folds of his coat.

Gradually he came down to earth. He looked at the woman next to him. Her eyes were laughing at him and the lush lips of her mouth formed a mock-surprised circular ‘Oh!’ at the amount of come he had shot into his coat. Her hand must have been soaked in it.

Smiling up at him, she took her hand out from under his coat, put the tip of her middle finger on her tongue and sucked it. Then eyes twinkling she leaned up to put her mouth next to his ear.

‘Hi, I’m Caroline,’ she said softly.

He grinned, leaned towards her and whispered into her ear, ‘Do you come often here Caroline?’