Based on a real woman’s fantasy, this short erotic story takes us to a sensual session at the movies…
I wriggled back and forth in my seat, gazing up at the couple in front of me. The way their bodies were moving together, the way their skin seemed to melt together, their moans, their gasps, those linked hands, linked bodies…
I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene unfolding in front of me. It had been far too long since I’d had a chance to experience that kind of lust – since I’d split with my last ex nearly six months before, and politely sworn off men for life. Or at least until I could find one who made me come again. I had tried to convince myself that I wasn’t craving sex, or anyone, really, that I could strike out into the world all by myself and prove my success as an independent woman. That was what these weekly solo cinema trips had been in aid of – dates for myself, self-care, an indulgence for me and me alone. But, as I watched those bodies grinding on the enormous screen in front of me, I knew that I needed…something.
I slipped out of my seat and ducked down the stairs that led to the bathroom in the small, retro cinema that I attended every week. It had been open for decades and usually showed some pretty interesting movies – in this case, an arthouse classic that seemed to be about forty percent writhing flesh and the sound of a man letting out those long, low growls of want. It had been a long time since I’d heard them. And it had turned me on more than I could handle.
I would steal off to the bathroom and slip my hand into my panties and relieve myself, make it so I could actually focus on the plot once more.
Even though my own fingers were hardly the relief I needed, they would have to do, since that was all I had access…
Something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. I whipped around, feeling as though I had been caught in the act of something, and realized that I was standing next to the projector’s booth. A small window allowed the flicker of the old-fashioned projector to escape – that must have been what caught my eye. I was about to move on and continue to the bathroom when I saw something else that made me stop in my tracks.
The projectionist. A man, a little older than me – dark hair, a strong jaw, arms that were toned but not bulging – his eyes were fixed to the screen, and I could see his hand moving just below my line of sight. My jaw dropped. Was he…?
It was just then that he looked up at me, and our eyes locked, and I knew that he had seen me. He stopped what he was doing, and strode over to the door that divided us. My heart was racing. He’d had just the same reaction as me…
He pulled the door open. He looked even better without the pane of glass between us. I let my eyes travel down his body – I could see the bulge in his pants, and I felt that heat grow even more intense.
“Can I help you?” He asked. I let my gaze land back on his face.
“Yeah,” I replied. “I think you can.”
And with that, I stepped over the threshold, pushed the door shut behind me, and pressed my body against his.
He didn’t need any further invitation; at once, his hand was enmeshed in my hair as he kissed me for the first time – the foreplay had been that film, shared between us, and we were both more than ready to take it further.
He wasted no time; already hard, he pushed up the hem of my dress and let it drape over my hips, reaching between my legs to rip off my underwear in one shift motion. I grabbed his hand and guided it to my wetness, letting him feel me, feel how ready I was for this. He moved his mouth to my neck as he dipped his fingers inside of me, teasing me…
And then, just like that, he whipped me around so that I was leaning on the projection counter, able to see the gorgeous sex scene that had gotten me into this state play out in front of me.
He ran his hands over my ass, squeezing his fingers into my flesh, and he let out that growl – that growl that had driven me crazy through speakers, and made me even hotter in person.
I heard the rip of a condom and then the pressure of his length sliding inside of me. I gasped, the sounds melding with the ones coming from the screen in front of us. But this sensation was anything but celluloid. He held my hips tight as he moved into me, taking me hard, not holding back, just like the man on the screen in front of us was doing. Seeing that reflection of us in front of me just made it all the sexier – I could feel every moment, take in every sensation.
I began to move back against him, rolling my hips towards him and taking him in deeper. I didn’t even know this man’s name, it struck me suddenly – and I didn’t care one little bit. Right now, we didn’t need names. We needed passion, feeling, we needed to play these roles for each other.
I could feel myself arching closer to the release that I needed so badly – the mix of the actual sensation mixed with the visual stimulation was more than I could take. I pressed my hands to glass in front of me for leverage and watched the woman on the screen before me. I felt her last gasps, that clenching of her muscles, the ache, the burning need…and then the release. As I came at exactly the same time as he did.