Copyright © 2003 The Thinking Horndog
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit is forbidden. Any distribution must include this note and the author's email address. Don't be caught attempting to make a buck off me!
Warnings and disclaimers:
This is adult entertainment! Be warned! If you're not into graphic depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you! If you're too young to be legally reading this, move along!
This is a work of fiction. It is not intended to reflect any particular person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form solely in the writer's imagination. You get the idea.
Content: M+F M+M Public Oral Anal Con NC/Reluc
While I write about these issues freely, I don't necessarily advocate or condone any of it. Similarly, while I throw a sop to protection, the attention paid is realistically sloppy. I certainly DON'T recommend that YOU take your life in your hands!
This is my first complete work. You'll find my e-mail address on asstr.org; please feel free to offer constructive criticism (remember, I've read extensively from the site, so don't beat me up too bad - I know my competition!), or even (blush) an occasional compliment...
Having said all that, I wrote this to educate, as well as entertain. If you've ever frequented such places as the one I describe here, you know that periodically couples come there -- and many of them are variations on scared to death -- for absolutely no reason! Or they show up and pretend to expect to be ignored, which is equally stupid. If you take your woman to an adult theater, the pair of you should expect to be watched, as an absolute minimum -- only a fool would delude him/herself otherwise. If this story makes one woman comfortable enough to let her hair down and enjoy herself in an adult theater, it's done it's job. Similarly, if it eases the mind of one male who is contemplating bringing his woman into that environment for a little excitement, I'll be happy. Enjoy!
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.
Doris let go her death grip and exclaimed, "I can't believe you just did that!" eyes shining.
I shrugged. "While I prefer girls, about two to one, I'm bisexual," I replied. "You almost have to be when you look like I do and are as highly sexed. (I'm mildly geeky looking, not a girl's first choice when she looks around a room). I can handle your fantasy -- AND Art's! Besides, we've been acting weird; people will stay away unless they see something overt. This way, I kind of advertised for Art..."
I worked, too! A black kid, young, but kind of heavy, slid into the seat ahead of Art on the off side. Obviously, he wanted to take in the whole show -- but he was more interested in cock... I leaned across Doris, and asked Art quietly, "Got anything against blacks?"
"Uhhh..." Art was thinking about it.
I sweetened the pot: "Blacks have the softest mouths -- Heavenly!"
Art's eyes widened, "Really?"
"Oh, yeah!" I insisted. Doris, listening in, was getting excited again. I took a fat nipple in my mouth for a second, then directed, "Be obvious. Slide your pants down and work it slowly. Give him the eye. You, too, Doris. Let him know you want to watch."
The kid turned around to scope things, and found us all looking, which scared him a bit, so he snapped his eyes back -- but I watched him start working up his courage for the second pass. "Sweetheart, if he meets your eyes, flash a look at Art's equipment. I'm pretty sure it's what he's here for, and it'll help with his confidence. I'm gonna pretend to ignore him."
"Okay!" she panted. I took her nipple in again -- it was rock hard, chewy. She groaned. I had two fingers in her and my thumb rotating on her clit; as the kid took his second look, her hips began to roll in the seat. I knew that she'd followed instructions, because I watched the kid's eyes drop into Art's lap, where they stayed. I watched the kid relax, and then tense as his arm draped over the seat back.
"If he catches your eye again, look at Art's cock and nod," I directed. "He'll take it, then. In this situation, you're controlling access to Art!" Turning my attention to Art, I whispered, "Meet his eyes..."
The extended arm drifted off the seatback, settling toward Art's right knee, as predicted. Art held still and let it happen. Doris started puffing like a steam engine. "Easy, Sweetheart -- wait for it! Art's home free! When the kid looks, give him the seat with your eyes."
Doris was shaking like a leaf, watching the black kid's hand moving slowly up Art's leg. With my eyes, I motioned for Art to slide forward and make it easy on the kid. Art slouched forward and watched the hand, sighing a bit as the fingers began to take possession of his cock. The kid, gratified, swung around, first locking eyes with Doris, then with Art. He swung back to me, and I winked, indicating the seat next to Art. The kid glanced at the seat, then at Doris, who nodded. Seconds later, the kid got up and circled around the row. He didn't even bother to lower the seat, going to his knees in the floor and sucking Art in. Art gave a big sigh and relaxed, and Doris moaned and started soaking my fingers. I stuck my thumb in her mouth to give her something to do to keep from getting too loud, and rode it out. She convulsed about six times, then her hand dropped to my wrist, letting me know that she needed a respite. "God, that was good!" she sighed. Her hand went back to my cock, but her attention was on Art and the kid, which was okay with me, for the moment -- might even work out... I got to thinking about it, and decided we might as well go for broke. I caught Doris' eye, "Why don't you pet him?"
Her eyes popped, then she reached out with her left hand and began caressing the kid's neck.
