Chapter 11: Public Tease & Near Miss

The engine hummed low as we pulled into the gravel lot of the old drive-in theater on the edge of town, the kind of place that still played double features for ten bucks a car and smelled like popcorn grease and summer nights. Sophie had insisted on coming here instead of another night glued to our couch. “Normal sibling stuff,” she’d said with that sly little smile while she slipped into a thin yellow sundress that barely reached mid-thigh. No bra. No panties. Just smooth, sun-warmed skin and the faint coconut trace of her lotion that always made my mouth water. Mom was out of town for the weekend, finally, and the apartment had started to feel like a pressure cooker we needed to crack open before we both lost our minds.

I paid at the gate and found a spot near the back row, half-hidden by a line of scraggly pines. The giant screen flickered to life with the first trailer, casting blue-white light across the scattered cars. A few families had parked closer to the front, kids laughing in the backseats, but our corner felt isolated enough. Private. Dangerous. Sophie twisted in the passenger seat, the dress riding higher on her thighs as she reached into the bag between us for the popcorn we’d grabbed on the way. Her knee brushed mine deliberately, lingering.

“Movie starts in five,” she murmured, popping a kernel between her lips. Her eyes caught the screen’s glow, but her hand had already drifted to my thigh, fingers tracing slow circles that climbed higher with every pass. “Bet you wish you had someone to do that with, huh?” She nodded toward the screen where the trailer had cut to a steamy make-out scene, her voice light but edged with that husky catch I knew too well now.

My cock stirred against my jeans, thick and insistent. I glanced around—no one close enough to see inside the car, the dashboard hiding most of our laps. Sophie didn’t wait for an answer. She tugged the thin blanket we’d brought from the back seat and draped it over both our legs, the fabric soft and familiar. Under it her hand found my zipper, tugging it down with a quiet rasp that sounded deafening in the quiet car. I was already half-hard when she freed me, her palm wrapping warm and sure around my shaft.

But she didn’t stroke. Not yet. Instead she shifted, swinging one leg over the console until she straddled my lap sideways, her sundress pooling around us like a curtain. The blanket covered everything from the waist down. Her bare pussy pressed hot and slick against my thigh as she settled, grinding once—slow, testing. “Just keeping warm,” she whispered against my ear, breath tickling the shell. “Like always.”