Finding Neverland

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Meeting in a dark theater.
1.9k words
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The message was short and sweet. "Meet me at the movies, 4:25, Finding Neverland. Sit on the back row."

A movie? That was odd. I had not seen him in 2 months and now he wanted to go to a movie. It didn't really make sense. I would hope that if he wanted to see me, he would want to be able to talk. Work things out. But instead he wanted to meet me at a movie.

I bought my ticket at 4:15 and made my way to the theater. The lights were still on and there were only 3 other people in the theater. I picked a seat on the back row in the corner and waited.

Finally the lights went off and the previews came up. He still wasn't there. I started to wonder if maybe he wasn't coming. I checked my watch. 4:15. I shifted nervously in my seat and straightened my skirt then looked at my watch again. 4:16. I hate waiting.

The door opened and I turned to see who was coming in. It wasn't him. A middle aged couple made their way to the middle of the theater and chose seats next to each other. I watched them settle into their seats, sharing their popcorn and commenting on the previews. I started to think that maybe I should just leave. I was not in a mood to watch a movie by myself.

Then the door opened again and I watched the familiar silhouette move into the theater. It's funny how you can know someone so well that you can recognize them by their shadow. I watched him pause, letting his eyes adjust to the light. I wondered if he had gotten his eyes checked yet, laughing to myself thinking about his misreading the menu at the Thai restaurant. I wanted to call out to him but I knew if I just sat quietly he would eventually see me.

Silently he slipped into the seat next to me as the movie started. It was too dark to see his expressions but I could feel his smile. He was glad to see me. I turned to him to speak and he leaned into me. His lips went to my ear, his cheek brushing against mine. His finger pressed to my lips. For a second I heard him inhale deeply, knowing that he was breathing in the familiar scent of my body.... my perfume mixed with the slight scent of my arousal.

"Shhhhh," he whispered and I knew he wasn't here to talk. He wasn't here to fix things. He just needed to connect, to feel me. "Watch the movie."

I wasn't sure how he expected me to watch the movie. I wanted to talk. I wanted to know how he was doing. I wanted to know if he missed me. But most of all I wanted to make love to him.

All at once the realization of what he was doing came rushing to me. He couldn't stay away but he couldn't come back to me. So he had me meet him in the one place where we couldn't talk. There was no way to discuss it, to argue, to talk him into coming back. There was no way to make love. All I could do is sit next to him and enjoy his presence. Maybe we could touch. But it was limited. A brilliant plan for someone who couldn't stay away but didn't want to get pulled back in.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, calling up all the strength that I had inside. Quietly I turned my eyes to the movie, completely unable to concentrate on the story line but at least I was doing what he asked. I was tense, coiled and ready to spring, waiting for his move.

There was no movement for a few minutes. I knew he was watching me. We had been together long enough that I could feel what he was doing without watching. He was watching my breathing. He always watched me breathe. I tried to stay calm and steady but I knew that he would see that barely perceptible change as my breathing quickened, getting excited just having him near. He always liked seeing me excited, especially when I was trying to pretend not to be affected by him. I shifted in my seat uncomfortable knowing he was enjoying making me squirm.

Finally I felt his fingertips lightly brush across my cheek, stopping at the edge of my lips. I turned to him but he whispered, "Watch the movie." I sighed and turned back to the screen knowing that I had to do what he wanted or risk his walking out. It was better to have him under his terms than not at all.

He was very still for a moment then his fingers moved again, tracing an imaginary line from my lips to my neck. I thought about all the times his lips had been in that very spot, so soft and warm. He paused, then continued down my collar bone, stopping where it disappeared into the neckline of my blouse. I felt a little shudder run through his body as he thought about how much he had missed touching me. I knew without a doubt what he was thinking.

Slowly his finger moved down across my shirt. I felt his finger barely brush against my nipple and a tiny moan escaped my lips. I bit my lip trying to stay quiet. I didn't want him to stop. I could feel him smiling at my discomfort. He liked having me in this position.

His hand moved to my knee and and I breathed in sharply then held my breath. Slowly he moved up my thigh then stopped. I felt dizzy knowing that there was nothing between my thigh and his warm hand except my thin silky stocking. He let me catch my breath for a minute then he moved up. slipping his hand under my skirt.

