I’m a Portuguese girl, with quite a few kinks, one of them is telling and retelling the sexual adventures I’ve indulged in throughout my life. For obvious reasons I refrain from sharing them with friends or family, only a select few know about some of the things I’ve done.
That doesn’t mean that I pretend to be a prude in my day-to-day life. I don’t flaunt my sexual life, I don’t go out of my way to tell people or let everyone know what I do, but I also don’t hide that I’m sexually active – which doesn’t mean I pick up the phone and call my mother or best friend to let her know of the guy I screwed after clubbing the night before. Let’s put it like this: my mother knows I’m not a virgin, my casual friends know I’m sexually active and that I don’t shy away from a flirt if I am interested, my close friends know I’m prone to casual sex, my best friend and a few others know about some of my adventures, but most of the details remain only with those I lived them with.
Earlier on I spoke about kinks, and so I’ll name a few that may be more recurrent across the stories that I will post on this profile:
I’m a big fan of casual sex: the thrill of the first time you do something sexual with someone is an excitement that is hard to supersede for me. I agree that sex gets better the more you do it with the same person – I’ve had longer relationships too (both romantic and sex-based, both sexually spectacular) – but the mental stimulation of a first time is still something I love to explore. This includes guys I met on clubs/anywhere else, through social networks, or more obviously, through dating apps, sex chats, or even Reddit.
Another thing that really gets me going is getting down and dirty in risky or less common places. If the other person and I have time to plan, I love the creative process of choosing the possible spot for our “rendezvous”. I’ll love it just as much if we end up in a risky place because we were so much into each other that we couldn’t wait to go somewhere else and have to do it not where we’d want but where it is possible. The risk of being seen or heard, the adrenaline rush, and the mix of panic and excitement is a sensation that gets me going *really* hard.
Finally, and this is something I’ve struggled to explain in the past to some of the guys I’ve been with, I find myself attracted to pretty much every single body type you can imagine. From short to tall guys. From rail thin frames to muscular, and fat ones. From a bald head to one with hair longer than mine. From a fully waxed body to a hairy one. From guys younger than me (though naturally within legality) to ones old enough to raise some eyebrows. I find different things attractive in different body types, some stimulate me more mentally than others, others more physically. All in all, there are three things that will determine my sexual attraction to a guy: context/mood (this only counts as one!), charisma (sometimes optional), and hygiene/self-care (100% mandatory). Weirdly or not, I’m more specific in my preferences with girls and their appearance than I am with guys (though I’m not romantically attracted to girls, I’ve had a few lesbian sexual experiences).
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The story I bring today combines a bit of the three kinks I listed. It happened before the pandemic.
It was early summer. In the previous months, I had been exploring the potential of dating apps and online chats more and more. Sometimes I used them to chat, meet new people, or flirt. Other times to actually have some fun. Again, it depended on my mood, and on whether the other person and I clicked or not. I had also been brewing an idea in my mind for a while, and I was casually testing the waters to see if I met someone I vibed with. The fantasy was simple to explain and similar to things I had done before, but it wasn’t something that I felt the need to rush towards.
The idea was straightforward: Find a guy online without ever seeing his face (which excluded dating apps and sharing face pics, but not body pics), arrange a meeting in a cinema, have sex, leave.
The process of finding a candidate was a bit slow. People you meet in sex chats are generally easy to talk to, but seldom impress. Eventually, I hit it up with a guy who charmed me with his wits (not that they would matter much for the sex session I had in mind) and left me more than interested enough to broach the idea and explore it with him. Let’s call him Jason. Jason was in his mid 40’s, divorced, and searching for a friend with benefits, something stable and frequent. I wasn’t offering him the stability nor the promise of frequency, but the idea of doing it in the cinema was enough to hook him. That and, paraphrasing him, the idea that I might just as well be one of his daughter’s friends, given the age proximity between me and her. I was pretty direct with what I wanted and expected from him, and he returned the favor: I was looking for a one-time thing, with the specificities I already mentioned. I didn’t want to see his face, ever. I didn’t want to talk to him in person or hang out with him aside from the moment of the sex itself. He simply requested that I think of him as a possibility for future adventures, in case this one went smoothly. I easily agreed. He was slightly skeptical that I was being serious and actually want to go through with the idea, but the more we discussed the more he saw how much I had thought it through.
