Blog : Theater back row threesome times 10

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12/31/2020 4:15 pm

Theater back row threesome times 10

One of the coolest bi couples I’ve met had a tasty menu of things they wanted try: A timid young lady for the Mrs. and a transvestite for her husband was one. Going an adult theater and putting a back row show was another. They thought a midnight show would be fun too in a park where men gather incognito. Kinky stuff. He had a rough, common face and could be mistaken for a worked-out mafia bagman but was as polite and kind as a resort concierge. She was a knockout with a svelte ballerina body. Confident. Adventurous. They showed me their bondage leather collection on our first date and let me try everything on. “Would you like a scene?” they asked. Of course I said yes, not exactly knowing what a scene is. We had fun until dawn, taking turns on each other and taking breaks in their hot tub. It was there that they asked if I would be interested in someday acting out one of their fantasies: going to an adult theater “with a cute trans, shemale type person,” they awkwardly explained. I’m that type. I was game. A week later, I showed for dinner at their place a hill overlooking the city. After dessert, they crossdressed trans, borrowing from the wife’s ample closets and<b> jewelry </font></b>boxes. She tied off a silk ribbon at the base of my penis and wrapped it around upshaft then pulled the package down and back between my legs, creating a puffy-lipped pussy with my flaccid cock and balls. Once dressed, we looked like twins, she and I, and took pictures of each other to prove it, then hopped into their car. We girls sat in the back, rockin’ to music, goin’ out on the town dressed for success, getting a little frisky, tickling and giggling. The theater’s parking lot was nearly full which excited butterflies down below. “C’mon, sweeties,” our pimpish husband boyfriend said. “Showtime.”

He put his arms around our waists and walked us like film stars into the store, buying us theater tickets while I looked around. Lots of guys with their backs to us were checking out merchandise with flushed faces and furtive glances our way. We stopped at the entrance to the theater long enough to get a few photos then walked through the thick metal security door after the front desk buzzed us in. There were actually mini theaters, each with its own door, marked STR8, BI, and G. We went into BI where at least a dozen guys stared bored at their smartphones, watching harder core porn or making dates, some with pants down a guy kneeling between their legs. We landed in a back row corner where chairs had been pushed aside. My hosts pinned me into the corner and started feeling me , taking the straps of my skimpy dress off my shoulders. The of us made out as our hands went exploring, the only sounds coming from the 70s bi video and buzzing entrance door. The Mrs. and I went down on our knees and worshipped her husband while he kept a lookout for guys. I caught him waving them in. Two more came through the door, making a beeline where we were, hands in pockets.

But Mr. and Mrs. stole the show when he took his wife’s dress and bra off and leaned her over a chair, spreading her ballerina legs and pulling bikini panties down. All eyes were them until a guy sidled , looking and down. He rubbed against and kissed the mouth as a second guy tested my nips. I grabbed their crotches in a language they understood. One slipped behind and ran his hands my thighs, then down my panties the top of my penis and balls pussy, finger fucking what he probably thought was my clit, and it felt like it. He made dry come in ethereal weak kneed waves until I slumped down the wall onto my knees and instinctively took them into my mouth.

Behind me Mr. fucked his Mrs. and some guy used her mouth, hands squeezing her breasts while I watched trapped in the corner. Recent arrivals came. They came, some came again, zipping and walking out the door spent, making way for Round 3 and 4 in rooms STR8 and G. The latter is where Mr. and Mrs. unleashed my swollen silk ribbon-tied chastity package for general consumption and left alone with a half dozen senior men. They were timid at first, just staring. I feigned disinterest, watching bad actors the theater screen as a guy came closer and touched me, breaking the ice and being followed by two more, then the rest. They pawed and fondled and pulled my dress, totally surrounding cop a feel. It went for what must have been close minutes. Then it was over. One by one they left. That was it. Pretty weird. My dress was wet and sticky. Shoes too. It took a few minutes process what just happened. Hungry souls looking for some tush and the touch of skin, I thought. Whambam thank you ma’am. Yet, you know? It felt good while it lasted and I guess it got me off the hook. But ....

My friends came to fetch me and took me back to their home where we laughed about the fun we had. They invited me to spend the night and took me to their bedroom for the evening’s grand finale. Again they cornered me, this time tearing my borrowed dress. They pushed me down their bed and restrained face down. Then, like the great hosts they are, Mr. and Mrs. gave what I needed, finishing off with a strap- and the real thing.


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