They were closing the theater late night. The last show came and went, the concessions were sold, and the parking lot was filled and emptied. All that remained was the cleaning.
It was just the two of them, Morgan and Robert. She—a curvy, petite vixen of nineteen, and he—a slim, eighteen year old full of energy, were the typical closing crew every Saturday night. This night, however, would be anything but typical.
Damn! Robert Bret Davidson thought to himself as he observed his partner sweeping, I've liked her for so long! I wonder if she's noticed?
Thus it had been for a year and a half for Robert, lusting and looking from afar while she contented herself with light flirtation and glances. He craved every part of her—a smell of her perfume, a light touch, a smile—but what he loved best were those rare glimpses of thong under her normally conservative, tasteful outfits.
It was a lucky night for Robert already then, because her jeans had been just a little too low all night. He stared at her ample but proportioned tits and taut, firm ass constantly anyway, but tonight he had been rewarded every time she bent to get candy. He could see it now, too, as she squatted to sweep trash into the dustpan in the lobby he was mopping. She had chosen well: a dark blue, lacy thong with a black bow in the back and black polka dots on the little triangle over her ass. He loved the way the bow peeked out at him from the tan gloves of her ass over her tight jeans. Sadly, she finished sweeping all too quickly and stood, dustpan full in her hand, thong safely hidden. She turned and gave him a smile of familiarity, sympathizing with their weekly situation, staring into his eyes for just a split second before walking to the trash can. He stared back at her, first at her eyes then at her ass, before continuing to mop, working around the aching bulge in his jeans.
Damn! Morgan Robertson thought to herself as she stood by the trash can in the corner and watched her partner mopping, He doesn't hide a boner well! I wonder if he's noticed my thong?
Thus it had been for about three months for Morgan, finally noticing Robert's attraction to her and liking it. Still, she didn't know how to approach him. She knew he would never make a move, for not only was he chronically uncertain about relationships, but she never went past a casual flirt with him. Hell, she barely knew how to act around men anymore. Ever since her recent breakup with her last guy she had been different. She was shyer and more reluctant around boys, especially when it came to Robert. It was like ever since she noticed his desire for her, she had felt a strange sexual tension every time they talked. She relieved it with smiles and polite conversation, but all she could really notice was his athletic build and that constant strain in his pants. She hadn't so much as touched her pussy in three months and it seemed like every guy she passed smelled sexy and had a hard-on, let alone the guy she spent every Saturday night working with. She stared at his back as he mopped, laughing quietly as he pulled his pants up every five minutes, and sighed.
They worked in near silence for the next half hour, cleaning slowly. They swept and mopped both the lobby and concession area and cleaned the popcorn and soda machines together. She would periodically trade a close smile and a slip of the thong for a closer moment to him and a longer gaze at his crotch. She played him, smiling to get him near then bending over at just the right moments to "clean," keeping him rock hard. She loved the way she could feel his eyes on her lower back, and there wasn't a single time she faced him that he didn't look at her chest before her eyes. This was the most voyeuristic she had ever been, and she was getting hornier by the minute. Her desperate cleverness overpowered his lustful masculine ignorance by a mile, and all she had to do was pick a time in which to reel him in.
Unfortunately for Morgan, it seemed, her playful sexuality almost cost her all of Robert's sexual desire. While she was playing coy, arousing herself by showing him her thong, she was also painfully arousing him. He reached a point of desperation by the time they were finished in the concession area that he knew would drive him to either grope her ass or explode. He took the first opportunity he could find and dismissed himself to sweep the cinemas. Sweeping, however, was last on his mind.
As fast as he could, he pulled a tall trash can and a broom into the nearest cinema and yanked it to about halfway up the stairs by the rows of seats. He let the can rest on a big step by a row of seats in the upper middle part of the cinema, and took one step up behind it. There, back to the door below him and to the projector window, he finally unzipped his confining jeans.
Parting the hole in the front of his boxer-briefs, Robert let his pants slide to mid-thigh level and pulled his cock out. It made a nice handful flaccid, and he quickly massaged it to full hardness, pointing straight at the back edge of the trash can below him. Rob was right at average height and weight, and his dick was no exception. It pointed straight out at a solid six inches hard, and sat above two perfectly symmetrical, fuzzy chestnuts that were his balls. His hand worked quickly over his smooth, pale shaft, running from a taut red helmet of a head to his freshly shorn mound. He was achingly sensitive, so he used a looser three-fingered grip designed to pull his skin up over the head without using lube, and he screwed his eyes shut as he went to town. Images of Morgan's thong ran across his mind, always just slightly revealing that perfect ass he craved.
