Entangled Desires
The theater was empty except for the two of them in the top row. The flickering screen cast a dim light, the tired projector clicking as the fuzzy image danced before them. They had not come to watch the film.
She was determined not to take no for an answer. He constantly tried to do what was right, but all she wanted was him. Sliding onto her knees in front of his seat, she tapped her fingers against his belt buckle, slowly undoing his pants. He shifted beneath her eager touch, his hands hovering, unsure whether to guide her or hold back.
“Here?” he asked nervously. In the glow of the film, she saw the flush spread across his cheeks.
“Here.” She echoed, a challenge in her tone.
She reached into his pants, pulling out his cock, already hard and waiting. A smile curled her lips as she licked them, savoring the moment before dipping her head over his lap. The first lick drew a groan from deep within his chest, a sound she craved to hear again and again.
She held the base of him, licking him like a popsicle, her tongue teasing up and down his length. He pressed a hand to his face, trying to hide just how much he was enjoying it. She pressed her lips around him, taking him deep until she gagged, eyes watering. His cock made her drool, and she eagerly licked it up before spitting on him with desperate fire. He tasted of salt, but it was the musky scent of his skin that drove her wild. His hands found their way to her shoulders, then her hair, flitting about, unsure how to enjoy himself.
She lifted her head with a deep gasp, a string of spit still connecting her lips to the tip of his cock. “I need you,” she moaned, before dragging her tongue beneath his shaft again. Suddenly, she stood, her head briefly obscuring the screen as the film flickered across her hungry eyes. She slipped her panties out from beneath her skirt and tossed them aside, crawling into his lap. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, his cock twitching as she straddled him.
He wanted her—God forgive him, he wanted her more than anything. She slid her hands over his shoulders, kissing him deeply. His grip on her waist tightened despite himself. He should have pulled away; he should have been responsible. But desire had overtaken him.
She bit her lip, reaching between them, her slender fingers wrapping around him. His heart was in his throat—things at home were good, but nothing like this—this was red-hot want. She perched herself up on her knees, pressing his cock to her entrance, then began to lower herself onto him. He gripped her hips, wanting to slow her down, but she was relentless. She pressed until she sat fully on him, deep inside. Her warmth wrapped tightly around him. Sweat trickled down his back as he surrendered to the craving within.
She began to ride him, bouncing on his lap, her moans filling the space between them. Her breasts swayed behind the thin fabric of her shirt. She caught him staring and quickly popped the buttons open, revealing her lacy brassiere. Pleasure drowned out everything else. The angel on his shoulder, warning him to stop, was now silenced.
“Oh, fucking God,” she groaned, arching her back as their bodies met. He gritted his teeth, holding his climax, wanting to feel more of her tightness. Despite his hesitation, he did not want it to end too soon.
She grabbed his hand, bringing it to her mouth—sucking one of his fingers between her pretty lips. Her lip gloss smeared across his skin as she pushed his hand down to her neck. Without a word, she wrapped his fingers around her throat and pressed on the sides—urging him to squeeze. He instantly did as she wanted, tightening his grip. Her body tensed around him, her smile growing as his thrusts became harder.
They were barely in the theater seat anymore, but perched on the edge, her body grinding against his as dust particles danced in the light of the film.
“Yes!” she cried. “Yes! Yes!”
His heartbeat synchronized with her moans of pleasure as heat pooled at the base of his spine. There was no undoing this moment; he had surrendered to his most basic desires. What was stopping them from meeting every week? Every day? The thought of her body against his, her eyes staring up at him, made him weak. She let out a strangled moan, throwing her head back as she came, her body tensing and shuddering from the force of it. The second he felt her peak, he hit his as well. His fingers tightened around her throat as he pushed intensely, groaning through clenched teeth, losing himself in the moment as he came inside her.
He leaned back into the chair, and she followed, her body lying limply against his, her head nestled against his shoulder. Still inside of her, with no protection, no forethought at all. She hummed against his neck happily, kissing along his jaw. He slid his fingers into her hair and pressed his cheek to hers, breathing in the smell of her shampoo.
He was hers now, just as a fly when captured in the spider’s web.
