More Fun at the Theater

This chapter originally written by BiBiComte, minor edits by Samus1001

Because copping feels of butts was supposed to be... normal.

Wanting big dicks in your pussy -- normal. Making sexualized YouTube videos to show off your tits and ass -- also normal.

Caleb glanced at Rachel wrapped around his arm. She, she was normal. A normal girl. A normal retail worker. A normal person, going about daily life.

Then along came Caleb Anders.

He'd barely owned this watch for a day, but somehow, he already felt like a walking hurricane.

...and it was great. Tickling the back of his mind was a faint semblance of a conscience, of a rally against hypocrisy. But a tickle didn't hold a candle to the sight of multitudes of girls bending over backwards to flaunt themselves, conduct themselves in slutty flairs, give anything, anything at all, to you, just because, you know, you had an unspoken power over them and men alike.

'Cause you got lucky.

"Rachel, have you ever been in a relationship before?"

Glancing up, the brunette looked into Caleb's eyes with a shrug. "Yeah, I'd say I've had my share alright." She wiggled a knuckle into his side. "Why, you worried about my sociopath ex?"

At Caleb's blink, she chuckled. "I'm kidding! Kidding. Yeah, they come and go, you know. Sometimes you think they'll grow into something more. Sometimes they were bad news from the start, but, yeah. Past is the past. I think a monk said that." With an impish grin, she moved forward for a kiss and Caleb obliged, meeting her halfway. Meanwhile, his hand slung below her waistline to rub her pert ass.

Screw it. It was too nice not to spank.

Smack!

As they pulled off, Rachel grinned and told Caleb that if he kept that up she'd be getting red down there.

Caleb grunted out a semi-laugh of his own, and as his date gamely rubbed her hand into his chest, they proceeded down, making a right into the hallway towards their room of choice, which was currently located at the very end of the darn thing. Mirror slits intermittently lined the walls.

"How about you, ever been with a girl, Caleb?" Rachel posed to the boy.

"Once." As they passed another giggly couple, Caleb reached over to brush the girl's leggings-covered butt with the back of his hand. No one reacted. Because of course not -- it went both ways, after all. He had to remind himself, not just of that -- but of the fact that everyone was accommodating his own twisted new norms, by instilling them into their brains as norms. Standards were putty, now, in his hands. But the essence of something like that of a relationship was still fundamentally the same...

The same, that is, until he decided to do something about it.

Caleb got to contemplatin'.

Just how... crazy could he go?

How ridiculously could he take it?

Could he make it incredibly specific?

There were still so much stuff he wasn't certain about.

Stuff that he could uncover with just a harmless 'ol test. In the here, in the n-"ow!" Rubbing his arm, Caleb swung his eyes back to Rachel. "And what was that for?"

The girl just rolled her eyes. "I was trying to get your attention, daydreamer," she gestured to the entrance of the theater room behind them. "We're here. And also, you completely ignored my question, didn't you?"

"I, uh, what question?"

"Well," she coyly tapped her chin, "you said you were with a girl, once, right? How was it? Did you two hit it off? Was she hot? Did you bang her with your huge rod, what?"

Chortling, Caleb tucked his boner between his legs with a subtle shimmy of the thigh. "Nah, nothing really serious. It was like a month-long fling. She was a friend of a friend."

"Mmm, so like that, huh?" Rachel nevertheless drew her hand down to squeeze his throbbing, inconveniently covered dick. Man, having chicks go willy over him and his cock was fun.

"Yeah," deciding to join the touchy-feely party, he moved his hand up and down her smooth arms, and around to the crook of her back, enjoying the sensation of just feeling a woman, and of being able to feel her up whenever, wherever. He silently sniffed her tactfully employed perfume. Flowery. Just like a young woman of her caliber should smell. "She was friends with my friend Angie, and then somehow my other friends had the brilliant idea of hooking us up. Not like it ever worked out. She was really into stuff like books, nature, soccer; all stuff I could only reply to with a 'Huh', 'Sick', 'Alright'."

A laughter was his effective reply. "Really? That's crazy, mister. I'm pretty sure no girl with her head screwed on right would turn down a guy like you. You're pretty much perfect boyfriend material, you know?"

"I am?" It was Caleb's turn to laugh, now. As Rachel responded with her own confused laugh, ("What's so funny?"), Caleb decided to give his little thought a go and excused himself to the men's restroom, leaving Rachel behind to run her fingers over her phone and to guard the popcorn.

