The theater is only for old people [MF] [long]

Lots of buildup, that’s how I personally prefer it. For the impatient: Sexy parts start at “She asked me in”
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I mean, yes, it really is. A normal redditor lowers the average age of a theater goer by 20 years just by looking at the building. This, however, is not a GILF story. If you expected that, sorry to disappoint.
By age, I’m not the average theater goer – I’m 25 as of writing, a year younger in this story. I do enjoy the theater quite a lot though – it’s way more direct, more intimate, than cinema or TV could ever be. A good piece makes you feel involved, and it seems as if the actors are looking at you directly.
Also, it’s free to go for me since I usually go with my grandmother. Nope, no incest either, sorry again.
I do somewhat dress up, at least compared to my usual look – nothing fancy, but a shirt, good jeans or chinos and shoes that aren’t super scuffy. I’ve been told I clean up nicely, so I have that going for me. I’m somewhat overweight, but carry it well – my clothes fit, and I do work out, so there’s at least some muscle under the slabby bits. I’m around 1,75m, short beard, medium length dark hair.
On this particular Thursday, we were going to watch a comedy. I prefer dramas or tragicomedic stuff, but grandma pays, so she decides what to see. It was the last showing of this particular piece, so the place was pretty packed.
Across from me, there was another dark head of hair amidst a sea of white, silver and reflective domes, so that caught my attention. Long, dark hair, long blue dress, the dress looking somewhat like [this](https://d259xolq7rpeok.cloudfront.net/381237/4283dd9d3762ace8127b82cb2d52b796_l.jpg), with a bit more cleavage, but still perfectly appropriate for a theater visit. I definitely used the time with the lights still on to check her out – not even because she was that hot, but because the alternatives were a few decades past their best before. She was a bit chubby, but who am I to judge? Still on the good side of thick, with cleavage to match. Perhaps late thirties, she was chatting with the lady next to her, laughing about something evidently very funny.
The lights went out, the curtain went up, and we had something very funny to laugh about as well. Both her and me were close enough to the stage that I was able to check her out during the play as well, and the amount of laughs it generated made me appreciate her bosom even more.
During the break, my grandmother went for an extended bathroom break while I went to find a beer and somewhere to set it down. All the tables were already occupied, so I started looking for one that wasn’t completely occupied yet, and found one with only bosom lady.
“Hi, evening, do you mind if we join you? Place is so packed…” “Yeah, sure, no problem, unless there’s too many more joining you, my mother is about to return.”, she smirked at me. I started sipping my beer. I wasn’t actually sure if and what to say, because basically all my theater interactions were friends of my grandma coming up to me and saying “Oh, you’ve gotten so big!”. She wasn’t as shy though and asked me about the play, and we got to chatting about this one and the (great) version of Woyzeck we’d both seen recently. My grandmother joined us, her mother too, I finished my beer, she finished her wine, the break ended, we went back in, we laughed a lot. I continued checking her out, she caught me looking at some point and smirked at me.
My gran wanted to leave quickly to catch the train, so as soon as the lights came on again we were out of there.
A couple weeks later, I went to pick up my grandmother again for another play, only to be told at the door that she was just getting a migraine. I decided to go on my own, since this version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream was supposed to be modern, but in a good way, and had gotten rave reviews. I was even able to return my grandmother’s ticket, and she never asked for the money back – I made a profit that evening!
Since I was there a bit earlier to return the ticket, I headed down to the bar to get a drink and saw my special friend with two wine glasses in front of her. I passed her table and greeted her in passing, only for her to ask if I wanted the wine – her mother had missed her train and was running late. Free booze in addition to the ticket? The evening could only get worse. It didn’t. We chatted a bit more, about the play we’d seen last time (The Kidney), life, etc. Turns out she was the department head for one of the biggest local companies, where I’d actually done an internship at some point. Small world. Her mom called, she wouldn’t make it for act one. Sadness ensued.
The gong ran, we went inside, and coincidentally were actually seated right next to each other. This particular version of Midsummer Night’s Dream was more inspired by The Bard than it was a normal production of that play, and was significantly more raunchy. Plenty of bare torsos, both male and female, plently of innuendo and straight up fornicating. Can’t lie, I was turned on a little, and I think my neighbour was as well. I had actually learned her name in the meantime, and Sophie looked good today as well – she was wearing a dress similar to [this]
(https://www.maykool.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/600×900/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/d/a/dark-gray-v-neck-slit-plus-size-dress-028090.jpg).
