"It's this song," Bix started resting a hand on Eric's thigh. "It's called Tech Noir. It's by this Synthwave band."
Eric's brow creased. "What's Synthwave?" the movie played in the background letting Kurt Russel's know-it-all swagger fill the room.
"It's this sort of future-retro music I've been jiving too. Anyway, this song has John Carpenter doing the intro. John, fucking, Carpenter."
Bix's voice grew punchy with excitement as she spoke. "He's in the intro doing this sorta' end of days farewell bit." She tossed her hair back and looked at Eric, who was hanging on to her every word.
"Is it any good?" He asked.
"It's pretty good," she smiled. "But I didn't believe it was him. I had to look it up to be sure."
"Well, he's a musician too," Eric added. "He has his own band now."
"Really?" Bix asked. "I wonder what they sound like?"
Before Eric could answer, she slowly began to rub her palm up and down his thigh. He laughed a laugh a nervous, jittery laugh. It didn't take long for Bix to notice the budding strain in his jeans.
"Is this because of me?" She asked in a honeyed tone. "Or was it all the John Carpenter talk?"
"Bit of both." He answered through a half-smile. She moved to unzip his fly, but Eric put a hand over hers, barring her path to seduction.
"You sure you want to do this?"
"Do what?" She asked with a wisp of defiance in her voice. "I just having a look." She flung his hand away and worked his jeans open until his cock was free.
She traced his length with playful fingers and was pleased that he was hard enough to cut diamonds.
"Sorry," he said. "I haven't been like this in a long time."
What did that mean? Was he embarrassed? Was he cock shy? She stroked him lightly, letting each question sink to the bottom of her mind. She was too distracted by how thick he felt in her hand.
Eric watched her work stroke him off for a moment before letting his head fall back on the couch. "We shouldn't be doing this. I'm old enough to be your..." But the rest of his speech died in his mouth.
Bix imagined a handful of men filming them she stroked his cock and studied Eric's face. She liked how he twitched in her grip. She loved how his nostrils flared as his breathing became rough and excited. They'd make a hot couple on film.
A year ago, it was hard for Bix to imagine she was the reason for anyone's hard-on. Most guys her age didn't look her way, and Bix knew why. She was lean, with squarish knees. Her body was almost boyish with barely a handful of tits or ass to compliment. She didn't have the curvy hips of an Instagram model. She didn't meet the body standards of what Millennial guys wanted.
Then on a whim, she'd started swiping right on older men, and pow, she was Princess Jasmine, singing A Whole New World! She met a man with flecks of grey in his trim bear and flint colored eyes. It didn't hurt that he looked a little like Kurt Russel.
In the Hotel room, he picked her up and tossed her on the bed with a grizzly smile that made Bix feel a torrid desire all over her body. She'd been nervous, but he was experienced and teased her with foreplay and filthy little promises in her ear until anticipation pulled taut around her waist. Bix all but gave herself over to him.
There'd been several older men since then. Men who collard her, and cuffed her. Men who tied her up and bound her. Men who ate her until she couldn't take it, and men who used her mouth until her jaw ached. Men who lifted her up, pushed her down, and carried her as if Bix were a dollop of a plaything for them to do as they saw fit.
Eric wasn't quite as old as some of them, but he did have that rugged swagger that made her swoon a little. It helped that he'd shared a love of movies, especially John Carpenter movies.
They'd gushed over his body horror masterpiece "The thing," And how it was under-appreciated at the time of its release. How cool it was that it was finally getting the recognition it deserved. Then Eric suggested they watched his favorite Carpenter film: Big Trouble In Little China.
Bix leaped at the idea, already knowing they wouldn't finish the movie. Eric seemed gentle, almost hesitant after she'd said yes. Bix thought she might have to tease a little roughness out of him.
A week later she showed up at his door in jeans shorts and a black "directed by John Carpenter" shirt. Eric smiled when he saw her and Bix pretended not to notice the bulge in his trousers.
"Stop," Eric Grunted.
"Stop? Why?" As if to spite him, Bix let a stream of spit cascaded down onto his cock before stroking him faster. "You said I could have a look."
Eric moaned and twitched a little while Bix felt his cock throb between her fingers.
"You're doing more than just looking." Eric mewled, but she kept stroking him faster and faster until her hand was a blur. She watched with a sunny glee as his pre-cum spilled down and coated her fingers. Then, Eric's body tense next to her.
"Bridgette!" He called, and she stopped mid-stroke, surprised to hear her full first name. Eric didn't seem to notice. He flexed his hips and pumped his cock into her hand as if it were a fleshlight. Then he came, and the strength of his climax came out in thick alabaster ropes.
"Yes!" Her voice took on that Honeyed tone again. "Cum for me!" She said before erupting into a burst of champagne giggles. The sight of her influence sharpened her arousal to a fine point.
She decided that she couldn't stop there, and without a word, she stood up and pulled off her jeans. A moment later, she mounted him.
His cock had lost some of its vigor, but she was pleased to feel that it wasn't entirely down for the count. She didn't slide his cock inside but instead rocked her hips up and down Eric's length. The slick sensation of his cock sliding between her pussy lips felt lovely and made Bix feel like a slutty horse jockey.
"This is too much," Eric muttered under his breath.
She leaned down and asked, "Am I too much for you?" When he didn't answer, Bix felt a smug little smile spread over her face. She rocked her hips harder into him in a cruel tease. His labor roughened hands track down Bix's body until they rested on her thighs. He guided her gently, not wanting to restrict or overpower her. Instead, he seemed content to play the role more of a masturbation toy, and less of her lover.
Bix closed her eyes and saw the film crew again. In her mind, The room filled with the scent of her excitement, and she imagined each of them silently sniffing and taking her in. Then one by one, their cocks grew hard just behind the camera.
She ground her hips hard and fast, galloping towards own slippery climax. Eric's hands felt good on her, and his breath in her ear made her heart race.
