Double Feature

This story belongs to me. Consider this my copyright. I DO NOT recommend that you do any of the things described in this story. Unsafe sex is reckless, irresponsible and dangerous. That's my public health disclaimer. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy it.

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She couldn't believe she was back. She'd waited nearly a month, torn between an almost overwhelming desire to return and a heartfelt fear that she was on the verge of a very dangerous precipice. Ready to tumble over, if the racing of her heart as she pulled into the parking lot of the theatre was any indication.

It was dark outside. Fitting, somehow, for the darkness she could feel building inside of her. The intensely compelling urge to throw away her inhibitions and her morals and any sense of self-preservation that she might be clinging on to in favor of the oddly fulfilling freedom of pursuing pleasure with little regard for any possible costs. It was almost like a force inside of her, a separate entity driving her to do things that her mind insisted she was incapable of doing.

Foolishness, really, because she was well aware that she was more than capable of doing what she was about to do again. After her first trip to the theatre, she'd spent the month in between masturbating herself to near exhaustion every night, thinking of how it'd felt to be there, to take strangers' cocks in her mouth, her pussy, and her ass. Thinking of herself bent over the back of that chair as the man behind her tore into her. She'd been sore for nearly a week after, a twinge of pain shooting through her every time she sat.

She'd loved it.

And now she was back. She was wearing a short, loose black skirt and a tight black tank top. No bra, no panties, and no hose... just black heels. Fashionably slutty, in an easy to access way, she'd told herself as she'd assembled the outfit. A man had only to flip her skirt up to get to her pussy or her ass, and with no bra she didn't have to worry about fumbling fingers searching for the hook. Practicality was what she was shooting for, because there was no need to complicate her mission.

And what was her mission? To get fucked, for one, though beyond that she hadn't made any plans. The spontaneity of it all was almost as fun as the actual act. Not knowing what would come next... not being able to control what came next. That was perhaps the best part. That sense of recklessness, and the knowledge that she was probably just an inch away from being out of control of the situation. From being a pawn, unable to resist what might happen.

The lobby was empty as she walked in the theatre, save only for the cashier at the desk. His smirk let her know that he more than remembered her, and perhaps remembered the way she'd fled the theatre only a month ago. Maybe he'd even heard talk of her exploits. The thought made her a little wet.

"Well, welcome back, sweetheart," he said, and his voice was raspy as if he smoked a pack or two too many during his offtime. "Long time no see."

She blushed, uncertain how to answer. So, she merely shrugged her shoulders shyly, looking down.

"Cat got your tongue?" he teased, winking as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. The move brought him closer to her, so close that she could smell his cheap cologne and see the hint of dark blonde stubble that was already beginning to take over his jawline.

He was a fairly young man, probably only in his early thirties. He had long blonde hair, currently pulled back into a slightly frizzy ponytail, and bright green eyes, but other than that, his features were unremarkable. He looked like an ordinary kind of guy, one that she wouldn't look at twice in her everyday life. But, even though he was kind of scrawny, he still had that lean, rangy look about him, letting her know that he was undoubtedly stronger than he appeared.

At her continued silence, he chuckled. "Hell, who needs conversation anyway. It's $20 tonight."

Eyebrows rising slightly at that, she moved to slide off her shoe, looking for the cash she'd stashed there. She figured prices might be a higher on the weekends, but it was still a little more than she'd expected.

"Unless..." he drawled, drawing her attention and halting her movements. "Unless you want to work out a deal."

The lascivious tone in his voice caught her interest, and she paused for a second before clearing her throat. "Just what kind of deal?" she asked, surprised as the words came out as a teasing whisper.

At that the man smirked again, then nodded his head to the side.

"Why don't you come around to this side of the counter and I'll show you," he said suggestively.

By the time she'd stepped around, he had already unzipped his pants and pulled his semi-hard cock free. Standing there, one hand wrapped around his shaft and the other propped up against the counter, he looked from her lips to his cock and then back again.

