Cinema Erotica

by Laura Antoniou

  “What are you doing, man?” Greg demanded, shaking in anger. Alan neatly wound the belt around the two wrists over and over again and then in between them before tying several knots.

  “I'm adding to your fantasy, Greggie. Get over on your back, and I'll bring you off.” Alan rose up to allow Greg to turn, and was rewarded by the sight of Greg's only slightly disturbed erection. “You're getting off on all this, Greggie. You lied about the movie, but you can't lie about this.” Alan reached and slapped Greg's dick, making it spring toward his stomach, and making Greg almost double over in shock and pain.

  “Shit!” was Greg's only reply, because what else could he say? Despite his protests, his body betrayed him, and he strained against the cloth belt, his face flushed with humiliation. And it was about to get worse.

  “This is the final deal, buddy. I'm gonna take your dick in my hand, and get you off just the way you like it,” Alan said. He swung his legs over Greg's torso, facing Greg's dick and taking hold of it as he described. His ass was almost resting on Greg's chest.

  “But unless you want it to take all night, you gotta get me off too.” Alan slowly raised his butt, allowing his dick to point down, then inched his way backward.

  “No fucking way, man!” Greg screamed, his friend's cock and balls almost dangling over his face. He turned his head to avoid them, and rocked back and forth to try to fight. Alan just grinned and picked up the belt again, and laid into the fronts of Greg's thighs until the man started to cry out in pain and stop struggling.

  Then Alan dropped the belt again and slapped at Greg's dick, over and over. That was followed by a long squeeze of his balls, then a tickling run of fingers all along the shaft, ending with a sharp tug on the head.

  “This could go on all night,” Alan said, scratching his fingernails on the sensitive underside of his friend's dick. He slapped it again, feeling Greg jump beneath him. As he pulled out a few pubic hairs, he raised his ass again and presented Greg with the vision and scent of his cock. “All you have to do is get me off. And get this, buddy…I promise I won't come in your mouth!” With a laugh, he grabbed hold of Greg's dick, pumped it about a dozen times, really hard, then slapped it back and forth with his fingers. Then he went back to tickling it lightly.

  Alan gasped as Greg's mouth took in the head of his cock. Deep inside, Alan figured Greg would never do it, not unless he was drunk or something. But the hot warmth that engulfed him was real, and he shifted to push more of his dick into the young man's mouth.

  Then, remembering his bargain, he reached down and took firm hold of Greg's dick and began to frig it the way Greg liked it: easy, but very fast. It was so hot, thinking of Greg tied up like this and sucking his cock. Well, not actually sucking, but at least holding his cock in his mouth, breathing around it, licking it, making it feel real nice.

  Okay, Alan thought, spitting on his hand for lubrication. You make me feel good…it's time to get you off. He increased his speed and a little pressure, and felt the churning of come before it appeared. And when it appeared, it gushed. Greg's hips thrust up as he spurted, sending loads of white fluid up and around Alan's fist, shooting it out in spurt after spurt, more juice than Alan had ever even seen coming from one guy. As he came, he moaned and made sounds that Alan knew were his usual curses, this time mumbled around a thick cock in his mouth. The vibrations the sounds caused brought Alan really close to the edge himself.

  When Greg fell backward again, his muscles relaxed, Alan scooted off of his face and out of his mouth, and turned around, again straddling Greg's chest but facing him. His own hand dropped to his dick, wet with Greg's spit, and he began the series of slow, hard draws that would bring on his own come. In no time, his jism was pumping out onto Greg's chest, mixing with the hair and glistening in little opaque droplets. A few drops spilled down and ran across his neck.

  The two men panted, and were silent for a while. Alan moved first, getting off the bed and pushing Greg over to untie him. The knots were hard to untie, but soon the belt came off in stiffened loops.

  Greg didn't say anything, just turned toward the wall and lay still. Alan picked up his jeans and belt and opened the door. In the hallway, on the floor, was the camera he had dropped not a long time ago. He picked it up and tossed it into Greg's room, aiming for the bed.

