0 comments/ 30202 views/ 3 favorites Incident at a Porno Theater Ch. 01 By: Mitzi36B They pushed through the swinging door and stood at the back of the theater waiting for their eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness. The only light came from that reflected by the screen. It showed a long-haired, full-breasted girl on her knees between two guys. All three were naked, the men fully erect as the girl alternated sucking first one cock then the other while using her free hand to stroke the other. Typical porno scene, thought Sheila, glancing at the screen then turning her attention to her surroundings. She felt her date's hand slide across her bottom and rest on the curve of her hip and then, yielding to his pressure, she allowed herself to be drawn closer, snuggling her body against his. He seemed to be a nice enough guy. What did he say his name was? Matt or Mac. Something like that. Sheila seldom bothered with the names of her tricks, although it was sometimes useful in keeping guys focused when things got really hot and heavy. She would lean in close and whisper urgent and nasty things in his ear. "Oh yes, Matt! Just like that! Fuck me hard, Matt. Oh, Matt honey, I love the feel of your cock in my cunt! Come for me, Matt baby! Fuck me Matt!" Guys ate that shit up. Sheila had met Matt only minutes before. On the street a block and a half from the theater. It wasn't her usual spot for cruising. But the latest convention had closed and she and the other girls were left to sell their charms to the locals or to stray visitors, mostly lonely guys looking for a little action to break up the monotony of another unenthusiastic fuck from a barely cooperative wife. She was always happy to oblige. But tonight, things had been really slow. She had one customer who had her give him a blow job in the back seat of a cab while it cruised around, sometimes stopping in traffic, giving pedestrians and people in passing cars a quick thrill to see a girl with her skirt up around her waist and her mouth bobbing up and down on the john's crank. Then there was that young kid, maybe just out of high school, came up to her and asked nervously how much she would charge to suck his cock. "You a cop?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously. She hadn't heard of any campaign to roust the working girls, but you had to be careful. She decided he looked harmless enough. Trouble was, he had no car and said he didn't have enough to pay for a room in one of the trick pads. She finally relented, asked for fifty but accepted thirty-five. He said it was all he had. "Why can't we do it right here?" He indicated one of the recessed doorways along the street. Ordinarily, Sheila would have turned him down right then. However, business being what it was, she merely shrugged and led him over to one of the doorways. But when she knelt down before him and took hold of his very hard dick, he came immediately, almost hitting her as he dropped a full load of jizz. That really upset him, and he said he should get his money back because he had paid for a blowjob and got a hand job instead. Sheila settled the argument by taking his spent, but still hard, prick in her mouth and sucking away for a full five minutes. She appreciated his disappointment. Besides, she loved the taste of cum. Soon afterward, a car pulled up to the curb—a shiny black Lexus with tinted windows. It seemed to spell serious money, and Sheila moved toward it, rolling her hips provocatively, a sensuous strut she had perfected through years of practice. The effect was accentuated by her strappy black platform heels—spikes a full six inches long and two-inch platforms that forced each foot into a graceful arch and toned her calf muscles. Her long legs, already shapely, seemed even more so covered by black net hose under a short, tight-fitting black skirt. Sheila had always emphasized what she had to offer below her waist to distract from the deficiencies of her chest. Ever since adolescence, she had complained about it to her mother. "I've got no boobs!" she would cry. Her mother tried to reassure her, saying that they were small but would probably grow. "Besides," she said, "You've already got enough for the boys to play with. Remember what your father says: anything over a handful is wasted." That was easy for her mother to say, she with her 38C's. She could wear those low cut tops and her cleavage made it look like she was going to spill right out of her bra, while Sheila tried to get by padding her little A-cup titties out to a B-cup. Life wasn't fair. Tonight, she was wearing a black A-cup shell clearly visible beneath a lavender see-through blouse. Provocative, but modest by her standards. There was a slight whirr and the passenger's side window slid smoothly down revealing—what the hell?