Afternoon at the Movies

Hello everyone. Here is a small tale about a young man who encounters a fun surprise in a movie theater (not an adult theater, mind you). The story includes aspects of seduction, humiliation and an older-younger encounter. I hope you enjoy it and I look forward to your feedback. Hopefully you will want to see more. I like this idea because this situation could easily be one where the main character could be either male or female and the story would still work.

*****

I sat frozen, looking at my computer. The blinking cursor on my screen provided the only movement in my cubicle. I knew I wasn't going to get anymore work done today. It was just one of those days where I could not stand to be in my office anymore. I needed to get out of here. I needed to be... anywhere but here.

Then an idea came to me. I fired up the browser on my computer, furtively looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching and checked the show times at a local art-house theater not far from where I lived, but far enough from my office that I wouldn't accidentally run into anyone. I felt like going and seeing a movie, but I was very worried that someone in my office would see what I was looking at. No, the site itself wouldn't get me in trouble, but the movie I wanted to see might reveal a little more about me than I wanted people to know. Fortunately, the coast was clear and my eyes returned to the screen, to the poster of the film that I was dying to see.

I gulped as I looked at the picture. It showed a cute young guy staring upwards, tense and awestruck, into the eyes of an older, dominant-looking man. The older guy had a cocky smile on his lips and his big, rough hand cupped the younger guy's face, as if on the verge of kissing him. I shifted in my seat, as my dick twitched stiffer. I was bored. I was horny. I needed a distraction. And I needed to see that film. Irrespective of the plot, I was certain that, at the very least, it would give me reams of images to masturbate to later.

It was 1:21 now, the film started at 2:05 so I had plenty of time to get out of the office and get over there. An afternoon gay film on a Tuesday at an art-house theater made me feel confident that I would most likely be very alone which helped a bit to cure my paranoia about being seen by someone I knew. I closed down my laptop, untucked my polo shirt in an attempt to cover my growing hard-on and then walked to my manager's office. I knocked on the door frame to the open room and said, "Hey, Marie, I'm gonna take some vacation time and take the rest of the day off. I'm not feeling well and I think I just need to go and clear my head." It was not really a lie. I did not feel well. I felt closed in and my mind was about to burst from sitting in front of my monitor. And I was horny.

Marie was a middle aged woman. She always had a smile on her face and you could see a complete joy for life behind her eyes. Flashback a few years and maybe a hundred pounds and I bet she was beating the men off with a stick.

"Everything ok?" she said with a sincere note of care in her voice. She was, in my limited experience, the best manager I had ever worked for. She did her job without feeling the need to micromanage or belittle her staff.

"Yeah, I'm just not feeling right and I think it would be better for me to take a few hours off and clear my head and get a fresh start in the morning. All my reports are in, did them first thing this morning."

"Ok, well if you need anything, let me know," she said.

"Will do," I replied. "Thanks."

I left the opening of her office and strode down the hall towards the exit of the building. Walking out the front door, the beautiful spring sun enveloped my body and my ideas for the afternoon almost changed. It was such a beautiful day that it might be even better to just head to the river and enjoy the wonderful weather. The outdoor scene would definitely cure my office blues. In the end though, I decided a good movie would do me well. It was a decision I would later be glad I made.

I hopped in my car, turned the ignition and felt the car's AC begin to blow. I backed out of the space, exited the lot and headed to the theater 20 minutes away.

I pulled into the theater's parking lot 22 minutes after leaving my office. Drive time plus the time it took me to let Marie know I was leaving and walking to my car made it 1:49. I had 16 minutes till the film started which was enough time to get my ticket, a refreshment, hit the restroom and make it to my auditorium in time. I told the cashier the name of the movie I wanted to see, but I kept my face down, hidden as much as possible. I was still very paranoid about someone recognizing me.

I walked into the theater five at precisely 2:00. A quick survey of the seats confirmed my previous notion. I was alone. It was a smaller auditorium, maybe seating 100 patrons, but that made it even better. It really felt like I had my own private screening. I found a seat two-thirds of the way up in the middle and sat down.