  Alan went into the bathroom to wipe himself down, then to his own bedroom, satisfied but disturbed. What was gonna happen tomorrow? Would Greg pretend it never happened? Would he move out? Would they fight about it? Should he apologize?

  He lay down on his own bed in the dark but over the covers, and thought for a while. He was honestly surprised when Greg walked into the room. He thought he would at least have taken the night to think about things.

  Greg stood in the faint light by the door. “Uh…you awake?” he asked softly.

  “Yeah.”

  “I just wanted to tell you somethin’,” he continued. “Uh…I'm sorry about ragging on you, man.”

  If someone had dropped an anvil on his head, Alan couldn't have been more surprised.

  “And…and…” Greg wasn't finished. “If, uh, you wanna keep the picture, I guess it's okay. I mean, if you can't trust a buddy, who can you, you know?”

  “Wait a minute,” Alan said, as Greg put the camera down and turned to leave. “You know that if I have that picture, I can, well…do this again.”

  There was a pause. Then, “Yeah.”

  “Tomorrow, if I want to.”

  “Yeah.” There was no pause this time.

  “Even now, if I want to.”

  “Yeah.” A sigh.

  “Well…go to sleep, man. Apology accepted. And we'll talk tomorrow.”

  “Okay, Al. See you in the morning.”

  As Greg left to go back to his room, Alan lay back in satisfaction. Oh yeah, you'll see me in the morning, he thought, gently fingering his limp dick. When my stiff one is ready for some more relief.

  After all, he thought, finally flipping the covers over his nude body, what are buddies for?

  Chapter Eight:

  Master of the Evening

  Mark often went to the movies by himself so he could have a chance to enjoy a film before taking a woman to it, and spend the evening paying attention to her. He had a feeling, from all the office scuttlebutt and the reviews, that this particular film was definitely going to be one to take someone to if you thought they might get into a little kink. But you never know when some woman would take this kind of thing wrong. So he put it on his “preview” list, to check out whether or not it should be in his next scheduled dating agenda.

  The house was crowded. Every showing was sold out. He bought popcorn and a large Coke, and settled into a middle row as the seats around him filled. A pretty dark-haired girl sat next to him, and she also seemed to be alone, and Mark didn't mind one bit. They smiled briefly at each other, the way strangers did when circumstances put them together, and they turned their attention to the screen as the lights went out and the title rolled.

  Ten minutes into the film, Mark was already amazed. This was no standard art film. Unlike all the others he had seen over the years, with weird plots and strange settings and brief, occasional scenes of slightly depraved sex, this one was nothing less than a catalog of kink. The audience was hushed, with that slight undercurrent of rusting that meant people were shifting in their seats. Ahead of him by three rows, a couple was already making out. But all around him, including the dark beauty beside him, people's eyes were glued to the happenings on the screen, captured by the hypnotic eroticism on display there.

  Mark actually found himself flinching at the part with the piercing. Did people actually do that? But as he shifted to regain his hold on the popcorn, he felt that peculiar sensation of being watched. He glanced around and found that the dark-haired girl beside him was looking at him. He looked back and smiled again as he became comfortable, and she did an astonishing thing.

  Carefully, so he couldn't help but notice, she unbuttoned the t
op three buttons of her blouse and leaned back.

  Mark sat there for a second, waiting for her obvious invitation to clear his awareness. He was hardly a man to lose a good opportunity when it came, but this was not the way these things usually happened. He glanced back at the screen, then casually draped an arm around her, allowing his fingers to drape against the hollow of her shoulder, touching warm, bare skin. She eased up close to him, and turned slightly in her seat so his fingers could touch her breast, and she laid one cool hand against his thigh.

  This, Mark thought, as he grinned in the darkness, is too much. This is my lucky, lucky night. Forget seeing the flick first, then choosing some woman to go see it with. Before the first fifteen minutes of the movie, some woman comes on to me!

