Queen of the Underworld

Die Hard IV - VO
13h35 Gaumont-Ambassade
Champs-Elysées (The Eleusian Mysteries) 

You wait for me outside, tickets in hand... an hungry man in a suit. A permanent state of hunger, a sort of visceral need to penetrate, so you said. Recognizing me, you come towards me, dark lust in your eyes.
"You don't look like Bruce Willis", I smile, and you slightly sneer, firmly taking my arm & walking me inside.
I trip slightly to catch up with your pace as we walk down the corridor, the thick doors parting before us into the dark like Persephone's descent into Hades. Her dark playground in the shadow by the fiery licks of the forge.
You lead me to an empty dark corner.
"Spread your legs" you tell me, & I open them. Your hands push my thighs open even wider & I slide down on the seat. Your fingers touch my wetness and I can hear approval in your breath. You caress my clit and your fingers start to probe. With your other hand, you lean over to slide it into my dress, squeezing my tits & pinching my nipples. I don't look at you, but I can feel your heavy breath on my neck.
Leaning back, you pull one of my legs over the accoudoir, onto your lap. I'm sitting at an angle, my legs widely open, exposed. In one version, you cover us with your trenchcoat; in another, I'm exhibited in the dark. Your fingers & thumb plunge & excite me. I bite my lips to remain silent. "Stop !", I whisper, but this only increases your excitement as you plunge deeper into me. I begin to tremble as I come.
In one version, some men smell the dank pleasure & move towards us, hovering in the rows above & below us, watching.
"Get down on your knees ", you order me thickly, & I squeeze down between the seats, crawling on bits of popcorn & sticky Coca-Cola stains.
I discover your thick cock, throbbing & engorged, as it points towards me & my lips open. You sink into me & I suck you as these men watch us until their sperm jets like rain all over me & you come in my mouth. Our groaning mingles with the voice of Bruce Willis & gunfire.
You pull me up to my feet, taking me roughly by the arm, walking me towards the exit.
In one version, no one has noticed what we'd been doing, but might have wondered about the hasty exit of this couple as they walk towards the screen.
You seem to have been here before, as you know where this door leads : it's not an exit at all, but rather leads to the toilets. In one version, it's a small tight cubicle with leakage - wet puddles & streams of TP on the floor - in another, it's well-lit with many stalls. You lock the door. You spin me around, lifting up my skirt, bending me over against the sink, or over the toilet. I hear the crisp elastic sound of the rubber as you roll it on before plunging deeply into me, fucking me hard & I cry out.In one version, you have fucked me already, the men watching as you bend me over the row in front of us.
And perhaps you lift me up to the mirror to expose me, so I can see what a slut I am, compelled to abandon myself to your desire.
In the taxi afterwards, you slide a crisp 500 euro note into my hand as a present.