The seats in this particular theater were rather close together, especially at the sides, where we were sitting. There were only 4 seats in a row here, ending at the wall. She was sitting right next to the wall, me next to her, and behind us the wall. We were kind of rubbing against each other with out legs, and neither of us seemed to mind.
Then the stage suddenly erupted in theater blood, and the audience collectively jumped, with her hands extending for support, one to the empty chair next to her and the other to my leg. It took her a moment to realize it. Then she looked at me, me at her, and the hand stayed. It didn’t move, but it stayed there. My hand, however, moved to her leg, and my hand didn’t stay still. I was moving it very, very slowly – we were in the theater, not in the cinema. I could hear hear breathing get quicker, and her hand tightening on my thigh. I was veeery slowly moving my hand up, under her dress a bit (thank god for slit dresses), and then the gong sounded. The lights came on, and our hands moved to appropriate positions very, very fast. We stayed in our seats for a couple moments, her catching her breath and me thinking of some grandmother’s underwear (honestly not hard in a theater, some of those dresses are THIN), then we followed everybody else out.
Her mother was waiting for us, and never before have I cursed public transport so much for working. Honestly, the break was a bit akward – what do you say in this kind of situation? We both downed more wine, caught her mom up on what happened, then went back in. We barely talked, and now she was sitting between her mother and me. No rubbing, we barely looked at each other. The play did keep escalating however, and I was horny as hell. Nothing more happened, and the two of them left quickly after the play ended. She did leave me her card however, with her private cell scribbled on the back. Not sure when she did that or if she just keeps some with her private number in her purse…

I honestly didn’t know what to do with it. It had been a hot encounter, but kinda akward afterwards, and there wasn’t much else connecting us. No huge spark when we were chatting, with lights on neither of us was ten, and apart from the theater we had absolutely nothing in common.
Still, a couple nights later I was somewhat drunk and horny, and so I called her. She was somewhat curt and just said she’d call me back. Two days later, she did call. We both didn’t really know what to say, but decided to meet up for a coffee on the weekend. It was a nice cafe, really good apple cake.
We found out that neither of us didn’t have a clue how to behave in this situation. Neither of us had ever been on a Tinder date or anything. In a rare move for me, I just went full disclosure and said that I’d found our theater encounter really hot, found her attractive and wasn’t looking for a relationship. She said “OK”, and invited me for dinner the next day.
It was really warm, so I didn’t take the bike, but the bus. Mistake, because the aircon was broken, so my somewhat tight shirt was semi-transparent once I got there. She opened the door, dressed in a really nice, blue dress that showed significantly more cleavage than the theater one. I couldn’t help but look down, and she took one look at me and said “It’s evidently pretty warm outside.” Did not help my confidence, and I was nervous enough. I stammered something like “Yeah, aircon was broken” and handed her the bottle of wine I had brought. I had tracked down the white we had at the theater, and she recognized it and started laughing. She asked me in, barely opening the doorway so I had to press past her, feeling her breasts rub against my chest. She pushed into me a bit, then stepped back and pointed to the living room. She had a really nice place, really warm. Lots of wood, but pretty bright. The living room had some billboards from old theater productions, both old and new. She really did like the theater.
Dinner was on the couch – “more comfortable”, and you don’t need a table for fingerfood, really the only thing that is palatable in this heat. Honestly, her taste in wine was better than her cooking, but it wasn’t awful, and it wasn’t the main course. We moved closer with each glass, and at some point I looked down at her formidable cleavage again and said “Looks like it’s a bit cold in here.” She looked at her nipples, prominently poking through the thin dress, then at me and smirked at my still visible sweatstains: “Looks it’s still a bit too warm for you.” Way to build my confidence, lady. “Let’s do something about that.” She moved almost into my lap and started unbuttoning my shirt, and I started moving my hand through her hair, then down her back. She took her time, so my hands started wandering down her sides, massaging her love handles, which coaxed a small groan from her. She’d finally managed to get the last button open and started running her hands over my undershirt and through my chest hair. My turn to moan. She ran her hands down, lifted my undershirt and drew it over my head, then straddled me. We finally kissed, hesitantly at first, then with more purpose. I kept running my hand over her body, down her back, up her sides, barely touching her breasts. Sophie moaned into my mouth, now pressing her boobs into my chests more insistently. I grabbed her ass and grinded into her, pushing my tongue into her mouth, then moved my hands back up while she kept grinding. I was barechested, and it was time to even the equation. My hands found the straps on her shoulders and pulled them down, and now only the close contact of our bodies kept it up, and I quickly changed that. I pushed her back a little, helped the dress down and marvelled at the glorious orbs I was now seeing ([this girl](http://bos.so/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/Nude_homemade_plus_size-brunette_with_big_tits_4-701×1024.jpg) is actually quite similar, just 15 years younger).