  He relaxed and flicked his fingers downward until they found her erect nipple. As the actions on the screen changed and intensified, his fingers began to experimentally pinch, pull, twist, and tug at her nipple. With every harsh twist, she seemed to melt more and more into him. With every tight pinch, her hand grew bolder in his lap. Soon her mouth was moaning little moans of pain into his ear, and her hand was caressing a hard-on the likes of which he hadn't felt—well, since Linda did that thing with the ice cubes and coffee.

  At one point, he finally realized what she was getting off on was the brutality and the pain. He began to just clamp down on her nipple, holding it as tightly as he could for as long as he could, while she squirmed slightly and tried to keep what he was doing as unobvious as possible. Then he left that nipple and boldly pushed her skirt up, to the astonished but pleased attention of the man sitting to her right. When she didn't move to smooth it back or brush his hand away, Mark sent his fingers into the hot, wet delta between her thighs and discovered she wasn't wearing any panties.

  And during the orgy scene, he finger-fucked her steadily, in rhythm with the fucking on the screen, and her gasps melded into the sounds of pleasure coming from the grand speakers all around the theatre. The man sitting to her right didn't know what to watch, the show on the screen or the one next to him.

  When Mark wanted to watch what was happening with the movie, he made her massage his stiff organ while she licked her own juices off his fingers. When he had enough of that pleasure, he slipped his fingers into his Coke and pulled an ice cube out. For the rest of the movie, he amused himself by applying ice to her nipples and sticking pieces up her hot snatch. Her juices flowed over his fingers, and by the time the credits were rolling, they were locked in as close an embrace they could get into while in two seats at a theatre.

  Their mouths and tongues devoured each other, and their arms locked around their backs in the kind of passion usually considered part of a honeymoon weekend. They heard the muted laughed of some other theatre goers as they passed them by, and then Mark broke the embrace and looked at her in the full light for the first time.

  “I'm Mark,” he said, softly, with a smile.

  “Thea,” she gasped out. “What you did was hot. I loved it.” The words came out in a rush, and she kissed him again.

  “Come home with me,” Mark suggested. “It's a little more private, and we can really get to know each other.”

  She grinned a wild, hot, crazy grin, and said, “Let's fuck right here, right now.”

  “You're nuts…!” Mark started to laugh, then realized she was teasing him, teasing him by being demanding, by demanding something impossible. His mind seized upon all the clues she had given him, from her casual invitation to her pleasure in being pained, to her wild request to be screwed in a half-empty theatre, and he caught hold of her arms.

  “I think I phrased that wrong,” he said, holding tightly onto her. “You're coming home with me. And I'm going to get to know you better. And you're going to do some things for me.”

  She tossed her hair back, not fighting him. “Like what?” she asked.

  “Like suck my cock. Like show me your body. Like anything I want you to do. Coming?” He stood up, pulling her with him, and she pulled herself into his arms for another kiss. He broke this one like the last one and laughed as he reached for his jacket. When she picked hers up, he dragged her out of the theatre and pulled her down the block. But he couldn't make it to the corner. Turning, he pushed her against the side of the building and pushed her legs apart with his knee, and kissed her, hard, plundering her mouth with his tongue.

  She melted under him and returned his kiss with passion. When he started to lift her skirt and show off her legs to the people passing by, he felt her tremble with pleasure and moan consent into his ear. She liked it. She wanted it. When he called her a slut, she moaned and caressed him with such fervor he thought he was going to come in his pants. He drove his hand between her legs and brought his fingers back, dripping with her pleasure, and instead of letting her taste it from his fingers, he wiped it across her face, leaving her to recover while he hailed a cab.

  In the cab, they resumed their impassioned embrace, and he opened her blouse all the way so he could put his hands on her twin globes. The cab driver paid no attention, and Mark wondered how far he could push this woman, who seemed to like being shown off. He whispered in her ear, “Do you think the driver knows what a slut you are? Shall we show him? Show him your tits! Go ahead, do it!”

  She moaned, turned to kiss him, then took the sides of her blouse in her own hands. Slowly, she parted the garment, and turned to face the cabbie's rearview mirror.

