Theater Lovers

CHAPTER ONE

Dara wiped the tear from her cheek. It was the second day of her week-long vacation: a vacation that she and Daniel were supposed to be on together; a vacation to exotic locales, to parts unknown, to the bedroom. All that changed six months ago with a fateful phone call.

Dara's cell phone had rung at work while she was in a meeting. She had quickly checked it, realized it was Daniel and allowed it to go to voicemail. "I'll call him back later," she reasoned. That later never came. His message to her was that he was being called to their European office for a summit, and would be home by their anniversary the next week. He was flying out on the corporate jet, but he would call her the minute he landed.

The authorities told her that the plane's wreckage would never be recovered from the ocean. The point of impact was in a spot too deep for divers, and they were abandoning all hope of any survivors. At that moment, Dara's whole world fell apart. Her desolation was a large as the ocean that had consumed her Daniel.

The family went through the motions of a memorial service, but it did little to console Dara. For months, she wandered around in one of his shirts, desperate for a whiff of his cologne. She wore his socks to bed. Anything to feel closer to him.

Finally, her mother came to her, and said, "Dara, baby, I know you're hurting over Daniel. He'll always be a part of your heart, but he would want you to go on with your life. I know your vacation is coming up. Please, baby, please take that time to do some things that you used to love doing. Go to the movies. Call your friends and go out to dinner. Just start living again. For Daniel. For yourself."

Dara looked at her mom, and in a soft voice whispered: "I'll try, Mom."

So, here she sat, trying to decide what to do today that would perhaps give her a little bit of her life back. "I guess I could go to the movies," she said to no one, "at least there it's dark and I can still sort of be by myself …" With effort, she pulled herself to her feet and went into the bathroom to put on some makeup and brush her auburn hair. She looked at herself in the mirror, and saw only the hollow sadness of the last six months. "I've got to start somewhere trying to put the pieces back together," she thought as she brushed her teeth, "maybe this is a step in the right direction."

CHAPTER TWO

Michael found himself standing in front of the movie theater. It was odd that he found himself there: he hadn't been there since breaking off his engagement with Liz about six months ago. Movies were one of the passions they shared, often engaging in lively debates over characters or cracking each other up with witty remarks during the show. When he found her in bed with his best friend, a part of him died. And he couldn't bear to be even near the theater, must less go in and watch a movie.

He had come home early from work that day. It had been a particularly stressful day at his job as an ad exec for a high-profile firm: his boss had read him the riot act for what was, in the boss's estimation, a shoddy presentation, he had missed his lunch to work on another idea that was now completely in shambles since the company decided to go in a different direction. It seemed nothing he touched turned out right. The only place he knew he could find solace was in Liz's arms. And he couldn't wait to get to her.

She had been his rock for 5 years. They were each other's best friends, lovers, confidantes. At least, that's what Michael thought. He burst through the door, running upstairs, drawn by her lilting laughter. What he saw when he opened the bedroom door would change his world forever: Liz sat, covered in only a sheet, her blonde hair luminescent in the sunlight streaming through the window. Michael had only to blink once for his eyes to focus beyond Liz's beauty to the naked man lying next to her.

"MICHAEL!" Liz shrieked, "What are you doing home so early?!"

"I had a lousy day … imagine this. It only manages to get better." He hoped his sarcastic tone covered the sound of his heart breaking. "And you'll be leaving … when?!?" He looked at Liz … no, he looked THROUGH Liz.

"I'll get some things. We can talk later. Robert was just leaving …"

"And lucky for Robert, I will allow him to leave with his balls intact." Michael watched his two best friends in the whole wide world dress, pack, and leave his life forever.

Michael shook the memories from his head. Looking at the marquee, he decided that he had let those kinds of memories keep him from the things he loved far too long. He bought a ticket, bought some popcorn and a huge drink, and slowly made his way into the theater. He decided to sit in the back, a place normally reserved for new lovers, but there seemed to be no one in the theater to care where he sat. He chose a seat in the exact middle. It's where they usually sat, but this time, he was there to prove that he could do this on his own.

CHAPTER THREE

It was all Dara could do to get out of her parked car. She stood in the parking lot, her delicate hand shielding her eyes from the sun as she read the marquee. She chose a movie that looked as if it would be something that would hold her attention, and she scurried across the street to the theater. She bought a ticket, but realized that she was about 30 minutes early for the show. She dawdled near the concession stand, but thought that her stomach was too full of butterflies to even be able to enjoy a snack of any sort. Instead, she decided to quell the growing unease by going into the theater to sit and wait until the movie began.