—a girl. A pretty one, too. But young, maybe just out of high school. She had straight blonde hair and blue eyes, and she showed a nice pair of titties under a tight pink tee shirt. For a moment, Sheila wondered if they had stopped to ask for directions. "Do...um...do you do girls?" the blonde asked nervously. Sheila was immediately interested. "Depends. What do you have in mind?" The blonde girl looked over at the driver, hesitated, and said, "You know...girl stuff." What an innocent, thought Sheila. She leaned down and looked across at the driver, saw another girl, about the same age as the blonde but with darker hair. She was turned sideways, her right leg lifted up on the bench seat offering a clear view up her skirt. It didn't look like she was wearing panties. It wasn't hard to guess what the two girls had been up to behind that tinted glass, Sheila made a quick assessment—a couple of young lesbians out for a trip on the wild side. Speaking to them both, she said, "By 'girl stuff' you mean eating pussy, dildo fucking, maybe a strap-on?" She saw the blonde's eyes light up, her mouth a broad grin. "That's it. How much do you charge?" This could be good, thought Sheila. "A hundred," she said, then added, "Each." There was a moment of silence, then the girls whispered to each other. Finally, the blonde turned back. "Do you take credit cards?" Sheila couldn't believe it. "Hey, honey. This ain't Bloomingdales. Cash only." The window rolled smoothly up and the car pulled away from the curb. Sheila walked back to her position feeling a bit disappointed. Maybe she shouldn't have asked for so much. But they had the money, she told herself, a couple of rich girls like that. She wondered what their daddies would say if they knew what their daughters were spending their allowances on. Even so, it could have been fun. To tell the truth, she preferred girls to guys. With their soft, pliable bodies and gentle touch, women made much better lovers, knowing how to use their hands and tongues as only they can to bring another woman to an advanced state of arousal. Sheila was sure she could have brought a new level of appreciation of the joys of lesbian sex to those two girls. Ah, well. On top of everything else, it was starting to rain. Just a slow misty drizzle but it promised to turn into something worse. Most of the other girls had given up for the evening. The last two, Molly something and a petite girl who called herself Cricket, were just getting into a cab. "We're cutting out, Sheila," Molly called out. "Watch out for yourself." Sheila waved her acknowledgment. These street whores, while fiercely competitive when it came to their johns, made a habit of looking out for each other, noting who they went with and when, just in case one of them turned up missing. Or dead. There were a lot of weirdos out there. The wind was picking up, and Sheila retreated further into her doorway, one of the few that didn't stink from men pissing in the shadows. Men could be such disgusting creatures. she thought. She was getting cold and tired; her feet were hurting. She closed her eyes and dreamed of lying in a soft warm bed under some studly guy, vigorously pumping her toward orgasm. Then she noticed the lone guy marching along the sidewalk, coming right past her. Some middle-aged guy in a light leather jacket and Docker-style pants. Not bad looking, not staggering or anything. "Hi, honey. Looking for a date?" she called out. The guy stopped abruptly. Apparently, he hadn't noticed her. Sheila stepped from the shadows, cocked her hip at him, then ran one hand provocatively over the curves of her body. The guy grinned and walked towards her. A promising sign, she noted. "You look like you could use some company," Sheila purred. "I know how to make you happy." The guy grinned even more. Then after a brief pause, he said, "How would you like to come to the movies with me?" What? Was this gut looking for an actual "date"? As if reading her mind, the guy added, "I'll give you a hundred dollars for an hour of your time at the movies." Sheila was a bit suspicious. "What movie?" she asked. "I dunno. Whatever's playing at the Gayety. How about it?" Now she understood. The Gayety was one of the theaters in the neighborhood that showed porno films non-stop. She considered for a moment, decided why not. After all, what could he expect in a movie theater? A quick hand job? Maybe get his cock sucked? She could handle that. And she didn't expect it to take an hour. Besides, it would give her a chance to get off her feet and out of the drizzle. She hooked her arm in his and smiled. "It's a date." -2- The woman in the cashier's cage was middle-aged and frumpy-looking. Minimal makeup. Large fleshy breasts pushing out against a white shirt. Probably the manager's wife. A sign in the window said. "Ladies Free with Escort." Sheila didn't think she could qualify as a "lady" by anyone's definition, but she got in free anyway. Now, standing in the darkness at the back of the theater, she surveyed her surroundings as best she could. There was a main center section