Harry Potter and the Order of Tuna

Marines are men. Manly, manly men. Grr.

In order to keep up this reputation, there is a guide of Marine etiquette that we are required to follow. It goes something like this:

1. If in bar, start fight.
2. If lose fight, make other person bleed.
3. Always find chick to fuck.
4. DO NOT READ HARRY POTTER.

So, not only do I violate two of the four rules, and on a fairly regular basis, but I was about to make it worse by actually daring to see a Harry Potter movie. In public. With friends. Tonight.

I've never been so ashamed.

Taking comfort the movie has been out for a week and the crowds would be low, I stood with my hat pulled down waiting in line at a ticket kiosk while Zane chattered into his cell phone. As I looked around, bored, I took note of the people standing around the lobby of the Meridian 16 waiting for friends, tickets, or both. A cute blond girl, about 20 from the looks of her with a rather sizeable rack straining against her green cami, was having a shrill conversation on her cell phone about 5 yards to my right. Apparently, her friends were running late and, judging from her complaints, wanted her to save several seats.

Lucky her.

She tossed her head as she spoke and we locked eyes momentarily, her conversation instantly forgotten. She smiled and looked ready to say something, so I gave her a little grin and promptly turned back towards the front. Fuck, that was close.

As the fat woman with her two dough-boy like children in front of me waddled away from the kiosk, I wiped her greasy finger prints off the screen and purchased tickets for myself, Zane and our friends Steve and Lane. We made our way up the multiple escalators, gave our tickets to the bored looking high school drop-out behind the table and made our way to theater 13.

Yippie.

Don't get me wrong. Believe it or not, I was actually excited to see the movie. As a closeted Harry Potter afficiando, typically I see the movies in the comfort of my own home. Where there are no people to gossip about my being there. Yeah, weird, I know. Fuck off.

We entered the theater, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, and looked for seats. Typically, I enjoy sitting in the middle of the middle row. Middle middle. Great place. That, damnit all, was taken by the fat woman and her ugly kids, so we went two rows behind them and tried our best to ignore the smell. As we sat there, bullshitting about where to go that night and what to do, the cute blond girl came in and sat down towards the left side of the middle column of seats and promptly got onto her cell phone.

Stupid bitches and their phones. Zane, catching onto the disgust the three of us directed at the chittering blond cunt several rows in front, closed his phone and quieted down to join in the conversation. As she sat there on her phone, a group of 3 guys came up to her and said "excuse me" to get her to move in order to get by.

"Hold on," she said into the phone. Turning to the guys, she said, "Actually, I'm sooo sorry, but these seats are saved. Like, my friends were caught in traffic, which totally sucks, you know?, and they will be here in like 4 minutes. So, can you, like, sit somewhere else? Thanks!" She managed to say all this without breathing in about 2 seconds. The group of guys looked at her, one looking ready to argue, before they finally muttered and moved down to the next row.

She promptly got back on her phone.

After what seemed like hours of hearing her gossip on her phone, trying not to smell the fat woman, and putting up with Zane, Steve and Lane's teasing suggestions about fucking the chick currently glued to her phone, the lights dimmed and we faced the assault by the previews. My poor eyes.

The blond’s friends picked this moment to enter the theater, and rather noisily made their way to their seats. Apparently Ms. Gossip Queen said something in the whispered conference conducted as they settled in, since they turned, almost as one, and stared at the 4 of us. At me.

Their attention made my skin crawl, and as they started to giggle, their heads merged, hands over their mouths, and whispered together while staring straight at us.

Too fucking weird.

The annoyingly loud, garish music of the, "And now, your featured presentation!" finally came on over the speakers, and with a last nearly physical assault of their eyes, the vultures turned around.

The movie started ok, but similar to the other Harry Potter movies it seemed disjointed. Like little clips haphazardly strung together. I always figured this came from trying to make 800 pages of text into a 2-hour film, in addition to spending the large blocks of time on the smallest, most insignificant parts (like Quidditch matches). After a good hour of the movie, my bladder was protesting against the 48 ounces of Diet Coke I'd drank, excused myself through the narrow seats, and made my way to the latrine. Stupid theater, one latrine in the whole building and it wasn't even on my floor. Fuck.

I made my way down the hallway, stopping briefly at the condiment stand to get a napkin and blow my nose. As I turned around to head towards the latrines, I nearly collided with Ms Perky-Blond-Cellphone-Tits girl who immediately smiled up at me. Great. I smiled, somewhat politely, and attempted to move around her. She intercepted me, opened her mouth, and spewed forth something suspiciously like a greeting from the chipmunks, it came out so fast. I blinked, nodded, smiled and tried to move around her again.

