The Hitchhiker rsquo s Guide to Theater Sex
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The Hitchhiker's Guide To Theater Sex free porn video
Copyright © 2003 The Thinking Horndog
It was Friday night, and I had no options, so out of boredom, I went off to visit the local adult entertainment complex. Disdaining books and movies on the shelf, I immediately approached the counter for a theater ticket. The transaction was soon completed, and I joined the ebb and flow entering the theater.
Inside, the usual group was occupying the back row and the open space behind it, this area offering the most privacy, and somewhat screened from the entry. There were a couple of guys visibly jerking off standing behind the seats, and one denizen seated at the end of the row was delivering a blowjob by the simple expedient of turning his head toward the fellow standing to his left.
I decided that I would settle for this action later, if I had to, and examined my environs with eyes slowly adjusting to the low light from the screen, where a young blonde was being anally penetrated, cowgirl style, by a fellow seated in a chair. After a bit of examination, I discovered two heads close together in the seats. Pulse quickening, I ambled closer to examine the situation.
Jackpot! A couple! They were seated in the traditional position, at the left end of the row, the male on the aisle. I made my move, inserting myself in a seat in the same row, leaving one open seat between us.
The woman examined me fearfully, and the male withdrew his hand from her blouse. I took the opportunity to obtain an impression of them. The woman was in her mid to late thirties, a bit heavy (quite a bit, maybe) and sweet- faced. The male appeared older, maybe late forties, and not tremendously robust. The woman fetched me another fearful look, which I returned enigmatically. "I'm relatively innocuous," I whispered hoarsely, just loud enough to be heard over the moans of the movie soundtrack, "Go on with what you're doing."
"B-but... Are you gonna watch?" she blurted.
I decided to take the bull by the horns, "Sweetheart, if you wanted your show to be private, you'd have rented a video and taken it home. You came here because you wanted the theater experience -- a big part of which is other people! Right?"
The woman exchanged glances with her escort, and after a short pause, nodded.
"Okay, then," I continued. "Have you two ever done this before?" A head shake -- no. "Would you like a quick class in the rules of the road?" I smiled engagingly.
The pair exchanged glances again, and the male grunted. The woman looked back at me and nodded assent, still very fearful. I decided to press my luck. "I can talk from here, but it would cause less commotion if I sat there," I said, pointing to the seat between us. "I'll keep my hands to myself, and move back after."
This triggered a whispered conference, and I became worried that I'd gone too far -- but they came to agreement, and the male grunted, "Okay." I got the impression that the woman had argued the 'for' position, which augured well for the evening.
I shifted closer, and picked up a subtle hint of perfume, and another familiar smell -- feminine arousal. Cool! "Okay, first thing: Honey, you can relax. Some of the people here are only interested in boys, and could care less -- but those who like women are proud of you and want you to have a good time! You're very brave to come here and we all applaud that! To us, you represent proof that there really ARE girls out there who like sex, and we're happy to have you here!"
I looked into wide eyes. The woman drew a shaky breath, "Really?"
"Sure! Moreover, you're perfectly safe, here -- no one will do anything with you that you don't allow. If someone tries and you raise a ruckus, twenty guys will hop out of their seats and pound on the offender -- guaranteed. Chivalry isn't dead -- particularly in places like this. Take me, for example," I tried to look innocuous, something usually not to difficult. "How could I expect to present myself to you as a viable sexual partner if I let some moron mess with you? You'd be out of here, and any opportunity would be lost! So it's an exercise in self-interest; anybody who wants to interact with you in any way -- even just watch -- will take action to protect you if you're in distress!"
From the rapt expressions, I could see I had their attention, so I went on. Turning my attention to the male, I declared, "Control of the situation is YOUR department!"
"Huh?" he grunted.
"Okay, we're a bit ahead of things, because I'm sitting here -- I'll come back to that -- but the bottom line is that YOU control the situation," I explained. "Other men will look to you for guidance in what is allowed and what is not. I'm sitting here, too, and I'm considered an invited guest -- but I have no say. Only YOU do! If you wave someone off, he'll back off. If he doesn't, and you make an issue of it, others -- especially others involved -- will support you."