He quickened his speed, grunting slightly each time his fingers rubbed across the crown of his head and his sensitive glans. His free left hand made good time between his tightening nuts and his already tightened nipples, pulling and squeezing lightly on them all. He could imagine it was Morgan, naked but for her cheerleading skirt, giving him so much pleasure. He fucked her in his mind, kneeling behind her doggy-style and pushing her skirt up above her pussy. He timed his jerking hand with his mental thrusts and got into it, leaning over the trash can for support. He could hear his nuts slap the side of the can over his grunts, and knew he was ready to cum in her mentally and in the trash can physically. Just as he felt his nuts clamp to his stomach and his dick stiffen in readiness, however, he heard a cough to his left.
Robert jumped three feet in the air, eyes wide, and wheeled to face the noise. His mind was rudely taken from his intense fantasy and his eyes probed the dim seats for his intruder. He stuffed his rapidly softening penis back into his underwear, leaking pre-cum like crazy, and pulled his pants up, eyes never leaving the seats around him.
After about ten seconds of nervous tension, Morgan rose from behind one of the seats behind and to the left of Robert. He saw her immediately and turned beet red. He didn't know what to say that would explain his actions to her that wouldn't freak her out. He just stood there, head down, ruefully watching her approach. Even embarrassed, he couldn't help but admire the fluidity of her movements, her smooth gait, and her easy smile. He also noticed the free swing of her supple breasts and her visibly protruding nipples. She wasn't wearing a bra! His cheated cock twitched in his loose jeans at this realization, but that just reminded him of what he had been caught doing in the first place.
She finally reached the stairs and stayed her step above him, looking him in the eyes. The whole walk over she had been stifling laughter at his obvious embarrassment and conflicting arousal. Not that her own arousal didn't show, of course: her nipples were rocks on her chest and her thong was soaked through under her jeans. She had watched him from the beginning, having slipped into the cinema behind him and found a good vantage point from which to peep. She had watched past boyfriends jack off before, and had even participated in a few, but none of them had Robert's passion! He grunted and thrusted against his hand like it was the last opportunity he would ever have, and it got her horny as hell. She had watched him go from half-mast to full blast in five minutes and it was the most arousing sight she had ever seen! Her last boyfriend was an asshole and hung like a field mouse to boot, so next to him her newfound crush was extremely nice to watch. She had rubbed her clit against the seam of her jeans constantly, trying to keep her moans of pleasure quiet. She had almost succeeded too! Damn that cough! If she had kept it quiet another second she could have seen him come. Once his moment was ruined, however, Morgan realized it was time to pull him in and fix his problems herself.
Robert had started stammering an explanation as soon as Morgan got within an arm's length of him. It was lame to begin with, something about the desperation of male desire, and it wasn't words she was after in the first place. She let him blither on for a few seconds, amused at his ruffled pride, mortification, and aroused confusion. Before he got completely turned off, however, she halted his words with one finger on his lips. He jumped at her sudden touch, and his eyes opened wide as his mouth shut.
Morgan stared deeply into his confused eyes and said one sentence: "I don't care." Then she slid her finger off his warm lips and kissed him. She was at the perfect height, standing up just tall enough on her step to make her lips sit right in front of his, and the kiss was good. He stiffened in shock at first, astounded at what was happening, but he quickly warmed under the pressure of her lips on his, and decided it wasn't a dream and he'd better participate.
It was a slow, wet, languid embrace, meant to translate every hidden sexual feeling and sexual tension into tangible desire, and it worked. His lips were smooth and dry, hers slightly dampened and tasting of mint, but together they were perfect. Wordlessly, he expressed over a year of pent up desire, which met with her novel lust to send electricity down both their spines. They worked silently for a full minute and a half, just feeling each other's lips closemouthed, before breaking in a gasping frenzy of elated pleasure. They stood for a moment just staring at each other, making sure they were both thinking the same, and then clashed together again, mouths working like mad.
This time they opened up, sucking at each other's tongues and lips, rapidly exploring the recesses of each other's mouths. Their tongues danced an entwining dance for which their bodies had longed for months. Once he was familiar with the taste of her mouth he moved to the nape of her neck, working his way from collar to ear with short, soft kisses. His hands ran to the small of her back and pulled her to him, pushing her head back and chest forward, revealing more of her neck and breasts. Their lips met again, breaths panting out between their kisses, as her hands slipped under the back of his shirt and slid across his tensed muscles.
They worked like this for a full five minutes before stopping, each eager and seeking approval to move on. He stared at her face, mere inches from his, and felt her hard nipples through his shirt and her hands on his back. She could feel his hands pressing her to him, and she was well aware of the growing heat at the junction of their legs.