Page 40 of Lip Service


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We stay this way for the first third of the movie, but my cock won’t rest at ease. At one point, she accidentally nudges my erection with her elbow, pulls away from me, and shakes her head with a gentle smile. “Seriously?” She scolds me in a hushed whisper. “You are embarrassing.”

“Please,” I scoff lowly and lean into her to whisper in her ear. “Don’t pretend like you don’t get off on the thought of people watching.”

She rolls her eyes, but I know on some level that I’m right. As soon as her eyes are back on the screen, I drop my hand against her inner thigh and I caress a path up her thigh until I’m palming her pussy through her jeans with one hand.

She lets out a hot exhale, her chest heaving ever so slightly. In seconds, she places her hand on my cock. For the next few minutes, she continues to watch the movie, all the while slowly pumping my cock through my jeans. I continue to tease her with my hand, creeping slowly to the button of her jeans and popping it with ease.

She swallows a nervous breath, cranes her head slightly to the couple five seats down. They’re not paying attention, they’re too lost in what’s happening on the screen.

It’s a tight fit, but I push my hand into her jeans and underneath her panties. Her feet dig into the floor as I caress my palm against her pussy, hot and ready. I want to pull her onto my lap and fuck her right here.

“Fuck,” I groan in her ear. “We should have watched that chick flick. Nobody would be in there watching that shit.”

“Shut up,” she says in a low, breathless whisper, and tilts her head back gently against the back of the seat. I curl my middle finger and push into her opening.

She lets out a low, but embarrassing squeal.

She freezes in place.

I freeze in place.

She cocks her eyes to me, fire and hunger swirling in their dark depths. “We should go,” she whispers.

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