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       Have fun at the movie, Amanda said. Make good choices, she also said.


       I think there was a little too much of the beginning and way too little of the latter.


       I mean, how good of a choice was it when Robert started massaging my thigh halfway through the movie?


       He rolled his palm across my leg like it was dough, inching his hand higher and higher up my thigh. In no time he was pinching my inner thigh and pulling at it with his fingers.


       I know what he wants- but does it have to be here? Does it have to be now? 


       Sure, the movie theatre is empty aside from two other groups. Sure, we're the only ones sitting in the very back- in a convenient dark spot of the room. Sure, I kind of want him too.


       But this goes against all my morals-




       I clamp my hand over my mouth. I pause, waiting to see if the people five rows down from us heard.


       None of them turn around.


       Robert casually palms my half-hard bulge through my jeans. Half of my face is hidden in my hand and the sleeve of my shirt. I glance at him but he's still watching the movie. Robert doesn't need to look at me to know I'm blushing.


       ...Fuck it.


       I scoot as close to him as the arm rest separating our chairs will allow and spread my legs. I can see the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips- lips I'd really, really like to bite right now. Robert loves it when I bite his lip. He moans each time, and his moans are so deep and low I can feel it rumble inside of him if I get close enough...


       I pull my mind back to the present. He's barely touched me and he's already driving me crazy.


       I glance at him again. He's silent, though his lips are slightly parted. I thrust my hips against his hand and his jaw tightens.


       So he is reacting. Maybe he doesn't want to get caught. Or maybe this is his last attempt at looking cool. 


       Robert takes my hand in his and pulls me into his lap. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close, ensuring I feel all of his growing erection right against my ass. My arms are sandwiched in between my back and his chest. He holds me close enough to make it hard to move. 


       Robert reduces the friction and pulls my pants and briefs all the way down to my mid-thigh. I'm completely exposed now, and he isn't. I squirm in his lap and shoot worried glances at the people far in front of us. They're too entranced by the movie to notice what's going on behind them.


       There's an unmistakeable sound of a bottle cap opening. Is that...?




       He puts his free hand over my mouth.




       And he slides one cold, wet finger in. My body instinctively jolts at the intrusion, shivers running up my spine. Are we really doing this?


       My heart is pounding in my ears. I'm sure he can feel it from his position behind me, because he starts kissing my neck and whispering how it's all gonna be okay. I try to relax. I try to trust him. But I can't get the adrenaline out of my head.


       Robert swirls his finger around and adds a second. He slowly fucks me on his two fingers, occasionally adding a tentative scissoring motion to stretch me open.


       He's definitely not rushing. He keeps up his leisurely pace, and it's not enough. I can't help but move against his fingers and moan against his hand. Give me more.


       He gives me more.


       It's hard not to make a sound. Thankfully the movie picked up- this should be the climax, and that's all I can tell. It's hard to focus on anything with the way Robert's sliding his cock into me.


       It's big and the stretch hurts even though Robert's as gentle as possible. I can feel him holding back.


       Hot, warm breaths of mine create moisture between my mouth and Robert's cold, calloused hand. I want to beg him to fuck me. I want him to bend me over the chairs in front of us and wreck me but there's people here.


       Hot shame washes over me, but it doesn't stop me. There's no room to change the angle he's fucking me in. Robert drags the curve of his cock across my prostate over and over again.


       It's maddening. It drives me out of reality and leaves me a whiny, sweaty mess, rocking my ass against his hips as a silent plea for more even though there's no way he can give me more right now.


       His grip around me is tight but even then it's hard to keep me still. Pleasure courses through me and fills me so high it's hard to breathe. Every inch of my skin is screaming for some kind of release, release I won't get if he refuses to touch me where I want him.


       I try to coax him by clenching around him as tight as possible and arching my back- but that gets me nowhere. He just moans softly against my shoulder, tightens his hold, and keeps the same drawn out pace.


       Tears fall from my eyes and pool at the crease of my cheek and Robert's hand. I'm close, but no matter how hard I try, I can't cum untouched. I need my arms, I need my hands, but he insists on holding me like this, holding me on the edge, a moaning mess for him.


       He's close too. Robert's breathing out of his mouth, teeth grazing my shoulder, hands trembling.


       My ass is throbbing. I know that sounds cheap, but it's just as cheap as me letting my boyfriend fuck me in a movie theatre. There's no eloquent way to put it. It's throbbing. It's not used to being overstimulated, and my poor bundle of nerves is probably gonna be sore in the morning.


       I'm amazed at how quiet I've been up until this point. Robert snaps his hips into me, earning him a few needy whines from the back of my throat. The arm around my waist drops to my hipbone and he digs his fingers into my skin hard enough to leave bruises. The pain goes straight to my arousal- it's what this man does to me.


       He holds my hips down and finishes inside of me. It feels warm, hot, and sticky, and I think I'm gonna-


       "Shit," Robert says. My consciousness refocuses on the movie screen, playing the ending of the credits. We were fucking for that long?


       With shaking hands he pulls out of me and pulls my pants back up. I climb off of him and sit back down so he has time to gather himself together.


       The theater is empty. We should leave. I turn to ask him, but it comes out a lot... needier? than I meant it to. R-Robert, please, please-"


       "We're staying."


       He said it with such force I resigned myself to sit back in my seat. I bit my knuckle, grit my teeth, tried everything I could to keep still and quiet.


       It's not fair. He knows I'm still achingly hard, and I know he can hear me gasping. We sit through the entire credits sequence anyways.


       When it's over I stand up and bolt out of the exit. I can hear his footsteps far behind me when I reach my car. Fuck you, Robert.


       He reaches me and throws the car door open. Robert throws me down on the backseat and everything we've been holding back to this point comes out now. The leather of my car chair chafes my skin and rolls my shirt up as we hungrily kiss each other, clawing at each other's clothes.


       "You were so fucking gorgeous, baby," he says, dipping his thigh in between my legs. Baby. He called me baby. I shamelessly grind against it, unsure if I'm moaning at the gesture or from the filthy things he's whispering into my ear.


       "And you know what? I'm gonna take you home and I'm gonna fuck you some more. I want to hear those moans you've been holding back from me." His hand finds mine and our fingers intertwine.


       "I wanna make sure it's hard for you to walk tomorrow." He pulls skin at my neck between his teeth. "You're gonna limp, I promise. You hear that? I'm makin' promises now. Just for you."


       He's kissing the space just below my jawline. I can't speak. "What 'chya gonna tell the neighbors when they see you limping?" Robert drags his tongue in a lazy circle and bites down again. "Did ya go cryptid hunting? Were we attacked by a bear? 'S that why you have those bruises on your neck?"


       He laughs and I can feel the imprint of his smile on my neck.


       I'm ruined and he likes it. I'm writhing underneath him, begging for more attention. I'd beg him with my words, too, but my mind was so hazed over with lust I couldn't form a sentence.


       My autopilot took over. I don't remember when I started rutting my clothed cock against his leg or when I started moaning his name, but it's what I find myself doing when I pull myself out of the clouds long enough to catch my breath.


       "Robert- Robert, babe, fuck," I say, trying to sound coherent.


       "Is that all you can say now?" Robert asks, lifting his head up to look at the mess he's made of me. He kisses a few stray tears away and finally, finally shoves his hand in my pants.


       That's all it takes. In a second he's retracting his hand and in the next I'm cumming in my favorite pair of briefs. Damn it.


       When I look into Robert's eyes, and I mean really look, I see a wild animal's hunger in his eyes.


       "I need you. Let's get home, shall we?"


       And that's the story of the one and only time I heard Robert Small say the word 'shall'.