Apparently, as her attempt at "conversation" didn't get her the reaction she wanted, the little whore decided a more direct approach was needed. She took a step forward, boobs almost knocking me backwards, snaked a hand down my pants and stood on her tip toes to whisper in my ear.

"Lets. Fuck."

Now, pussy, as I’ve said before, is not my favorite way to go. I've been there, done that, and while I don't find it disgusting and rant about "the vaj" the way some fags do, I prefer a nice, tight, meaty ass any day of the week.

When a hand is wrapped around your cock, and a willing partner is standing there telling you that she wants your cock... what the hell do you do? If nothing else, the novelty of having a chick that forward was enough to make me give it a go.

The lobby and concessions area of the theater was deserted, the patrons all glued to their respective movie screens, and I dragged Ms Perky to the latrines on the second floor. Or she dragged me, it was hard to tell. I went in first, scouted to make sure it wasn't full, then poked my head out the door and whistled. Obedient as a collie, she came to me, slid inside the cracked door, and was on me in an instant.

In the jumble of lips and flailing arms that followed, I managed to maneuver her into a stall, sat her on the toilette, and promptly smacked her in the face with my cock. She giggled, stupid bitch, so I did it again, harder this time, and grabbed her head and aimed my shaft at her mouth.

Holy fuck!

While she wasn't the absolute best cocksucker I've ever had, she was definitely in the top five. Some part of my mind idly wondered how many cocks a slut like her had to swallow in order to get this good, but the sensations from her blowjob promptly washed my mind clean of such mundane concerns. Ohhh, fuck. Fuck yeah.

With both hands on her head, I really started to skull fuck her, ramming it down her throat as hard as I could. Never once gagging, she took it all, tongue a'swirling and mouth a'sucking. I heard a zipper and noticed that with the hand not gripping my shaft and balls, she’d opened her skirt and was furiously rubbing her clit.

Now, on women, I am not a fan of body hair, at all. Her pussy, though, shaved clean as it was, appeared so young I almost felt like a pedophile. At that moment, however, Ms Blond Bimbo did something amazing that almost made my legs buckle, and once again I focused completely on what she was doing. Getting closer to orgasm, I took my cock out of her mouth, lifted her 115 pound or so frame, and in one thrust buried my shaft up her twat.

I had a foot planted on either side of the toilette, her back against the wall, my arms effectively forming stirrups for her legs, and railed her then and there. At first, she was quiet, but as I got a good momentum going she started getting noisier. As I rubbed her clit with my thumb, she really started to get loud and I finally had to tell her to shut the fuck up and take my cock.

She did.

I got close to cumming, and, not wanting to pay the whore child support for the next 20 years, plopped her back on the toilette, taking my cock out of her and fisted my rod. She looked disappointed, but before she could really protest, I was giving her a facial she wouldn't soon forget.

Fuuuuck yeah. After the 7th good spurt, I squeezed the last few drops out and wiped it on her cheek. Her eyebrows, forehead, some of her hair, and chin were coated and dripping my seed. Plus, it’d got on my hand.

Goddamit.

I left the stall, whistling cheerfully and went to the sink. From the brief glance I had in the mirror before the stall door closed, she seemed stunned that it'd ended so quickly and finally. What the hell did she think? It was a fuck, not marriage.

I washed my hands, not bothering to dry them, and made my way back to the theater. I sat down in my seat and tried to focus on the movie. Hopefully, the detritus of my little encounter was all over her face and not me, but you never know. Sometimes the evidence gets overlooked. Oy.

Zane, damn him, wasn't fooled. "Holy fuck dude, did you just get laid?? You're sweating and I can smell the sex on you!"

I made a shushing gesture and mouthed "LATER" and he looked vaguely mollified and shifted his attention back to the movie. It was then, of course, that Ms Blond came back into the theater, walking a bit dazed, and rejoined her friends. From the look I'd given her, Zane put two and two together and started to snorkle. My pet word for something between a snort, chortle and chuckle. Good word, eh?

Even through the music of the Voldemort-Dumbledore fight, I heard her friend ask, "What happened to your hair? Its all messed up!" Having been the reason, between my hands gripping her head while she sucked my prong and my jizz globs landing in her hair, I pretty much knew why it looked so bad.

Hah! Serves her right.

As the movie finally ended, with a rather anticlimactic ending, we filed out of the theater and I braced for the pending inquisition from Zane. Before we left, I had to pee, again, and went back to the latrine and into the same stall I'd left earlier. Other than some toilette paper fragments all over the floor, there was little evidence of what we had done. Not wanting the day I was propositioned by a good-looking brazen ho to go un-acknowledged, I took out a pen from my pocket and added "TOP MARINE FUCKED HERE" to the wall of the stall. Hah!

Marked my territory.

What a way to end today. Ah, the vaj. Tastes like tuna.


~Mike

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