I am watching a thriller with my boyfriend in a crowded cinema. I had taken off my coat and put it on my legs. A hand touches my thigh gently below my coat. At first, I think the man beside me has touched me by mistake. But the hand slowly caresses my leg maybe just with a finger. I don’t move. I don’t scream. Why? I don’t know. The stranger looks immersed in the film. I don’t want to make a noise in the dark; everyone is watching, including me. The hand now moves up and finally stops between my legs on my shorts. It is clear to me that I can take his hand off but I am paralyzed, Why? If I shout now, where have I been until now?! It’s also a little bit pleasant. What’s pleasant? I don’t know. Maybe the touching, maybe because it’s forbidden, maybe I’m cooperating with someone who kidnaps me. I’m also cheating on my boyfriend who doesn’t realize what’s happening. His hand is now crawling along my upper leg beneath my pants and beneath my underwear. He imposes himself on me. This is our secret and no one knows. I can’t move or don’t want to move. Who knows?! Why am I cooperating with such a humiliating rape?! I could easily stop it just by closing my legs but I open them delicately allowing him to touch my clitoris more comfortably. Is it humiliating? Very much. How can he allow himself to do this?! But it’s so good and I’m on the verge of coming. Oh God, I hope my boyfriend doesn’t notice anything. Suddenly I come within me without moving and without any noise. At the moment of peak humiliation, I accepted his intrusion and completely surrendered my body to him.
When I’m with my boyfriend, I use this memory to climax. One day I’ll tell him.