She smoothed her skirt down where the wind had blown it, and stepped into the theater. Looking around the dimly lit room, she saw a man sitting on the back row. She decided to sit in the back row, too, but not too near the stranger. She flopped down in the cushioned seat just as the preview questions began to roll.

His voice startled her as he inadvertently shouted out the answer to the trivia question. She looked in his direction with a hard look. A look that said 'you've just invaded my quiet time'.

"I'm sorry. My girlfriend and I used to sit and answer these when we were together. It's the first time I've been here since we broke up." Michaels soft brown eyes met Dara's, and she felt his pain.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's first for me, too. My husband was killed in a plan crash a while ago. This is the first time I've been able to do something on my own."

He watched her face as a myriad of emotions rolled across it. "You don't have popcorn. You can't really watch a movie without popcorn. I bought this huge box out of habit. I know you don't know me, but would you like to share this? I couldn't possibly eat it all by myself and maybe a little company would do us both some good."

Dara smiled faintly. "I don't know …"

Michael eased down to the seat just next to Dara. "Hi. I'm Michael"

"I'm Dara. Pleased to meet you. And thanks for the offer."

Michael smiled at her. He caught a whiff of her perfume: a scent similar to what Liz wore, but it smelled somehow fresher. Sweeter. He squared himself in the seat and offered her the popcorn box. She took a handful of popcorn and settled back into her own seat.

CHAPTER FOUR

The flicker of the movie lights illuminated their faces, just enough for Dara to study Michael out of the corner of her eye. She hated to admit, but she liked what she saw: rugged good looks, a thick shock of dark hair, full lips. Her eyes slowly wandered down to his broad chest, strong arms and such nice ha….OH! Their hands touched briefly in the popcorn box and both jumped as if electrocuted!

"I'm sorry," she blushed, "I didn't mean to…"

"Don't be silly. It was my fault. Really. Please, help yourself. Or better yet, why don't you hold this box a while?!"

She took the box from him and placed it on her opposite leg. Her eyes were riveted to the screen, and just at a crucial moment, the villain jumped into the light, sending Dara shrieking and grasping for Michael's hand. She looked down, realizing what she'd done and just as quickly, released his hand from her grip, blushing all the while.

"I am SO sorry! I guess I shouldn't have picked a thriller to come and see!"

"Please don't be sorry! I didn't mind at all … " He smiled a warm smile. "You can grab hold of me any time you need to."

He reached across her for a handful of popcorn, and as he did, his hand brushed against her breast. He felt her nipple harden against him and he looked into Dara's face for a sign of reluctance. Finding none, Michael grasped the popcorn and drew his hand back, allowing the back of his hand to slowly slide across Dara's breasts. He heard her sigh, and saw her eyes flutter closed.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," she replied breathlessly, "It's just been a long time since … since anyone's touched me. I shouldn't be doing this. I don't even know you."

She wanted to rise up and leave, but her legs were like jello. She couldn't even find her feet if her life depended on it, and all she wanted to do was continue to gaze into this stranger's eyes. Michael, on the other hand, was afraid he was chasing her away, so he had squared himself in his seat once again, facing the screen. Dara's blood pressure returned to normal, and she, too, looked back at the movie. But her mind was anywhere but on the movie: it was racing between guilt and ecstasy. Her nipples remained hard, a fact that was not lost on Michael.

He decided to try an old high school trick: he stretched his arms way over his head, then brought his right arm down behind Dara's seat. But instead of just draping it there, he ran his hands through her soft hair. Dara relaxed her head into his hand, allowing him to stroke her hair, just as Daniel used to do. Just as she succumbed to his ministrations, Michael retreated. "I knew your hair would be soft," he murmured into the darkness.

She reached and took his hand in hers. She wanted to feel its warmth, its weight. She smiled at her own boldness, watching his face out of the corner of her eye. She pulled his hand into her lap, and cradled it in both of hers. She turned to him and watched his face as she placed his hand on her knee.

"Is this okay?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"It is if it's okay with you."

CHAPTER FIVE

He left his hand on her thigh for a very long time, allowing his thumb to stroke in soft, gentle circles against her skin. He carefully began to stroke her skin, slipping higher and higher up her thigh and watching for signs that she was uncomfortable or frightened. His movements were slow and careful and gentle, as if taming a frightened bird.