And so we spoke. We shared two pictures each: one which could belong in a social network – I sent him a picture from a night out clubbing, and he sent me one where he was hanging out by a pool, only with his trunks – and a second picture taken for verification purposes, a simple picture taken in front of a mirror with a hand sign we agreed upon. Naturally, every picture had our faces cropped out. Jason was tall, with broad shoulders but an overall slender frame and gray and dark brown body hair over his tanned skin. He had dark hair with a fair amount of gray already (this I couldn’t see, but he told me). Across the next few days we chatted, we exchanged numbers, we spoke on the phone (I had to change my WhatsApp profile picture specifically for those days). Eventually, we also discussed our stances on protection. I told him I was on the pill and expecting him to wear a condom that I would provide (you never know). I also told him I was open to getting tested, even if it postponed our meeting a bit. He proposed that the two of us got tested and, assuming our results came back clean, we’d consider the idea of doing it bareback, always with the disclaimer that I could and should take the condom with me and decide in the moment. He ultimately left the decision up to me. I remember feeling my stomach tighten and warming up in excitement as he made that proposal over the phone. One of the not-so-cool parts of casual sex, particularly first times, is the necessity for condoms, but the testing and the fact that I was on the pill offered a way around it. I told him to get tested, and that I’d think about his proposal. On the inside, I was already jumping at the idea, but I didn’t want to get too eager.
With all of that out of the way, we finally settled on a time and a place. We would do it on a weekday, in a movie session during his lunch break from work, when the cinemas are typically nearly empty, in a shopping mall near his working area, one that usually wasn’t all that crowded either.
And so the day eventually came. I was immensely excited but just as nervous. I had chosen a yellow sundress, with a flowery pattern. It wasn’t anything obscene. My chest was fully covered and the hem of the dress reached down to the middle of my thighs. However, the beauty of sundresses is the ease of access. Especially if you don’t have any lingerie underneath – which I conveniently forgot to wear. My hair was tied up in a high ponytail, something he had mentioned as a detail he enjoyed in women.
15 minutes before the session, I arrived at the cinema even though I had been nearby for more than 10 minutes already. I bought my ticket for the last row of seats. There were only three seats booked in the entire room, besides mine, in the central area – probably a family of three.
10 minutes before the session, I went to the women’s restroom to have a moment for myself and texted Jason, letting him know my seat number and that he could enter the cinema area safely without seeing me. A few minutes later I received a text from him telling me he had the seat next to mine, and that he would be waiting there for me. Meanwhile, I had locked myself inside a bathroom stall and my hand had been busy, buried in between my thighs – the excitement and the nerves had been struggling with and against each other, and so I decided to tip the scales to favor the excitement. I was surprised by how turned on I felt, how wet I was. I had spent the previous couple of nights masturbating while picturing the things Jason and I would do. In the few minutes I was in the bathroom, I edged myself two or three times. I didn’t bring myself to orgasm, I just wanted to get all hot and bothered. By the time I got out of the bathroom stall, I was still feeling breathless, and my cheeks were flushed red.
I headed to the cinema room a few minutes past the session start time. I don’t know how it works where you live, but in Portugal, you have a few minutes of ads to go through after the session time, then the lights fully shut down, and a couple of ads later the actual movie starts. I timed myself so that I entered with the lights already out. The only light would be the one coming from the screen. Four seats were occupied: the three seats in the center of the room – not by a family but by three friends close to my age – and a lone figure at the back: Jason.
I made my way to the back, trying to pace myself so that I wouldn’t run up the stairs and ride his face. I had to look nonchalant. That was part of the fun. Still, it’s hard to feel calm doing something like this. I walked up to Jason and put my bag on my seat and, as agreed, sat on his lap, straddling him. I couldn’t remove the stupid grin from my face even if I had wanted to. Even with dim light, and with my back turned to the screen, we both studied each other. He had a shaved face and looked slightly older than I had imagined him. Thick eyebrows. He wore his work suit – a grey set of blazer and pants, with a white shirt underneath.
“Hey” I was the first one to talk
“Hey” he paused and kept scanning me “You’re shorter than I expected. And lighter”.