He nodded, and the woman looked more comfortable. "Now," I continued, "Let's talk about etiquette. Even if you sit here looking uptight, you're going to attract a certain amount of attention. Guys will take up seats all around you, trying to get a look at what's going on."
"Why?" the woman asked.
"Because observing the real thing, however poorly, is better than watching a movie," I replied. "Add to that the distinct possibility that you might allow some level of participation, and the issue becomes pretty clear. Most of us -- me included -- hunger just to touch a woman. Anything - rubbing her neck, or thigh -- just holding her hand while she orgasms is better than nothing at all. An opportunity to help in any way is gravy."
"Wow! Don't they care that I'm..." she waved at herself.
"I've seen all shapes and sizes, ages -- young guys might stay away from a really old woman, but there are old guys in here, too -- LOTS of them! This is a haven of the really desperate male -- looks don't matter squat if you're female." I replied, continuing, "I'm being brutally honest, here." An older guy slid into a seat diagonally in front of the woman, directly in front of me. "See? We really need to get on to etiquette -- we're farther along than you realize."
"Okay, go ahead," the man rasped.
I too a breath, and continued, "Okay, as I said, you're going to attract some attention. Initially, everybody is going to be circumspect, especially if there is no visible activity, and you're just sitting there like a lump, clutching your purse!" I grinned to take the sting out of it. "Virtually no one will occupy this seat directly, although it's what they're ALL angling for."
"No?" the woman asked, eyebrows raised.
"No," I confirmed. "It's considered bad manners. I actually approached you in the most direct manner that you should have to tolerate. One seat away, or two, for more timid souls, is the usual start point. I started at one, because two is out of all reach, and having to move in one seat telegraphs your intentions quite a bit. THIS" I indicated my seat beside her "is the seat of the invited guest. Inviting someone to sit here indicates you're approachable. I mentioned this before -- it's why you're now getting more attention. I'm sitting here; therefore I was invited. That means you're not pretending to be uninterested in company, which makes you more of a draw."
I turned to the man. "If someone plops down here directly, without you reaching some kind of understanding first, move! He'll get the hint. If he follows, make an issue of it, and someone will help you eject him. And whoever it is will be pissed, because he'll assume the moron ruined things for everybody! Dig?"
"I get it."
I returned my attention to the woman. "Okay, assuming that you do something visible, you're going to draw a few people. They'll sit in front, behind you, or one over. In a place like this, where the aisle is along the wall, somebody might even lean against the wall to watch, although I'd expect that not to happen unless things were really busy in your seat! You can avoid that by going to a place that has three tiers of seating and sitting in the center tier. Basically, the more that is going on, the more attention you'll gather."
I again turned to the man. "Once again, you're in control. If things get too hot, you can LITERALLY reach in and indicate who can stay and who must leave. Somebody gets to grabby or too nosy, you eject them from the game, just like an umpire!"
The man blinked. "Damn!"
"But the flip side is also true," I pointed out. "If you fail to take exception at something, it WILL continue! She can probably stop it -- but she will have less control, largely because she is the target. You need to be proactive in fixing problems."
"How far can it go?" the woman husked.
"Pretty far," I admitted. "One time I happened upon a little blonde riding her boyfriend in the seat while blowing another guy and jacking off a third. She had a guy turned backward in the seat in front of her working on her tits! I was too late to get in on that one. Basically everybody was crowded around, watching, and she COULD have pulled a train, but her boyfriend called it after he got his nut."
"Wow!" the woman gasped.
"That's unusual, though," I admitted. "Usually, one or two guys get to help out, and it's limited by clothing and such. Let's say one to masturbate you and one to play with your tits, or suck on your neck and rub your back while your man services your titties. Maybe you jack one of 'em off. If they're lucky, you choose one or two to take home... But that happens less often than anyone would like."
