Drive-in Theater

For Lena, the night wasn’t over yet.

She quickly drifted off again and suddenly found herself in front of the old drive-in theater on the outskirts of town. The large, slightly faded screen loomed against the night sky; the parking lot was sparsely filled, but there were enough people there to watch the movie. The smell of popcorn, cheap gas, and a warm summer night hung in the air.

Standing next to her was the nerd from the locker room.

He was in his early twenties, slender, a bit awkward in his movements, wearing glasses and a plain T-shirt. In real life, Lena would never have given him a second glance. Here, he was holding her hand as if she belonged to him.

She was wearing a skimpy, thin dress made of lightweight fabric—a short skirt, a tight top, and a long zipper down the front that ran from the neckline to the hem. Nothing underneath. No bra, no panties. On her feet were tall, tight boots that reached above her knees. Fuck-me boots. She felt the warm asphalt through the soles and the breeze between her bare labia every time the skirt moved.

Her body was smiling at him.

“Come on,” he said, pulling her toward the snack bar.

The snack bar was a small, brightly lit kiosk with a line of maybe ten or fifteen people. As they got closer, heads turned. She didn’t recognize anyone. Their faces seemed somehow empty, as if they weren’t real. Still, Lena felt the stares on her legs, on her low-cut neckline, on the zipper that was already open a bit and revealed the tops of her breasts. The nerd wrapped his arm around her waist; his hand slid lower and gripped her butt firmly. Through the thin fabric, everyone could tell there was nothing underneath.

He kissed her, right in the middle of the line. Not briefly. Deeply and possessively. His tongue pushed into her mouth; one hand remained on her butt, while the other slid forward and stroked her lower abdomen. Lena kissed him back. Her body pressed against him, while inside she was seething with shame and anger.

Someone behind them whistled softly.

The nerd broke the kiss, grinned, and reached for the hem of her skirt. In front of everyone present, he lifted it up from behind, exposing her bare butt. Her smooth, firm buttocks, the deep crease, the start of her shaved slit below. For a few seconds, he held the fabric up so everyone could get a clear view. Then he let it fall again and patted her buttock possessively.

“My girlfriend,” he said loud enough for the men standing around to hear. A few laughed approvingly; one muttered, “Lucky guy.” Their eyes lingered on Lena—lustful, envious, lecherous. She felt her labia grow wet under their stares, against her will.

They ordered something she didn’t really pay attention to. While they waited, he stood behind her, both hands under her skirt, kneading her bare ass, spreading her cheeks slightly, running his fingers through her already wet slit. Lena leaned her head back against his shoulder and moaned softly, even though she hated herself for it. People were watching. Some pretended to be looking at the screen. Others stared openly.

Once they had their drinks, he led her to his car. It was parked relatively close to the front, in the second or third row, with a good view of the screen and—more importantly—a good view from the other parking spaces. Anyone walking by or looking out from the neighboring cars behind them would see what was happening inside.

He opened the passenger door. Lena got in; her short skirt rode up as she did, exposing her completely for a moment. He walked around the car, got behind the wheel, and started the engine, just to turn on the heated seats and the interior light. Then he reclined the seat.

They sat in the passenger and driver’s seats, the doors locked, the windows down a hand’s width. Outside, shadows passed by—other couples, lone men staring curiously into the cars. Lena was wearing a short dress with no bra and no panties. As the first movie started and the screen flickered with naked bodies, the nerd was already reaching for her thigh.

Lena turned toward him, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his already hard cock. It was thicker than anyone would have expected, the glans moist and dark red. Without warning, she leaned down and took it into her mouth. Her head disappeared into his lap. From the outside, all you could see was her upper body moving rhythmically up and down, her blonde hair falling over his crotch, and her head disappearing completely between his legs again and again. She sucked deeply, letting the glans press against her palate, coating it with saliva until it glistened and dripped. Every time she took the cock all the way down her throat, all that could be seen from outside was her backside on the seat and the movement of her head, which made it unmistakably clear what she was doing.

A man stopped next to the car and stared straight through the window. Lena noticed him but didn’t stop. On the contrary—she pulled the cock out of her mouth, licked it slowly from the base to the tip, looked the voyeur briefly in the eyes, and then disappeared again with the entire shaft in her mouth. The nerd groaned, one hand in her hair, and thrust upward slightly. Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth onto his pants and his balls.

After a while, she sat up, wiped her mouth, and climbed over to him. She pushed her dress up until it was only around her waist and straddled him. The hard cock slid right into her wet pussy. She was already dripping wet, her labia closing tightly around the shaft. Lena began to ride—slowly at first, then harder. With both hands, she pulled her dress up further, showing off her firm tits to the man outside and anyone who happened to be passing by. Her nipples were hard, her breasts bouncing with every up-and-down movement. She deliberately looked outside as she lowered herself onto his cock until it disappeared completely inside her, then rose again so that people could see the glistening shaft sliding out of her.

The nerd gripped her hips tightly and thrust upward from below. The car rocked slightly. Lena moaned louder as he thrust deeper and leaned back, her hands on the dashboard, so that her tits were even more clearly visible. The wet smacking sound could be heard even through the half-open window.

He fucked her bareback and without restraint. Every thrust drove his cock all the way into her. Lena felt it getting thicker, his balls tightening against her ass. “Come inside me,” she whispered right into his ear. “Mark me. I want to feel it.”