I had been anxious to see this film for a while now, but none of my friends were interested in seeing it. I would be surprised if any of them even knew about it. It definitely wasn't a main-stream movie and all of my friends were very macho, pussy-chasing hetero-guys. To their knowledge, so was I. And I was. Well, the pussy-chasing part at least. I'm definitely not the most macho out of my friends and according to these feelings in my head, I wasn't exactly 100% hetero either. I would be mortified if they found out that I wanted to see this movie. Or had come to see this movie. Or wanted to be with a guy.

I was literally paranoid of being found out. I wasn't ready to publicly 'out' my feelings as I was still trying to come to terms with them myself. But here, alone, in this theater in the middle of the day, I felt about as safe as I could feel regarding my friends finding out what I was up to.

About a minute before the scheduled start of the movie, I noticed another patron come around the light barriers and stand facing the screen. He was an older gentleman, maybe in his mid-forties which made him probably 20 years my senior. I could barely make out some salt and peppering in his hair, but he obviously kept in great shape. He was wearing black slacks and an off-white polo shirt. He stood about 6' from what I could gather and looked powerful. Not in a "ripped with bulging muscles" kind of way, but in an "I command any room I walk into" kind of way. He had muscles, that was clear from the way his polo clung to his upper back, shoulders and biceps, but it was more than that. There was an air of power to him. Like maybe he was in a powerful position at his job.

I, on the other hand, was almost a polar opposite. Obviously the age factor was there, but where he was strong, powerful and beaming with apparent confidence, I was small, meek and a bit on the shy side. I was a good four inches shorter than him from what I could tell and he easily outweighed me by what I would guess was 30 or 40 pounds. I've always been lean and trim with the body of a swimmer, but he had the physique of an athlete who was used to contact in his sports. Maybe a quarterback or La Crosse player. His hair was professionally manicured while mine was a bit longer and streaked with a natural dirty blonde color.

"Well," I thought to myself, "so much for being alone." Although, if I was going to share a movie with someone else, I could think of much worse company.

He looked around and saw me sitting alone and upon noticing me, a smile crossed his face like he had found what he was looking for and he nodded ever so lightly. It could be taken as nothing more than a polite gesture, but something inside me told me it was more. What that "more" was, I couldn't quite define, but I sensed it. He strolled up the steps and walked down the aisle behind mine, sitting directly to my right behind me.

"And here I thought I would be the only one playing hooky from work today to come see this," he said. His low voice rumbled through my body, right to my loins. It made my cock twitch just from hearing it.

I tilted back towards him, boy was he even more handsome up close, and said with a small laugh, "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." His eyes were a piercing silver-blue which stood out like beacons on his tan face.

"Have you seen this yet?" he inquired.

"Nope. This will be my first time," I said.

"Oh really? Well first times are always the best," he said. Then smiled.

The lights in the theater dimmed and the green screen denoting a coming attraction lit up the auditorium. Two trailers played before I heard him speak again.

"It kind of feels weird, me sitting up here, you one row down, both of us alone," he said. I turned my head back to him. "Why don't you come sit up here with me and let's watch the movie together." He patted his hand on the seat directly to his left and just grinned. It was a cocky smile. One that he was probably very used to using as I imagined he was very rarely said "no" to.

I kind of shrugged and said, "Ok, I mean, if you don't mind."

"Mind? I'm the one that told you to," he said.

I suddenly felt very stupid and shook my head in disgrace. I then looked back at him and he was still smiling. Still patting the seat next to him.

I got up, grabbed my Sprite and walked down the aisle to my left, went up a step and walked down his row to him. I had knots in my stomach for some reason. I was here in a theater about to watch a gay movie and now a handsome older man was asking, or actually, telling me to watch it with him. No big deal, right?

I sank down next to him into the seat and sat there awkwardly.

"I'm Patrick," he said and reached out his hand.

I took his hand and said, "Bobby."

"Bobby, huh?" he said. "That's the young man's name in this movie as well. The one that gets seduced by the older man."

I hadn't even put the connection together before when I was wanting to see this movie. The film was about an outwardly facing straight guy who was coming to terms with his own homosexual feelings and was slowly seduced by someone he meets through a random encounter.

