Renata Sought Me Out in the Darkness of the Cinema
I know you like my stories, so tonight I’m going to tell you what happened a few months ago with Renata. I still have trouble writing about it without my pulse quickening and my pussy getting wet, because some encounters aren’t told—they’re relived.
The theater was almost empty. A few people scattered among the seats, a midnight showing, that thick silence that exists only in cinemas at odd hours. Darkness, the hum of the projector, and above all, her perfume. I recognized it before I saw her.
Renata was sitting beside me, wearing that damn oversized sweater that left one shoulder bare. I hadn’t seen her in months, since that stupid argument that had separated us without completely keeping us apart. But the magnetism was still there, untouched, perhaps more charged than before. Her low laugh raised goosebumps on the back of my neck. Her eyes sought mine without trying to hide it. And I knew perfectly well what she was wearing beneath her skirt: nothing. No thong, no panties, nothing. Her naked pussy against the rough denim, already soaked since I had smelled her.
My black blouse clung to my skin from the heat of the place. The straps slipped down, and the neckline peeked out with an innocence that was anything but innocent. But the short denim skirt was something else: it brushed the limits of decency, and I knew it. I had dressed for this without fully admitting it to myself.
I crossed my legs slowly, measuring every movement, until my knee brushed hers. She didn’t take her eyes off my thighs. I bit my lip as if it were a casual gesture and pretended to adjust myself in the seat, letting the fabric rise just a few more inches. I heard her hold her breath.
“Are you still as provocative as you were before?” she whispered against my ear, as if she were commenting on the movie.
A shiver ran down my back to my nipples, which hardened beneath my blouse. I answered without looking at her, barely moving my lips.
“More. And I’m wearing nothing underneath. Find out.”
Her fingers found my leg. At first on the outside, softly, almost asking permission. Then more decisively, moving slowly up my thigh until they stopped right where the denim ended. I opened my legs a little, just enough for her to understand that permission had already been granted. The tension was electric. I felt my whole body vibrating; every brush left me breathless, and the sound from the screen was fading away as her hand advanced with cruel patience.
When her fingers finally reached my naked pussy and she felt how soaked I was, a low moan escaped her. She slipped her middle finger between my lips, sliding through my wetness, and slowly pushed it into my pussy. I dug my nails into my thighs so I wouldn’t scream. She began moving her finger inside me, searching for that spot, while her thumb pressed my clitoris in slow circles. I was melting into the theater seat, mouth open, trying to keep my breathing from being heard over the projector. She inserted a second finger and spread my legs wider with her other hand. She was fucking me with her fingers in a movie theater, and I moved my hips against her hand like a bitch in heat.
I slid my hand beneath her sweater. She wasn’t wearing a bra. I smiled in the darkness and grabbed one of her tits whole, squeezing it, pinching her nipple until it grew hard as a stone between my fingers. I heard her bite her lip. No one could see us. Or could they? I pulled her hand from between my legs and brought her fingers to my mouth, sucking them one by one, tasting myself on them without taking my eyes off her. She pulled me toward her firmly and kissed me, thrusting her tongue down my throat with a hunger that allowed no argument.
“Let’s go. I need you to fuck me now,” I said without thinking.
***
We almost ran to the car, as if the world were burning behind us. As soon as we shut the doors, I climbed on top of her astride. Her hands pushed my skirt up to my waist, leaving my ass bare against the steering wheel, and she thrust two fingers into my pussy again without warning. I screamed into her mouth. I moved over her hand, impaling myself, eager and panting, feeling that every inch of my skin was demanding more. I felt exposed and powerful at the same time, desired in a way I had forgotten.
“I missed you like this—wet, tight, moaning for me,” she murmured while she fucked me with her fingers and squeezed one of my tits over my blouse with her other hand.
All I could do was moan softly, lost in her mouth, while the city lights passed in blurs behind the fogged-up windows. The trip to her apartment was a sweet torture. We touched each other nonstop; she pushed me against the seat whenever the traffic light allowed it and drove her fingers into me to the knuckle, while I clumsily unbuttoned her pants until I managed to slip my hand inside and found her pussy soaked, swollen, throbbing beneath my fingers. I rubbed her mercilessly while she drove, watching her grip the wheel and bite her lip so she wouldn’t close her eyes. Her laughter mingled with my muffled moans and the wet sound of my fingers entering and leaving her pussy. It was madness, and we knew the best was yet to come.
When she finally parked, she took my hand and didn’t let go. We went inside nearly tripping over each other. She slammed the door shut and, before I could react, had me pressed against the wood.
My back felt the slight impact, but my whole body tensed when Renata pressed herself against me, breathing against my neck and tracing my skin with her tongue, slowly, deliberately.
“Look at you,” she said softly. “With that skirt so short, your naked pussy dripping and your tits hard. You knew you’d end up like this from the moment you walked into the cinema.”
I felt myself coming apart inside. I lowered my eyes and nodded without a word, like someone confessing something forbidden and delicious at the same time. Her hands didn’t wait. They seized the hem of my black blouse and yanked it up, leaving my breasts bare. My nipples hardened instantly, sensitive even to the brush of the draft. She didn’t waste time: she bent down to catch them in her mouth, sucking them, biting them, tugging at them with her teeth until I cried out, while her other hand unfastened my skirt. She ripped it off me. I was left against the door, naked except for my heels, trembling, my pussy streaming down my thighs.