The nerd groaned hoarsely, grabbed her ass with both hands, and rammed upward a few more hard times. Then he came. His cock pulsed deep inside her, hot spurts of cum shooting directly against her cervix. Lena felt every single spurt as it spread inside her, warm and thick. She stayed seated, his cock still fully inside her, and moved her hips in tight circles so it would spread even deeper.

As she slowly lifted herself up, the cum immediately began to ooze out. A thick, whitish gush ran from her open pussy over his still half-hard cock and dripped onto his pants and the seat. Lena reached between her labia with two fingers, spread them apart, and showed the man outside and the nerd himself how the cum was running out of her in thick strands. It dripped onto the car’s carpet, leaving shiny spots.

She didn’t sit back down right away. Instead, she knelt on the seat, her ass turned toward the window, and let the rest drip out while the nerd watched from behind. He ran his fingers through the dripping cum and pushed it back into her pussy. “Stay inside,” he murmured.

Lena moaned as he slid his sticky fingers back inside her and pushed the cum deeper. Then she turned around, took his still-glistening cock into her mouth again, and licked it clean—her own juices mixed with his cum. From the outside, all you could see again was her head moving up and down on his lap as she sucked him hard once more.

He pulled her onto his lap again, this time with her face toward the window. Lena braced herself against the dashboard, her tits exposed and bouncing, and let him fuck her bareback from behind. Every thrust drove fresh cum and new moisture out of her. It ran down her inner thighs, dripping onto the seat. Outside, three men were now standing there, staring openly. Lena looked them straight in the eyes while the nerd took her hard, rubbing her clit until she came herself—her pussy spasmed around his cock, and even more cum and her own juices gushed out in a thick stream, leaving a wet trail on the leather seat.

When he came inside her a second time, he stayed buried deep and pressed her ass tightly against him so nothing could escape. Only after a while did he pull out. The cum immediately oozed out in thick, sticky strands from her wide-open pussy, over her labia, down her perineum, and dripped onto the floor of the car. Lena reached for it, smeared it over her labia and inner thighs, and whispered, “Marked. For you.”

The nerd leaned back, his glasses askew, his cock glistening and going limp, and watched as his load ran out of her and smeared across his passenger seat. Outside, the men slowly walked on. And inside the dark car, Lena was still sitting with her legs spread, her dress hiked up, letting the cum flow out of her, while the nerd traced her with his fingers and pushed it back inside again and again.

He woke up with a start.

The room was dark; only the faint glow of the cell phone on the nightstand cast a bluish light on the wall. His heart was pounding, his mouth was dry, and between his legs there was a hot, heavy throbbing. The comforter had slipped to one side; his hand was still on his cock—flaccid now, but sticky and sensitive. He groaned softly as he moved his fingers and felt the dried film of semen that had coated his glans and shaft.

What kind of dream was that, again?

The images still hung before his eyes like a veil. The blonde from the mall. The 20-year-old he’d seen while restocking the shelves. That innocent yet knowing smile as she browsed through the clothes. He’d been able to watch her for hours, between the aisles, always pretending to be taking inventory. And then she’d disappeared into the fitting room.

In reality, of course, he hadn’t done a thing. He was the type who looks away, who blushes, who retreats to the staff restroom and secretly jerks off while imagining pulling back the curtain, taking her from behind, feeling her smooth, shaved pussy. But he hadn’t dared. Never.

In the dream, everything had been different.

She’d seen him. She’d left the curtain open on purpose. She’d undressed for him, taken the selfies, stuck her ass out, spread her labia, shown her pink asshole. And then she’d beckoned him over. “Take pictures.” He’d trembled as he raised the phone, but he’d taken them—close-ups of her dripping pussy, of the fingers spreading her asshole, of the wet slit contracting. Exactly those photos.

He reached for the phone, unlocked it with shaky fingers. The gallery folder opened on its own, as if it had been waiting for this the whole time. And there they were. Three, four, five pictures. Some were blurry because his hands had been shaking, but clear enough. The blonde on all fours, her skirt hiked up, her smooth slit, the cum that had run out of her in a later dream…

He scrolled slowly. Every picture made his cock twitch again. The memory of the smell in the stall, of the wet smacking sound as she’d touched herself, of her gaze that said: I know you’re watching, and I want it.

He’d found the photos the next morning. Really found them. On his phone. As if the dream had put them there. He’d tried to forward them—to himself, to the cloud, anywhere. Nothing had worked. The files couldn’t be copied, sent, or saved. Only viewed. And jerked off to.

That’s what he’d done. For hours. Until he passed out, as he now realized. His hand had fallen asleep, his forearm was numb, the comforter covered in dried stains. He must have dozed off in the middle of jerking off and immediately started dreaming about her again—this time in the car, at the adult movie theater, as she rode him and flashed her tits at the people outside, as his cum ran out of her and he pushed it back in, marking her.

He placed his cell phone on his chest and stared at the ceiling. His cock was half-hard again, just from the images and the afterimages in his head. The blonde. The real one he’d seen at the market. He didn’t even know her name. Only that she’d looked at him, briefly, before she went into the fitting room. And that in that moment he’d wished he could rip open the curtain and just take her.

Of course, that wasn’t possible.

But the photos were there. Inexplicably. And the dreams were coming back.

He reached for his cock again, slowly stroking the sticky skin, and opened the gallery once more. The blonde’s eyes on the screen seemed to be looking right at him as she lay on all fours, opening herself up for him.

“One more time,” he murmured hoarsely into the darkness. “Just one more time.”

And he began to jerk himself off until he was ready to die, while the images of her flickered across the screen.