The Stranger at the Cinema Wouldn’t Stop Looking at Me

I saw her in the dark before anything else. Her eyes shone like a cat’s in the night, fixed on me over her companion’s shoulder. We were in one of those small rooms at the back, where the movie was little more than an excuse and everyone knew why they were really there.

The projector’s dim light outlined her lips, voluptuous, parted. A gleam crossed her bare thighs while her man was devouring her breasts. Her blouse, pushed up and rumpled, barely covered her stomach, and she endured every tug without taking her eyes off me. Her mischievous stare was inviting me to something that still didn’t have a name.

We had arrived less than half an hour earlier. It was the first time Marcos and I had dared to go into a place like this, after months of turning it over in bed, whispering to each other what we’d like to do and never quite daring. That night, without planning it too much, we got in the car and came. I walked through the door with my heart in my throat and my legs weak, convinced we’d turn around at any moment. We didn’t.

I let things happen to me. Marcos, my partner, struggled to pull down my underwear with one hand while with the other he held my nape, and I couldn’t take my eyes off that woman. Every time he squeezed me, I squeezed my thighs, and she noticed. She noticed everything.

She’s getting me hotter than she should and I haven’t even touched her.

She said something in her companion’s ear. The two of them turned their heads toward us at the same time. Marcos had his eyes closed, lost, and I was trying to take him all the way to the back of my throat, slowly, feeling him tense. A tap on his shoulder made him open his eyes. I didn’t hear what they said. I only know that a moment later she and I were finding each other’s mouths over our men’s bodies.

—I’m Renata —she whispered to me, almost voiceless.

—Julia —I answered, and that was the last coherent thing I said for quite a while.

We kissed with a calm that contrasted with everything else. Then I moved down to her breasts, smaller than mine but firmer, and took them in my hands while she watched me savor them. I felt her skin prickling at the first brush of my tongue over her nipple. I barely touched it and she was already sighing.

I was getting turned on by the taste of her body, by the warm scent she gave off. Her sex smelled sweet; I could sense the heat coming from it even though my hands were still far from her center. I could hear her holding her breath, restraining herself. Something was holding her back. I could tell from the way her mind kept working, weighing the situation, deciding how far to let herself go.

***

Her companion, aroused by watching us, brought his cock to my mouth. It was hard, wet, and I started licking the tip without stopping looking at Renata, who in turn was reaching for Marcos with her hand. It was obvious I wasn’t the only one who’d liked her. And how could he be blamed: the woman was gorgeous.

After a few minutes I heard Marcos moan. Renata had climbed on top of him and was riding him like an expert, right there, in a movie seat, with no rush whatsoever. I, bent forward, was getting my own. That man’s hands — I never learned his name — were slapping my ass and holding my skirt like it was a leash. I was sure that the next day I’d have his fingerprints on my thighs. Seeing the two of them enjoy themselves so close, in the flesh, in close-up, turned me on like nothing else.

—Turn around —I heard Marcos say.

Renata obeyed and we were face to face. I stretched as far as I could until I was only a few centimeters from her mouth and we kissed again, exchanging the taste of our men. Her mouth smelled like him, and recognizing him on her lips drove me wild. Marcos noticed and urged us on with his voice not to separate, to keep touching each other while he sank into my wetness.

My skin was burning. Thick drops of sweat ran down my back, my heart hammered in my chest, and my head turned to chaos. At some point I stopped thinking. I simply felt, and felt a hell of a lot.

What surprised me most was how easily modesty had evaporated. In my normal life I found it hard to get undressed with the lights on, and there I was, legs spread in front of strangers, kissing a woman I’d met ten minutes earlier, with not a trace of shame. It was as if the darkness of the room had also switched off the part of my brain that always told me what was right and what wasn’t.

Renata must have felt the same, because every time our eyes met a smile escaped her, a mix of astonishment and pleasure. We were both discovering the same thing at the same time, and somehow that bound us together more than any caress.

Renata endured Marcos going in and out of her, her gaze always locked on me. Our breasts swayed in the same rhythm. Both of us, bent over, with no support other than the men’s hands on our hips, took the thrusts without holding anything back. We moaned shamelessly, showing each other how much we liked it.

***

A crowd of voyeurs had gathered around us, delighting in the show. It wasn’t unusual in that place, but the way we were giving ourselves over had something different about it, something that drew the eyes. Someone came up with his cock in his hand, looking for my mouth. Balancing myself, I took it with my left hand and started moving it, matching the motion of my wrist to the swing of my hips.

When I looked at Renata again, she too had several men around her demanding attention. With each hole occupied and her hands full, she rode happily, and I wasn’t falling behind. Marcos was enjoying the feast in front of him, not missing a detail.

Little by little that tiny room filled with moans and the smell of sex. The cramped space grew heavy with sweaty bodies seeking one another out without order or rules. My mouth, busy on one cock and then another, barely let out any muffled moan. I lost track of everything. I felt myself being passed from one man to another, my mouth emptied only to be filled again immediately.

My jaw hurt. My throat was dry, I was thirsty, my body drenched in sweat. My legs were trembling and I was starting to tire, but something in that loss of control kept me lit up. Every time I thought I couldn’t take any more, a new hand would turn me, position me, and it would start all over again.

I searched for Renata among the bodies. She gave me a tired, complicit smile, as if to say we were in the same boat. We had become the center of that little chaos, and neither of us knew how or when it would end.

***

Marcos had long since asked for relief. I saw him sitting a little farther away, watching me, waiting for me to finish. Renata was in the same state as me: asking for a break, but as soon as one man was done, another took his place. We didn’t know when they’d let us alone.

It was Marcos who finally came to my rescue. Seeing me exhausted, he pushed his way through, firmly pulled away the ones still demanding me, and covered me with his body. Her companion did the same with Renata almost at the same time, as if the two of them had read the same signal. Suddenly we were two couples again, and the rest of the room slowly lost interest and went back to their own business.

I let myself fall against Marcos’s chest, still trembling, my breathing ragged. He brushed the wet hair from my face and kissed my temple without saying anything. No words were needed.

Some time later, seated the four of us in the last row, we shared a warm beer and laughed quietly about what had just happened. Renata had tied her hair up and her cheeks were still flushed. Her companion handed me the can with an awkward smile, as if now, half-dressed and talking like ordinary people, we were all a little embarrassed.

—I don’t usually do this —Renata confessed, and we both burst out laughing, because that was exactly what I was about to say. It turned out they weren’t regulars either; they’d spent weeks talking each other into it just like we had. Knowing that calmed me in a strange way, as if sharing the same fear made us real accomplices.

We agreed it had been one of the best experiences we’d ever had. Before leaving we promised to do it again, without too many details, just a phone number and the promise to call. The next time we saw each other was just as intense, if not more so, than that night. But I’ll tell you about that another time.