Rubbing

The sound of the movie thundered around them, covering everything but the racing beat inside her chest.

Emily shifted—slow, deliberate. Her thighs parted just a little more, just enough to give her hips room to move. She angled herself better in his lap, the soft pull of her soaked thong dragging against the length of his cock through his jeans.

She could feel every twitch now, every pulse of heat between her legs, and it only made her wetter.

Her right hand slipped down—between her thighs, under the edge of her skirt. Careful, steady. She didn’t rush. Her fingertips slid along the ridge pressing upward from his fly, the denim hot from the friction of her body grinding against it. The bulge was thick, straining, easy to find.

Her fingers curled around it through the fabric.

He jerked slightly beneath her.

His breath caught. His hands gripped her hips harder, but he didn’t stop her.

She smiled.

Her palm moved with the same rhythm her hips had already started—back and forth, slow and steady. She stroked him in time with her grinding, letting her soaked slit ride his cock through two thin layers: one cotton, one denim, neither doing anything to stop what was happening.

Her fingers pressed deeper, rubbing harder, feeling how he twitched against her.

She bit her lower lip to hide the sound building in her throat.

He was panting now—quietly, helplessly. One of his hands slipped beneath her blouse again, squeezing her breast in time with her movements, thumb dragging over her nipple. She moaned into the back of her hand, barely audible.

His cock pulsed under her.

And then—he came.

Silent. Sharp. His whole body tensed under hers, then shuddered, breath shaking against her ear. She felt the rush of heat through his jeans, the slight wetness blooming beneath her palm, and her thighs clenched reflexively.

He sagged slightly, still holding her, breath uneven.

Emily stayed still for just a second longer, then slowly pulled her hand back, wiping her fingers along the inside hem of her skirt.

She adjusted herself like nothing had happened—settling back against his chest, skirt smoothed, popcorn still resting in the other hand.

Eyes on the screen. Cheeks glowing.

And a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.