Rough talk had created pink spots on the woman's cheeks. "You don't mind if I speak plainly, do you?" I asked, knowing the answer.
"N-no!" she responded, weakly.
"Okay," I continued, "Let's talk about the approach."
"The approach?" The woman looked blank.
"Sure!" I replied. "I've already noted that nobody should just move in, so, obviously, there has to be an approach! Now if a guy sits here," I indicated the seat beside me that I had initially occupied, "Or two over," I pointed to the next seat, "he's gonna have high hopes of blocking out others, but he doesn't REALLY have much to work with. If he's two seats over, he's basically limited to blatantly watching and hoping for an invite, or moving over one and trying for contact." I hopped up and moved momentarily to my original seat. "From here, contact is possible. First, I casually drape my arm on the seat back," I demonstrated, "Then I go for touch." Again, I demonstrated, drawing fingers along her shoulder. "He'll try to make it casual, so if you don't like it he can claim it was accidental. But it won't be, and he'll get braver and braver, until you take notice, one way or another."
"What if I flinch away?" she asked.
"That's a setback. It might stop him cold, situation depending -- but if you're showing signs of real arousal, it probably won't," I replied. "If you encourage him, he'll move here," I slid back into the seat beside her, "and work carefully on becoming more familiar. This is a classic," I put my arm on the seat arm between us, then casually allowed it to droop until it was in contact with her outer thigh. Her eyes, watching the hand, grew round. "Next, I gradually acquire more territory," I gently slid my hand up and down her thigh, working inward. "By this point, if you do nothing it constitutes an invitation -- wouldn't you agree?" I smiled into her eyes.
"Uhhh..." I was getting the full 'deer in the headlights' look, at this point, so I went on. "Basically, the next thing I'd expect if we got this far is that you would scrunch down a bit and open your thighs." She actually made to do it, then stopped herself. Before she could turn a glare on me, I nonchalantly removed my hand, which provided just the right amount of confusion. "As I said, though, one seat over isn't the world's best start point. Personally, I prefer the one this fellow is in." I waved at the occupant of the seat ahead of me. "This is a prime location. While looking is pretty obvious, contact is actually easier, using a variation of the arm on the back of the seat dodge," The fellow, who had obviously been listening, turned to look at us. "Why don't you demonstrate?" I asked.
The guy was 40, balding, and somewhat fat. He looked nervously at both of them, got a frowning nod from the male, and proceeded to drape his arm over the back of the seat, where it could come into play with her knee easily. "See?" I noted, "If played properly, little fingers run right up your inner thigh in no time. This trick can also be run from the seat in front of you man, but it's more risky. Tell 'em why." I directed the bald intruder.
"I can't see the man," he grunted, withdrawing his hand.
"Correct!" I approved, turning my attention to the man. "Physically, he would be in good position for her, but you're out of his sight. And since he's messing with your woman... Well, you get the picture!"
"Yeah!" the man exclaimed quietly.
"Note that the seat directly in front of our lady here is a poor position," I pointed out. "This is probably a good thing, if she's actually watching the movie. However, if he gets the green light and the action gets heavy, the guy on the diagonal might move there to work directly over the seat back." At this point, baldy totally lost his nerve and moved away, cherishing his quick touch, no doubt. For a moment, I felt bad... But the show goes on...
"Similarly," I continued pedantically, hopping up and going over the seat back to settle in the seat behind, "the seats in the next row have their pros and cons. Pro is the fact that the diagonals offer the most unimpeded view without being totally obvious," I demonstrated, sitting up and peering into the woman's lap. "Con would be that you're not in the normal visual field, so you can go unnoticed and miss out on the action. On the other hand, if you DO get the green light," I drew my finger down the woman's neck, then slid my hand down to quickly cup a breast, "it's a good place to work on the upper half from." The woman gasped, but I was gone -- again. The man watched me, but I thought I detected a hint of approval...