flanked by aisles and smaller sections along each side. There didn't seem to be many customers. Matt or Mac or whatever took her by the arm and guided her halfway down the aisle, then pulled her into one of the side rows until they were almost up against the wall. She settled back in her seat and looked around as her eyes became accustomed to the semi-darkness. Only about 25 or 30 people, she guessed, scattered evenly throughout the theater. Almost all were singles. She imagined guys sitting by themselves watching the porno flick and masturbating. There were a few who sat together in pairs. As far as she could tell, she was the only female in attendance. There were two guys sitting three rows directly in front of them. As Sheila watched, one of them disappeared from view. The other guy was slouched down, his head resting on the back of the seat. It was obvious that he was getting his cock sucked. Well, thought Sheila, she could do that at least. She felt Matt's arm go around her and she leaned into him submissively. They sat for a minute, watching the movie. The blonde girl and her two sex partners were still on the screen, only now the girl was kneeling between them as each yanked furiously on his dick. The girl had her mouth open and her tongue out, ready to catch their ejaculations. The first shooter almost missed her mouth entirely, his jizz flying up into her hair, in her eye, and on her cheek as he pumped out his load. The second guy seemed to be having trouble getting off. He was grunting and sweating as his hand flashed rapidly up and down his prick, the head bright pink with his arousal. Finally, he spilled his spunk directly into her mouth, some rolling down her chin and dropping on her tits. The guy continued milking his tool until it was completely spent. The camera zoomed in until the girl's face filled the screen. A puddle of cum was resting on her tongue. She closed her lips, swallowed, and opened her mouth again, demonstrating that she had really eaten the jizz. The girl ran her tongue around her lips, searching out any cum she may have missed, then grinned broadly at the camera. Sheila wondered how much the girl had been paid for that scene. She had heard that it wasn't much. There were plenty of girls eager to take off their clothes and fuck in front of a camera. But she had to admit that it looked like fun. Sheila felt Matt's hand on her chest, his fingers tracing the outline of her boobs. She leaned her head on his shoulder and turned her face up to be kissed. His lips came down hard on hers. She accepted his tongue in her mouth and offered her own in return. It reminded her of her teenage years, making out with her date in a darkened movie theater as she rebuffed the boy the standard three times before allowing him to put his hand up her skirt. That was then. Now, she normally wasted no time on foreplay. Her strategy was simple: get it out, get it up, and get him off; then move on to her next customer. But seated here, comfortably off her feet and in someone's arms she felt somehow relaxed and...well, romantic. Besides, she had always liked it when boys felt her up. Sitting here with Matt, she arched her back and pressed her tit against his palm, making sure he got his full, required handful. Matt was fumbling with the buttons on her see-through blouse, and Sheila decided to help him out by unbuttoning it completely before he damaged the delicate fabric. Then she reached in and unhooked the front closure of her bra, making her breasts freely accessible to his hand. There was a kind of thump and she turned her head to see a guy take a seat directly behind them. A few minutes later, another guy slid into their row and sat beside them, only one seat away. Clearly her arrival had attracted some attention. Sheila had noticed when they entered a few heads turned at the sound of her heels clicking on the tile floor. Now some of the guys were moving in for a closer look. The image onscreen had changed. The buxom blonde was gone, replaced by two girls—one, a petite Asian girl with large boobs, obviously implants, and long black hair; the other was a somewhat older blonde, her hair cut short in a mannish style. Each of them wore garter belts, sheer black stockings, and heels, nothing else. The Asian girl was lying on her back with her legs spread and her fingers twisting and pulling on her nipples. The blonde had her face buried in the other girl's dark bush and two fingers thrust in her cunt as she licked away hungrily. Matt was busily playing with her tits, teasing her nipples erect. She could feel the familiar tingle of arousal spreading through her loins. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and gave little moans of approval. Matt appeared to be a breast man and didn't seem to be put off by the fact that she didn't have a large rack to offer him. The folklore was right: once a guy was horny enough, a girl could overcome lack of quantity with sensitivity and enthusiasm. A pre-op shemale had once confided that once she had got a guy started, he enjoyed sucking on her little boy tits just as much as if they were double Ds. Matt noticed her attention focused on the screen. "You like that?" he said. "Oh, yes!" she murmured with enthusiasm, unsure whether he was referring to what he was doing with his hand or the lesbian action on screen. Actually, she was responding to both. "You ever do it with a girl? You know, have sex together?" Sheila didn't hesitate. "Of course," she said as if it were obvious. She thought of Kay, her live-in lover until about six weeks ago. Kay was a stripper. She and another stripper had a successful sideline, appearing together at private parties and in "VIP rooms" making lesbian love in front of both male and female audiences. Sheila had been in love with Kay, or at least infatuated by her. But then Kay had abruptly moved out and into the bed of her stripper-partner. Sheila missed her terribly. Most of all, she missed the passionate sex they shared with each other. She hadn't had another woman since their parting. That was something she was determined to remedy soon. Just in case her date was having any doubts about her own sexuality, she leaned over and placed a hand directly on his crotch where she found a satisfyingly large bulge inside his pants. "Don't worry, honey," she reassured him. "I like what you guys have got." She squeezed his bulge playfully. Matt had leaned over and was kissing her breasts, taking each nipple in his mouth and sucking on it. She pulled her blouse and bra open, baring her chest completely. Then, as she felt his hand on her thigh, she opened her legs and let him reach up under her skirt. Two guys had now moved into the row directly in front of them. They made no pretense of watching the movie, more intent on the live porn show going on literally within arms reach. She cast a quick glance at the guy sitting beside and two seats away from her. He had his cock out and was stroking it slowly as he watched her being felt up. Sheila found it amusing that here were all these guys with a hot movie going on, two sexy girls showing a lot more than she was, and they preferred to watch a couple fooling around in the audience. Men! Who could figure them out? She leaned back and let Matt have his way. His nipple sucking was getting to her, sending little shock waves of arousal down to her groin area. She managed to get his zipper part way down, far enough so she could get her hand inside his pants and caress his massive lump. He seemed to be wearing tight-fitting nylon briefs, those tighty-whities that some guys preferred. His hand was well up under her skirt by now, his fingertips tickling the crotch of her lavender panties, now moist from her pussy juices. She put her hand on his arm and urged him to move it up higher until it pressed firmly against her open vaginal lips. Sheila didn't mind the foreplay. But it was just so...well...high school, and it just slowed things down. She was getting really horny now. And the actions on the screen were adding to her growing excitement. The two girls had rearranged themselves into a sixty-nine position. The Asian girl was on top with her full breasts hanging down and resting on the other girl's belly and her arms wrapped around the blonde's raised thighs. She used her fingers to spread apart the labia, exposing a pink, totally shaved pussy. She had her long black hair thrown to one side so as not to obscure the camera as she ran her pointed tongue along the open slit then used it to flick rapidly at the emerging clitoral bud. Then Sheila became aware of another hand moving up the inside of her leg and resting on the boundary where the elastic hem of her net stocking left off and her fleshy thigh began. It was that creep masturbator sitting beside them. He had snaked his hand over and presumed to join the fun. "Stop that!" she hissed, glaring fiercely at him. Quickly, he snatched his hand away. Matt looked up in surprise. "Not you, baby," she cooed, pushing his head back down onto her nipple. "It was just 'junior' here thought he could get a quick feel." Sheila had always had an oral fixation. Now, after watching that girl on the screen sucking off those two guys, and then these two girls eating each other out, she felt her mouth water, eager for some oral sex of her own. She kissed the top of Matt's head and whispered, "I want to suck you. Right now." Matt didn't hesitate. He leaned back in his seat and spread his legs and waited for her move. She reached into his pants, searching for the opening in his undershorts, but all she could find was a massive nylon-covered bulge. "Help me out here, hon," she said. Matt unfastened his belt and opened his pants. He seemed to pause for a moment, then briskly pulled his pants down to his knees. His underwear seemed to gleam brightly in the darkness. Sheila ran her hand over him. Smooth. Her fingers touched...lace? So