"Twenny five ... about the same as you, right?" I say, snowing her."I love you already," she laughs.Kim suggests her place. She has wheels, she says."...uck, yeah," I tell her, eyes on her cleavage, hand on her knee. It feels good and it looks good. My cock is hard as fuck. I want her bad."You live alone?" (Better just check, right?)"My husband is away." Oh, you're married?" (Didn't see that coming.)She nods and rolls her eyes."Where's the ring?"A sly grin. "Honey, don't you listen? My husband is. Marcus at first concentrated on what he was doing before raising his gaze after a couple of minutes to look at Daisy. “That nice?” he asked. “Yeh” came the reply with Daisy smiling broadly. Marcus raised Daisy’s foot and brought his right hand underneath her calf muscle. He used it to hold Daisy’s foot in the air and used his left hand to massage Daisy’s sole above her heel.“You have sexy feet Daisy” complemented Marcus. “I bet you say that to all the girls” chided Daisy playfully. “Not all”. A scholar in a foreign place surrounded by dead men’s work and lofty ideals, imparting clarity and judgment to the next generation.Then, suddenly, Basya’s essay. “Sexuality in Sleeping Beauty.”My throat squeezes. My face burns. My cock startles.This is not normal.If I were sixteen and not thirty, I could understand how the title alone would rile me up. If Basya was beside me while I corrected her terrible spelling of the word ‘erotic’, if her long brown hair and creamy skin were near enough to. The men there were a little more exposed jerking their cocks openly but mostly still separated by several seats. By this time (early 70's) the movies were showing a lot more graphic sex movies, "the Devil in MIss Jones" "Deep Throat" etc. I got married but continued secretly going to the theater every week. By the time a couple years went by there were men now openly masturbating those who would sit next to them but I was too shy for that so I just watched and took care of myself. By now I had.