I slid back into the adjoining seat. "That's the approach," I concluded. "The forthright will ask for permission, at some point -- but not always, 'cause we're shy, too. Eventually, we'll get brave enough to do anything you don't object to."
But I wasn't done! "On to clothing!" I announced. "May I?" The woman nodded, and I felt her up, unashamedly. She was wearing jeans and a white blouse which buttoned down the front -- gaping a bit. I reached in, watching her, and ran my hand over her bra. "Okay," I began, "some poor choices. Jeans suck. You can't get out of them - and you DAMN sure can't get back in! -- without guys in the thirty second row knowing they missed something! The blouse is okay, but I think you've already discovered that the bra is a bad choice. If you wear one, make sure it opens from the front! Probably better is a sports bra, or a halter. You can wear a coat or jacket over a halter, and no one will know until you take it off -- but you can flip down the top, and everybody's happy!" I ran a hand along her leg. "Jeans, are tight. They're a bitch. Better to wear stretch pants, or a track suit -- something with an elastic waistband. Best is a skirt, preferably wrap-around, and NO PANTIES! That makes life easier for everyone! Racy nylons and a garter belt are optional..." I grinned, looking her over. "What kind of shoes are you wearing?"
"Sandals!" she replied.
"Good choice," I approved, "especially if you're gonna turn out in jeans! Boots or something would make a tough job impossible! And running shoes would be a bitch!"
The woman was absorbing every word, so I decided it was time to take my life in my hands. I addressed the man: "How were you gonna handle tonight?" He shrugged; they were so deep in problem solving that the zinger I was about to slide them would probably pass. I assumed a tone of resignation. "Okay," I sighed, "got her coat? We'll need it!" He just nodded, collecting it from the seat arm. "Put it back," I directed, "We won't need it until after..." I turned to the woman, "Okay, Sweetheart, unzip and raise up a bit in your seat. Your man, here, and I are gonna grab your belt loops and jean tops and try to shuck them to your knees in one pass, okay?"
"Okay," she nodded and busied herself with belts and fasteners. I heard a zip, and sat there, marveling. Hell, this was going to work!
"Ready?" I asked the man. He was already working on a grip. "Go for the back and the side, and the front will take care if itself!" I advised. "Raise up, Sweetheart! One... Two... Three!" I tugged at one side of her jeans, he took the other, and we got them halfway down her thighs before they bunched too much. I continued, businesslike, "Okay, let's clear the bunching by getting the excess down over her calves! Don't lean forward too much, though -- it'll make things obvious!" I worked her right leg, and he her left, until the jeans were puddle around her ankles. "Okay, Sweetheart, I'm gonna put my foot in the crotch of your jeans -- you kick your sandals off and pull your feet free, one at a time!" Then I proceeded to get an eyeful of her furry crotch, while directing, "We need the coat, now..." I placed the foot, and she wriggled free; I couldn't fucking believe it! I'd gotten her to shuck her jeans without REALLY thinking about it! "There, isn't that better?" I asked innocently.
Only then did she stop and take stock of the situation, realizing that she was naked from the waist down in a seat between her man and a stranger. "Uh, yeah..." she murmured, weakly.
I busied myself solicitously placing her coat over her exposed lap -- but left a hand possessively grasping the inside of her right thigh, just above the knee. I looked up, into her eyes, and waited...
It took a second. She shook off the distraction of the adjustments, coped with the basic embarrassment, pondered my gaze for a moment -- and the light went on. But her eyes twinkled, and the corners of her mouth turned up as she murmured, "Arthur, we've been had!"
Arthur turned his patented glare on me as he leaned in. I ducked my head and looked impish. "Only over the jeans thing," I chuckled, "Everything else was straight up! I just couldn't resist."
"How am I gonna get my jeans back on?" she asked, but she didn't sound or look angry, so...
"You're gonna need help," I chuckled.
The man -- Arthur -- hissed, "What's this all about?" but the woman quelled him with a hand on his knee.
