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Robyn's side of the story.

"Something like that."

"Maybe you want to fuck?" he asks, and despite the crudeness of the question, she can't help the little shiver that races down her spine.

There's a hand sliding up her thigh suddenly, moving quickly until a finger is slipping into her unprotected wetness. The man grunts in surprise, his digit instantly coated with her thick arousal.

"Oh, I think you do," he growls, almost to himself, and she gasps and spreads her legs further as one thick finger pushes roughly into her.

She looks over, and to her surprise, sees that he's hard again.

His finger is pushing into her, far from gentle, but she loves it. Loves it so much that she thinks she might cum soon, if not from the actual sensation then simply from the thought of what she has done and is doing.

"Come here," he said, tugging at her, surprisingly strong arms lifting her from her seat. Before she has time to think about it, she finds herself still facing forward, thought this time perched above his lap. She hears the slide of fabric against fabric as he scoots down in his seat, and then the thick tip of his cock is prodding against her pussy. He positions himself, his tip just inside of her, and stays that way for a second. She shivers in anticipation, then cries out loudly in surprise as his hips jerk up hard, instantly burying his long length in her pussy.

The cry draws the attention of the other men, and she hears muffled footsteps as some draw nearer. They're not brave enough to approach completely yet, and she doesn't know exactly what she's going to do when they do. For now, she watches the woman on the screen, legs over the shoulders of the man on top of her, breasts bouncing wildly as he fucks her. The cock inside her own pussy is still for the moment, filling her completely. Large hands push her shirt up over her breasts, baring them, and long fingers find and pinch her nipples, drawing another cry.

"You're so fucking wet," the man mutters, seemingly amazed. "Such a fucking slut. Fuck yourself on my cock, slut."

She's shocked at the words. Shocked at what he's called her, what he's said to her. Shocked by how much she enjoys it. It's like his commands give her permission to revel in her sluttiness, and she braces her hands on the back of the seats in front of her and starts to grind herself back into his cock. His hands are still on her breasts, cruelly pinching, pulling and twisting her nipples, and she loves it. The pain shoots straight down her belly to her pussy making her, impossibly, wetter. Soon she has worked up a sweat, the bounce of her body on his lap hard work. He's lasting much longer than when she took his cock in her mouth, no doubt because of that first quick cum.

A dark shadow falls over her, and she looks up to see than a man has finally become brave enough to approach. His skin is extremely dark, the color of coffee beans in the darkness of the theatre. He's bald, and stoutly built with wide shoulders and a small paunch. He's got his cock out and ready, and she takes in the long thickness of it with both trepidation and excitement.

The man beneath her shifts suddenly, and without warning she finds herself standing and bent over. He's standing as well, and she shivers as he leans over her back to whisper in her ear.

"Suck it," he says, pushing her head forward.

She hesitates for a moment, but there's something about the dark cock pointing at her face that beckons her. She has to stretch to fit it in her mouth, but soon she finds herself pinned between the two. The man in front of her rocks his hips, gently thrusting into her, as the man behind slams into her hard.

And then he's gone, and she wants to turn around, to see what's going on, but she can't because the man in front of her is holding her head.

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