He leaned into her: "I want to touch you."

Her breath quickened. She had never done such a thing in a public place, and her emotions were still so raw. Yet she wanted this man, this stranger, to prove to her that she was still a sexual being.

She never spoke, but allowed his hand to travel further up her thigh. She spread her legs, and the first touch of his fingers on her panties almost made her faint with desire. She looked at Michael. His soft eyes were watching her, making sure she was alright with what was happening. She leaned to him and kissed him. It was a soft, tentative kiss, but nevertheless, it held more desire than he had ever experienced.

When the kiss broke, he looked into her eyes, and took her hand in his. She was confused at first, missing his touch on her body, but he had ideas of his own. He guided her hand to the front of his pants, and the first touch of her fingers on him was thrilling. She realized that he had no constraints beyond his outer pants, and at first, this made her draw her hand back in surprise.

"It's okay." He quietly guided her hand back to him and with his coat, covered both of their laps to the best of his ability.

Dara's curiosity got the better of her, and she carefully unzipped his pants. His cock sprang free into her hand. How she had missed that warmth, that softness. She stroked him slowly, listening to his groans.

Michael reached over and nibbled her ear, whispering encouragements to her. At the same time, his hand was once again traveling up her thigh to her pussy. She spread her legs to afford him better access to her treasures.

"I think we're gonna have to do something about these panties," Michael whispered. He grasped the top on one side, she on the other, and together they quietly removed the offending piece of clothing. He now had free access to her.

She continued to massage his cock with her hand, afraid that it had been too long for her to remember how to touch a man. His soft guttural sounds told her otherwise, however. She stroked the shaft, running her finger up the head. A small pearl of precum leaked out over her fingers and she used this as lubricant to pump the head carefully.

Michael's hand found Dara's pussy, and he stroked her clit carefully, occasionally dipping his fingers into her and bringing out her nectar. Dara became bolder as the touching continued, and she grasped Michael's wrist and brought his hand up to her mouth, sucking her own juice from his fingers. Michael thought he had died and gone to heaven at that very moment … it was all he could do to keep from shooting all over his coat.

"You try it." She purred, and dipped her own finger into her pussy and brought it to his lips. He sucked her juice from her fingers, thinking it to be the sweetest thing he'd tasted in a long time.

He dipped his finger back into her pussy and put the juice on his cock, feeling her hand grasp him firmly and begin to pump. His senses were overloaded: he could smell her sex and perfume, feel her hand, taste her on his lips, see her lovely face.

"Where?" She queried him, knowing that they were both very close. He saw her make some sort of decision and lower her head to engulf him in her mouth just as he erupted in stream after stream of pent up emotion and cum. He bit into his own hand to stifle his scream of sheer pleasure as he felt the warm wetness of her mouth surrounding him.

His breathing came back to normal, and he looked at her: her hair disheveled, her dress half-off one shoulder and bunched up to nearly her waist. She was the loveliest creature he had ever seen. He kissed her hard, tasting himself on her lips.

"I believe it's your turn, Princess"

He stroked her breasts until her nipples were again small peas under her blouse. He caressed her neck, her shoulders, kissing where his fingers tantalized her skin. He had to admonish her a time or two to keep her moans down as his fingers danced up her thigh to her now-naked pussy.

He stroked her clit slowly, then plunged his finger into her body. Her body went rigid with pleasure as he finger fucked her, finding her g-spot and pressing against it as his thumb strummed her clit. He kissed her neck in a long, sucking kiss.

"Now, princess, now …" And he felt her spasm around his fingers as she came, her cries muffled as she buried her face in his chest. He continued to stroke her for a few moments until he was sure he had wrung all the orgasm from her body. She was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, panting, and looking at him wildly.

"I've never …"

"I know. Neither have I." He kissed her gently.

They had just enough time to reassemble themselves as the lights of the theater came up. Dara blushed hotly at this man … a man she barely knew, yet now knew intimate things about her.

"Would it be too bold of me to ask for your phone number?"

Dara laughed at the thought. Too bold. No, not after that! She wrote her number down and handed it to him, drawing him close for a hug.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much I …"

"Yes, I do. I will call you. Soon." He kissed her lightly and they parted ways.

When Michael got to his car, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his keys, but what he found instead were Dara's panties. He held the damp garment to his nose as he opened the car door, and as he sat in the parking lot, he dialed Dara's number on his cell phone. He couldn't wait to tell her what he'd found, and how he never wanted to let her go.