I answered anyway, "I took advantage of your interest to lead you to commit yourselves."
"And he's trying to ensure that he stays in the guest seat!" she murmured, but her hand slid up and down the forearm I had buried under her coat gently, without any attempt at removal.
"I DO have a certain investment in the situation," I pointed out diffidently.
Arthur engaged his woman's eyes, but she granted permission with a slight nod, and he settled back. Encouraged, I began a gentle attack on our woman's inner right thigh. Her breathing picked up; I sensed tension, but not a lot of fear. "That's it Sweetheart," I murmured gently, "Relax and enjoy. What are you here for, anyway?" She settled a bit, sighing, and her knees came further apart -- I was in like Flynn!
I sensed a slight tension as she held back, evaluation whether to tell me the truth or not, then she relaxed, and I got a version of it, at least. "I need... more," she husked, "and Arthur is looking for... different..."
My ears pricked up (pardon the pun), and I said "Oh?" I reached across with my right hand to engage her chest -- damned bra! "What's Arthur want?"
I watched her eyes. She couldn't get it out, but it excited her. "You know..." she murmured.
"No, I don't," I admitted, behind a raised eyebrow as I reassessed things. "But we might be in the wrong spot!"
"Hmmm?" she murmured, but I ignored her for the moment -- the conversation would take place across her chest, after all.
I released her covered tit and crooked a finger at Arthur. He leaned in and we got down to business, "Arthur, give me a hand with this damned truss!" I hauled on a bra cup. "Sweetheart, can you lean up? Arthur, see if you can get your hand under the back of her blouse and do the one-handed opening thing, will you?" While he was decisively engaged, I pursued the primary issue: "Arthur, uh," I stopped and addressed our woman who was holding herself up by hands on the seat arms, "I can continue to call you Sweetheart all night, but sometimes in conversation..."
There was a quiet snap, and she settled back. "It's Doris," she murmured.
"Bobby," I returned. "C'mon back, Arthur! We need to talk!" I urged and Arthur paused. Directing my attention to Doris, I asked, "Sweetheart, can you do that under the blouse removal thing you girls do?"
"Tough in long sleeves, she murmured, "I've got big cups!"
"Yes, you do!" I approved. She shrugged and began unbuttoning her blouse cuffs. "Arthur, Doris tells me that you're here to get some attention of your own -- some male attention! That true?"
"It's Art," he mumbled, "Doris only calls me Arthur when I'm in trouble..."
"Yeah, I get called Robert under those circumstances," I commiserated. "Back to the question: You looking for some male attention?"
I caught his blush even in the dimness. "Yeah," he mumbled.
"Okay, what are you looking for? A blowjob? Maybe giving one? Something more intense?"
"I'm... open..." he replied. I took a really good look at him, while my hands took in Doris' reaction. Obviously, she was excited by the idea. And I could handle it if I needed to...
"All right," I announced, "this is a new situation! And we're in the wrong spot!"
"Huh?" I got from both of them.
"Okay, look," I explained, "This is the standard position for a straight couple -- but if Art wants any attention at all, it's no good! We need to move over two seats!"
"Why?" Doris asked.
"Well, to be fair, he IS approachable via the aisle, but it's generally not done," I explained. "The assumption is that if he sits on the aisle guarding you, he's straight. We need to move over, so anyone who takes him on will have a seat to work from. As it is, things will be difficult... It's hard for him to garner any attention with you here."
I locked eyes with Art. "Okay," he agreed. Doris nodded, too.
"Okay, we're going to move two seats -- but one at a time! Doris has to stay low, for obvious reasons..." I directed. I snagged her jeans with my foot and transferred them to my outside hand, then breathed in her ear, "I've got your pants..."
Doris was a sport and played along. "You gonna give then back?"
"Maybe!" I teased. "What're you gonna give ME?"
Her hand dropped into my lap. "I'll think of something," she promised, while finding the iron bar of my erection. "Oooo! I'm getting ideas already!"
