Theater Hi-jinks

Theater Hi-jinks

We settled in for the movie, knowing that it would never leave us calm. I knew that once the on-screen action heated up, so would you. Not to be disappointed, I saw your jaw go slack unconsciously. You probably didn't notice how your hand slid softly from one thigh to the other, pausing briefly on your warm mound. You were suddenly jarred to awareness when my hand closed over yours in the middle of that trip, folding your fingers beneath mine over the ridge of your warmth. Your gasp was hidden by the soundtrack of the movie. Your eyes shifted quickly to mine. I met them with a wry smile curling at the corner of my mouth before returning my attention to the screen.

But my hand lingered, my fingers pressing yours firmly over the thick material of your jeans. I could tell by the quickened pace of your breathing, that you were wishing as I was that nothing was separating our fingers from your soft plump lips. Your body stiffened as I gently brushed your hand aside and you felt me fumble with the stud at our waist. When you felt rather than heard the zipper slide down, you reacted by lifting your hips, straightening the pathway for the plastic teeth to complete their parting decent the joint that forbade it going any further. By the time my fingers cupped the soft cotton of your panties, they were already soaked in anticipation. Your legs parted slowly as though trying not to draw attention in the darkness, even though there was no one in our row and the teen girls a few rows ahead were completely enthralled with the spectacle on the screen.

I felt your lips separate beneath my touch, further spreading your honey on your drenched panties. The subtle rocking of your hips in response to my touch betrayed your approval of my explorations. The cool air of the theater was soothing to the fire billowing in your loins when I lifted the material between your thighs and pushed it to the side. You moaned in disappointment when instead of taking advantage of the new-found freedom, you felt my hand move totally away. You only risked a side-ward glance as you saw me withdraw something from my jacket pocket. A brief brightening of the movie screen reflected off the pink surface as it vanished between your legs. Confirming our suspicions, the cool silicone glided easily between your drenched lips before I pushed the bulk of it inside of you.

You braced for what was coming next as you watched me withdraw my phone, turn down the brightness, and open the app. You clenched your teeth and the nails from your hand bit into the firm muscle of my forearm as the first tingle of vibrations surged through you. My thumb slid across the phone screen, varying the intensity of the vibrations, making you squirm in your seat. I thought for a moment that your nails would draw blood when I pushed the control to maximum and quickly pulsed it there in syncopated rhythm. The thought that you actually might be both scary and exciting at once.

Your body tensed and relaxed in alignment with my adjusting of the pulses. I could not help but imagine my now throbbing cock mimicking the sensations inside you as I made the toy edge you closer and closer to cumming. But that would come later when we were home. Even though you wanted physical contact with me, you released my arm and transferred your frustrations to the arm of the seat as though you were also afraid of marking me with red. I wanted to applaud your constraint of being quiet, knowing that we both love the free expression of our pleasure in vocalizations of moans and growls - words and sighs. Some did escape through gritted teeth, but you timed it well with either dialogue or music from the movie. When the scene before us moved to a sexual nature, you lost it, your moans of orgasm blending perfectly in time with that of the actors. Nice cover. But when we get home, there will be no need for restraint, on the free release of the passion that, despite your cumming, was just the beginning. I didn't put away my phone until the closing credits made it necessary to return the adjustments of your clothes to a state that would not alert or alarm the other leaving patrons. But from your trembling thighs at having cum multiple times, I knew it best to wait until most had left the theater before you rose into a shaky stance.

Ahh, the ride home would seem like forever, but the time will definitely be rewarded.

My back is your canvas. If there are no physical reminders the next day, it wasn't real.

Riding High

Jake had spoken incessantly about his family's ranch and how I should visit. The trip there was insane. We were driving for an ungodly amount of time over verdant, rolling terrain. When I asked when we would arrive at the ranch, he replied with a chuckle, “We've been on it for twenty minutes.” For a lifelong city dweller whose experience was that if you had a backyard big enough for a pool, it doubled the price of the house. This much acreage was incomprehensible.

We pulled up to a paddock with a square footage equal to my city block. We exited the truck and leaned on the fence railing. “Here comes little sis now. Watch this,” he said directing my attention in the direction of the barn at the west end. Suddenly, a calf sprang from an enclosure. In hot pursuit was “little sis.” That was certainly a misnomer.

I had anticipated a physique similar to Jake's, whose medium build was hardly outstanding. Instead, little sis could only be described as … voluptuous! Sitting astride a massive stallion in hot pursuit of the calf, she dwarfed anyone that I would consider little. She had lain the reigns on the horn of the saddle and both hands were occupied with a long rope, the loop of which she twirled above her head. Long curly light brown, waist-length hair flowed like a banner from beneath a Western hat. At first, it seemed that the horse was simply trained to follow the fleeing calf. Upon closer examination, I noted that subtle shifts in her weight and prodding of her knees on the horse's side were actually directing its course. She let loose the lasso and the calf collapsed in a cloud of dust, dutifully bound within seconds.