Art, who was basically in Heaven, roused a bit. "Art," I hissed.
Art raised up a bit, holding the kid in place with his left forearm. "Yeah?"
"This could work out well," I opined, "Why don't you pet him down lower -- see if he'll let you play with his ass?"
Art flashed me a look of gratitude, and started rubbing the kid's back, working lower and lower. The kid only seemed to work harder. Doris momentarily removed her hand from my cock to pull at my wrist, letting me know I could resume frigging her, never removing her hand from the kid's head and neck, her eyes locked on the action. I grinned -- a way to up the ante had occurred to me, but I'd wait a bit...
In the meantime, someone settled into the seat behind Doris. I checked him out -- a wiry, tough-looking character with a graying brush cut. He looked to be about 50. I considered him, but did nothing; personally, I felt that taking that seat immediately indicated that the guy was probably going to be pushy, especially since he made a point of sitting right up and going for the over the shoulder view between Art and Doris.
Doris noticed him first; Art was engrossed. She glanced over at me, and I shrugged, and whispered, "Want me to run him off? Or we can see if he plays nice..." She considered a bit, then shrugged, still watching me nervously. "It'll be okay," I assured her. She relaxed and leaned her head on my shoulder, watching the action in Art's seat. I watched the new guy. I'd taken an instant dislike to him, but I was trying to be fair about it, ensuring that it wasn't just jealousy. Moments later, big hands came up, first onto the seatback, then onto Doris' shoulders. She raised her head to facilitate his movements, and very quickly, he had a fat breast in either hand. I held Doris' eyes until she nodded, then concentrated on her cunt, surrendering her breasts to the new guy.
Art and the kid were actively engaged; Art was definitely sweeping his hand all over the kid's ass, and he wasn't complaining at all. I started working on a third finger in Doris; I suspected that I would be fisting her before the evening was out. Doris' attention was fixed on the byplay in Art's lap, and she was gasping again as I tickled her right ear with my tongue.
Then she flinched. I backed off to assess the situation -- what had I done? But she flinched again, and I wasn't moving anything. Whatthefuck? She flinched again, and I determined that the accompanying grimace coincided with some action by the new arrival on her breasts. I flipped open her blouse just in time to see him bear down again, squeezing the Hell out of a couple of big handfuls of tit flesh. "Hey!" I whispered over Doris' shoulder, "take it easy! She might have use for them again some time!"
"Awww," he grunted, "she'll be fine." Up close, I could see Doris' eyes watering.
"I don't think so," I grated, "You're done, Bud!" I knocked his hands away.
"Sez who?" he grated, "You ain't her old man!"
"No, but he is," I replied, indicating Art, who had twigged that there was a problem and was turning around.
"And I agree with Bobby -- you hurt her, you're done. That's two of us!"
"Three!" chimed in the kid, rising behind him.
Our antagonist sneered at Art, "Go back to your cocksucking," he rumbled, "and let me show Junior here how you treat a bitch!" Then he got an odd look on his face, as a hand dropped onto his shoulder, and a deep bass voice announced, "I don't think so!"
The guy attached to the hand and the voice was a classic: Huge, muscular, tattooed, shaved bald with a handlebar mustache. You KNEW he was gay, and you KNEW that if you weren't careful how you talked about it, you'd be his new ride -- that's just the way it was! Our rude guest pulled back his hands; it appeared to me that in mere moments, he was going to lose a collarbone. "Why don't you do what the man asks? You don't seem to know how we treat women in here!" the giant rumbled.
Our antagonist, stood slowly, and made to leave, then stopped. He was preparing some smart remark when two guys I hadn't seen came out of the shadows behind the giant and grasped his arms. "On second thought," the giant rumbled, "You need a lesson in how we treat men who treat women badly. I think we'll escort you out. The only question is how long we stop at the back row, first." Our erstwhile antagonist turned white as a sheet, and struggled for a moment, then went meekly. Baldy watched them leave, then addressed me, "Is the lady okay?"
"I locked eyes with Doris, who nodded, then turned around to lay eyes upon her primary deliverer. Her gasp of surprise made it difficult to hide a smile.
"We don't do that kinda shit around here!" he rumbled. "Hard enough for the straights to get a woman in here... Lemme know if you ever have any trouble."
"Thank you!" Doris murmured, "What are you going to do with him?"
"Aww, scare him a bit and shake his tree," Baldy rumbled, "unless he pisses me off! If he does that, I'm gonna break him open like a shotgun and pass him around!" He grinned. "He'll be passin' semen from both ends for a week!"
I quirked an eyebrow at Doris, "Wanna watch?"
I watched her think about it and open her mouth -- and think again. She smiled gently, and addressed Baldy, "If he 'pisses you off', please send someone for us," she murmured, smiling.
"Fucker's in trouble already!" Baldy grinned, and moved off.
"Rough crowd back there," I observed, "You join the game..."