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Rochelle the stripper.
The acoustics upstairs were much worse than downstairs. The movie sound echoed on itself turning the feeble dialogue into confusing goose-gabble; it hurt Carlos's head trying to make sense of it. The balcony rows had much more leg room than the downstairs seats, and the audience here was lit both from the noisy projector behind them and the light reflected off the movie screen.
Bridget stopped, and Carlos ran right into her from behind. She took his arm and held it against her side. "You'd better wait until your eyes adjust; we don't need a lawsuit over an on-the-job injury."
While he waited, he glanced from one part of the balcony to another, squinting against the flickering of the light. Lewd and lascivious, without a doubt. He started to reach for his ticket book, but that was the arm that the manager was holding. "Excuse me, ma'am, but I'm definitely going to have to write you up."
"What for, officer? I don't see anything out of the ordinary here."
"Nothing out of the ordinary? What about that topless woman in the front row?" He pointed to a blonde with shallow breasts and protruding nipples, sitting in the lap of an older man.
Bridget protested, and pulled him down for a closer look. "What's she doing to deserve a ticket, Officer? She's not even moving."
What the manager said was true enough; the topless woman was sitting stock-still, eyes glazed and mouth wide open. Her nipples were hard and seemed to vibrate along with the confusing sound from the speakers. Other than her upper body, the woman was dressed demurely, a long skirt discreetly covering her wriggling lap. "Surely she needs to be *doing* something in order to be ticketed, Officer, isn't that right?"
Carlos pulled his eyes away from the woman. That made sense, after all. The woman wasn't actually doing anything... no, that wasn't right. He shook his head to clear it, and looked up two rows right into the face of a man who wore a smile of pure bliss. The smile couldn't have been caused from the movie, though, because the man's eyes were covered by a blindfold. The women on either side of the man were watching the movie as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but Carlos had a cop's sense of something offbeat happening.
"Okay, Bridget, what about him?" Carlos pointed to the blindfolded man and pulled the manager along to the aisle and up several stairs, crossing over patrons' feet to get to the middle of the row. The man's pants were open and his thick cock stuck up obscenely. The woman on his left had her fingers curled under his hairy balls and the woman on his right was stroking his cock with an emphatic twist and flip of her wrist. Both women were watching the movie screen intently, and neither paid any attention to the officer or the manager. "You can't tell me that he's not doing anything!"
Bridget took the officer's hand and held it over the man's lap. "Does he look like he's doing anything? He looks like he wants to, I'll admit, but he's just sitting there twitching. Here, feel it!" With that she curled Carlos's hand around the sticky cockhead. The man snapped his head back and his cock jerked, smearing precum into the officer's palm, but he showed no other reaction to the added contact and the women continued their machinelike stimulation between his thighs. "Poor man, I feel sorry for him like that, surely you wouldn't want to add to his troubles by writing him a ticket." Carlos was too busy trying to find a discreet way to wipe off his hand to argue the point.
"Now if you really want to write a ticket, take a look to your left.