that was it. The guy was wearing women's panties! Incident at a Porno Theater Ch. 02 Her date gone, Sheila found herself surrounded by a horde of leering men, some with their penises out, masturbating openly. Perfect. She was in her element. She leaned back and planted her feet on the armrests of the seat directly in front of her. The move displayed her strappy ball-busting platform heels, her long shapely legs in their net stockings, and everything in between. "Who's next?" she asked to the crowd. Her question provoked an immediate response from the man who had been jerking off two seats away. He slid into the seat next to her and reached for her crotch. But she grabbed his hand and held it. "No freebees," she said sternly. "This will cost you." For the next hour and a half she took on, one at a time, everyone who had the inclination and the money to pay for her favors. She announced her fixed rates: 20 for a blowjob and 50 to get laid. Quickie hand jobs she gave for whatever she could get, usually 5 or 10 dollars. At one point, someone shined a light full on her face, catching her with her mouth full of cock. She never missed a beat but continued sucking away. The light went out and she heard someone say, "Okay guys, let's keep it down." It was evidently the theater manager trying to restore some sense of order. As he walked away, Sheila mimicked him in a little girl voice. "Keep it down guys. Jeez, here I'm doing all this work to keep you guys up." By this time, most of the audience had migrated to her side of the theater. If they had been in a boat, it would have capsized. Wasn't anyone watching the movie, she wondered. After a while, she realized she had run out of paying customers although she was still surrounded by a bunch of horny onlookers. She tried to think of some way to charge the voyeurs for her little show but was at a loss. It was time to leave. She had always liked it when guys came in her mouth and hadn't swallowed so much cum since the time she had taken on her entire high school basketball team. "Gotta go, boys." She stood up, re-hooked her bra and pulled down her skirt, then pushed her way through her admirers, stopping now and then to permit groping hands a few gratuitous feels before walking back up the aisle. There was a Ladies Room just off the lobby and she went in, a bit surprised that no one tried to follow her. She avoided looking in the mirror and headed straight for the lone stall. The place looked clean enough. Probably the only one who used it was the woman in the cashier's booth, she thought. Even so, she decided not to sit but lifted the seat and hauled up her skirt. Then, straddling the bowl, she let go a steady stream of piss until the toilet was turned into a deep yellow pool. She no longer had her panties. At one point in the action, she had felt them coming off but didn't mind at the time. They were just getting in the way. But when she looked for them, they were gone and no one seemed to know where. Somebody got to take home a souvenir. Now, she wished she had them back. A few of the guys she had fucked hadn't used condoms, and now their juices were seeping out of her pussy and running down her leg She could use a pair of panties about then to catch the drippings. She took some tissues out of her purse and used her fingers to clean herself out as best she could. Should have brought a tampon, she muttered to herself. She stood before the vanity mirror and surveyed her image critically. What a mess! She lifted her skirt and used some wet paper towels to clean of her thighs and pubic area. Then she re-settled her boobs inside her bra and buttoned up her blouse. She took a comb out of her purse and ran it through her tousled hair in a vain attempt to get it back to some degree of orderliness. Her lipstick was almost entirely worn off with repeated blowjobs, and she applied a new coat of scarlet to her lips and examined the result. Not bad, she decided. A respectable looking slut. Her purse was stuffed with bills, and she took them out and counted. With the 150 her date had given her and the meager earnings from earlier in the evening, she now counted nearly 500 dollars. Pretty good for a rainy night, she thought. Pretty fucking good! It was raining hard when Sheila emerged from the theater. She paused under the shelter of the marquee trying to decide what to do. "Need a taxi, honey?" The voice came from the cashier's booth. "Um...yeah, thanks," she replied, looking toward the source of the voice. She watched as the woman punched a number into a phone and began talking. Looking closer, Sheila revised her first impressions of the cashier. She wasn't so much frumpy as motherly with a nice smile and a kind face. Her ample breasts protruded out over the counter, held firmly in place by a major figure support bra showing beneath her shirt. Sheila always noticed other women's boobs, given her own deficiencies in that department, but decided