She stood for a second, a number of witty comments racing through her mind. In the end, she opted to forget about the banter and get right down to business. After all, it was an inevitability. She was going to suck his cock regardless of what was said and who said it, and there was really no need to prolong the obvious. She saw him as a warm-up, really, and the fact that she was trading the use of her mouth for the admission fee to the place where she'd come to get royally fucked was irony in a delicious sort of way.

The floor was hard beneath her knees, and it was hot and airless under the counter, but she didn't really care. His cock, once she'd stroked it to life, was fairly normal in size and appearance, and she wasted little time before taking him in her mouth. He gasped, then hissed, then slid one hand under the counter so that it rested against the back of her head and then let her do all the work. She could hear him talking with others occasionally, accepting their money and offering change in curt exchanges, and had to wonder at his apparent staying power. He showed no signs of cumming quickly.

Intrigued, she moved beyond the simple, standard blowjob. Slowing down, she teased him slightly with her tongue, wrapping him in the soft, hot, wetness of her mouth as one hand gently manipulated his scrotum, squeezing and stroking the flesh there. Sometimes, with no warning, she moved quickly, taking him fully in her mouth until the tip of his cock barely pushed into the opening of her throat, and she'd suck hard, creating an unyielding vacuum around his flesh. It was interesting, almost like an experiment, to see how he responded each time, until finally she grew weary of the play and began to bob up and down rapidly, fucking his cock with her mouth.

His breath started to come in harder and harder pants, and soon his hand was a constant pressure against the back of her head, pushing her further and further onto his cock and holding her there for longer and longer amounts of time. She felt him swell only seconds before he started to cum, and she swallowed each thick spurt with ease, some part of her taking pride in the fact that she'd caused that.

When she pulled away with a light smack, he looked down at her, a dark grin on his face. "Good job, sweetheart. For that, I'll give you half-off. Only $10 for you tonight."

At the words, she rocked back on her heels, shocked. "You can't mean..." she sputtered, incensed.

"Pay up or I can't let you in," he said smugly, one eyebrow cocked expectantly. "And wouldn't that be a shame."

"You... you... you tricked me," she fumed, digging a $10 bill out of her shoe angrily and then slapping it into his outstretched palm.

"Not so," he qualified, shoving the bill into his money drawer. "I said we could work out a deal. You didn't bother to ask the terms. Besides, you know you would've done it for free. I heard the story about the last time you were here. Seems to me like you're a slut for any hard cock you can find, and I don't see why I shouldn't be able to get in on that action just because I'm stuck out here. The way I see it, I was doing you two favors at once."

Left gaping as he turned around, leaving her standing there staring at his back like a fool, she took a minute to think over what he'd said. He'd heard about the story about the last time she was there, he'd said, which meant that he wasn't the only one. What kind of room would she be walking into, then, if all of the men there thought they had only to whip out their cocks and she'd be more than happy to service them? She couldn't handle that.

But she was already at the theatre, another part of her mind insisted. She'd paid her $10 and worked the rest off in trade. Might as well go ahead and go in... she didn't know what it would be like. It could be that the cashier only heard the gossip because he worked there.

So, taking a resolute breath, she made her way down the dirty steps that led to the theatre and slid in quietly again, once more hiding herself in the darkness. The movie was different this time, and definitely piqued her interest.

A beautiful blonde girl lay on her side, one leg held up high in the air. Behind her, barely visible, was a large, muscular black man thrusting excitedly into her. Her breasts jiggled with the force of his movements, and her eyes were scrunched closed in an __expression of pleasure/pain. Five other black men stood behind and to the side watching, each stroking an impressively long, hard cock. As she watched, the man behind her rolled over onto his back and she straddled him, hands resting on his shoulders for balance. Even as she eased into place, another man approached and knelt down behind her, his cock immediately zeroing in on her unfilled ass.

She watched, enthralled, as he slid his cock slowly into her ass until he was buried fully. The sounds the girl made were exquisite. Low moans and shrill squeaks, and she could tell from the look on the girl's face that she wasn't faking the intensity of the moment. To be filled that fully, to be impaled on two cocks as large as the ones nearly splitting the actress on the stage in two... she thought she might just cum from the mental image alone.

