I can feel my cock straining against my pants as I open the car door for you. I had been teasing you all week, and tonight I plan to finish what I started.

I offer you my hand and help you out of the car. The touch of your soft skin is enough to make my heart melt. I look into your big, beautiful eyes and momentarily lose myself. Your silky black hair enraptures my attention and I imagine the intangible pleasure of sweeping it back behind your ear. A loose-fitting sweatshirt matches the dark shade of your hair. While you aren't insecure about your body, you don't flaunt it. I know the hot little minx that lies beneath the baggy sweatshirt. I'm only snapped out of my trance-like state when you use my hand for support and pull yourself out of the car.

I close the door behind you and look ahead at the theater in front of us. There haven't been any decent new releases in weeks, so the parking lot is relatively empty. I let you walk ahead of me, never letting go of my hand. I watch your ass sway with every step inside of your comfortably loose jeans. In my mind, I am visualizing your sexy legs devoid of the pesky pants. The thought only contributes to the swelling hardness tucked into my pants.

As we approach the door, I rush ahead and pull it open for you, letting go of your hand to do so. With a smile that makes me fall in love with you all over again, you strut through the door. I land a playful slap on your ass as you pass. Biting your lip ever so softly, you look back at me over your shoulder with a smirk that seems like imagery from a wet dream. I couldn't subdue my stiffening rod right now if my life depended on it.

My mind preoccupied with plans of what I'll do to you later tonight, I promptly order tickets to a dirty romance film. While I don't particularly care for the genre, we're not here for the movie. But, dressed in loose-fitting clothes designed for comfort, you wouldn't have guessed my intentions when we left the house.

Grabbing the tickets from the box office attendant, I take your hand and lead you into the theater. Being accustomed to my tradition of always getting popcorn, you hesitate as we pass concessions. You feel my hot breath on your ear. "You're the only snack I need tonight," I whisper with layered intentions. If not for your dark complexion, you would be blushing. The way your eyes light up at the comment warms my heart, but the heat doesn't stop at my chest.

I pull you close and give you a quick peck on the lips. Then I lead you into the theater.

As usual, the lights are dim, but the trailers have yet to begin. There is only one other couple in the auditorium so far, seated in the back row. Though they both are staring down at the glow of their cell phones, I can sense the sexual tension between them. They may think that they are being discreet, but it is all too obvious what they plan to do as soon as the film starts. I lead you to an arbitrarily selected row in the middle of the theater and we make our way down the seats, stopping randomly in the middle.

I raise the armrest and offer you the seat to my right. We sit and I put my right arm around your shoulders. You instictively snuggle up to me, placing your right hand on my chest and leaning into me. I could sit here and enjoy this all night, but I have other plans to fulfill.

I lean down and whisper in your ear, "The movie isn't the only reason we're here." You're too smart to have thought otherwise after you heard me order the tickets, but you look up at me and feign suprise, your adorable eyes capturing my attention once again. The movie has been out for weeks, and the critics were not overly pleased with the dirty imagery and oversexualization of the relationship between the two characters.

You slide your right hand down my chest and let it come to rest over my pulsating buldge. The familiar sensation of your hand over my swollen member reminds me just how submissive you are. While I let you rest your hand in my lap, you understand that there would be hell to pay if you try anything more. I watch a couple more moviegoers enter the auditorium while I enjoy your delicate touch. I let my hand droop down to your right breast and lovingly rest my hand there. I don't squeeze, but my touch reminds you that you are ultimately mine.

We remain in that position, awaiting the film. You're left to imagine all the things I might do to you in the darkness of the theater. Eventually, the lights go out and the previews begin to play. I finally give your breast a squeeze and you snuggle up to me tighter, feeling the monster inside my pants continue to grow. Being close to you is enough to turn me on, but touching you makes me go crazy. Still, however, I restrain myself. I'm eager to act on my plans, but I must wait until the movie starts.

As the opening credits flash onto the screen, I give your breast another tender squeeze. And then I stop. You patiently wait for a couple of scenes, but as soon as the male star takes off his shirt for the first time, you lose your patience. I feel your hand wrap around my buldge and squeeze. You know that such an umprompted act would usually land you in trouble, but tonight you're willing to risk it for the pleasure of my hand.

Surprisingly, I let you continue what you're doing. I lean back in my seat as I feel your hand rub all over my lap and squeeze with just enough pressure. I let my grip on your breast tighten. The familiar sensation comforts you, but you want more.

You try to introcuce a second hand onto my lap to undo my pants, but I remove my arm from your shoulder and take your wrists. I relocate your hands off of my lap and let them drop uncerimoniously. I push you off of me and readjust my posture. You're terrified that you really did something wrong, so you can't even try to focus on the movie. You sit there in anxious silence for a couple of scenes, letting your horniness begin to die off.

You've almost given up when you feel my hot breath on your ear. "Undo your pants," I whisper. "And nothing else." You're all too eager to follow my orders. You unbutton and unzip your pants and stare at me for further instructions. But I'm not looking at you. It's taking all of my willpower to keep my eyes off of you, but I'm staring at the screen.

