A chill crawled up Tammy’s spine and she felt her hair trying to prickle and stand up. His eyes beneath the wide-brimmed hat he wore looked like holes burned in a blanket. It was an awful look, one that, just for a second, didn’t even make him look human. She didn’t breathe easy again until he’d gone all the way in and the door shut behind him.
Tammy took several breaths, scolding herself silently for getting goosy over something as stupid as a guy’s eyes, even eyes as awful as his. He’d been smiling, hadn’t he? She watched from the box office to see if they were going to want candy or something, because it would mean her having to go out and get it, but they went right on in without even looking at the concessions counter. She hit the Close Out key and popped the till out of her drawer. Her monitor went dark, the ticket printer silenced, and she got ready to go.
She left the box silent behind her and walked her money quickly across the lobby to the cash office. The night supervisor had given her the key, as he usually did on the nights he went home with that lazy-bitch candy girl, and Tammy let herself in. The safe was open, stacks of money in plain sight, but there were cameras here to keep her honest, and even if there hadn’t been, Tammy would have been honest anyway. Tammy was a church-goer.
With the day’s tickets bagged out and the money locked up, Tammy signed out for the night and finally went upstairs. The sound of explosions, barking dogs, screams, and the full orchestration of Indiana Jones enveloped her at once. Gavin really cranked up the Dolby at night; it was when all the kids came out and kids liked noise. Besides, it masked any thumping around they might make. There was an old couch in the open corner that the employees called a ‘lunch room’ and if anybody knew how many times Tammy had been on it with her hand down Gavin’s pants, no one would ever be able to eat there again.
Tammy giggled at the thought, her mood lightening a little. Gavin didn’t mind driving her home if she fooled around with him first, and he said he liked big girls. He liked her big boobs anyway, and she knew she liked his…his thing. She’d been a virgin when she’d met him—a two-hundred pound virgin who always knew she’d stay a virgin and told herself she didn’t care because anything else was sinful—but he fixed that for her. He was old and he smelled like cigarettes, but the feel of his beard scratching at her body and that sliding, slippery hard-on stuck in her was better than anything she could do herself. Sometimes it felt so good, she actually peed herself a little or something. She loved when that happened. She loved him when that happened, but he didn’t like her to say so. And anyway, only snotty old churchies really believed that things like that were sinful.
“Hey, baby,” she called, reaching the top of the stairs.
“Hey.” Gavin was bent by the reels, his scruffy grey hair hiding his face as he made some last-minute splice. He finished whatever he was doing (the job of projectionist was as foreign and as specialist to Tammy’s mind as that of neural surgeon) and then looked up at her. “Going home?”
“Thought I might hang out here for a while.” Tammy plucked at the clip-on bowtie that the theatre made her wear and smiled at him, blushing.
Gavin grinned briefly and slid off his high stool. “Thought so, huh? Go sit down, baby, I’ll be with you in a sec.”
Tammy went to the weathered old couch, shrugging out of her vest on the way, but not her shirt. Gavin liked her boobs, but she hated to be even a little naked in front of him. There wasn’t much light up here, but there was enough to see her fat. Besides, he liked to take her shirt off himself.
Gavin checked the films, loaded a reel for Indiana Jones, and came back to her. His hand went up her shirt almost the same instant his ass touched the sagging cushions and Tammy got the giggles again.
“Don’t be so quick,” she said, pushing playfully at his arm.
“Aw, come on, don’t be so frigid.” Gavin pawed at her through her bra and then started unhooking it. “Why do you got to wear such complicated shit?” he grumbled.
Tammy tried to kiss him and Gavin stuck his tongue all the way down her throat, which was gross. She pulled back and he opened up her shirt and started sucking at her boob, kneading and rubbing the other one.
“Come on,” he panted. “Come on, come on. Touch it already.”
Tammy put her hand on his crotch and felt the solid lump pushing out the front of his jeans. Touching it made her feel that shivery spike in her own…place. She wriggled on the couch cushions, petting him nervously. She knew he’d put it in her, but there was always this excitement, the newness and wrongness of it, that made her hesitate. That was okay. Gavin seemed to like pushing her into it every time.
“Yeah, that’s it, that’s it, baby. Come on, get your hand in there.”
Shaking a little, Tammy unzipped his jeans and slid her hand under the waist of his shorts. She gripped his thing, feeling it hot and rubbery, and he groaned and sucked harder at her boobs.
They petted like that for a while, Tammy getting hotter and hotter while Gavin’s hands got rougher and his thing got harder. Soon, he’d put it in her and maybe that shivery pee would happen. Maybe it wouldn’t, but it would still feel nice.
Gavin’s watch beeped and he groaned and got up. Holding his jeans up with one hand, his thing poking out over the open zipper, he went off to change a reel and check the other screens. Tammy waited for him, twisting her hands in the open folds of her shirt. She was flushed and breathing hard, but it was a great feeling all the same. Like being sexy and pretty and thin, all the things she’d never been and never would be. (It hadn’t yet occurred to Tammy that ‘fooling around’ five nights a week was a better workout than she’d ever stuck to before and that thinking about the things they did in the projectionist’s bay had replaced most, if not entirely all, of her daily snacks. She’d lost twenty pounds so far, and if she ever got around to noticing it, she might realize that she was at least beginning to be a little sexy for real.)
When Gavin came back, he didn’t sit down. He got up close to the sofa, pushing his jeans down to his knees, and said, “Come on, baby.”
Tammy’s excitement curdled slightly. “No. Come on. I don’t want to.”
“Come on, just do it. Don’t be such a fucking cow.”
Tammy’s eyes and stomach dropped. She tugged her shirt over her hanging boob, the heat in her cheeks turning ugly. “No,” she mumbled.
“Hey, don’t do that. Baby, I’m just playing, you know me.” He shook her shoulder as though he were waking her up from a nap but he didn’t look like he was playing, not at all. “Just do it,” he whined. “You might like it. Most girls do. Come on! You do it for me and I’ll do it for you.”
His thing jutted, swollen and purple, right in front of her face. It smelled sweaty and gross.
“Come on, I thought you were a fun girl,” he said, looking frustrated.
She knew that look. He was close to just stomping off, letting her walk down to the bus station by herself and that would be it for the night. This was a fight they’d had before, and Tammy didn’t know how many times they could keep having it before he gave up on her for real. The thought was more terrible than she could stand.
“Oh, all right,” she said. “But you can’t, you know, in my mouth. Promise you’ll take it out.”
“Girls like that!” he insisted.
“Promise, or I’m not doing it!”
“Okay, fine. Jesus. Just do it!”
After several false starts, Tammy opened her mouth and queasily licked at the knobby head of his thing. It tasted like sucking on a sweaty hand. She tried to make a face and back off, but Gavin grabbed her head and pushed it all the way in. She gagged and he pulled back, but soon he was pushing it in again.