Sunday Quickie: Midnight Show

The local cheap-seats theater always smelled of burnt popcorn and spilled soda. Not even sure why I took Nikki to a show there. Well, I do know why.

She’s ten years younger than me, just out of college and still wet behind the ears. And always horny. Her hair color changes with the season, but most of the time it’s shades of purple.

On movie night, I took her to see Zombie Pirates of Vancouver. We expected the show to be terrible, and weren’t disappointed. Halfway through, right when the main hero started chainsawing his way through the hordes, Nikki put aside her soda and touched my thigh. Her fingernails scratched through the denim, tickling my skin.

“This movie is terrible,” she said.

I shrugged. Maybe there was a reason why we were the only people in the theater. We sat in the back, just under the projector. I leaned to her, and kissed her on the forehead. She smelled like gas station perfume mixed with buttery popcorn.

“Want to go somewhere else?” I said.

Nikki’s hand moved further up my thigh and found my growing cock. She stroked me, and squeezed just a little. “Have somewhere in mind?” she said.

My first mistake was to move her hand away from my crotch. I intertwined my fingers with hers. Nikki scowled, and glared at me. She doesn’t like subtle variations of the word “no.”

But she was so cute, the way the silver screen reflected on her pale skin. She wore black tights and a purple spaghetti strap, her bare shoulders well toned, boobs pushed up and nearly popping out.

Mistake two was to kiss her.

Nikki doesn’t need a ton of encouragement. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me in closer, and bit my lower lip. Every time she did that, I got weak everywhere in my body. My legs, my shoulders, my arms.

My fingers were still active though. I cupped her breasts, and then pulled the shirt and bra down, popping out both headlights. Twisting her nipples, I probed the inside of her mouth with my tongue. Nikki was already ahead of me. Her hands slithered down my chest, around my waist, and found the zipper. She didn’t even have to look where she was going.

Nikki pushed me back against the seat, being rough and all business now, and opened my jeans. My cock slipped right out, springing to life.

I couldn’t stop her. Not even sure I wanted to. Even in a public place. I worried about somebody walking into the show—a theater employee, a late arriving movie goer—and how I’d have to fight Nikki off me.

Or would I fight her?

Maybe just let whoever walked in call the cops. Would they let me and Nikki stay in the same cell over night? 

I didn’t get real far in that fantasy. I already had a fantasy shaping up, which was the real reason I brought Nikki to the worst zombie movie ever made.

She bent at the waist, and took me in on one swallow, balls deep.

My member throbbed at her touch. Nikki didn’t hold back, scrapping her teeth across my skin, slobbering all over me. The cannon battle on screen nearly, but not quite, drowned out the slurping noises. The saliva mess she was making trickled down my shaft, down my balls. Every inch glowed hot.

Nikki tugged at my sack. The gentle pain mixed with the excruciating pleasure. I had a hard time breathing. Sweat trickled down my spine, making my shirt stick to my back. The pressure built in my groin.

“Please stop,” I said. “I’m about to lose it.”

Nikki didn’t listen. She never did when sucking cock. As if the world didn’t matter, everything could just go to hell, she was so focused. An army of pirate zombies stormed a fortress on a beach, looting and plundering and gangbanging barmaids as they went.

The movie focused a lot on the gangbang part, which amounted to random ladies without shirts screaming while being tied down.

Apparently, according to this stupid film, undeath is no barrier to getting a hard-on.

Nikki started stroking me while sucking. The pressure of her hand was too much. I couldn’t tell the difference between her moans and the moans coming from the movie.

I clutched a fistful of Nikki’s hair and threw my head back. I didn’t mean to scream. I wanted to remain quiet, on the off-chance somebody was going to walk in any time now.

Instead, I howled in pleasure. The spasms in my cock hurt as I spurted come on her face and hair. But Nikki still didn’t stop.

Milking me for every last drop until my shaft became too sensitive for more. Grabbing her hair, I lifted her face off my lap. Nikki laughed. The come on dripping down forehead and cheeks and chin was satisfying.

I kissed her, tasting my salty essence.

“I think I can watch this movie now,” she said.

“Only if you promise more of what you just did,” I said. “When we get home.”

“I only promise you’ll get this and more,” Nikki kissed me, and settled into my arms.

I had no idea how we were getting out of the theater, with her covered in spunk. At that moment in time, I didn’t care.

Now the theater smells like popcorn, soda, and sex. I felt accomplished.


Copyright © 2020 Hermit Muse Publishing

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Author: David Anthony Brown

Indie writer and publisher. Among other jack-of-all-trade skills...

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