The theater was empty except for the two of them in the top row. The flickering screen cast a dim light, the tired projector clicking as the fuzzy image danced before them. They had not come to watch the film.
She was determined not to take no for an answer. He constantly tried to do what was right, but all she wanted was him. Sliding onto her knees in front of his seat, she tapped her fingers against his belt buckle, slowly undoing his pants. He shifted beneath her eager touch, his hands hovering, unsure whether to guide her or hold back.
“Here?” he asked nervously. In the glow of the film, she saw the flush spread across his cheeks.
“Here.” She echoed, a challenge in her tone.
She reached into his pants, pulling out his cock, already hard and waiting. A smile curled her lips as she licked them, savoring the moment before dipping her head over his lap. The first lick drew a groan from deep within his chest, a sound she craved to hear again and again.
She held the base of him, licking him like a popsicle, her tongue teasing up and down his length. He pressed a hand to his face, trying to hide just how much he was enjoying it. She pressed her lips around him, taking him deep until she gagged, eyes watering. His cock made her drool, and she eagerly licked it up before spitting on him with desperate fire. He tasted of salt, but it was the musky scent of his skin that drove her wild. His hands found their way to her shoulders, then her hair, flitting about, unsure how to enjoy himself.
She lifted her head with a deep gasp, a string of spit still connecting her lips to the tip of his cock. “I need you,” she moaned, before dragging her tongue beneath his shaft again. Suddenly, she stood, her head briefly obscuring the screen as the film flickered across her hungry eyes. She slipped her panties out from beneath her skirt and tossed them aside, crawling into his lap. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, his cock twitching as she straddled him.
He wanted her—God forgive him, he wanted her more than anything. She slid her hands over his shoulders, kissing him deeply. His grip on her waist tightened despite himself. He should have pulled away; he should have been responsible. But desire had overtaken him.
She bit her lip, reaching between them, her slender fingers wrapping around him. His heart was in his throat—things at home were good, but nothing like this—this was red-hot want. She perched herself up on her knees, pressing his cock to her entrance, then began to lower herself onto him. He gripped her hips, wanting to slow her down, but she was relentless. She pressed until she sat fully on him, deep inside. Her warmth wrapped tightly around him. Sweat trickled down his back as he surrendered to the craving within.
She began to ride him, bouncing on his lap, her moans filling the space between them. Her breasts swayed behind the thin fabric of her shirt. She caught him staring and quickly popped the buttons open, revealing her lacy brassiere. Pleasure drowned out everything else. The angel on his shoulder, warning him to stop, was now silenced.
“Oh, fucking God,” she groaned, arching her back as their bodies met. He gritted his teeth, holding his climax, wanting to feel more of her tightness. Despite his hesitation, he did not want it to end too soon.
She grabbed his hand, bringing it to her mouth—sucking one of his fingers between her pretty lips. Her lip gloss smeared across his skin as she pushed his hand down to her neck. Without a word, she wrapped his fingers around her throat and pressed on the sides—urging him to squeeze. He instantly did as she wanted, tightening his grip. Her body tensed around him, her smile growing as his thrusts became harder.
They were barely in the theater seat anymore, but perched on the edge, her body grinding against his as dust particles danced in the light of the film.
“Yes!” she cried. “Yes! Yes!”
His heartbeat synchronized with her moans of pleasure as heat pooled at the base of his spine. There was no undoing this moment; he had surrendered to his most basic desires. What was stopping them from meeting every week? Every day? The thought of her body against his, her eyes staring up at him, made him weak. She let out a strangled moan, throwing her head back as she came, her body tensing and shuddering from the force of it. The second he felt her peak, he hit his as well. His fingers tightened around her throat as he pushed intensely, groaning through clenched teeth, losing himself in the moment as he came inside her.
He leaned back into the chair, and she followed, her body lying limply against his, her head nestled against his shoulder. Still inside of her, with no protection, no forethought at all. She hummed against his neck happily, kissing along his jaw. He slid his fingers into her hair and pressed his cheek to hers, breathing in the smell of her shampoo.
He was hers now, just as a fly when captured in the spider’s web.