She didn't, though, and looked away from the screen in an attempt to keep calm even though the sounds of the threesome on screen were almost enough to keep her in a constant fog of dazed arousal. But, she needed to check out the scene, needed to know if there was any good reason for her to stay.

There were more drag queens there, of course. It was the weekend, after all, and so the theatre was slightly more crowded than it had been the last time she'd come. As she watched them circle the room, as she watched them find willing partners, she wondered about the men who came to the theatre. Were some gay? She knew they had to be, even if the film being shown was the epitome of heterosexuality. Were some straight? She imagined that was true as well. After all, some of the men rejected the advances of the drag queens. Not that accepting a blow job made them gay, that is. She imagined that some of the men figured a mouth was a mouth, no matter to whom it was attached. Were some of them bi? She had no doubt.

Part of her wondered if she held any interest for the gay men there. Would they see her presence as a chance to try out something new, or to return to something they hadn't had in a while? Did they subscribe to the "a hole is a hole" philosophy? Part of her wished they would. She didn't know why, but the thought was a tiny bit thrilling to her. Not that she would know, of course. She didn't plan on asking for names or sexual orientations before playing around. And maybe it was better for her not to know, and to simply be able to imagine.

Not that she really had time to think about it. The door to the theatre swung open and a man entered, pausing just inside and looking around as if trying to spot someone. The someone he was trying to spot, apparently, was her because as soon as he made out her form, he ambled over. Shifting into the darkness even further, she waited apprehensively, not quite sure about this turn of events.

He didn't bother with her show of shyness, though. Instead, he moved in right beside her, leaning against the wall by her shoulder and hemming her into the corner. One of his hands found hers, and before she could protest he'd placed her hand on his cock.

"The guy at the desk told me you'd be more than happy to help me out with this," he whispered in her ear, and she drew back, a little shocked at both the words and at his bluntness.

"He was mistaken," she said sharply, though she didn't remove her hand from where it was, resting over the front of the man's blue jeans. The man was only a little taller than she, with a bandy build that reminded her a little bit of a rooster parading around. His hair was cropped close in a military style cut, and he wore glasses with round lenses that weren't the most flattering in the world. But despite that, despite the fact that she didn't really find him attractive and that his cock, from what she could feel of it, wasn't all that impressive, she didn't make any overt move to push him away.

Tilting his head to the side, looking at her contemplatively, the man nodded his head slowly from side to side. "Nah, I don't think he was. I think," he continued, putting his hands on her shoulders and slowly turning her so that she was facing the wall, "that he was exactly right."

She wasn't sure why she didn't protest, first when he pressed her against the wall and then when he flipped her skirt up over her buttocks. But she didn't, and when he eased her legs apart with his thigh and ran his fingers through her slit, finding them instantly coated by her thick wetness, she decided it didn't matter. For whatever reason, she was going to let him fuck her.

And fuck her he did. Seconds later she felt his cock in her pussy, with no real pretense of foreplay. Instead, he simply pressed into her and started thrusting, short little thrusts that she could barely feel. He wasn't well endowed, nor did he seem all that interested in whether or not she enjoyed the experience, and after what was probably only around 45 seconds of frenzied activity behind her, he came.

"Thanks baby," he whispered in her ear, panting from his short-lived exertion, then patted her on the ass before disappearing out the door once again.

Left almost bewildered by the encounter, it took her a second to comprehend that she had known for less than two minutes the man whose cum was slowly leaking out of her pussy. She'd been thoroughly and completely used. He'd treated her more or less as a prostitute, there only to satisfy his desire. He hadn't bothered to worry about her pleasure. In fact, he'd been less than concerned about her pleasure because if he'd thought that she would get anything from his less than impressive performance, then he'd been sadly led astray at some point during his past.

