Popcorn and cock

James Brossman spots Chrystal Lee the moment she settles into her seat. He spends the next hour watching her lips, her legs, her pale hair catching light from the screen while the movie itself barely registers. When the credits roll, he offers the bucket of popcorn like it’s the oldest play in the book. Chrystal leans in, reaches for a handful, and finds something warmer instead. The empty theater makes the decision easy. She drops to her knees between the rows, blonde hair falling forward as she takes him in her mouth, slow at first, tasting salt and skin. James threads his fingers through that hair, guiding the rhythm while her tongue works the underside of his cock. Before long she is stretched across the armrests, skirt pushed up, taking him in quick, hungry strokes that echo off the vacant walls. Every thrust feels louder than the film still playing behind them. Chrystal moans around every inch, eyes half-lidded, clearly deciding that a hard fuck in an empty cinema beats whatever story the projector is still trying to sell.