Claire struggled to be silent as Bruce palmed one of her breasts through the lacey cup of her bra but little whimpers of delight escaped her lips. She turned sideways in the theatre seat to give him better access, thankful she had worn a loose fitting top tonight. He removed one breast and then the other from the confining lace cups. His hands were warm on her aching boobs; her nipples poked his palms in eager invitation. The sensitive peaks puckered and tightened, sending currents of lust through her.
Moving the cup holder out of the way, she snuggled close to Bruce. This wasn’t quite what she expected when her husband said he was taking her to a late night movie. But here they were, ensconced in the back row of an adult theatre, watching nubile women and well-endowed men frolic naked on a yacht somewhere. The titillation Bruce provided interested her more than the action on the big screen.
The movie did serve a purpose; the grunts and moans of the people on screen covered any inadvertent sounds she made. She whimpered again as Bruce tweaked and tugged her straining nipples.
“Ssshh.” Bruce cautioned. “Do I have to gag you?”
“Maybe,” Claire whispered back.
Two could play his game. Claire nibbled on his ear and dropped her hand onto Bruce’s lap. His quick intake of breath and the growing hardness under the denim spurred her on. Her wet tongue laved his ear while she unzipped his jeans. In just moments, she held the throbbing evidence of his arousal in her hand. Bruce pushed her head down with one hand while continuing to tweak her nipple with the other.
“Suck it, Claire baby,” he commanded in a husky whisper. “No one’s watching us.” His hips bucked upward, his cock nodding its approval.
Claire opened her mouth and slid her hot, wet lips over the throbbing head she knew so well. Bruce groaned and thrust his hips upward. She swirled her tongue seductively around the rigid, pulsating tip, teased it as she created a soft, sensuous vacuum with her mouth. She licked and sucked, used her tongue and teeth until Bruce uttered a low growl.
She stopped long enough to whisper, “Who’s noisy now, babe?”
Claire was rewarded by a nipple tweak which had her squirming and moaning around the burgeoning flesh in her mouth. His hand grabbed fistfuls of her hair as she took him deeper, moving in rhythm to the music onscreen. She felt a familiar warmth and dampness build between her thighs.
Claire sensed Bruce was about to come; he throbbed and twitched hotly in her mouth. She realized she wanted him to come, to fill her mouth with his essence. Her lips became a tighter ring, increasing the wet hot friction.
“Oh…god.” Bruce moaned.
Bruce gripped her head and pushed it further downward. His pelvis began a purposeful thrusting into her eager mouth. With little warning, Claire’s throat was filled with a hot, slippery cream. She continued sucking until he stopped twitching.
As if on cue, the theatre lights came on. Damn, wouldn’t you know it? Claire moaned in frustration. Here she was, high and dry; well, high and wet would be a better description. She turned to Bruce.
“The timing on that couldn’t have been worse.” She was still fretting as they left the theatre.
“I don’t have any complaints,” Bruce offered, grinning, his smile rivaling that of a Cheshire cat.
She threw a mock punch at his shoulder. “And you darn well better not either.”
Claire glanced around; the street seemed deserted and there was an alley behind the theatre.
“Bruce, honey…” He stopped to look at her. “I’m not ready to go home yet.” She paused for effect and batted her eyes at him. “I need you now. I don’t want to wait until we get home.”
A mischievous grin split his face. “Oh, yeah? What did you have in mind?”
“Maybe someplace down there?” She pointed at the dark entrance to the alley.
Taking his hand, Claire pulled him down the alley, past a container of empty boxes and old fifty-gallon drums. Bruce scanned the surrounding area.
“Here, let’s try this.” Bruce pointed out a dumpster in the middle of the alley.
“Eww, that’s probably dirty.” Claire was having second thoughts now. Maybe she wasn’t as adventuresome as she thought.
“What about some cardboard?” Bruce strode to the empty boxes. In short order, he had one torn apart and flattened. He laid it upon the closed dumpster lid.
“I don’t know…” Claire hesitated.
