You're playing hookey when you should be at work, dressed very carefully for the occasion: skirt a bit shorter, heels a bit higher, blouse a bit tighter than you usually wear to the office, but nothing to arouse suspicion. A tiny silken wisp of a thong, or perhaps no panties at all. Your pulse racing as you drive to the dollar movies, buy a ticket for the matinee of some third-rate chick flick so stale it's probably already playing on cross-country flights.
Even if you didn't know what I look like, I'd be easy to spot in the near-empty theater (three grey-haired old ladies and a few high-school couples, cutting class and already making out even before the lights go down), all alone in the back row. You feel the briefest tingle between your legs, like a faint static shock as you walk up the aisle, suddenly and unexpectedly embarrassed as you realize only the granny section is here for the movie.
"Hi sweetie, I'm glad you could make it!"
Although the hug and kiss I greet you with is quick and casual, my hand isn't merely resting on your ass but sizing up the merchandise, which you acknowledge and encourage by subtly melting into my arms, your firm tits mashed against my chest. I stroke your knee as non-chalantly as I can while we sit, murmuring small talk until the lights dim and the previews begin at the usual earsplitting volume. I lean in close and hiss into your ear, my voice almost a growl:
"You're so fucking hot I can't stand it: I wish I could taste that sweet pussy right now!"
Without a word, you guide my hand up under the hem of your skirt, taking a dainty nibble of my earlobe as my fingers inch closer, letting your knees ease wider. We sigh into each other's ears, a long, slow, simultaneous exhale as I find you even warmer and wetter than I'd hoped, rough fingers gliding frictionlessly between soft petals; hot, honey-thick juice like warm syrup sticking to my skin. You're just beginning to relax and enjoy my two thick fingers thrusting knuckle-deep inside you when I withdraw, take a long sniff and suck them clean. The trickle between your legs is becoming a torrent as a handsome stranger nearly old enough to be your father savors the musky aroma and spicy sea-tang of your aroused cunt with obvious enjoyment.
"Smooth as a little girl," I leer, adjusting the awkwardly-bent lump in my pants so my swelling dick has room to stretch out.
Your eyes flash mischievously in the flickering light of the screen. "I know you like it that way, so I shaved this morning just for you ... Daddy!"
All I can manage for an answer is "Ungh!," but taken together with my ever more-urgent finger-banging, you know you've struck a nerve.
"I know you want to taste my wet, sticky little pussy, don't you Daddy?"