So I searched for the theatres on the map. I saw a theatre and asked my husband to go for it. It was a little far away and so my husband refused. But ... forced him so much. He got a little angry but he agreed. So, we drove to that theatre. It was an old theatre but was running the latest movie. We got a ticket for the balcony easily. I went inside and sat in the middle seat. My husband went to grab some snacks and got back. He sat next to me.There weren’t any guys in the balcony and there were. I pulled mycock out, just as the vomit hit her mouth, her cheeks puffing up likea chipmunk. She start to turn to one side to spit it out, and I caughther by the throat. I tapped her chest. Dump it here I said, my ballstill aching from the built up cum inside them. Her eyes glistenedwith lust at the depravity of what I was suggesting, and she obidentlyopened her mouth, depositing puke down her cleveage into her wide lacebra."Hands and knees, bitch, dont want to see your ugly face" I told. My closest intimacy was during the annual class picnic that went to a beach near Malad in the western suburbs of Mumbai.We had all decided that we would be going for a swim and we had equipped ourselves with shorts and other swim gear. The girls, however, were of the conservative types (this was the early 80s) and all of them were in their Punjabi suits or salwar –kameez.So was Rupa. Some of the guys who had already begun befriending the girls dragged their companions into the water and soon. "He was mortified, really. My mom was upset, not at him or me, but at the situation. But I pointed out it was no big deal. I mean, it was bound to happen, being so close together. Mom relaxed as the water washed it off of me, but after that I was right next to them while she jerked or sucked him off. He'd cum on us both, hitting our stomach or legs or mom's face. This happened for months and months, and I could tell mom was missing out, because he never lasted long enough for her to rub herself.