She knelt right there. She lifted one of my legs over her shoulder and buried her face between my thighs without preamble. I felt her hot tongue travel the entire slit of my pussy, from bottom to top, then stop at my clitoris and suck it hungrily. I arched against the door, seeking her mouth, pressing her head against me. She sucked me, licked me, thrust her tongue inside my pussy and returned to my clitoris, while two fingers entered and left me with an obscene wet sound that echoed through the hallway. My knees buckled. I came right there, with her tongue buried in my clitoris and her fingers sunk deep inside me, biting the back of my hand so I wouldn’t wake the neighbors. She kept licking me while I trembled, drinking everything that flowed from my pussy.
“I want to taste all of you. All night,” she said, standing with her mouth shining with me, and it wasn’t a question.
***
She led me to the bed, pulling my hand with that decisiveness I loved so much. She laid me down carefully, but with restrained appetite too, as if she had spent months waiting for exactly this moment. Then she undressed in front of me, unhurriedly, enjoying my gaze fixed on her.
She wore simple, tight black underwear, the kind that leaves little to the imagination and multiplies desire. When she unclasped her bra and let it fall, I couldn’t take it anymore. Her soft tits, her dark, hard nipples, the curve of her hips, the way the little streetlight illuminated her against the window. She lowered her thong slowly, and I saw her shaved pussy, glistening with desire between her thighs.
“Come here. Sit on my face,” I said, almost voicelessly.
She climbed onto the bed and straddled me, bracing her knees on either side of my head. Her pussy hovered right above my mouth. I lifted my head and gave her a long first lick, from bottom to top, and felt her shudder. I grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her against my face, burying my tongue between her swollen lips. I sucked her mercilessly, seeking her clitoris, circling it with my tongue, thrusting it inside her. She held on to the headboard, moving her hips against my mouth, riding my tongue and moaning louder and louder.
“Yes, like that, don’t stop,” she panted, looking down at me with glassy eyes.
I drove a finger into her ass while I kept sucking her clitoris, and felt her whole body contract. She came over my mouth, screaming, squeezing my face between her thighs and flooding my tongue with her taste.
She collapsed beside me, panting, but gave me no respite. She turned me over and put me on my knees, ass raised and face against the pillow. She kissed the nape of my neck, moved down my spine, my waist, my thighs. Every inch of me burned beneath her tongue. She spread my buttocks with both hands and licked me from my clitoris to my asshole without skipping a millimeter. I couldn’t keep still. I moved, moaned, called for her through clenched teeth, and she only laughed softly, savoring the effect she caused. She had a calm control over my body that drove me crazy, as if she knew every corner, every reaction by heart.
“Tonight you’re going to be my favorite toy. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk,” she told me in my ear amid the heat and sweat.
I shuddered beneath her, equally vulnerable and eager. Every fiber of my skin was alert, as if her hands left trails of fire wherever they passed. I was at her mercy, and the worst—or the best—was that I didn’t want to escape.
She opened the nightstand drawer and took out a thick black vibrator, shaped like a very realistic cock. Just watching her pick it up made me tremble and clench my pussy around nothing. Her mischievous smile said everything without a word. She brought it barely to my lips, brushing them, teasing me.
“Do you remember this? Open your mouth. Suck it properly—it’s going all the way into your pussy.”
I nodded breathlessly and opened my mouth. Of course I remembered it. She slipped it between my lips, and I sucked it as if it were a real cock, coating it with saliva, while she watched me masturbate myself with my free hand between my legs. I pulled it out with a strand of saliva, and she lowered it down my neck, between my tits, over my stomach, until it stopped at the entrance to my pussy.
“Spread your legs for me. Nice and wide,” she whispered hoarsely.
I obeyed. I loved obeying her. Her breath against my neck made me lose all sense of time. She thrust the vibrator deep inside me in one sudden motion, and I screamed. She switched it on, and I felt the vibration travel through my entire pussy and rise into my belly. She began moving it in and out, fucking me with it without mercy, while licking my clitoris with her tongue at the same time. I bit my lip to keep from screaming. She watched me with satisfaction, wielding that sweet power she had over me, playing with my reactions like someone who knew every secret of an instrument.
“That’s it, squeeze the toy with that pussy. You’re so good for me, so wet, so mine,” she said, taking me by the chin and forcing me to look into her eyes while she drove it into me faster.
The rhythm became wilder, deeper. The wet sounds of the vibrator entering and leaving my pussy filled the room, mixed with my moans. I stopped belonging to myself. In that moment, she was everything. My hands clung to the sheets, my hips following her as if they answered to someone else’s heartbeat. I came again, streaming around the toy and soaking her hand. Then she pulled out the vibrator and positioned me on top of her facedown, in a sixty-nine, my pussy once again over her face and her pussy waiting beneath my mouth. Our sweaty bodies rubbed against each other everywhere. I let myself fall against her skin, buried my face between her thighs, and sucked her while she did the same to me, both of us moaning against each other’s pussies as pleasure grew between us like a slow fire.
We stayed that way, one on top of the other, sucking, licking, fingering each other amid whispers, panting, and laughter broken by passion. Every new touch, every moan, was a wordless confession. I buried three fingers in her pussy while sucking her clitoris, feeling her shudder beneath my mouth and hearing her lose control just as she had made me lose mine. I returned every caress, every tease. We came almost at the same time, she screaming against my pussy, me trembling over her face, until we were both left tangled together, exhausted and shaking, our mouths and thighs shining with each other’s juices, no longer knowing where one of us ended and the other began.
When we finally lay still, breathing unevenly, our skin sticky with sweat and everything else, she brushed a lock of hair from my face and kissed my forehead. A tender gesture after so much intensity.
“We shouldn’t have let so many months go by,” she said.
I laughed softly, still breathless, and curled up against her chest. She was right. And from the way her hand sought the curve of my hip again and moved back between my legs, finding my pussy still swollen and wet, I knew we weren’t going to sleep yet.