HER HEAD SNAPPED BACK SHARPLY and she stiffened against the seat. In the pulsating glow of the dark theatre, I could sense more than see that she had clamped her lips together tightly to prevent a gasp from escaping. Slowly her thighs began to part before my fingers. She wore no panties. Like exploring into a warm damp cave, my hand scrabbled upwards pushing her skirt with it until I came in touch with the soft moist lips of her cunt.
I turned towards her at the same time she turned to look at me. Her eyes feline bright and just as round radiated both shock and lust simultaneously. I stroked her wetness, slipping one finger inside her. Her body reacted again as a soft groan spilled from between her lips, the sound buried within the polyphonic resonance of mind-crushing decibels emanating from the speakers around us.
Hellboy II was a riot. Trippy in an acid-high sort of way. Vivid colours and images melding together in an euphoric cacophony reminiscent of my drug-laced days when music ran in colours down the walls and peoples faces melted into waxen effigies. I loved the soundtrack, even recognized the Eels (whatever became of them?). I played with her pussy while I watched. While the 5 men in the seat in front of us ate their popcorn and drank their Coke and whispered amongst themselves. I dipped my fingers in to her hot essence, not only because she wanted me to, but mainly because I can.
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