(Story Inspired by THEATER By RLM - there is no point in hiding it)
The two of us had not been out together for more than a year, so when the opportunity arose for a chance to got out for our wedding anniversary, we suddenly found ourselves pondering on the best way to spend such a rare occasion.
Since it had been so long, we both felt it best to give the pubs and clubs a miss - so deliberated and finally opted to go and see a film - something we used to do quite often before getting married. It would be nice to cuddle together, perhaps even in the back row with an added fumble and feel if the film didn't manage to catch our attention.
I watched her get changed for the night out, and found it so difficult to keep my hands to myself as she teased me openly by parading around in black stockings, a G-string and a flimsy low cut hold-up bra. She was in no doubt of the effect her choice of underwear was having on me - no doubt at all. Soon though, she covered all the items that had taken my attention with her outer garments: a neat skirt with a risqué‚ split - especially in that it occasionally revealed a flash of the dark stocking tops and the soft fleshy skin above them.
She struggled to button her shiny red blouse to conceal her cleavage, and smiled at the look of amazement written on my face - gawking, like it was the first time I had witnessed her this way.
"Gosh my titties must be getting bigger," she said, almost whispering, knowing I knew and had appreciated this fact openly in the months leading up to now.
Finally she had to leave the two the middle buttons barely buttoned at all, but just managing the task of holding back the splendid swell of her breasts - I could never recall them looking as good. "You don't think this is too tight do you?" She asked, to which I shook my head eagerly. She gave me a twirl and smoothed her hands down each side of her skirt, flattening the folds and feeling the suspenders hiding beautifully underneath. You wouldn't have thought she was merely dressing for the cinema, but I certainly wasn't complaining.
My turn to dress now, but my imagination never got further than a pair of well used jeans and an equally bland shirt. Oh well, at least one of us looked good enough to eat.
We were both excited by the prospect of having this time alone together, more so however that after the film we would also get to be alone back home. These days this was equally rare, as with three children it was becoming almost impossible to find a willing baby sitter. But tonight was a one off - a one off that we would have to take full advantage of.
The Cinema was strangely quiet for a Saturday night - perhaps a sign that the film we were to see wasn't going to be any good. We arrived just as the lights were dimmed and quickly chose seats a few rows down from the back.
When our eyes adjusted sufficiently, we could see that there were no other people sat nearby us. Two couples sat in the back row, but the rest were quite well spaced out across the rest of the seats. I was happy that no one was near to us and was surprised when she asked if we could get closer to the screen. I was just about going to tell her that was a bad idea when she rose and walked slowly down the aisle allowing her hips to undulate and show off the tightness of her skirt, obviously expecting me to follow. She stopped at a row that had people already seated. I followed a few steps behind but was not quick enough to stop her from choosing this row to sit.
Two men blocked her path. She smiled, excused herself and squeezed past them allowing her bum to rub against their legs. I followed. A few men watched her as she lowered her body into onto a seat and crossed her legs.
When I finally caught up and took residence in the seat next to her, I noticed the split in her skirt was positioned away from her legs, exposing a generous expanse of one leg - lusciously exposing a few centimetres of thigh. The light reflected off the white flesh, but stopped where the dark stocking top began.
The two men seated a few seats down the row turned to stare. Their eyes were glued to my wife's legs, especially her half-exposed thighs. I stared at the screen where I realised I had missed the beginning of the film. I was about to complain about her moving seats without waiting for me when I realised that I had an erection due to the simple sight of her stockings. Or was it due to the fact that other men had also seen the sight of her legs and perhaps had even had a feel of her rear as she squeezed past them?
I looked back to the two men, situated two seats away from us, but realised their attentions had turned to the screen as a dimly lit scene had rendered the room almost completely dark. I saw their faces by the light from the projector, but anything lower than that was too dark to focus on. I tried watching the film for a few minutes but my mind had wandered and held the image of her crossed legs.
I moved my hand onto her thigh and pushed the split in her skirt even wider. When it was well above the tops of her stockings, I slipped my hand underneath and felt her firm thighs as my cock looked for some room in my jeans.
The film graced us with a bright scene, and I secretly observed that both men to her left were now watching intently as I played with my wife's legs. Their eyes shifted back and fourth from the screen to her thighs. I wasn't sure if she knew they were watching. She uncrossed her legs and crossed the left leg across the right exposing a wider expanse of the delicate flesh of her thighs. I wondered if she realised that one of these guys now had a pretty obvious erection. Unlike me - he wore loose fitting suit trousers - and as the screen lit up I caught a glimpse of him placing his hand on his lap, either to conceal his excitement or to have a squeeze in acknowledgement of it. My wife cleared her throat, and I felt her thigh quiver slightly to my touch. I was now aware although not quite sure that the man had actually began to move his hands over the erection under his trousers. By this time, it was obvious he had lost interest in the film but still he was attempting to not make his sneaking-a-peek look too obvious.
I felt my wife's hand close around my own concealed cock. "Hmmmmm you're really hard, she whispered, snuggling closer to my cheek. "I can feel it throbbing." She traced a hand over the front of my jeans, concentrating upon the erect shape below, but still looking towards the screen. I was throbbing and now quite leaking considerably inside my pants. I had to shift in my seat to gain a more comfortable posture as it strained to find any room within my jeans. I finally had to unbuckle my belt to allow a bit more freedom, then move my own crossed legs nearer to her hand.
I looked to my wife's left and was now shocked to see that the man whose interest had not swayed was making more obvious motions across the front of his loose trousers. My heart almost burst at how blatant his stroking had become. As the light on the screen changed constantly from light to dark, I was never afforded more than a split second to see exactly what he was up to. But the fact remained; this guy was touching himself while he watched my wife touching me. I felt like I was going to cum and had to close my eyes and concentrate to keep from exploding too soon. As my wife continued to gently massage me - now inside the crotch of my jeans - I noticed that she was also looking at the sight to her left. When the man saw that she was watching him, he moved over the two seats to the seat next to her.
I turned my attention back to the film, removing my hands from my wife's legs and enjoying the feeling of her fingers upon me. I was startled when she leaned over and whispered in my ear, "He's playing with my thigh, honey." I looked over at the guy. He was staring directly at her almost exposed thighs, oblivious to the fact I could see him. I couldn't see his hand in the dark, but I could see that his arm was moving in slow circles. He was obviously playing with my wife's thighs.
"He's moving up my thigh, Honey. Ooooohhh that's nice. He's trying to get his hand between my legs now. Aaahhhhhh".
My cock throbbed even harder as I began to notice the man stroke up and down the length of her thigh, gradually moving her skirt further up than I had dared. He lightly rubbed the front of the G-string she wore and pressed his fingers into the junction of her thighs, but her crossed legs kept him from reaching further.