I chuckled. "Okay, let's move!" Both of them nodded and we quickly hopped over one seat, Doris staying low so her bare ass just cleared the seat arm. "And again!" Having repeated the maneuver, we settled in. I returned my attention to Art. "Okay, Art, it's like this: If you're going to draw your own attention, you're gonna need to handle your own action, if you know what I mean -- and basically NOT mess with Doris! I'll take over as watchdog, and I'll use you for backup -- but basically, you're independent! Got me!"
"I think so," he murmured vaguely.
I sighed, "Look, you're going to need to advertise. Take your meat out and beat it enough to get it going good. That will likely get someone to come by and at least help beat you off -- probably get you a blowjob, which is about all you'll get in the seats. You can give as well as get, if you care to, and a willingness to try will usually clinch things."
"If you're looking for some ass, however," I added, "You need to go back there where those guys are standing and find yourself a partner."
Doris was loving this. My hand, which was running through her pubes gently, was well lubricated with her secretions, and the nipples cresting her big fat titties were visibly hard and distended, viewed through the open front of her blouse. I was having no trouble finding her clit, either; it was already swollen in arousal. She hissed in a breath as I granted it its first attention of the evening. She was seriously getting off on the discussion over her partner having gay sex!
"I don't know if I can do that!" Art confided, "I'm still kinda nervous! Besides, Doris couldn't see it..."
"Yeah, that's big, isn't it, Baby?" I nuzzled Doris' neck. She flinched away from the tickling touch, but nodded. Then she came back for more.
"Well, I can fix it, later, if you'd like," I offered. "In the meantime, we'll work on getting you some head!"
Doris had started taking in big gulps of air through her nose, and was gently caressing my cock. I slid a finger into her liquid depths, and a sigh bubbled out of her. She settled a bit in the seat to grant me more access, and then she let her hair down. "That's soooo nice," she murmured, squeezing my cock. "Art's not big... I want a big one..."
I smiled and nuzzled her neck. I'm not John Holmes, but I have a VERY firm cock, nicely shaped, that tops out at about 7 1⁄2 inches. In my experience, that's more than plenty -- anyone ever exposed to it has been pleased, and on more than one occasion, I couldn't be properly accommodated by a woman; the movie legends must have a harder time of it than it seems... I glanced over at Art, who was working his, and discovered about 5 inches, somewhat gnarled, with a big head.
"Art's acting chicken," Doris continued. Now that she was comfortable, it was all coming out. "He wants to take it..." Up the ass was a given, I decided. "I want to suck his cock while I watch someone doing him."
"Ummm, that's a tall order for in here," I disparaged, "Best thing to do here is to get through the warmup and select a couple of likely looking candidates to take home."
"No?" she murmured, disappointed, "I thought anything goes!"
"Well, it's possible, Sweetheart, but you'd be the center attraction for the whole place! We'd have to move right down front; the seats just don't allow that kind of access! If we went down front, you'd be VERY exposed, and no one would be watching the movie! It's a situation you might lose control of, and end up pulling a train -- Art, too!" Nonetheless, I could see that the idea excited her. "You should take things one step at a time right now," I advised. "Next time, you can come properly dressed... Management -- or the cops - might pop in during a commotion like the one we're talking about; you'd need to be able to get decent quickly."
"Oh," she murmured, accepting it. I decided to throw her a bone. "We can still get the job done, outside..." I slid out of my seat and leaned across her, low, to take a surprised Arthur into my mouth for a few strokes. Doris managed to recapture my cock in her hand during the procedure, and was shaking from the excitement of watching the show. I pulled back and returned to my seat then, gambling, kissed her as I slid two fingers into her swampy depths. As I slipped my tongue into her mouth, she grabbed me and threw a cycle of three rolling shudders and I felt her pussy pulse around my fingers. Yeah, she was into it all right. That explained the choice in movies, too -- as I'd glanced up, the blonde was licking one guy's balls and frigging herself while the guy pounded another boy's ass.
Kierra
- 02.05.2020
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