A Passionate Movie

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Big Tits

I had anticipated seeing the movie we were about to watch, but as I left the ticket booth I saw you lingering by the fountain in the plaza. Meandering around, your hips gently swaying; you seemed a very conservative woman taking in a movie. Little did anyone know the truth beneath your facade.It was the second time you had worn a skirt; the first being when we met. I remember watching you walk from your car; the light fabric of your clothing swayed with the rhythm of your body. So sexy, that I would steal glances at you walking, or linger behind to catch a glimpse of you. I was learning you, taking you in – your slender neck, expressive eyes, and the transition of your waist to your womanly hips, your strong legs.I had already memorized your face; your dark expressive eyes peering out from your bangs, uneven dimples made larger by your smile, the cleft just below your lower lip, your sharp but feminine jawline, and your wonderful profile. Easy to remember such an attractive face, with the fragrance of Venice’s salty ocean breeze stirring my memory.I looked at you now, the sun shone off your raven hair. As you meandered aimlessly I couldn’t help but notice the same sway of your hips, and the anticipation of seeing the movie was overtaken by the anticipation to gently hold those hips, and run my hands up the small of your back.I walked over and you smiled, saying “Ready?”Yes, I was ready, but not for the movie. I nodded and slid my arm around your waist, needing to feel your warmth and the pendulum movement from your hips. I could smell your light perfume, and flashes of burying myself in your neck, under your hair, burned through my imagination. I no longer wanted to go to the movies, but we were here, and I would have to show restraint.We walked into the dark theater and I took your hand to lead you up the stairs. I wanted to be sure I could sit in the back with you, unnoticed by whatever crowd might come. My senses were heightened by my desire, Escort Gölbaşı and I could smell the trail of your perfume and the scent of your hair cut through the lingering smell of popcorn and other theater delights.We moved through the empty seats to the middle of the theater; the previews were playing and the lights had already been extinguished. As you were about to sit down, I slid my hands around you around from behind your waist. Resting my hands on the front of your hips I pulled you into me from behind, maybe a bit less gently than I would have liked, but the intent was conveyed.I leaned into your ear, and you could feel my breath past your face as I whispered, “I want you!” I could feel your shoulder shrug up in a naturally shy movement, and your head bowed forward and sideway, unconsciously offering your neck. As we stood there I gently kissed your neck, brushed my lips lightly upward as my warmed breath left a trail, pulled your ear into my mouth and gave a quick nibble on your lobe.I felt the shiver explode from your lobe to your hips; I could almost trace its path….The perceptible sigh that escaped from your breast was deafening in the silence; however, looking around the theater, not a one seemed to notice. I realized we were still standing, and though I could feel great trembling, I couldn’t discern whose body it was emanating from.I slowly slid my hands from your waist upwards under your arms, feeling every slight contour of your body as if you were a page of Braille and I was blind. Cupping and caressing my hands along your inner arms, I pulled them upwards over your head and pressed my body against yours. I wanted you to feel my heat, the blood running faster through my body and the deep but slow exhalation of my breathing against you. I wanted to feel the crush of your breasts against me, and remember the sweet taste of your delicate nipples in the darkness, imagined but yet unseen.I was losing Keçiören escort restraint, and the primal being inside was coming forth to the calling of your skin and breasts against me. The quickening of your breathing was a metronome, setting the rhythm for what was happening.With sudden realization, we parted and sat down, sheepishly smiling, finding hands and interlocking fingers. I raised the center armrest and slid towards you, locking my left arm under your right. My hand pressed palm down into your seat cushion and slowly, carefully slid under your thigh. I wanted to feel the weight of you on my hand; a sensual and perceptible substitution of your entire weight on top of me in a passionate embrace.Your left hand lay curled in your lap, fidgeting with the fabric of your skirt, but the unconscious representation of hands clawing at the bedsheets was clear. My left hand slid down towards the back of your knee, then out, up and around your thigh, tracing its line to the top of your leg.In my mind, the primal being was trying to take control, and thoughts of pushing your legs apart and hiking your skirt up while I locked my mouth and tongue to yours was vividly being colored. Images of the shadows this scene would make against the back theater wall heightened the play being written by the primal one. His primordial response to your touch, your scent, to the memory of every kiss and embrace, every darting of your tongue was growing.What you experienced, unknowing of this battle being played out inside me, was me leaning back in my chair, my eyes shut for a moment, my head back, and an ever so slight guttural sound came from deep within. You feel my fingers, still on your knee, dig into your thigh firmly and drag upward, slowly, almost as if I’m in pain, trying to regain control. You feel me shiver, and my leg firmly presses against yours.My left hand has made its tortured climb up your thigh, and now sits Kızılay escort bayan in the fold where your leg meets your hip, pressing gently through the fabric, kneading the fabric. You can feel my hand trembling, and with your left hand you reach across to caress my arm, finding the goosebumps and raised hairs that are the byproduct of my shivers.I sit perfectly motionless, head still tilted back. You can see the outline of my face and neck, and notice the telltale swallows of my throat. With my eyes closed, I’m unaware until the point of contact your moist, warm lips on my neck, my jaw and face. I’m acutely aware though, of the time it takes your lips to move the slightest distance, almost as if time has stopped and everything has disappeared around us. With each kiss, you feel the clench of my hand tighten on the fabric of your skirt, and the nervous upward pull, as first your knee, then thigh becomes exposed.I sit unmoving, eyes still closed, for I know to move would be to lose control. I feel your right hand find my thigh, scratching at the fabric. There’s no way the entire theater can’t hear the sound of that scratching, but as I part my right eye, everyone is engrossed in the movie. The audience is absorbed with the couple on the screen who are locked in a Hollywood bedroom tangle, stale and unbelievable.But the real sensuality is being played behind the audience, in that darkest place just under the projector lights, where if the audience were to turn around, the glare of the projector would blind them to the couple writhing in the darkness.I put my hand atop yours, and press your hand firmly into my leg, sliding it inward and down. I feel you pull at my leg, wanting to part them and once again the primal scene rips to the forefront of my consciousness.The movie is long lost on both of us as we play out our own unwritten script. You feel my left hand, my left arm, crossed under your right, release its hold on the fabric of your skirt. Gently, slowly tenderly you register my hand sliding down your thigh to your naked skin, just below the hemline of your already bunched up skirt. Our foreheads touch; I feel your bangs against my skin and I look determinedly into your slightly closed eyes, asking for permission – or forgiveness.

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