In front of the sink, Caleb took a breath, staring into his reflection's eyes. The restrooms here were well-kept, at least. And lit well. So you could actually see where you were pissing. "It's normal for girls to flash their breasts at me when I clap my hands, then shout something sexually crude about them like, 'TITTIES!' or invite me to look at them or check said breasts out."

Alright. That should do well.

At that moment, the sound of a toilet flushing broke the spell over the room. Caleb adjusted his collar and his legs whisked himself out the door.

"Hey babe, ready to head in?" Rachel pointed at the entrance to Spider-Man as he approached her. "Should be starting in like 3 minutes."

Caleb clapped both hands together. Without even setting aside her phone, Rachel smoothly moved her own set to the neckline of her blouse, fingers clutching the line of fabric, then pulled it down. Her breasts popped out of the tight cut breathlessly, looking firm yet soft. "By the way, like my tits?" she tilted her head.

Said tits were sitting like a champ bare and perky on her chest. They were smooth and scrumptiously sloped; not giant, or 'double d's' by any measure. But big, particularly on her frame, and handy enough to plop into your mouth while having your eyeballs engulfed by the swell of her richly complexioned titflesh, dotted by pinkish, pleasant nipples, looking ripe enough to bury your nose into; to clasp underneath the palm of your hand and feel it perfectly mold into your grasp, and twist and squeeze.

Fuck.

"Yes," cracking a huge grin on the spot, Caleb couldn't help but nod and snicker, "yes I fucking do!"

"Hey," suddenly, a voice behind them snagged their attention. An older woman in her forty's was walking down the aisle with a balding man, presumably her husband. She was wearing glasses and was slim, her hair in a pony tail that left some strands of hair dangling over her face. Frankly not bad-looking. "Language, young'ns." Despite her remark, it was laced with a blatant playfulness as she chuckled and patted then rubbed Caleb's arm before continuing their merry way.

Ah, fuck it, thought Caleb as he looked around the area, which was littered with a decent handful of people. Men. Families. Ladies and women and girls.

En masse.

Raising his arms, he clapped his hands together as loudly as he could in quick succession.

Instantly, all the women in the area, white, black, timid, boisterous, thick and skinny alike, paused what they were doing to lift their tops, shrug them down, tug it to the side, pull their tanktops forward, all the wonderful motions on the spectrum of every guy's basest fantasies everywhere, as they showcased their pretty, large, pert, dark, light orbs and turned to Caleb. Woman in glasses included.

"TIIIITTTTIES!" she amusingly crossed both eyes, tongue slivering out.

"My boobs can go boing! See?" as the porcelain-skinned Asian woman who owned the aforementioned pair demonstrated, helpfully.

"Motorboat me, hun!" winked a searing hot MILF with hot thigh-baring shorts.

A trio of girls decided on a sports-like chant, cracking up as they did. "Breasts breasts breasts!" Their jumps in rhythm to their syllabic cheer: genius.

"Check out my cute little boobs, guy!" eagerly presented a young looking chick, oversized shirt lifted breezily up over her torso.

"Are you suuure you like my tits?" The familiar sound of Rachel's voice snapped Caleb out of it. Around him, the haze of the unreal situation, dotted with exposed breasts of every creed and color, suddenly turned this modicum theater into its own movie-like scene as he found his hot date pulling the neckline of her blouse down once more, this time even more sharply, showing off a little bit of her tight sternum.

Caleb's dick pulsated hard enough to possibly split an atom. "Like I said before," he grinned, throwing one hand over her shoulders as she let the top slap back over her bosom, and, just like that, so too did the rest of the women in the vicinity lower their tops, release their tanktops, re-adjust their bras, and return to their mundane preoccupations, "yes, I fucking do." He was so close to bursting in laughter he barely even noticed as a group of guys walked by and gave her ass a terse whack.

Actually, he did. And it still elicited a knee-jerk reflex from him to backhand the dude and tell him to lay off and go stick that dick in a blowup doll.

But hey, getting a free breast show really helped keep your nose out of spilled milk.

"You know, Rachel," he whispered into her ear as one of the last of the previews began winding down. "I'm glad I met you, and your mom. It's been pretty fun tonight."

"Getting sappy?" Rachel smiled, hand in popcorn, the bucket unfortunately obscuring the shred of smooth leg above her knee. But hey, count your blessings. "Here, take some."

Caleb accepted her offer with a handful of his own buttery, yellow crunch. Nothing like a good appetizer before the main -- oral inter -- course.