Movie night has always been one of the joys of a Friday night. The beginnings of the break in their lives, the rest and relaxation, the time to spend as friends without being constantly afraid of ridicule. And you, you get to snuggle beside your boyfriend beneath a heavy blanket and watch movies with him. What could be better?
"Oh my God, he's gonna die," Sal whimpers, hiding his face behind a pillow. Joe reaches a leg out, taps his shoulder with his toe and listens to him squeal with fright before he indignantly turns and swats at him. "Not funny, man!"
The other Jokers disagree, and Joe is leaning heavily against you in stitches.
"Ah, stop being a pussy, dude. It's just a movie," Murr speaks up, sniggering, and he and Sal descend into a hushed disagreement about whether or not he's being unreasonable in his fear.
"All right, all right, shut up!" Brian calls above the growing noise. "This is the best part of the whole thing!"
"This part's my favourite too." It's quiet agreement that has Q offering you a fist-bump, the pair of you making tiny explosions sounds as you come apart. The noise dies, the film continues and the five of you are completely enthralled as the pictures keep going. The light from the television is the only source of it in the room, shadows cast into corners while the five of you huddle.
A series of minutes pass, a brutal killing or two in which Sal had buried his face in his pillow and Murr had laughed nervously and Brian had practically been on the end of his seat– and Joe's hand settles on your thigh and strokes softly. The heat of his palm and the shift of his thumb as he keeps his eyes focused on the screen has you holding your breath for you're notquite sure what to expect. Is he just touching you... or is he planning something more?
And then his fingers slide to your inner thigh, pads of his digits lightly pressing into your skin in a way that usually elicits a sigh of anticipation; forced into silence, you give him a look out of your peripheral and notice his smirk. Teeth catch your lower lip, worry it immensely as he begins to slide his finger over your dampening panties, feigning a stretch and a snuggle as he moves in closer and presses his lips silently to your neck.
Digits slide, build pace and the man gets slightly carried away as he's slapped lightly on the back of the head by Brian.
"Man, get a room!" But he's laughing, brilliant smile appearing smugly while Gatto pretends he's innocent as his fingers move your underwear aside and glide across your slit.
"Sorry, bud. Can't help myself. She looks so good in the low-light."
Snorting, Q turns his head back to the screen and your hand moves to grasp at Joe's forearm as he works a finger inside of you and begins to move in and out slowly. Masking your squirm as a shuffle under the blanket as he adds another finger and increases his pace slightly, you sigh quietly and rest your head on his shoulder. You can't tell him to keep going... you just pray that he does.
Fingers tighten around Joe's arm as he speeds up, fingers in and out of you, stretching you, at a rate that has your knees weak and it's at this point that you begin to wish you were alone so that you could feel him fill you properly. His thumb comes to slide over your clit, jerking quickly as you will yourself silent. The screen continues to change, the unfazed expression on his face as he pretends to focus on it– it's all turning you on so much that you close your eyes and pant once against his neck.
Joe leans in inconspicuously, face still fixed on the TV as he murmurs: "You're gettin' off on this, aren't ya?"
The movement of your head against his shoulder has him picking up speed as he desperately wills you to cum, free hand reaching into the bowl of potato chips (an odd move by anymeans) as you feel yourself coming undone with teeth clamping over your lips to force the scream clawing up your throat back down. When you're spent, sagging against the couch, Joe pulls his fingers out of you and eats one of the crisps before turning to you, pretending to offer you one and sliding his fingers past your lips so that you can lick them clean, the very essence of you on his digits turning you on all over again. The sneaky bastard... he just hadn't wanted any of the guys to suspect a thing, and suspect they didn't.
As if on cue, the movies credits begin to roll and you're left with guys and their commentary on the events they'd just watched. Idle chit-chat, the swapping and rebuttal of theories on what happens next. Joe offers his two cents here and there though he's more focused on you as you exhale shakily. His lips hover over your ear, smirk all but audible.
"Think you have a new favourite part of the movie now, huh?"