"Life mimicking art," I thought to myself. I then forced myself to stop. I was sure that I was making more out of a situation than was really there. I did that a lot. He was just a somebody, like me, who wanted to see a film and wanted to bypass the weird state of two people sitting alone in a somewhat large theater.

"So is it a good movie?" I asked as the third trailer played in the background.

"Quite good," he stated. "There is something quite beautiful when a confident man is able to open up the inhibitions of a younger man because he knows what the boy wants, probably even more than he does."

I said nothing.

I found myself staring at him and then looked away to the screen. I kept my hands in my lap as the movie finally started.

Fifteen minutes went by and nothing more was said. I could even tell through my peripheral vision that he wasn't even looking at me. I confirmed what I believed. My overactive imagination had told me there was something there when there was, in fact, nothing. We were two people, two strangers, enjoying a movie together.

I won't lie though. I wanted to be his. He was very handsome and sexy. I wanted him to make a move on me. To ask me out. To hold my hand. To fuck my face? To bend me over the seat and fuck me? Anything.

God, my mind really does go to dark places sometimes.

He did nothing.

He said... nothing.

The movie had progressed to after the two had met and the younger man, Bobby, was alone, in bed, wrestling with his thoughts. The scene showed him, artfully, writhing in bed as he wrestled with his emotions and feelings. Eventually, his hand went below the sheets and there was no mistake in what he was doing. He was masturbating while thinking of the man in the film. It wasn't pornographic in the least. It was beautifully shot, with the color draining from the screen and leaving it a dreamy black and white.

I almost didn't notice as my eyes were transfixed on the screen, but Patrick leaned over and whispered close to my ear. "Isn't that beautiful?" he asked. "His body knows what he wants."

I heard his words and watched as the young man was shown pleasuring himself. Beautiful shots of his face lost in pleasure, his hand moving unmistakably under his sheet and his body slowly writhing on the bed.

I too found myself mimicking the young man on the screen. I was shifting ever so slightly in my seat. Squirming even. I was becoming completely erect, but my cock was confined uncomfortably in my pants. I wanted to move with more purpose to allow myself to get a full extension, but that would be too noticeable. I wanted to reach down, lift my hips, grab my cock and adjust myself, to touch myself, to free myself, but that would absolutely be noticeable. I clinched and released my ass, shifted from side to side, desperately trying to relieve some of the frustrating confinement. I felt like I was stuck in a cock-cage, unable to get a nice, full erection and it was driving me crazy.

I was starting to breathe heavy.

I could feel his breath on the side of my face.

"I can tell you like this," he said. "You ARE gay, aren't you?" he asked, more of a statement though. Like he was confirming his suspicions.

"Y-yeah, I mean, no, well, I...," I stuttered my answer back to him. I knew I wasn't fully gay, so that was a lie, but I wasn't NOT gay, so that would be a lie too.

"I know what you mean son," he said. "You are like a lot of men out there. Secretly bi-sexual, openly straight.

Fuck. It was like he knew me exactly.

The young man on the screen had orgasmed. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, his body heaving from heavy breaths as the camera slowly moved in on his face to catch, in perfect time, a single tear fall down his cheek.

I nodded. To the man effecting me on my right. To the internal conflict that I identified with in the man on the screen.

I felt him place his hand on my right forearm and I tensed up. My hands were still bunched up between my legs, but he pulled my arm towards him. I offered so little resistance, there might as well have been none. He placed his left arm on the armrest and positioned my arm so that it was on top of his and my hand just fell into his. He locked his fingers around mine, looked at me, smiled and then turned back to the screen.

I was holding hands with a stranger in a theater.

The movie played on for maybe another 20 minutes as we sat there. Our palms began to get sweaty as they always do when you hold hands for extended periods of time. He unlocked our fingers and then slid his hand off of the armrest down to my knee. The feeling was electric. His hand wrapped around my lower thigh, just above my knee and stayed there. My hand had awkwardly stayed on top of his and now I felt very strange at the way I was sitting, my arm just lying on his as he held my leg.

