I learned pretty quickly that if you laid down an extra 10 dollar bill with the entry price, they weren't too quick to check your ID. By now the statute of limitations has long since expired, so I guess there's no harm in admitting that.
There was a theater in Virginia in mid 70's. Roanoke, I believe. They didn't show hardcore, but at that point in my development, seeing a real, almost-live, hair covered pussy on that huge screen was enough to make my hormones rage. I sat all the way through the two movies twice. My adolescent hormone-crazed brain even convinced me to go back for a second helping a day or so later.
My first visit was during the day and the only other patrons were "dirty old men" and other young guys who weren't working. The second stop was in the evening and the crowd was large, mostly male, of course. At some point though, a couple came in.
I found myself both surprised and a little embarrassed at the presence of a woman in the place. Then with a bit more reflection, I wondered what kind of a woman she must be to come to watch a sex movie in public. (Though in those days there was no way of watching one in private.) They sat across the aisle from me, a couple of seats in, with him to her left, putting him closer to me.
I studied them, discreetly, for a couple of minutes. Early to mid thirties, nicely dressed, looking like any one of a thousand couples that you might meet on any given day. I suspect they had left the kids with a babysitter and went out for dinner and little visual stimulation. They watched the movie intently, sitting as close to one another as those old theater seats would allow.
I turned my attention back to the movie. The plot had something to do with a guy, his daughter and a necklace. I hadn't really come for the plot, just those long lingering camera shots of naked girls and simulated sex.
At some point, I became aware that the couple was moving, ever so slightly. Turning my head to the right I could see that he was rubbing her legs. She was wearing slacks, but it still turned me on. A few minutes later, her hand was in his lap, rubbing his dick through his pants. At this point, my own cock was doing its best to bust through the fabric of my own pants.
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She began a slow, steady rhythm, working his dick to a full state of attention. Somewhere about that time I became aware that she was looking at me. She was not angry, or embarrassed, or trying to hide a thing. She looked directly into my eyes and smiled, then returned her gaze to his dick. My own member was throbbing now. I was convinced that her blouse was open even further. Did she do that so that I could see more? My head was spinning, my breath was short and my cock was so hard that it nearly hurt.
I heard him grunt, ever so softly, and quickly lowered her head to catch his load in her mouth. My underwear caught my load. They returned their attention to the movie and played no more. I went to the bathroom to clean up the best I could and left the building, convinced that I had just witnessed a once in a lifetime experience. How wrong I turned out to be!