She knew what was on my mind. Thenight was going well.We arrived at the theater minutes before the show began -- no waiting inline. We ran giggling from the car towards the door. Thoughts of Gene Kellysinging and dancing to "Singing in the Rain" filled my mind. The moviewasn't part of my history -- it was made thirty years before I was born --but, hey, if you want to get laid you better know the classics; girls lovethat shit. I twirled Sheryl and began singing and dancing, poorly. Shelaughed."Excuse me."The last thing I wanted was an interruption. I looked at the speaker. Somesoaked rug rat of a kid with a "Mister can I borrow a dime" expression onhis face. "Fuck!" I thought, "not now!" I managed to keep Sheryl movingtoward the theater entrance, quickly retrieved a buck from my pocket andshoved it in the hand of the would-be attention grabber. OK, no harm done. Ihad shown compassion by giving the kid money and now we could enjoy themovie, right? Wrong. He was there with us in the. And if nothing else, the window I was facing was large enough that any passing cars looking up would've seen the movement of his hand groping me underneath my shirt, and the look of pure ecstasy on my face. This was obscene...His other hand removed itself from the railing briefly, and he pulled his cock back away from my hand. I reached back, eager to feel his length again, only to be pleasantly surprised by the feel of him undoing his fly. In moments, the velvety feel of the skin of his hot cock met my hand, and I let out a soft coo of appreciation. Nothing felt more arousing to me than the hefty feel a stiff cock, and I eagerly wrapped my hand around it. The temptation to hit my knees was powerful, but that would be far too obvious and we'd be in trouble for sure, so instead I did my best to stroke him, given the awkward position. His breath heaved in my ear again, momentarily burying his face into my hair. That only sent another surge of tingling arousal through my body, there was.
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