Cinema Lock-In

Once again we're on the motorway heading east for London, and for home this time. We'd been back to our old West Country haunts for a break, the boys were having a spell with the grandparents, and we were basking in nostalgia. It seemed an age since we'd last enjoyed this sort of outing. It was on a house hunting expedition when Guy's job moved to the east, and we were now replaying the highs of what had then been a lot of very naughty fun. It was just a handful of years ago in reality but the freedom we'd had seemed aeons past as we'd afterwards flopped back into the routines of work and childcare.

That story was told from Guy's viewpoint. This is my turn. We're both now in our later thirties. Guy's always been a bit of a voyeur, and really a one woman man. He loves to watch. I'm his complement, being an exhibitionist who loves the chase, and a bit of variety to spice things up. We can both trace our sexual preferences to incidents in our formative years, but suffice to say we're very happy together and plan to remain that way. While I'm pretty catholic in my sexual tastes, and ready to give anything a try, the high spot that nearly always features when I'm playing with myself, while reading a dirty story for example or fantasising about some bloke I've got my eye on, is the moment the cock enters my dripping eager cunt, pushing the lips apart and sliding in to fill me up. I'm getting wet right now thinking about it. And about what we're heading for today.

Guy had suggested yesterday that we might pop by The Great Auk, a small blue movie cinema in east London. We'd stopped there those few years ago, and greatly enjoyed a really disgraceful afternoon.

"It might not be open anymore," he said. "The internet's changed everything. I could ring and find out, but it might be more fun to try on the fly. I'm sure we'll think of something else if it's a bummer."

"I better dress accordingly then!" I'd replied, and this morning when I was repacking I'd selected a nice white lacy bra that showed off my not inconsiderable cleavage and a button-up low cut white blouse with short sleeves -- nice for the truckies -- retro white suspenders with a wide top and full straps, a white lace frilled slip -- the lads like to see a bit of lace under the skirt too -- a dark blue velvet suit with a skirt just above the knee cut full rather than skin hugging, and darkish but not black stockings. Guy smiled approvingly when he held the car door for me as we were setting out. I gave him the usual flash as I backed into the seat. "Nice frenchies," he observed, and went round to take us off to town.

The morning traffic was busy, but once we'd passed the intersection with the M4 east of the bridge things settled down. For a spell Guy was able to take his time easing past the trucks in the slow lane and I had my skirt hitched up a wee bit and the seat reclined a mite. We got a couple of hoots and some appreciative light flashes. And I was having a nice little dribble too.

A lot of the fun, in fact most of it in some ways, is the anticipation. So by the time you're sitting back opening your legs a little and sliding the skirt up, just a few inches, not too much to be obvious, things are already getting quite dampish. The excitement when the car passes a mark just takes things to the next level. And it's fleeting. The whole thing about well-executed exhibitionism is to make it seem as if it could be accidental. And leave them guessing. It's a different game if you're on the prowl using your assets to entice some guy you'd like to bed, but that's not for playing on the motorway.

We stopped for coffee at Leigh Delamere.

"You haven't lost your touch," said Guy. "In fact the boobs are a bit fuller now, and all the more alluring for it."

"You mean I'm fat," I retorted.

"Curvaceous! Gorgeously curvaceous, my dear."

"Oily bastard."

We were through the doors and orientating ourselves. "I'll take a pee first," I said.

Guy nodded and we agreed to meet back in the servery queue. Guy ordered his usual long black with added caffeine but I went for a latte with patterns. We trundled over to a table by the windows and sat companionably eying Britain go about its business.

"We've had a good breakfast and we'll be in east London around midday so I suggest we check out the Auk then and have a light snack later if we're peckish," he suggested.

"So you're putting me on a diet then. No curry. How am I to stay curvaceous without grub?"

"We can go out for a curry tonight if you like. The Auk probably won't be open and we're not in a hurry. We don't have to go back to work until next week. And today meantime we could grab a pie and park up on the way out of town if you'd like."

I gave him a mollifying pout and left it at that.

Later, on the way out, he handed me the keys and said, "I'll see you at the car. I won't be a tick," and headed back into the throng.

