Wicked Wednesday: At the Movies

I sent her an e-mail letting her know that I was on my way.  She might not have seen a text message until she was leaving work to come home, but I knew she'd get my e-mail right away.

She replied immediately.  She was excited.  So was I.  We hadn't seen each other in days, and while every instinct we possessed dictated that we immediately find a quiet place to indulve the unbridled passion we both felt, we wanted to enjoy a night out.  Soon, our opportunities to do so would be limited.

We found ourselves at a nearby movie theater.  The movie we saw is unimportant, and long since forgotten.  What is important, however, is the fact that we were the only ones there.  We arrived at an empty auditorium, and spent the twenty minutes before showtime watching the entrance with much greater attention than the screen.

We had naughtiness on our minds.  Why not?  We always do.  The thought of a little pre-show hanky panky was appealing, but we were certain that the moment things began to happen, the theater would fill with popcorn-munching, soda-slurping moviegoers who would quickly ruin our fun.

It never happened.  The lights dimmed, the trailers played, and the movie started, all without so much as an incursion from another human being.  We were well into the first act when it became clear that we had the theater to ourselves, and that there was no ignoring our desperate physical need.

Jill opened my jeans and fished out my cock, watching it rise to full size in her grasp.  As she pumped her fist up and down along its length, it occurred to me that the school where she worked was less than a mile away.  Granted, we were alone in the theater.  But what if we were wrong?  If we only thought we were alone, and we really weren't, there would be repercussions.

These thoughts left my head as Jill leaned close and I felt her lips envelop me.  Her mouth was warm, her tongue damp.  She slowly slid down, swallowing me to my base.  She lingered there for one exquisite moment, and when she came up for air she swapped mouth for hand and resumed pumping.

My attention had already turned away from the movie, moreso when Jill got out of her seat and knelt in front of me.  Rather than squinting through the shadows to watch her head bob up and down, I tried to focus on the movie.  It was too late; I wasn't into it anymore.  Instead I concentrated on how good my wife's mouth felt on me, certain it wouldn't be long before I was cumming down her throat.

When something near the theater entrance caught my eye, I tensed up.  Jill could sense it, and she stopped what she was doing.  She looked up, her eyes meeting mine in the darkness.  She didn't speak.

"Get up," I said.  "Hurry.  Sit back down."  She did, and as I put my still-throbbing cock back into my pants and buckled my belt, I could see that she was staring at the door where I'd seen whatever it was that had made me tense up.

"Did someone come in?" she asked, her voice tiny, barely a whisper.

"I don't think so," I said.  She moved to open my jeans again, and I dissuaded her.  I pulled up her skirt, somehow unsurprised by her lack of panties.  She was wet, her arousal a welcoming scent. My fingers parted her lips, holding her open as my thumb found its way to her clit.  As I stroked her, my fingers slipped inside, finding a molten reservoir of lust.

My fingers reached her G-spot as my thumb circled her clit.  Jill threw back her head, gasping with pleasure.  She bit her lip to keep from crying out as I pressed into that familiar mass of flesh, the one that had all too often unlocked the most intense orgasms imaginable.  Her fingers dug into the armrests on her seat, squeezing as though her life hung in the balance.

When she came, when the torrent of her essence came gushing forth, I was surprised, if only because she had managed to keep fairly silent.  She drenched not only my forearm, but also quite a bit of her skirt as well.  I couldn't help but muse that if anyone had entered the theater, we'd put on a much better show than whatever was playing on the screen.

"You want to...", Jill began when she could speak once again.  I thought she was going to ask if I wanted her to finish what she'd begun with me.  She started over:  "You want to switch seats?"  We moved to the seats directly in front of us, and continued to watch the movie as best we could.  It wasn't easy.  Our minds were on something much different.

As for whether or not anyone had walked in, we're pretty sure no one had, but it doesn't matter.  In the more than two years since this incident occurred, nothing ever came of it.

This week's prompt: ...I sent him (her) an e-mail...