As she surreptitiously reached between her legs and used a napkin she had brought with her to wipe away some of his cum, she tried to come to grips with the fact that while she hadn't enjoyed fucking the man, she enjoyed what he stood for. The mere thought of what he'd done made her wet. The fact that she'd let him, a stranger who she didn't even find attractive, fuck her and fill her dripping pussy with his cum before disappearing with nothing more than a "Thanks"... well, it made her want to do it again.

It was time to pick some prey.

So many, many choices...

Almost every type and variety of man she could imagine was there. Tall, short, fat, thin, bald, hirsute, black, white, Asian, Hispanic. Every type, and she couldn't help but think of them as an all-you-can-eat buffet lined up just for her. Chosing would be the hardest part.

She thought for a moment, mulling over her options, before she decided to try someone unlike anyone she'd ever been with before. He had darkly tanned skin and slicked back black hair. If she had to guess, she'd say he was probably from Puerto Rico though she wasn't sure. Regardless, he looked more than surprised when she gingerly eased herself into the seat beside him and placed her hand lightly on his knee.

Feeling oddly confident, unsure whether or not her newfound control of the situation was due more to her past experience or the load of cum already sitting heavily in her belly, she turned to him and smiled. "If you don't want me to do this, then tell me now."

Resisting the urge to laugh at his nearly panic-striken ____expression, she trailed her fingers lightly up his thigh, running a sharp nail over the button fly of his jeans. He didn't say anything, merely swallowed convulsively and nodded his head up and down in a somewhat frantic motion, and she smirked as she began to pop open the first of five buttons.

It didn't take long for him to ease down in his seat to help her out, and within seconds she'd eased his semi-erect cock out of his briefs. Determined to make semi into fully, she wrapped her hand around his shaft and began to stroke him lightly, thumb brushing against the first few drops of precum that almost immediately began to ooze out of his tip.

Intrigued, interested in getting a closer look, she eased out of her seat so that she was resting between his legs, knees bent so that she was even with his lap. Thick, dark hair grew in a thatch at his crotch, curling up around his balls and the shaft of his penis. It was oddly coarse under her fingers, so she quickly abandoned playing with it in favor of his much more interesting cock.

He was fairly average in size, perhaps 5 or so inches in length and wide enough for her to wrap her fingers around his shaft and only have the tips touch. His skin was warm, almost burning hot, and she decided then that she'd let him fuck her if he made any move to do so. Until that, though, she was going to taste him.

Leaning over his lap, lips poised above the tip of his cock, she looked up, her eyes meeting his. Inky black in the darkness of the theatre, she thought she could see, nonetheless, trepidation and excitement. She wondered if the look was reflected in her own eyes.

Not that she had too much time to mull it over. She was there to wax poetic about the situation. So instead, she flicked out her tongue, clearing away the thick bead of precum that had gathered on his tip, then took as much of him in her mouth as she possibly could. Closing her mouth around him like a vacuum, she pulled upward slowly before swallowing his cock once more. It was a slow, steady rhythm, one that she quickly found herself lost in until the low reverberation of a moan broke into her haze. Glancing upwards, lips still wrapped tightly around the tip of his cock, she watched as the man threw his head back, as he wrapped his fingers tightly around the chair arms. His chest was heaving rapidly as he drew in harsh pants of air and she would have smiled had she not been otherwise engaged. Instead, she tightened her hold on his tip and began to stroke him with her tongue. Lash after lash, until she felt him rise up off the seat slightly and heard his moans turn to grunts, and she barely had time to slide her lips down to the base of his cock, taking his tip in her throat, before he came.

Pulling back, letting the second and third spurts hit her tongue heavily, she swallowed the thick cum. He tasted much different from the cashier, more pleasant somehow, and she pulled away, licking her lips as she straightened.

He stood quickly as well, cock still hanging free of his pants. Grabbing her hand, he looked at her earnestly, dark eyes full of something close to wonder. "Marry me," he said, voice heavily accented.

She was startled for a moment, then just laughed, patting him gently on the cheek. "Thanks, but no," she said, leaning over to kiss him lightly on the lips. "But maybe I'll see you around sometime."