Page 23 of Hung Up

We supported women’s wrongs here, folks!

Pierce was hiding behind his fingers and I slipped a hand over to squeeze his thigh. His trembling hand snatched mine quickly, adding it to the shield over his eyes.

“It’s not real, Pierce,” I whispered gently. “Do you want to leave?”

The barest of movement as he shook his head had me settling back into my seat. There was probably only another fifteen minutes left, anyway.

Leaning over to whisper, with each word I brushed the shell of his ear: “How’d you like to learn what else people do in a movie theater?”

Pierce glanced over to me, a question in the pinch of his brow. Drawing my finger over his light scruff, I tilted his face towards mine and kissed him. I’d sat us at the very top of the theater strategically, with exactly this intention.

The theater was pretty empty at four in the afternoon on a Wednesday—only a few people sat towards the front of the theater—but still. I wanted that privacy with him.

Pierce returned my kiss with ferocity, and I knew the blood coursing through his veins demanded release. Lips, tongues, and teeth clashed as screams of the dying played in front of us.

And they said romance was dead.

My chest heaved as he slipped a hand over my breast, sweeping a finger into the baby tee to tweak my nipple. I moaned into his mouth, and he caught the sound with his own. Pierce gripped one hand on the nape of my neck, cradling my face like a precious treasure, while the other continued to tease my nipples.

Pierce’s grip tightened once on the back of my neck, before sliding down to my hip, pulling me closer. My hands blindly reached for the armrest, rushing up for air and tossing it up as I did. When it no longer barred my access, I slid my knee over Pierce’s lap, right as Pierce yanked me on top of him.

His hands gripped my hips, rolling me as he thrust upwards into me. The thin material of my skirt meant I felt each and every roll of his cock on my pussy. I whimpered, trying to stay quiet as we kissed, but with second that passed, I felt myself drawing up to that edge.

Then suddenly my eyes were burning.

I pulled away and blinked, noting the empty theater and raised lights. Pierce’s lips were swollen and wet from our kiss, and I was sure mine were, too.

My shoulders shook with laughter as I slid off of him and turned around. An attendant had rolled in with his trash can, clearly waiting for us to notice him. Sheepishly, I waved as I fixed my top and grabbed Pierce’s hand to rush out of the theater and into the late afternoon.

“That was amazing,” Pierce exhaled. Exhilaration was written on his face, a sparkle to his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“You weren’t too scared?”

“I was terrified,” he said, wonder coating each word. “But I loved it. The thrill, the music, the passion . . . Is that what all movies are like?”

“No . . .” I trailed off, thinking about the vast catalog of movies and genres and tropes, and a smile split my face. It was going to be fun to discover all of the things he enjoyed. “But there are plenty like it.”

The crinkle of his eyes told me I’d spend the rest of my life helping him chase these moments, together.

Note to self: Wherever she leads, I’ll follow.

Readily. Gladly. Blindly.

It was dusk when we left the theater, a monsoon rolling in as we strolled along the scenic route in the parking lot. Humidity swelled and a hazy film of dust swirled around us. Even though it was still early, it was fairly dark out from the storm and the heat was somehow still in the nineties, despite being a few weeks away from Halloween. Pierce’s hand was warm in mine, swinging gently between us as we walked to my car.

As we passed a particular store, a lightbulb blinked on in my head.

I tugged Pierce’s arm, practically dragging him behind me as we entered a shop with no windows, its neon sign boasting Lilith’s Pleasure. I snuck a glance back to Pierce whose eyes were alight with lust, skipping over the various aisles as he checked out our newest location.

“See anything you like?” I winked and tossed a gentle elbow into his side.

Pierce rolled his neck to look at me and the corner of his mouth quirked. “Always,” he stage-whispered, before ducking down an aisle with . . . unique toys and apparatuses.

I followed a few steps behind, and we mostly laughed at the incredibly large and colorful silicone lengths that would rip me in two if we ever tried to use them.

“How do you think that even fits?” he asked, eyes wide with something like fear as he held a comically large dildo shaped like an octopus tentacle, fit with suction cups and everything.

“A lot of practice,” I answered. “And a shit ton of lube.”

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