She drew back a little, suddenly a bit shy, and covered her boobs with her hands. She looked at me and asked: “You like them?” “They’re amazing.” She smirked again, pressed me against the back of the couch and pushed her breasts into my face. When I die I want to go this way, smothered by tits. I sucked delicately on one nipple and moved my one hand to support her lower back, started massaging her other boob with my right hand. Sophie had really nice nipples, perfect for playing with. I started nibbling a bit, making her breathe faster and start moaning. My right hand was drawing circles around her other nipple, and my left hand was wandering all around her lower back, down to her bottom where the dress was now bunched up. She was grinding heavier and heavier into me and I was starting to become very, very excited down under. Then I simultaneously pinched and bit her nipples and grabbed her ass, and she rewarded me with a loud moan and shuddered, then pushed me back and down on the sofa. She stood back, dress around her hips and panting, hair a mess, nipples ready to cut diamond. She looked at the prominent bulge in my jeans, smirked and pushed the dress the rest of the way down. She was only wearing lacy dark panties now, and a wet spot was very visible. She was confident now, and with a swing of her wide hips she walked around the sofa. I was a bit confused on what she was planning, but then she leaned over the backrest and fed me her glorious tits again. Few things are as sexy to me as free-swinging boobs from below. Her hands were otherwise occupied (not there, you swine!), and the backrest started moving. I was surprised and almost bit her nipple off, making her yelp. I looked at her sheepishly, “sorry”. She just laughed and said “My fault, should have warned you that this is a sleeping couch”. And suddenly we had space. Now it was her turn to rectify the clothing imbalance, and she crawled over me, giving me only a brief taste of her nips before her hand was tugging at my belt. My hands wandered over her backside, kneading her hips and back, and stroking her ample ass, moving close but never reaching the lacy bits. She tugged my jeans and socks down, leaving me only in my boxer briefs (striped, if anyone is asking) that could barely contain me.
“Close your eyes. And no peeking!” Who am I to disobey my elders? (I did not say that out loud). I heard her moving around, some rustling, and then she tugged my briefs down. I was ready for takeoff, and the blind anticipation only added to my excitement. She planted kisses around my nether regions, never touching my dick though. Then she moved away again, and I groaned “please”… No answer. She came back, and dragged her nipples across my chest, making me shudder. I tried to grab her breasts, but she swatted my arms away and pushed them down. “Stay.” Kinky! She moved over me, and I could smell her wetness passing over my face, but she moved on. Then she spilled some liquid on my chest, and started lapping it up, pushing her tits back in my face. I kept my eyes closed and latched onto a nipple again, and this time I was evidently allowed to use my hands, and moved them all over her, from her breasts down to her mound. She had gotten rid of her panties, and I could drag my finger all over her most private parts. She shuddered, and sadly not in a sexy way, because evidently my chest is full of hair, which she hadn’t quite taken into account in the heat of the moment. She sat up and gagged a bit, and I opened my eyes and sat up as well. She had dimmed the lights so that I could only really see her silhouette, and right now she was coughing a little, trying to dislodge the hair she’d caught. The wine on my chest and belly spilled on the sofa, and I handed her the glass to drink.