“Come on,” Jake said. “Let me show you to the guest accommodations. It's a loft apartment above one of the barns, but don't worry, it is decked out to your tastes. You won't notice it's location at all.” He was not mistaken. Furnished in a typical Western style, it looked like an ad from a magazine. “I'll have Sarah bring you up fresh linens. Everyone showers after a hard day of ranching before dinner, so you might as well do the same.”

I threw my backpack on the bed and settled into a plush chair of speckled cowhide, which was extremely comfortable. The door opened and in strode Sarah. Without even an introduction, she laid a stack of towels on an end table. She flashed what seemed to be a smile which shone only in her brilliant green eyes and said, “All the showers at the main house are occupied, so I'll use yours if you don't mind.” It was not a request despite the curtesy, as she began to shed her dusty clothes before reaching the bathroom door. She didn't bother to close the bathroom door as double D breasts appeared when the unnecessary bra hit the floor and she stepped into the shower.

I picked my jaw up off the floor, shook my head, and thought, “Open spaces aren't the only thing different out here.” My mind was awash with contrary thoughts. What would Jake say if he knew what she had just done? Is this normal in the country? What if. My thoughts trailed off into an abyss. I can't think of such things. Moving to the bed, I lay with my eyes closed. OK, I'm not even going to look anymore. I'll keep them closed until she leaves.

The water stopped and I waited what seemed an appropriate amount of time for her to gather her things and leave. I heard a subtle shuffle across the carpet and chanced a glance to see if she was leaving. Instead, she stood next to the bed, wrapped in a very insufficient towel.

“Jake has spoken a lot about you. You know, boy's bar talk. Some of the things he's said have me curious, having never experienced them myself, so I thought you being so close with him, you could help me out.”

Once more, it was less of a question than a command as the towel dropped to the floor she, lifted one knee to the bed and was above me before I could utter a protest. Would I have ordered a protest? I'll never know. Without a further word, she made her inquiry known by straddling my shoulders. My eyes flashed to her center. She was wet, but not from the shower. I watched as her hand slid through a neatly trimmed patch of hair and settled at the top of her slit. A single fingertip caressed her clit and the flow of moisture on her pussy lips increased substantially. Her beautiful green eyes were locked on mine, gauging my reactions, but not caring what they were if they contradicted what she wanted.

Slowly she lowered herself toward my mouth. Reflexively, my lips parted in acceptance. The first touch of the silk-lined lips felt like a tender mother's kiss, but what followed was far less paternal. She took care to brush her labia against my mouth, guiding them sensually up and down my mouth. The aroma of her juices was intoxicating. With a euphoric relinquishment to the situation, my tongue shot out, splitting the nether lips. Immediately, my lips were coated with her nectar. I ran my tongue over my lips, savoring the taste of the clear liquid ambrosia.

I reached my arms over her thighs to pull her close. Her thighs rippled with the conditioning earned from labor and horse riding. She used both hands to spread her pussy lips and was inundated with her juices flowing over her soft lips. I searched out her clit, danced my tongue over it, sucked her labia into my mouth, and sucked the juices from them. She reacted by pressing her clit against my tongue, at first not moving, but then her hips took up a well-rehearsed rhythm, learned from years of braking stallions, but now she was breaking me, grinding, sliding her clit over the tip of my tongue.

I reached back to grasp the cheeks of her ass. They were taunt with power, yet plush with sensuality as my fingers pressed in, pulling her firmly against my mouth. I was hypnotized by the undulations of her hips, swirling, grinding, thrusting against my tongue. What began as minor murmurs from her lips swelled into a symphony of moans and gasps as she could only be described as fucking my mouth. She fell forward, grasped the top of the headboard, and continued her frantic race to orgasm at the expense of my mouth.

First came the shudders, coursing through those powerful thighs. Her breath hitched in her throat, her back locked in a curl, and my mouth was sprayed with her squirt of orgasm. When she could breathe again, it came in fractured gasps, groping for air to fill her lungs as her juices filled my mouth. She fell off my chest at a ninety-degree angle to me, her massive breasts heaving in release.

“Well, what those women reported to my brother about your skills were no exaggerations! I just had to know for myself.”

I don't know if I was more disturbed that Jake had discussed my sex life with his sister, or her boldness at not asking if I was up for the experience.

She rolled off me and the bed and sprang to her clothes with the same speed with which she had secured the stray calf. Turning back to me she said nonchalantly, “Dinner is in 30. You should probably get that shower now.”

And with that, she was gone.

Ride my tongue until you squirt in my mouth?

Yes, please!

Anywhere, anytime

...then attention it shall get!

Baby, can you give us a little tease of your pussy after such a nice description?

take this for now <3