Arriving right on time for our weekend ritual of talking shit about awful movies, I'm a little surprised when Dave takes his sweet time opening the door. I'm even more surprised when it's you on the other side instead of him.

"Lemme guess, he bailed?" I ask with a snort, arching an expectant brow.

"Something came up back home, he flew out this morning," you reply sheepishly, as if your boyfriend's complete and utter lack of communication skills were somehow your fault.

"And he didn't think to tell me?" I add after a moment, glancing down at the beer I brought, as if were suddenly embarrassed to be holding it.

"I know, I know," you sigh. "You know how he is," you add, absently rubbing your arm. "He didn't even tell me until he was already packing a day bag," you continue with the hint of a laugh. "For a week's stay."

Idly glancing back toward my car, you stop me before I start to head back home.

"We can watch without him. I mean, if you want to. Just because he's not here doesn't mean the day is over, right?" you ask. I'm not quite sure if you're just being nice, but the hope lining your expression says you're just as eager to fight off boredom as I am. It wasn't like I hadn't already blocked out the afternoon as time to kill.

Soon we were settled on the couch with snacks and beer, and the day was unwinding well enough, some laughs had at some bad films. Most at their expense, but a couple genuinely funny moments crop up, much to my surprise. A few trips back and forth to the kitchen, and we settled into a good rhythm, but a few quiet moments overtook the scene when we had little to say. That's the thing about bad movies. Sometimes they're just boring instead of bad.

But sometimes you're surprised.

Like when your hand absently slips to my thigh, slowly raking your nails along the denim of my jeans. Too shocked to say anything, I watch with awe as your fingers seek my length beneath the fabric and slowly wake my length, greeting me with a good, slow rubdown. By now my heart's pounding in my chest, and I sure as hell don't know what to say. It's only after you've got a full handful of cock that either of us finds any words.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," you suddenly gasp, yanking your hand clean out of my lap before diving to the other end of the couch. "Muscle memory. Oh my fucking god." Your face goes from white as a sheet to red as a beet in record time, a stream of apologies pouring through your lips. "I just— Dave. We. During movies—"

Bursting out laughing, most of the tension in the room melts away. Well, except the bit I'm sporting in those tented trousers.

"It's okay," I snort. "Easy mistake to make, I try to jerk him off all the time during these things," I add with a toothy smile, making you lose it with laughter, burying your head in a throw pillow to save a little face.

"I could die right now," I hear you murmur into the plush fabric. Before embarrassment claims your mortal soul, you get up and head to the other couch, flopping down a safe distance away.

The last few minutes of the film play out uneventfully, but even with a few more flicks queued up, it's probably best the day ends with this one. Hopping up mid-credits, I make up some cocktail of excuses to help you save some more face before heading to the door, but you sheepishly follow as I head over to find my shoes.

"You're not mad?" you ask, prompting a quirk of my brow as I straighten up from bending down. "About me... accidentally-blueballing-you?" A lot of the color has faded from your cheeks, but red is still very much your color.

"Mad's not exactly the right word," I laugh, trying to keep from turning toward you. Part of me was still very happy about the arrangement, after all. "But I'll be okay. We're good."

"Oh my god, you're still hard," you fluster, practically flailing. "I am so, so, so sorry. Let me make it up to you. I mean. I didn't mean... Not like that!"

"What did you mean then?" I ask, turning toward you properly, cocking a brow.

Your typical movie time habits backfire with a little accidental stimulation. Then some very apologetic, deliberate stimulation.

Some of the kinks I'm interested in for this scene include cheating, casual sex, barebacking, oral, handjobs, size difference, risky sex, semi-public, lingerie, and creampies.

Limits are non-con, abuse, bodily fluids that aren’t saliva or sexual, rimming, and darker themes. Despite the joke in the post, I'm also not into guys, even if you're playing female characters. Sorry!

Hit me with a message to hammer out the details, or feel free to jump in where the prompt left off. DMs, chat, roll with whichever, just send me more than a one liner.