she would prefer her A-cups to the other woman's biggies. "Cab will be here in a minute," the woman called out. Sheila moved closer to the cashier's booth. "Sorry about the ruckus in there," she said. "Oh, that's okay. According to Frank, my husband, you were giving the boys quite a show. I told him we should hire you, let you sit in the audience. Guys would be lining up for tickets." I guess you don't get many "lady" customers. "We get a few. Some guys bring their wives or girlfriends, gals curious about porno. They usually lasr about a half hour. Then we get an occasional guy in drag. But mostly it's single guys, lonely for some fantasy sex. Kind of sad really." She looked up at Sheila and smiled. "I guess you made a few of them happy." "That's what I do, make men happy," said Sheila. And women, too, she thought to herself. The cab drove up, splashed to the curb. Sheila shouted thanks over her shoulder and made a dash for the taxi. In just the short distance, she found herself getting soaked, plopped gratefully into the rear seat. "Where to?" the cab driver asked, turning towards her. A woman. She was thirtyish, with a round face and close-cropped blonde hair, no makeup, and very large, very blue eyes. Sheila gave her address and they sped off into the rain. "What a night!" the cabbie said. "Most of the girls have gone home. Not a good night for business I guess." "Yeah, that's what I thought. Then a guy took me to the movies. Changed my luck completely." "Madge told me you were quite a hit back there. Have all those horny guys to yourself. Not bad." "Not bad is right. Except some dickhead stole my panties." "No shit?" the driver said, half turning around, as if she expected Sheila to demonstrate her panty-less state. "How did that happen?" "Oh, it was just one of those things. Got a little wild there for a while." "I'll bet. Well, keep your legs closed. You don't want to catch a cold down there." They drove along in silence, barely able to see through the rain. "I understand a new convention's coming in this weekend. Maybe things will pick up for you," said the woman cabbie. "Oh yeah? Who's coming." "I dunno. National Association of Twat Eaters or something." "Sounds like my kinda crowd," Sheila said, and they both laughed. In fact, it didn't really matter who was holding the convention. They were all pretty much the same to her. Guys from out of town, looking for a little forbidden sex, the kind they couldn't get from their wives at home/ And it wasn't always guys. She remembered how, about six months ago. She had been hired by a group of feminists to entertain them in their hotel suite. Seems the liberated gals had no problem treating her as their own live sex toy. The cab moved through the night, away from the sleaze of the city's red light district. Away from the strip bars where the dancers showed everything they had and, for a price, would let you touch it, fondle it, taste it, or more. Away from the adult book stores with their peep show booths littered with used condoms and tissues discarded by a horde of masturbators. Away from the no-name hotels that rented rooms by the hour. Away from the half-dressed whores in their miniskirts and spike heels roaming the shadows and offering prospective "dates" a quick trip to paradise. The rain had abated, giving the streets a clean washed look, and the area surrounding Sheila's high-rise apartment building offered a dramatic contrast to where she had just been. Respectable. There would be no hookers patrolling the street corners here. Here, the working girls operated by appointment only from lushly decorated apartments. "Nice place," the cabbie said. Sheila counted out her fare, adding a generous 20 dollar tip. "For saving me from drowning," she said to the grateful driver. "Any time." She took out a business card, wrote something on the back and held it out to Sheila. "I usually work nights, but you can reach me during the day at my home number on the back. Whenever you need a cab, call me. I can handle whatever you need." She paused, then added, "The backseat there is as private as a hotel room. And cheaper, too." She smiled. Sheila reached for the card. Their hands touched and then held for a significant moment. "Tina's Taxi Service. Discretion Assured". "Thanks, Tina." Sheila looked into the woman's incredibly blue eyes and recognized a familiar expression. Desire. Well well, she thought. She briefly considered inviting those blue eyes upstairs, but just as quickly rejected the idea. Not tonight. Maybe I'll save this for later, she thought. "Perhaps I'll see you during the Twat Eaters convention." she said with a smile as she turned and headed for her apartment. She knew the woman was still watching her and, without consciously thinking about it, gave an extra roll to her hips. Right now what she needed was a hot shower, a cleansing douche, and a soft bed. Alone. She would sleep late. Tomorrow was another day. And another night.