The slow pace of my advance is driving you crazy, but you understand that I am very deliberate in my actions. If I tell you to do something, you had better comply. You're pondering this when you feel my hand move to your left thigh. Excitement courses through you at my simple touch, but you know that I'm not done just yet. You let my firm grip guide your leg over mine, spreading your legs wide. You slump in your seat to allow for easier access to your undone pants, but I'm not there yet.

Your leg is wrapped over mine, and I'm loving the control. I'm feigning interest at the horribly written movie, but all I'm thinking about is what I'm going to do to you. I rub your leg sensually. I can feel the pleasure coursing through you as I work my hand to the inside of your thigh.

I start to rub in longer strokes. progressing closer to your sopping wet jackpot with every rub. Each and every slow, deliberate rub sees my hand go higher and higher along your thigh. And every time I grow near to where you want me to be, I slow down and back off. My hand approaches your soaking pussy, but my approach slows as I move closer. Agonizingly making little progress, I quickly retreat my hand again and again. But each time I move closer.

You're trying to thrust your hips down to meet my hand by the time I actually let my hand rest between your legs. My pesence is driving you crazy, but there's nothing you can do about it. I can feel you squirming beneath my touch, trying to increase the friction on the waterfall between your legs. But I just leave my hand there, unmoving.

By the time a graphic sex scene plays on the screen in front of us, your body is begging for contact. I finally relent, deeply pressing my fingers against your pussy. Though your loose jeans muffles the sensation of the touch, you silently moan in pleasure. I've kept you pent up and teased for so long that you can already imagine yourself climaxing from my simple touch in the public theater. But I won't allow you that pleasure just yet.

I rub you vigorously over your pants for the reminder of the scene, but I stop as soon as the screen cuts to the next sequence. You toss back your head in frustration, and I smile at the thought of you being so worked up. I remove my hand from between your legs and wipe the slight dampness on your thigh. Subsequently, I rest my hand there, motionless. You can hardly sit still at this point. All you want is for me to give you pleasure. However, you also know that you aren't in charge in this situation. I'm the one in control and you will do as I wish.

Luckily for you, it isn't long before the main characters in the film begin to kiss again. You feel the excitement manifest deep within you as my hand slowly drags up your thigh. I make contact with your pussy as the characters retreat to the bedroom. I've read that the scene coming up, bringing a close to the movie, was hailed as being the most graphic in mainstream cinema to date, and I plan to take advantage of the feature critics claim is unsettlingly lewd and pornogrpahic.

You feel my hand slip inside your panties as the girl on screen is planted on the bed. You try to imagine yourself in her position, but you're so much more turned on by your current situation. I plunge two fingers inside of you as you toss back your head in pleasure. I apply pressure to your G-spot and you audibly moan your approval. Luckily for you, this sound is masked by the woman on screen doing the same.

I pick up the pace of my pumping as you close your eyes, trying incredibly hard to remain quiet. You're hardly aware of anything going on around you as you feel my fingers stimulate you repeatedly in your most pleasurable area. All you want to do is cum, but you know better than to do so without permission.

So, you just let the sensations build endlessly, losing all sense of time. I look over at your contorted face. I can tell that you are doing your very best to stay silent, but I can hear the whimpering escaping your lips. I lean over to you. "Do you like this, slut?"

All you can do is nod your approval as the words bring you ever closer to the edge of climactic orgasm. I pump faster and harder into you as you feel yourself going over the edge. You grasp for any hold you can find, but it's a pointless endeavor. It's physically painful to hold back, but you dedicate all of your willpower to the task. I keep pumping harder and harder while you squeeze your eyes tightly, immersed in the lands of overwhelming pleasure. I plant a quick kiss on your cheek, then bring my mouth over to your ear. "Cum."

That was the command that you were waiting for. Your hips buck wildly and you don't care who might see you. You let out the most violent orgasm you have ever experienced. You try to scream out in pleasure, but the sound is lost deep within you. You ride the high for as long as you can.

Sinking back into your seat, you finally open your eyes to see the end credits of the movie rolling. A quick glance around shows you that we are the last ones in the theater. I give you a minute to regain your composure. I don't say a word.

Once your heart returns to a reasonable pace, I help you to your feet. You can feel the wetness coating your thighs and you just pray that nobody will notice. Taking your hand, I lead you out of the darkened theater and into the warmly lit lobby. I notice that you are staring at your feet. I take your chin in my left hand and direct your gaze into my eyes. I kiss you deeply, and then relent.

We pass the first couple that was in the theater. The man's pants are all wrinkled and the girl's knees are covered in dirt. I smile silently to myself. I lead you to the car and open the door for you, offering my hand to aid you into the seat. You lovingly take it and descend into the familiar comfort of my car. I swiftly move around the hood to the driver's side and slide behind the wheel. At my touch, the engine purrs to life.

I look over at you and stare deeply into your beautiful eyes. "So," I begin, "you know that you're not supposed ot play with me without permission." I then confidently return my eyes to the windshield and pull away as the apprehension rises within you. "I guess I'll need to teach you a lesson about following orders, slut."