Shortly afterwards he reappeared at the car and tossed a packet at me as he got in.

"Get your laughing gear round that," he said as he turned the key and off we went.

"Egg-mayo on brown. Perfect. All is forgiven."

He opted for the Cheshire Cat look of a man who had never done anything that needed forgiving. I forgave him that too and got on with the sarnie. Then I got out the map and readied myself to get us out of London in the right direction. GPS systems were still not commonplace and we certainly didn't have one. Guy turned out to be right on the timing and we were parked on a side street near the Auk, just like last time, at around ten to twelve.

We walked round the corner and crossed the street to the same nondescript façade with a sign above reading The Great Auk. I tried the door. To our surprise it opened and we found ourselves in the small foyer area which doubled as one of the projection rooms. It was lit but there was nobody there. We glanced at each other, and Guy, who was slightly behind me, made to peek past the red curtain.

"This is odd. The lights are on and it looks empty." We went past the curtain and stood looking at the big white screen and rows of empty upturned seats.

"Is anybody here?" Guy called, the seats softening his manly bellow a little so it didn't sound too accusing. Lucky, I thought.

There were some distant rumblings and the door to the downstairs theatre opened. A tall well-built chap around our age with short cut mousy hair in a grey shirt and smart open waistcoat appeared. He wore dark slim cut trousers showing off a good looking package and a big smile broke out across his tanned face when he spotted us. I remembered him too. Nice.

"Good morning lady and gentleman," he said in a perfect east London accent. "What's occurring?"

"We were hoping you'd still be open for business. My husband Guy was a regular on occasions we were moving, and I enjoyed my one visit a while back," I replied. "I'm Jo, by the way."

"I'm Jeff. I'd say nice to meet you, but we've met before. As I recall you were enthusiastic patrons. We quite liked those."

He paused, sizing us up. "We are in the process of closing down. We kept going for a good while as VHS replaced film but the ubiquity of household players and the rising popularity of the internet just made the thing uneconomic." He let this hang in the air.

Guy took a moment, then filled the silence. "I guess that makes it thank you, goodbye and good luck?"

But he didn't turn to leave, so we all just stood there. A tableau waiting to come alive. I was enjoying the view, and nurturing unhealthy thoughts. Jeff was obviously turning things over, but to what end we couldn't divine.

"Are you guys in a hurry?"

"No," I said. "We were planning to relax in your plush red seats for a couple of hours or so." I waved an arm at the empty upturned collection. Plush was overegging, but what the hell.

"I could go and have a chat with John. He's downstairs tidying up. We've boxed up all the kit from there, but we haven't done up here yet, and we've still got all the tapes. We could lock-up so as not to be disturbed and run a special show for you up here. Would you be up for that?"

"Would we ever?" said Guy. I nodded, with a big happy grin to help things along. I could swear the package I'd been admiring had grown a bit while he was making his pitch.

Jeff turned. "Follow me."

So we did. He took us down past the toilets and motioned us to a door ahead, after the stairs to the lower theatre. "I'll go down and roust John out. In there's the "staff room" with coffee and biscuits. Make yourselves at home while we get things sorted."

The enclave had a sort of musty undertone saying it was a man-space the men didn't dust very often, but it was tidy, the sofas looked solid, and the filter coffee jug on the table was full. There was a milk carton, two packets of ginger bix, one open, and clean mugs and spoons. We looked at each other.

"This could be interesting," observed Guy. "I suspect they may want to be involved."

"I'm counting on it," I replied.

"Cock hungry, are we?"

"What on earth made you think that? I do confess to a trace of dampness in the nethers, though."

He handed me a mug of coffee and a couple of biscuits. "You mean you're soaking already."

I dropped down onto the sofa opposite him, hitching my skirt up a little and crossing one leg over the other to display my knickers and so on.

"I thought so. That's a darker gusset than usual I'd say. I do love it when you get a wet patch." He munched on his biscuit and we sat there quietly while he enjoyed the view and I enjoyed providing it.

After about ten minutes Jeff poked his head in. "Come and meet John. Bring your mugs."

