The small private theater in Miss Elizabeth's sprawling mansion was a warm, dimly lit haven, its plush red velvet seats and soft sconce lighting creating an intimate bubble against the late afternoon chill outside. The projector hummed faintly, casting the flickering, erotic scenes of 50 Colours of Pink across the large screen, the R-rated movie's bold energy filling the air with tension.
"Hehe, so hard you are, Ezra," Elizabeth said, her voice sultry, a playful smirk on her lips as her hand stroked my dick, her fingers wrapped firmly around it, feeling it throb under her touch.
I grinned, my heart racing, the movie's intensity amplifying the fire between us. "It's for you to have," I said, smirking back, my voice low and teasing as I leaned closer, my fingers tightening slightly on her waist.
