What Dark Corners Are Made For

A while ago, I stumbled out of bed in a daze. I slipped into my chair, my body shivering and started scribbling a letter to my boyfriend. T'was the dead of winter, but in a steam mood that made me feel nothing but tropical passion. My fingers trembled around the pen, and my thighs squirmed around the thin knot of fabric wedged against my slit. I felt so wet. I felt so hot. I came in the middle and picked up the pen again...

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...remember that theatre? The one in the country side, with not a stitch of grass around it and only one screen. Between there and the bowling ally, we had all our good dates. I wish you weren't so far away. I wish you were closer to me and could hold me now. I have to admit that I'm hot right now---not just for you but for this one time we missed. It’s kept me up at nights, like a satyr’s song. It’s made the hours of fingering fly by quickly and the days seem so long while I wait for the sun to set, and my roommate to sleep. I wait for you... or actually for him... the *you* in my dream, to seize me again.

This never happened, but it should have. It's is what dark corners were made for.

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A tear burns hot in my eye. I miss him that much. I tease one finger over my clit, turning circles around the wet knob. With a sigh, I pick up the pen again, my juices making it slick in my hand as I continue writing....

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...this would've been us but it wasn't. For me now it's just a dream.

In the dark theatre, cuddled against each other through most of the movie, I hear his snore tearing softly through the air.

He jerks awake, feeling a poke in his side.

"Hi..." I wave at him.

I poke him gently again, "Wakie, Wakie!" My whisper-scream makes the crowd murmur anxiously around us. We're sitting in a corner, alone as the only couple, the rest of the thin crowd splattered in other chairs away from us. Enveloped in curvy shadows cast by the false marble column beside our seats, no one can see us but they can hear us all too well.

"Oh ....sorry Becca...is it over?" he says with a hopeful yawn, his words carrying easily to my ear.

I smile, "Hush now.... “I whisper low, "It's not done yet. You still have a few hours more to spend with moi."

He yawns again.

I reach out and giggle into his ear, "You’re not supposed to pass out until afterwards..." I say in a leading tone.

He perks up. I can almost imagine his pupils struggling to adjust to the light; his eyes desperate to see just how broadly I smiled as I said that.

My fingers tease between his, letting my nails stroke his palm gently.

"Well I'm old," he mumbles, "and we old folks need our rest." He whispers teasingly into my ear, holding my hand up for a kiss. "What'd I miss?"

"Oh nothing lot. There was a war.... lots of explosions, and the McHenries were taken over by space aliens."

I hear him gasp and chuckle back at him, "or.... more likely, you're just missing a long tortured conversation between two depressingly drab characters.”

"Oh... yeah, sorry I missed that."

I laugh. "It was a bit boring for me too.” I smile softly in the dark, my words a low murmur.

"I guess there's little use to getting into this movie...." he pauses, rubbing his hand over my skirt, "So what should we do about this, Becca"

He leans in and kisses my cheek, his lips cuddling over the dimples by my lips.

I stifle my tickled giggle, "Are you trying to make out with me? Isn't that a little cliché?"

"Oh no not at all. Cliché is... I look you in the eyes and say your always beautiful to me babe. Then I kiss your lips, of course"

He kisses my lips. A tender wet peck, nothing more.

"Of course." My heart trembles excitedly and I smile, hidden underneath a dark shadow. Staring out at his features silhouetted in the silver light of the movie screen, I smile and lift my hand to his clipped chin. His eyes shine out underneath bushy eyebrows, searching the darkness for me like most men search for their special star.

My fingertips brush across his cheek and cup warmly there. "You're not so bad yourself, you know." A hint of glee twisting through my voice.

"Ah---well I'm glad you say that. Especially considering----" he stops suddenly, his mouth muffled against mine. Too bad, it'd probably have been a witty remark. As it is, our tongue squirm against each other, tangling for seconds then pulling apart to dart gentling in and out of each others lips.

I feel his hand suddenly on my breast, fondling me through my shirt.

I pull away with a blush, my breath caught in my chest.

"Mmmmmm… your mouth tastes like pop corn babe" he whispers, fumbling with a button on my blouse.

I giggle, "You're so silly" I murmur as I gently nuzzle against his shoulder. "But don't you think someone might see us?" I say gingerly, my fingers toying between his; tracing gentle circles above his knee.

"Well... depends on which show they care to watch." He pulls at my shirt; the button undone, his hands slip into my blouse. I breathe in, my breast swelling into his hand as he rubs his fingers around it.

My lip trembles lightly, and my cheeks turn a hot pink. My hand brushes ineffectively at his, feeling his fingers massaging around the light fluttering lace of my bra and kneading into my warm skin.

"Oh...sweetie.... are you sure no one can see?" I ask delicately as his touch raises goose bumps on my trembling arms.

"Mmmmm you’re so warm..." he mutters into my ear, licking lightly on the rim. My bra snaps against my skin, "Well babe we're in the corner here and we can stop when you wish but..." He ends with a tongue rolling kiss, taking my hand into his.

Relieved, I sigh softly onto his neck. My body going soft against his, I nudge my head onto his shoulder. Under my shirt, my nipple turns into a hard point, squeezed and swollen in between the simple twists of your fingers. My hand moving to nestle between my legs, the rustling of my nails against the rough cushion covers reaches my ear. His fingers unfold over my right breast, edging my bra down past my nipple. The fabric catches lightly on my nipple, flicking the swollen point down. My hand squeezes tighter into his and a happy little murmur escapes my lips before I clench them nervously shut.

I grind my teeth together. It feels almost like too much of a good thing. We're so exposed, I think. That's a lie, I know. We're in the shadows, granted anonymity by wings of silken black. I tremble....yet we're not alone. I hear the low breathing of people around us. Girls? Boys? Men? Couples? Families? I don't know who they are...but they're there.