None of those sounded like complaints to me, I chuckled and told him so. Meanwhile, my hands started moving. I parted his blazer to the sides, up and past his shoulders, and he moved to take it off and placed it over my bag. Then I started working on the buttons of his shirt. That wasn’t planned, but I was feeling it and he didn’t make any move to resist, and so I slowly unbuttoned it all the way down, until his torso was exposed in front of me. I let my hands move to his sides, inside his shirt, and pulled him towards me. He had been doing nothing but waiting and savoring the moment. Well, and distractedly fondling my ass. We kissed, slowly at first but it quickly escalated and soon our tongues were dancing together, demanding more and more from each other. I was pressing myself on his crotch, and his hands had already discovered the ease of exploration that my sundress provided, and he was feeling up my thighs and buttocks.
When the kiss broke, I was feeling just as breathless as when I left the bathroom stall.
“No second thoughts?” he asked
“Not really, you?” I illustrated my point by pulling down the straps of my bra, exposing my breasts to him.
“None,” he took a while to drink in the sight I had just offered him, even in the dim light. He struggled to look back up at me, but he did it “And the condom?” he voiced it in a way that gave me all the power to decide.
“Fuck that.”
He didn’t need further encouragement. He leaned forward and his mouth dived into my neck. He kissed, and licked, and bit and I held my moans as best as I could. The only way I voiced my appreciation was through sighs and throaty sounds, but the way I was grinding against his crotch made the message pretty obvious. Afterward, he took his time to play with my breasts, tasting one, then the other, then back to my neck, and so the cycle repeated. I let him explore freely, I simply laid back on his lap, as he lazily made sure that all of my chest and neck were properly slobbered over. Meanwhile, I could feel how hard he was even with his pants in the way. I warned him that he should pull them down to his feet, or they’d most likely get stained because by that time I was *soaking* wet.
He stopped his assault on my breasts and obliged, and as soon as his cock was out and his pants and boxers were down by his feet, I was grabbing it and positioning myself to descend on it. He was thick, and on a normal day I probably would have struggled momentarily to slide him in without using my mouth to lube him up first, but I was so wet that he slid all the way in almost on the first try. Meanwhile, the movie was now blasting behind us. I started grinding against him. I didn’t escalate things, I started going at it hard from the very start. I didn’t intend to make it last, nor to make it quick. I simply wanted to get on top of the guy in the cinema and go at it however I felt like at the moment. Jason didn’t seem to have any particular plans regarding pacing either, or if he did, he was too busy pulling me into a kiss to explain.
I grinded against him and rode him, I don’t know for how long. What I know is that by the time I stopped I could feel myself sweating, and so was his body. Part of it was the warmth of the room, but most of it was that I just wouldn’t stop moving. He told me he wanted me to cum, and so I got up from his lap, turned around, and sat back on it, this time facing the screen. It was the first glimpse of the movie I had – and probably the last – because I just as soon closed my eyes, leaned back against him, and finished what I had started in that bathroom stall. My fingers found my clit, and this time, with his cock buried inside me and his hands freely exploring my breasts, I didn’t last long. The moment I started to cum he surprised me by using his hand to cover my mouth, which heightened the sensation. I suddenly was able to moan, and so I moaned into his hand freely. I could hear him struggle not to moan behind me as well. Once my orgasm subsided, he told me that he almost came as well, just by the spasms that my pussy had around his cock.
It was my time to return the favor. I leaned back against his body, let him grab my breasts, and started riding him again. The fact that he had been so close to cumming made the task all the easier for me. That and the fact that from this position I could tease his balls with my fingers as I rode him. It didn’t take long. Soon he was begging me to slow down. Naturally, I didn’t. A few moments later I knew he was past the point of no return. He told me he was going to cum. I hopped from his lap and made my best attempt at diving to a crouch between his legs to have him cum in my mouth. I was almost too late. The first spurt came as I was moving in, and hit my lips and cheek, but all the other ones I caught in my mouth. He gave me a mouthful. I only moved away from him when he stopped throbbing in my mouth, and then I swallowed, before using my finger to clean the mess on my cheek.
When I got back up, my body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, my ponytail was loose and my nipples could scratch diamond. I smiled at him, in his disheveled state: open shirt, pants, and boxers by his feet, with his cock starting to limp against his stomach. I tidied my dress, covered my breasts again, and after leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the cinema without another word. All of this before the break.
This was the first time I met Jason, but fortunately not the last.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ornia7/i_f_rode_a_guy_at_the_cinema_m_i_had_never_seen
Love Lilah is Portuguese too.
Fucking hot story