His fingers were resting at the top of my thigh just inches from my panties and I could feel the wetness between my legs growing. I lifted my hips slightly wanting him to move his hand up but he took his time. The anticipation was the fun part for him. He always loved making me beg, even if I wasn't saying a word.

The anticipation was killing me. I wanted him to touch me more than I had ever wanted anything. He leaned in very close to me, close enough that I could feel his breath on my cheek. His fingers were almost touching the crotch of my panties. I could feel my breath coming in short ragged bursts. Then his voice, just a whisper in my ear... he was asking, "Do you want me to touch you baby?"

Involuntarily my eyes closed. I knew he was going to touch me but waiting was more than I could stand. And hearing him call me baby.... it always melted me to the core. I couldn't speak. I shook my head yes in the darkness, knowing he could feel it more than see it. I wanted to be cool and collected but instead I could feel myself shaking my head in a short fast almost frantic motion.

I could hear him laughing softly as his fingers moved up to my panties. I whimpered as his fingers stroked my swollen clit through the lace of my panties. "Shhhhhh," he whispered as he pulled my panties aside and moved his fingers to touch my wetness. I stifled a cry and he paused waiting for me to regain my composure. This time he didn't stroke my clit. He put his fingers to my wet slit and moved up and down the length of my opening. I could feel how wet I was with desire for him.

I closed my eyes again and leaned my head back in the seat, lifting my hips to meet his fingers. I was willing myself not to make a sound but I was breathing so fast I was almost hyperventilating. Then his fingers moved up to my clit. I couldn't help it, and I cried out. He quickly removed his fingers from my clit and i was left feeling empty, longing for his touch again. I whimpered softly.

"Shhhhhh," he whispered. "If you make a sound I'll stop."

"No," I whispered trying desperately to see into his eyes in the dark.

He didn't respond. I knew what he was waiting on. I turned my eyes back to the screen and adjusted my skirt. He waited a minute until he knew that I was ok again then moved his hand back under my skirt. I wanted to reach for him, to touch his hard cock. I knew it had been hard since the first moment he had touched me but I also knew he would stop me if I tried. So I sat perfectly still as he found my clit and started stroking me again.

"Not a sound," he whispered as I rocked my hips up to meet his fingers.

My eyes were closed. I couldn't watch the movie. All I could think about was crawling over onto his lap and lowering myself on to his hard cock. Pulling him into the bathroom and leaning against the wall, hiking up my skirt and letting him take me hard. Leading him to the car and going down on him in the front seat. Yes, that was what I wanted... to feel him hard in my mouth... to taste his salty sweetness on my tongue.

But he wouldn't let me. So I kept my eyes closed and enjoyed the sensation of his fingers between my legs.

I wanted it to last forever. I didn't want to cum. I was afraid when he made me cum he would disappear into thin air like smoke. So I pulled back away from him. He kept stroking that spot right above my clit while I alternated between lifting my hips to meet him, wanting him more than I wanted the air I was breathing, and pulling away from him so it would last forever.

But I never could resist his touch. I sighed with resolve and thrust towards his fingers. I couldn't help myself and the tiniest moan escaped my lips. I heard him whispering for me to be quiet again but I couldn't stop. My mouth opened and the quiet cry of pleasure flowed across my lips. I figured he would stop but it was too late. I was cumming hard on his fingers and even he wasn't cruel enough to stop me in the middle.

Instead, he turned my face towards him with his free hand and pressed his lips hard to mine. The kiss.... always the kiss that connected us. I felt him covering my mouth with his, breathing in my cries of pleasure, kissing me hard and claiming me as his own once again. I felt myself melting into his kiss as the waves of pleasure rolled through my body. My body shuddered under his touch and I was truly happy again.

He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes in the near dark theater. I've missed my baby, he whispered.... or maybe he didn't say it out loud. Maybe he was just thinking it. I leaned my head on his shoulder and pretended to watch the movie just enjoying his arm around me. Absentmindedly his fingers stroked my hair as we sat silently in the dark, not watching the movie.

Finally, he turned back to me and kissed me. Just that gentle, barely touching lips, melting into each other kiss. And I knew it was over. Without a goodbye, he slipped out of his seat and disappeared out the door.

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