  The man looked into the mirror three times before he assured himself it was no accident. His eyes kept glancing back to the road and the other cars, and he waited until they were at a red light to speak. “Nice pair, lady,” he said.

  Mark laughed. “Yeah, aren't they? Isn't she a little slut?”

  The light changed, and the cab pulled forward into traffic again.

  “If you say so, buddy,” the driver said. He seemed glad when they reached their destination, and took the cash tip instead of Mark's offer of a copped feel. When Mark and Thea got out of the cab, they crushed each other in a laughing embrace, and he led her to his building at a pace that was almost a run.

  They were insatiable. Waiting for the elevator, in the elevator, outside his door, and into his hallway, they were all over each other. But once inside, as he reached to turn on the lights, he finally pushed her away.

  “Now we're on my turf, babe,” he said, looking at her. She was disheveled, hot, and the look in her eyes was as wild as it had been in the theatre. “This is gonna be played my way.”

  If anything, his words and attitude thrilled her even more. “What do you want?” she asked breathlessly.

  He shrugged his coat off and sat down on his couch. “I want you naked,” he said. “I wanna see what a slut looks like.”

  She shivered and pulled off her own jacket, then allowed the fallen halves of her blouse to follow. She did have a nice pair, Mark thought. Small enough to cup in your hands, with big, pointy nipples. The skirt fell off almost as easily, and she stood before him in stockings and a garter belt. The dark triangle of hair between her legs was diamond shaped, a nice shaving job. Mark immediately wondered what it would look like bare.

  He stood suddenly. “Wait right there!” he ordered as he ran to his bedroom. In his closet, up on the shelf, was his old instant camera. He checked to see if it was loaded, and discovered he had plenty of film, and an extra pack besides. When he came back in the room, she was still standing there, and her eyes lit up at the sight of the camera. He raised it and shot a picture of her with that surprised look on her face.

  “Come on, pose for me. Show off what you've got. Hold your tits together.” Mark moved in closer, and Thea responded by gathering her breasts in her hands and holding them together. She leaned forward and pouted as she did, and Mark snapped off another shot. The photos fell to the floor as he took them.

  “That's right, that's my little slut. Show off for me…now show me your ass. Bend over, like you're gonna get it right up the ass, that's it. Now spread your legs!”

/>   Her shapely ass, framed by the garter belt, invited his touch. Before he took the picture, he moved up beside her and pinched her butt, sharply, all along the bottom. Then, he pulled gently on her curly hairs to fluff them out a little, and smacked her rounded cheeks to bring up some color. She whimpered delightfully and shook her ass back at him, and he hit her harder. She gasped and said, “Oh, please, no more, take the picture…”

  Mark immediately stopped and leaned back to get his shot. It looked so good, he took another, then slid to the floor underneath her, between her spread legs.

  “Come on, bitch, open up for me. Spread those pussy lips wide, or I'll whack you again. Dance a little for me. Make it good!”

  Thea obligingly opened her lips with her fingers and displayed her intimate charms to Mark and his camera. She glistened with moisture, and as she ground down in a dancer's move, he got off another shot, then dropped the camera. He reached up with his fingers and slid two of them neatly into her.

  She moaned and sank down onto them, twisting and turning her torso in order to get them into her. She was so open and wet that he immediately slipped another finger in, and she gasped and bent over. “Oh, yeah, Mark, oh yes!” she cried, as she took them in. “Oh, do it, baby!”

  He finger-fucked her for a while, enjoying the view and the sensations, then pulled his fingers out. He rolled to his feet as she moaned her disappointment, and held one finger up at her. “Wait right there, babe. I think I got something you'll like better up there.” He dashed into his tiny kitchen.

  When he came back, he was holding a cucumber, which he dangled in front of her nose. “This is going up that hot snatch of yours, you slut, and you know who's gonna put it there? You are.” He took her by the arm over to his coffee table and forced her onto it, on her back. He wrapped the fingers of her right hand around the thick vegetable and picked up the camera again.