"Here," he motioned with his other arm, "put your arm here on the armrest."

I did as I was told, removing my arm from his and placing on the divide between us. He began to caress my leg, moving slowly up my inner thigh.As he moved up, he pulled my legs apart. There was no mistaking what he was doing.

My cock was straining in my pants.

His hand continued to creep higher and higher. I was subconsciously lifting my hips ever so slightly, trying to push my cock towards his hand, but my conscious mind was arguing with my subconscious self.

"How can you let this man, this stranger, touch you like this?"

Because I wanted to be touched by him.

"Why are lifting your hips to meet his hand? You are in a public place!"

Because I need to be touched by him.

"He's treating you like a cheap slut. Only cheap sluts let strangers feel them up in public places."

I wanted to be his slut.

"You know he sees you as nothing but an easy slut so why would you let him do this?"

I need to be his slut.

On screen, the young man was about to leave the house of the older gentleman. I honestly couldn't remember why he had been there, but as he was leaving, the old man pushed him against a door, his back to the older man and I watched as his arms were raised above his head. The older man was kissing on his neck and the younger man was lost in feelings as his head fell back and his eyes were clamped shut.

I felt Patrick shift and soon his mouth was near my ear again.

"I love this part. The man knows what he wants, knows what Bobby wants and takes it. He's in control," he said.

He removed his hand from my upper thigh and lifted up the armrest between us. I had to lift my hand as he did and as I was bringing it back down, he grabbed it and placed it on the inner part of his upper thigh. I immediately felt his large cock down the leg of his pants.

He said nothing.

He moved back to a normal sitting position, but my hand remained in his lap. On his thigh. Grasping his dick.

I could feel the heat of it emanating through his slacks. I sat puzzled for a moment. This whole thing was so surreal. I watched as the two new lovers on screen went at each other, the older man obviously the dominant. Clothes were pulled from their bodies as they lost themselves in their passion.

I began to move my hand up and down his thigh, up and down his cock. Grasping it. Squeezing it. Feeling it. Lusting after it. We watched as the men made love on screen, the entire time, my hand caressed his dick. He pulled me closer, put his arm around me and soon I was leaning on his shoulder as I explored him.

"That feels so good baby boy," he said. He reached around with his right hand and tucked two fingers under my chin and brought my face up to his. He leaned down and we kissed. I melted into him. I repositioned myself, exchanging my right hand with my left hand on his cock and kissed him even more passionately.

We kissed for what seemed like hours. Our tongues intertwined and he nibbled on my lips and neck. He moved up to my ears and I lost it. I began to whimper from the pleasure he was bringing me. With his mouth on my ear he said, "Take my cock out."

It was a simple command, yet it was a powerful one.

"H-here?" I panted.

"Yes," was all he said.

I moved my hand up to his belt and pulled the black leather strap through the silver buckle.

We kissed more.

My hands fumbled at the button of his slacks.

He nibbled on my lower lip.

I released the zipper down.

He moved his mouth to my neck.

I reached in through his boxers and grasped the base of his dick. It felt magnificent.

I pulled his cock out of the confines of his pants and held it out in the open air. It was large and beautifully shaped. I began to stroke him openly as he continued to kiss my neck. The soft, pink skin of his dick slid easily up and down the rigid shaft. I watched as my hand explored him while he moved his mouth back to my ear. I was salivating. I wanted to feel his large, spongy head in my mouth. I wanted to take his entire manhood into me.

There is something so sensual in watching your hand glide up and down a big, beautiful cock. I've given a few hand-jobs to completion in the past because I loved watching the erotic visual display that ended with long ropes of cum spurting up and then falling back down on your lover's abs and your own hand as you continue to pump the shaft. But I knew I wouldn't be satisfied with just jacking him off. I wanted more this time. I wanted to feel him in my mouth. I wanted to experience every texture, every vein, every curve of his dick filling me, thrusting in and out. I wanted to feel him explode across my tongue. I wanted to taste his cream.

"Suck my cock, Bobby," he said, almost as if he was reading my mind. "I know you want to. It is what you wanted to do the moment I walked into this theater. You wanted to be on your knees for me."