A little sweat beads on my skin, making his fingers slick against my skin. His finger ease around my breast, pushing his palm flush against my skin. On my left side, my nipple juts out in tingling anxiety against my bra's curly lace.

He lays a path of wet kisses up my neck, his voice almost imperceptibly soft as he asks "Do you want me to stop yet?" I tense as his hand pulls out from inside my unbuttoned blouse.

Shaking my head slowly. I spin over the arm of the chair and into his lap.
"Keep going till I can't stop" I whisper while I take both his hands and push them underneath my blouse. The silky fabric tugs against his hand, pinching into my back as he raises it. In the grey light cast reflected off the projection screen, I see the baby blue silk stretching tightly as his hands walk up the twin curves of my parted breasts. My soft mounds bounce, but barely, as I squirm to push myself into his hands.

I scrunch down against him, hiding my head on your shoulder as I start raising my shirt. My hands inch upwards, slowly pulling upwards till the tiny pink peeks of my nipples squeeze out like little towers on the slender hilltops of my breasts.

He smiles broadly, crows feet besides his shining brown eyes. I stare back at him with hazel ones of my own, my black hair perfectly blended into the darkness behind me. Our eyes swallow each other, and we kiss deeply.

It’s almost as if we're alone. Yet it’s so dark, as we kiss, I think we might as well be.

Down below all this, my hands tug nervously at the hem of my shirt. His crotch bulges out against my bum, splitting my cheeks against either side of the rise. I wobble over the hump, trembling with as I think about it hot, out and inside me. These thoughts in mind, I grind down against him---trying to make the large bulge swell and pop under me.
Reaching between my skirts and tugging at his crotch, I feel it throb in my little hand. A hot tickle runs between my legs, and I work my thighs together, encouraging my cotton panties to bunch high against my sensitive slit.

"Thank you..." he mumbles. His hands pull out of my blouse, and undo my buttons slowly. Inch by inch, my skin pulls out into the cool air of the theatre. My bra pulled down past my nipples, my blouse finally open fully. He sweeps my hair aside and leans over my shoulder. I close my eyes. I want it to be a surprise.

I feel his kiss and groan. His tongue tickles against my nipples, working a wet circle around it, making it tingle as I squirm silently in between his strong arms. My back arches and I press awkwardly up towards his lips, my body bent backwards against him.

I groan out.... the sound hangs in the air, attracting a single shush from a nearby movie-goer. I bite my lip, blushing, and choking back another gasp.

"What are you doing babe...am I hurting you?" he whispers with ragged breath into my ear.

"Oh no...You’re....wonderful" my voice rasps back at him.

Before I can say anything more, I jerk upwards---a sudden stiffness poking up against my panties. My hand bats upwards against his crotch and feels his hand there too. I trace around his grip, circling inwards, tempted but not expecting to really feel it. I squeeze his shaft with a little gasp, excitement bleeding through my voice.

I pull and tug his shaft upwards, my fingers circled tightly around his cock. Holding it gently, I rub it into the damp layer of fabric against my slit. My panties feeling tight against my body---pinching into my thighs and cuddling unrelentingly against my flared slit---I moan again. I can't help it.

My hair flitters across his chin as my head writhes underneath it. My face pink with held back emotion. My lips quivering shut and pressed into a thin line, keeping in the rest of my moans.

My finger teases around the tip of his shaft, shivering as the swollen head pulses against my finger-tip. Wiggling down with his shaft squeezed between my thighs, a tingle spins up my spine. The shiver jerks my head against his chest, and kicks my legs out from underneath me. I collapse against him, just as I feel his finger hooking my panties aside.

His cock a hair-breath away from me, I can't resist the offer. I position and slide down against it, shivering out of synch with myself. I stare down and watch myself as if from far away, his shaft pulsing inside the cradle of my lap. My legs shiver and twist against the ground as he fills me completely. So slick, my wall stretch wide around his shaft ... my puffed out pink lips pushed apart by the tip. I jerk forward, my mouth jarring open just in time for another moan to escape from me.

My thighs feel wet, my juices streaming out past his shaft and worming between my legs. My breasts give little gravity defying hops as he thrusts lightly into me. I stare and see the white globes glow in the soft light, seeming to hang in the air on their own; pulled up by invisible fingers. We twist against each other, oblivious to the movie, ignoring the increasingly urgent pleas of our saner sides to steady ourselves and stop.

I smile freely, bouncing lightly up against him. My tone thighs holding me slightly off edge as he pumps underneath me. My butt cheeks hum with the impact of his body against me.

"Cum in me sweetie", I murmur, nibbling lightly on my lip.

He kisses my cheek and I sigh. I feel him release. His shaft jerking between the silky folds of my lips, my warm walls convulsing closed around his cock. I twist a slim circle about his lap, a wave of heat traveling through me as I squeeze myself down onto him.

Ignoring the low gasps around me, I rub myself heavily against him.

We both cum

Together we melt into each other arms, our anxiety and the indignity of the deed lost to the afterglow.

The last of his cum spurts into me: a warm swirl that seems to spread everywhere.

I smile softly,
Cheeks blushed pink,
Clothes undone,
Impaled, pressed tight against him....

My vision fades grey as my eyes close
Yet somewhere in the hazy distance,
Floating across the screen...

I see butterflies.

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I never finished my letter, but I had enough orgasms to make not finishing it a moot point. It wasn't till the next morning that I remembered slowly; my memory shakily grasping around the one important thing I forgot as I wrote the night before:

I don't have a boyfriend.
I smiled, but I do have an audience.

**** The End. ****