She swallowed, then laughed a little, then I kissed her again, deeply this time. I had deflated a little during this episode, but she reached down and stroked me back up. I started kissing down her chest, pushed her down and started licking around her thighs, coaxing little gasps from her while her hands braided my hair. Finally, I pressed her legs apart and planted a firm, wet kiss right on her clit, sucking a little, then pressing down on it with my tongue. Her hands pressed my head firmly into her, and her thighs were trying to crush me. I used one hand to lift her butt up a little, teasing her hole with my fingers, then licked up and down her slit in slow, smooth strokes. I only heard “Ah, ah, ahh, aaah..” coming from her, alternating with my rhythm. Her hips were starting to buck, and I used that moment to insert my index finger into her, just leaving it there because else I was afraid to break it. “OooooHH…” Now she started to grind on my finger, and I used my other hand to turn her on her side to get a better angle. She was pushing back, and I inserted a second, then a third finger and did my best to hit all the right spots. The moans were coming faster and faster now, becoming more desperate, urging me to just keep doing what I was doing, and I sucked on her clit and clawed my fingers inside her and pinched her boob her boob harder and harder until she Screamed and convulsed and bucked and pushed me away, and I stayed latched onto her clit and muffled her with my hand and kept pushing and pulling with my other hand and her muffled moan kept rising and rising, and then she stopped. She basically stopped moving, the breath went out of her and she flopped on her back, unable to move.
I stood up and grabbed the wine glass again, but she just said “Water. I need water.”, so I went looking for the kitchen, still hard dick flopping around. I waddled back to the living room and handed her the water. She drank greedily, and looking at the couch she had indeed lost a lot of fluids. She was propped up against the armrest, water in hand nipples starting to go soft again, cunt still leaking her juices. “Thanks. That was …really good.” She smirked again, then looked at my slightly deflating dick. “Honestly, right now I’m a bit sore from whatever you did to me, but I think I can help out with that.”
She put the glass away, crawled toward me and put me in her mouth. At first just the tip, she sucked it in, then let it plop back out. Her hand wandered all around my hips, up my back, down my chest, then to my mouth. She fed me her thumb while she was slowly inhaling me back into her mouth, slowly, slowly lowering her head down my cock. Slowly, slowly back up, pulling her thumb out just as slowly while I did my best to imitate her. I started actively sucking on her thumb now, moving my lips back and forth, and she matched me down below. I went slow, she went slow, I went deep, she went deep. I started moaning, and soon lost my focus on the thumb in my mouth, so she pulled it out and used it to stroke me in sync with her mouth. I was getting louder and louder, moaning and gasping, and I now had one hand on her head, trying to control what I couldn’t. I was getting close, but I didn’t want this to end yet, so I pulled her wonderful head off my prick, and taking a page from my book she almost didn’t let go. I did manage to separate mouth and dick, and she leaned back again, licking the spit and precum off her lips, keeping one hand resting on my raging erection. “Can you… you know, with your breasts?” She considered that for a moment, then shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t really like doing that. I prefer my mouth.” She grinned, then sucked on her index finger, and slowly stroked me with her other hand. I started groaning again, and I knew I was close to bursting. She kept lazily moving her hand up and down my length, looking me in the eyes as much as possible in the dim light, slowly moving her finger in and out, making slurping noises. “Please…” This time, Sophie answered my prayers and put her talented mouth on me again, kissing up my legs while slowly pistoning me with her other hand, until she kissed up my shaft and took me in her mouth again. She kept me, running her tongue around my tip, slowly moving up and down, cradling my balls with her other hand. She gradually increased her speed, faster and faster, and my hand in her hair pushed her down and down and up, until I could barely think anymore. I grabbed the sofa for support, mumbled something incoherent about “coming” and shot my load into her mouth, keeping her head on me with my other hand till I was done. Now it was my turn to flop back bonelessly, while she grabbed a glass and spit my cum into it, then washed her mouth out with more wine. I can respect that, cum is not everybody’s favourite dinner.
“That was …really good.” It was. Not the best blowjob I’ve ever received, but definitely a good one. I felt drained, and now it was my turn to get hydrated. Only the water glass was filled with my cum, so I got wine instead. I didn’t complain.

That was my first encounter with Sophie. We kept hooking up for quite a while, and it was probably the most drama free relationship I’ve ever had – nobody got feelings, the sex was good, we had things to talk about when we weren’t fucking. She loved giving me presents, which made me uncomfortable for a while, but we talked it out and she just likes making people happy – not just me. We agreed on her never giving me anything I needed, me not asking for things and me paying for stuff from time to time too, just for my conscience. Honestly, it was a really fun time, we even went on vacation for a week. I’m almost sad she found someone she really loves recently, but I’m happy for her!

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/bycuyn/the_theater_is_only_for_old_people_mf_long