We returned to the main theatre. John was leaning on a seat at the start of a middle row. He had on a tidy but worn grey suit. He was shorter and proportionately smaller than Jeff, around Guy's size, with dark hair and a thin well cut face. Older than Jeff by a few years. "Hi, I remember you folks. We've sorted things out for you and we suggest you sit in the middle of the back row; makes it a bit more intimate that way. Jeff may not have mentioned but once we've got things running we'd like to join you if that's OK?"

"John likes to watch. A bit of a voyeur is John," Jeff explained. "Me, I'm more of a hands on type."

"And very nice hands they look too," I replied. "Guy's another watcher. I'm more on the suck it and see side. And if it's something I don't like it gets spat out pronto."

"Excellent. John, you get things rolling. I'll lead the way down the row, and if you'd follow me Jo, then Guy. John can dim the lights once we're comfy. Leave the mugs on that shelf." He waved at a usefully placed nook in the wall which had once probably held usher's kit, and then we made our way back and left to sit as he had suggested.

"You haven't still got that Demis Roussos tape, have you?" asked Guy. I looked at Jeff and gave him the eye roll.

"We do. Unless Jo has a rival request!"

"No. That's fine. I won't be watching the music."

"Demis Roussos too, John," he bellowed. And then the lights dimmed. It was pretty damn dark, the emergency exit and toilet signs providing the only lighting in the theatre, plus a small dull patch of light from the gap in the curtain to our left. Then "Lovely Sunny Days" broke out and Guy seemed to relax in his seat. "Magic. The perfect partner to porn. Takes me right back..."

My full skirt allowed me to open my legs, and I'd pulled it up as I sat with the lace slip frill showing until that was just below the dark band on my stockings. No need to start out too rampant, despite my feelings. Guy's knee had swung over for company as he relaxed. Jeff's was hard over already, which I could put down to space. He was the type of chap business class worked for. For shorter folks like Guy and I it was a waste of money. Convenient though, the cramped space for Jeff that is. But I kept myself restrained to within an inch or so either side. Upping the anticipation rating is my policy.

Then, with no preamble whatsoever, the screen was filled with partially dressed cock-sucking hetero couples. Chaps were laying on their backs in a meadow and the ladies were on all fours administering to them. The ladies still had their knickers on and one chap was feeling his partner's gusset, his arm out and fingers gently stroking as she bobbed up and down on his shaft. As this was the upstairs "silent show" there was no need to exert brainpower trying to discover or follow a plot. It was just soak up the imagery. One of the ladies who had been operating from the side changed to a 69 position and peeled her knickers down so they were stretched over the fellow's chest and then began to pee on his chest, neck and face. He looked to be really pleased about this and drank deep.

I noticed the curtain move out of the corner of my eye and turned to see John making his way along the row in front. He stopped at the seat just before Guy and put a cushion on the arm so he was sideways on and could enjoy both the show on the screen and the show he expected to come in the row behind. The rows were staggered in normal theatre style so each seat in the row in front was between the two seats in the row behind it. John seemed to like the view of my legs more than the one on the big screen, which was flattering if unsurprising. He was moving his tongue across his lips in that unconscious way men do when they're quietly ogling. I enjoy being ogled. I always wonder how the stiffy is doing, and what it might be like if the ogler got to poke it up me.

By now the chap who'd been peed on was kneeling behind his lady friend and was giving her a portion, as a certain West Country stand-up would say. The other chap was still ground based and was being ridden enthusiastically. There seemed to be a watcher in the nearby shrubbery armed with binoculars. He was wearing the stereotypical mac, totally out of place on such a sunny day, and was fumbling with his fly. He let the glasses drop on their strap and applied two hands to the job. It became clear why this was necessary as a truly massive erection reared out and stood proudly sunning itself.

I silently applauded the dribble inducing close-up camera work, and involuntarily opened my legs fully against my two companions' knees.

The spontaneous reaction caught them both by surprise but I soon had a hand on each knee and then both began stroking the inside of my stockinged leg as if both arms were owned by the same person. John's mouth was open, his right hand gripping the edge of the seat in front of Guy and myself, and his gaze transfixed on the gently moving hands. The lads were taking their time. It's a great moment, taking us girls back to the old days in a car or back row of an ordinary cinema, when it was all new, we were damp with desire and had made the decision to see what happened instead of fighting the buggers off. This was the right bloke, so we thought at the time. Of course, he usually wasn't -- but that didn't stop it being wildly exciting. And that's how I felt just now. It was just the four of us, not a cinema full. It was private. And I was getting beside myself with pent up need.