The sound of a falling box startled her. She tensed, and then exhaled in relief as a cat scampered past.
Bruce sidled close to Claire. His mouth devoured her lips and his hands cupped the firm globes of her ass.
“Come on, babe. No guts, no glory.” The darkness couldn’t hide his lascivious grin. “You know you want to.”
Before Claire had time to protest, her husband grasped her waist and lifted her on the dumpster.
“Lean back on your elbows, baby.”
Was it fear or naughty anticipation that caused her rapid breathing? Claire suspected it was the latter.
Bruce picked up her dangling left foot and placed it on the cardboard, and then did the same with the other. The night air felt cool on her inner thighs as her skirt slid down to her hips. She closed her eyes at the sudden contact of his hot lips on her skin. Heated tingles raced down her spine to her trembling crevice; her hips lifted as Bruce traced the edge of her panties with his tongue.
“These need to go.” Bruce tugged her panties off.
“Put them in your pocket so we don’t lose them.”
Her nipples sprung to an erect life as Bruce moved back between her outspread thighs. The cool cardboard beneath her bare buttocks added a naughty element to her exposure.
Claire moaned as Bruce nibbled at her belly button. His tongue traced a hot pattern across her lower belly, awakening her dormant lust until it flamed fiercely once more. She tensed in anticipation…then jerked from the sudden electrifying contact with her swollen nub.
“Oh god. Yes. Don’t stop.”
She found purchase for her heels and jutted her hips upward, spreading her legs wider than ever. Trembling in wanton desperation, Claire concentrated on the scrape of his beard stubble against her inner thighs…his tongue…his teeth…his hot breath…her own deeper muscles beginning to twitch in undisguised joy.
“Do you like that, babe?” He placed his palms flat against her inner thighs and peeled apart the outer lips with his thumbs, exposing her hidden treasure. “Tell me what you want, Claire.”
“I want your mouth on me.” Her husky whisper was barely audible.
“You can do better than that.”
She felt the heat of his breath on her throbbing core, felt the liquid proof of her arousal ooze from her.
“You know what I want.”
“Say it, baby.”
“I…need…you…to…suck…my…clit,” she panted in pleading supplication.
With a low moan of lustful hunger, Bruce lowered his head and buried this tongue into her aching crevice. She shuddered and moaned from the depths of her soul. Her head fell back. Her mouth fell open. Her belly rippled as greedy zephyrs of lust arced through her heated loins.
Claire whimpered nonstop, mewed without care as to who might hear. Tiny goose bumps of erotic pleasure inched in waves across her skin and spread outward from the pit of her belly. She short-circuited in carnal desire, her brain no longer in control.
“Oh god. Oh god.”
The sudden intensity of her orgasm overwhelmed Claire. It was as if someone had thrown an electrical switch at the base of her spine. She stiffened. Gasped. Her toes curled. A keening wail burst from her throat as she convulsed in explosive spasms. Bruce continued to lap as she twitched and jerked in sated withdrawal.
“Well done, young man, well done.” Hands clapped.
Startled, Claire jumped off the dumpster and tugged her skirt down, then stepped behind Bruce. They stared into the darkness, trying to see who was there.
“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna hurt you.” An old derelict stepped out of the shadows, eyes gleaming with amusement. “I had a noisy one like that once.” He chuckled.
“That’s my wife you’re talking about.” Bruce took a step forward.
The old man coughed. “I had one of those too. Jack here chased her off.” He held up a bottle of what looked like whiskey, unscrewed the cap and took a swig. His laugh morphed into another coughing spell.
“Aah, yes, fine memories indeed, fine memories.” He muttered as he tottered past Bruce. “You are one lucky sonofabitch.”
“Hey, old man.” Bruce dug in his pocket and pulled out Claire’s panties. He tossed them to the drunk. “Here. Have a souvenir to remember us by.”
The old guy held up the fragile lace to his face, gave them a toothless smile, and shuffled off into the night.
“Let’s go home, babe.” Bruce put his arm around Claire and pulled her close. “We’ve had enough excitement for one night.”