The crowd surged back into the auditorium, swallowed by darkness and the opening score. Arin moved with them, then suddenly pivoted, pretending he'd forgotten something. He slipped back to the heavy door just as Lyra approached, both hands clutching the popcorn buckets.
He knew these doors, stiff, old, never swung open on their own. Arin seized the handle and pulled it wide, holding it for her like a gentleman.
"Thank you, kid," she said, voice warm, a grateful smile flashing in the dim light.
"My pleasure, Lyra ma'am," he answered, matching her tone perfectly.
The theater lights died completely. The movie began.
As she brushed past him, Arin leaned in just enough and dropped the third grenade, low and smooth. "Ma'am… that red dress looks incredible on you."
The compliment detonated deep inside her.
A blinding wave of heat crashed through her core, igniting her pussy like someone had struck a match between her thighs. Slick, aching need flared instantly, an itch that demanded to be scratched, hard and nonstop.
Her steps slowed, almost stumbling.
'Yeah… feel it, Lyra. I know you do', Arin thought, lips curling into a dark smirk she couldn't see.
He didn't let up.
"And your fashion sense is just as perfect as your fitness," he added, voice calm, almost innocent.
That was the fourth strike.
Her knees buckled. A soft, involuntary whimper caught in her throat. The woman who craved endless sex lost the battle right there in the dark. Four compliments, four direct hits, and her self-control shattered like glass.
She turned.
Her eyes found him through the flickering screen light, pupils blown wide, chest rising fast.
A single, slow nod. Come here.
Arin stepped closer.
"What the hell are you doing to me, huh?" she whispered, voice thick with lust, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
He tilted his head, the picture of confused innocence. "What do you mean, ma'am?"
Arin widened his eyes in perfect, innocent confusion, tilting his head slightly to the left. Not a single word left his mouth.
Lyra leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear.
"You think it's funny getting me this horny and just walking away, huh…?" she whispered, voice low and dripping with need.
Arin blinked, the picture of bewildered innocence.
"What are you talking about, Lyra ma'am?".
Her eyes were half-lidded, pupils dark and glassy, lips barely parted.
"Wait for me outside. Five minutes. I'll be there… understood?" The words came out husky, almost a plea.
Arin gave a small, obedient nod. "Okay… just five minutes."
Then he turned and slipped out of the auditorium, the heavy door closing behind him with a soft thud that sounded a lot like the starting gun of a race he had already won.
Less than four minutes later, the auditorium door swung open again.
Lyra stepped out, eyes scanning the near-empty lobby like a predator on the hunt. She'd mumbled something about "lady problems" to the fat man—he hadn't even looked up from his phone.
She spotted him instantly—Arin leaning casually against the popcorn counter, pretending to study the menu board.
Their gazes locked.
With a subtle tilt of his head, he signaled toward the women's restroom on the opposite side. The lobby was almost deserted; the movie had swallowed everyone else.
They moved without a word.
The restroom door shut behind them. Lyra twisted the lock on the handicapped stall, and the world shrank to just the two of them.
Arin dropped onto the closed toilet lid, legs spread. Lyra sank to her knees in one fluid motion, hands already tugging at his waistband. Her pupils were blown wide, glazed with raw, animal lust.
She yanked his trousers down.
Even through the thin fabric of his underwear, the outline was obscene—thick, long, straining against the cotton like it was trying to break free.
Lyra froze, breath catching.
"Oh my god…" she whispered, voice trembling. "Is this real, or am I dreaming…?"
Fingers shaking with need and nerves, she hooked them under the waistband and pulled.
*SLAP*
His cock sprang free, heavy and veined, smacking hard against her left cheek. The thick, musky scent of pure male hit her like a drug, flooding her brain, making her mouth water instantly.
Arin looked down at her, smirking. "What's on your mind, Lyra?"
She swallowed hard, the sound loud in the tiled silence.
*Gulp*
"It's… impossible," she breathed. "A monster like this on a boy your age…"
"So," Arin said playfully, giving her cheeks two light, teasing slaps with his shaft, "what do you think you should do about it?"
Her mind short-circuited. Before she could answer, Arin leaned down and claimed her mouth in a deep, filthy kiss.
Smooch… slurp… slurp…
A few seconds later, Arin pulled back from the kiss, leaving her lips wet and swollen.
Lyra's hands moved on instinct. She gathered her hair into a quick, messy ponytail, then sank to her knees between his spread thighs. Her fingers circled his shaft, but even both hands couldn't close around its thickness.
She stared, awestruck, then leaned forward and dragged her tongue across the flushed tip.
Lick… lick… lick…
'There's no way this will fit in my mouth… God, why is it so big?' she whispered, voice trembling with hunger and nerves.
She opened wide and pushed forward anyway.
"Mmph—mmph—mph!"
Her lips stretched tight around the head, cheeks hollowing as she forced herself deeper. Saliva pooled instantly, dripping down the length she couldn't yet take. The fat crown pressed against the back of her throat, making her eyes water, but she didn't stop.
It fit, barely, snug against every inch of her mouth's walls.
Then she started moving: slow, wet pulls, tongue swirling, throat fluttering around him as she gave Arin the sloppiest, most desperate blowjob of her life in the locked silence of the handicapped stall.
*Gluck-gluck-gluck-slurp!*
She fought to take him deeper, lips stretched to their limit, throat fluttering as she forced every thick inch past her gag reflex. Each time she bottomed out, Arin's heavy balls slapped against her jaw with a wet, rhythm.
*thwack-thwack-thwack*
"Lyra…" Arin murmured, voice low and velvet, "you look so fucking cute and sexy right now."
The compliment hit her like gasoline on a fire.
Her eyes rolled back, a muffled moan vibrating around his shaft, and she sucked harder. Desperate and greedy.
*Gluck—gluck—slurp—glurck*
Saliva spilled from the corners of her mouth, dripping off her chin in shiny strands.
'That's it, Lyra… just like that', Arin thought, fingers tightening in her hair as he guided her deeper, a slow, demonic smile spreading across his face.
'Don't worry, pretty thing… soon I'll stretch that perfect pussy so wide and ruin it so completely that the only thing you'll ever think about, day or night, awake or asleep, will be this cock buried deep inside you. Hehe…'