The guy with the massive dick began stroking himself as the two lads disengaged from their partners and began rubbing their cocks frantically. The chap behind his lass shot first and covered her arse with several ropes, followed closely by the guy on his back who hit his girl's tits from below. Wow! Then the camera flashed back to the big one as it erupted. The shot had the spunk flying towards the camera as if it would hit us in the eyes. I was holding the seat arms and thrusting gently in the chair praying for one of the boys to get to my cunt, and winced just before the scene dissolved to resume in a blue movie cinema as a couple of ladies in black dresses were taking their seats at the front of a bank of rows.

They started off with legs crossed but then, as the camera was showing, they both opened them a little to give the view between. The one on the left of screen opened wider confirming she had on black knickers, but the one on the right was bareback. The ladies were exchanging glances and remarks. The guy to the left and next to the knickered lady was fondling himself through his trousers and looking suggestively at her. On the right the guy closest moved seats to sit next to madam bareback. He put his hand on her knee. She took it off. But on the left the guy was making progress, his hand sliding up the inside leg towards her knickers unhindered. Chaps all around were taking their cocks out as things developed. The lady on the right took this as a signal and didn't resist as her admirer tried again. She opened her legs as he started probing her, the same happening on the left as her guy got inside her knicks. And Jeff got inside mine.

I was awash, and surprised by a big finger sliding inside me then emerging soaked as Jeff began on my clit. I couldn't help myself, involuntarily upping my thrusting in response. Guy kept stroking my leg, letting Jeff do the business. On screen things were hotting up but I was focused on my core desire. And of course, the locals had the drop on me. They knew what was coming on screen. Soon cocks were being openly stroked and the ladies each had a hand on their neighbour's. A chap in the row behind moved towards the lady on the left, proffering his cock as she licked her lips in anticipation. And so I reached across for Jeff's bulge and found something large and solid under my stroking fingers. I leant across towards him.

"Get it out," I whispered, in a voice laden with need. He undid his trousers, pushed them down a bit and fished it out from his jockeys. It sprung up like a power pole and suddenly I was grasping a splendid chunk of hot stiff meat.

"I think you may have mentioned sucking?" In answer I got up, knelt on the seat and went down on him. And I whisked my skirt and slip up while doing so, giving Guy easy access to my soaking gusset. He needed no prompting and began rubbing my clitoral area through my knickers. I'd noticed John had his cock out already while Guy was still stroking himself though his trousers with his free hand, and I could see out of the corner of my eye the lady on the right had turned and presented her arse to her admirer while sucking another's cock. Her admirer probed her cunt with his cock and then slipped it in. That's what I could do with, I thought.

I came up for air, slipped off the seat, which flipped up, and moved in front of Jeff, bending over the seat in front of him after hitching the skirt and slip right up and shoving my knickers down to half-mast.

"Put that thing in, but slowly. I want to savour your gorgeous head gently opening me up. Take your time," I urged.

John and Guy moved across to keep up with the action. Guy would now get the best view of a large cock slowly filling his wife's cunt. I knew that might have sent him over the edge, but he was making sure he didn't overstimulate himself and fire too soon. John, on the other hand, was rubbing his cock vigorously and now had it pointing towards my suspended tits. I felt Jeff's fingers probe again and open me ready, and then that lovely head prodded the sodden flaps apart and lodged in the hungry opening. It was heaven. I resisted the urge to push back and just stood still, watching the action playing out in front of me while savouring what was being offered behind.

"Go on. Slide it in. As far as you can. Slowly.'

Jeff did. It filled me up and then went on stretching my insides when I thought it was all in but wasn't until I felt I'd been assaulted by a caber. Good thing I'd had a couple of kids, I thought. It was wonderful. I looked at Guy. He was smiling broadly. He knew I was having fun, and he was right where he liked to be. John was still wanking busily. He couldn't last.