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Drinks And A Movie Part One


We meet at a bar for a few drinks, and it’s been a couple of weeks since our last night out, so we talk for a bit, mostly small talk, but we both know what we really want. The past several visits we usually had dinner or drinks and then went back to a hotel for maddening, earth-shattering sex, and up to this point that is mostly all we have done.  There were no complaints from either of us because normally after one of our nights out we both were exhausted and achingly sore (but in a good and satisfied way) from the most unbelievable, lust-filled, multi-position lovemaking that either of us have had in years. When we get together we were like hormone-driven, never-tiring teenagers with an insatiable appetite for trying new things and never wanting to stop touching and exploring each other. But tonight was supposed to be a little different.
While we were planning this particular visit via e-mail and calls, we both decided to do something a little different this time, and maybe drinks and a movie would be nice.  We both felt that even just being with each other, sometimes just holding hands was enough.  I know that when I am away from you that it is the very small things that I miss the most.  Sometimes the things that seem minor or unimportant at the time, even overlooked, but I think about them often when we are apart.  Like the way when you are talking to me, and I say something that makes you blush, you get a certain wistful look and sparkle in your eyes.  Like the way when we hold hands sometimes you move one of your fingers in a harmless and playful way against my palm.  Like the way that when you talk you sometimes brush your hair back away from your eyes.  Like the way when we passionately kiss, you place your hand behind my neck and brush my skin with your fingertips.  Like the way that when we are walking, I catch a glimpse of your beautiful ass in tight jeans that instantly makes me want to enter you from behind, just the way you like it…  The small things.
So when making plans we both agreed to see a new romantic comedy that is out, starring Johnny Knoxville and Kate Beckinsale.  After a few drinks we leave the bar and walk to my car, and I open the door for you to get inside.  (You really love the fact that I am such an old-fashioned type and I always hold the door open for you everywhere we go, especially when you are getting into my car, so chivalry is not dead). After you climb into the seat I suddenly realize that I had not kissed you yet this evening, and I lean in and do so.  I have been waiting patiently and longingly since our last visit to kiss you again, and as always, I am not disappointed.  You are a fantastic kisser and there is this little thing that you do where you return my passion with a firm, yet supple kiss of your own, but I always anticipate that familiar slight change in your breathing and the almost overlooked tremble in your lips and voice when you realize how much you miss my mouth on yours.  You think I don’t notice, but I do.  I always do.
 I compliment you on how great you look tonight.  You are wearing a sundress that shows just the right amount of cleavage, outlining your amazing breasts and shapely figure.  I know that I’m really going to have a hard time concentrating on the movie. The evening is slightly overcast, but we brought jackets, so we’re comfortable.  I close the door for you and we drive to the theater, and we park and then walk in and I buy the tickets.  I ask you if you would like popcorn or a drink or anything, but you say no because we just had a few drinks and didn’t want to take away from the good feeling so far.
If driving, I always limit myself to just one single drink, but you had a stressful week at work and so I insisted that you have a second drink at the bar to help you relax some and take your mind off of it.  For some reason the mixed drinks at the bar were a little strong, but no complaints here.  You are not drunk, but just very slightly tipsy in a really feeling-good-kind-of-way, so we go into the theater, and it is still a few minutes before the movie starts.  There are a few couples spread out sporadically throughout the seats, maybe a total of twenty people not including us, but we can see that there is nobody at all in the back several rows, so I take your hand and you follow me to the very back row, where we walk from the end aisle to the very middle of the back row and take the two middle seats.
We take off our jackets and drape them over the backs of our chairs, and you sit down in the seat next to me on my right.  You look at me and give a little close-mouthed smile and then lean your left shoulder in towards mine until they are touching, allowing you to rest up against me, almost as if even being here in this public place, our bodies call out to each other even in a small way to be in contact with each other.  (Yet another of those little things that make me miss you when we’re apart.)
The lights dim and the previews start.  After around five or so previews the movie starts.  It is a decent movie, funny in the right parts, somewhat romantic, but my mind is wandering. I reach over and touch your fingertips with mine to see if you are receptive to holding hands, and of course you are.  It’s clear to me that you miss my touch just as much as I miss yours.  The movie goes on for a while, but then something happens on screen.  There has been an emotional build up between the two lovers in the film, and it has led up to a really steamy sex scene, and it just so happens that you have a crush on Mr. Knoxville and you have always thought he was really hot and intriguing.
During the scene you start to shift a little in your seat.  I am still holding your hand, but I notice right away that you are just the tiniest bit aroused by what is happening on screen with the actor, and of course it helps that I am there with you and we are still holding hands.  Your eyes never leave the screen because you are transfixed on watching him make love to the actress in the film (and even though it is just R-rated movie acting sex, you don’t really care because your imagination is kicking into overdrive now).  I hadn’t noticed until now that you had reached down with your free hand and pulled up your skirt just a little, and this is when you gently guide my hand down to your vagina, and you are not wearing any panties because you always remember that it is such a huge turn on for me when you wear dresses without underwear.
You are very aroused, and I can feel your intense heat and wetness as I rub you gently at first with my fingertips, exploring you again.  I’ve used my hands on you before, so I know all of the exact spots to touch you and how to apply just the perfect amount of pressure, and the light touches that make your hips move and make you want to cry out with pleasure.  I am taking my time, deliberately touching you, sliding my fingers to your clitoris.  Playfully moving the tip of my index finger in a slow and firm circular motion makes you grind your pelvis into my hand.
You want more of my fingers and hand to explore you even further.  I move my fingers back down and insert my index finger inside of you, and you stifle a moan.  You want me to be inside of you, but you will have to wait.  Both of your hands are now gripping the hand that I am driving you crazy with.
I lean my face over to your ear and whisper, “Shhhh…”
I want you to be as quiet as a field mouse so that we don’t draw attention to ourselves, but you are breathing heavily and letting out a very small almost whimpering sound from trying to hold back.  I now insert a second finger into you, and continue to explore, moving them in a playful circular motion, deliberate but ever so gentle.  You take your left hand off of mine and reach over to my lap and find me fully erect underneath of my jeans. Now you finally make eye contact with me again, and you have such a heavenly lustful look in your eyes.  You know that we must give in to our pleasure, right now. You feel as if you are just about to start the familiar beginnings of a wonderous orgasm wave, but then without warning, I abruptly take my hand away from you.  It startles you slightly, but it is necessary.  I don’t want you to come yet…

I am a 45-year-old professional drummer and teacher, an amazing cook, and animal lover. Great sense of humor, and imaginative where it counts. Musicians describe me as the evil but funny lovechild of Chris Farley and Ginger Baker. :) Dying to read your comments, especially from the ladies...

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