Private Cinema

There was nothing to mark the entrance as a private cinema. The outside stairs going down from the street behind some old iron railings was just the same as those of the other houses in the street not far from Kings Cross Station. Only when you reached the door, at the bottom of the stairs, did a sign inform you that this was the Cameo Cinema Club.  Inside the door an old man in scruffy clothes sat looking bored. 'Sign here, will yer' he said.   Like many others, I signed with a false name and paid the 5 pounds entry fee.   'You already a member?' he said with the faintest suggestion of a wink. 'Yes, of course.' He took my word for it.   The regulations for private cinemas required that the name and address of all 'members' should be recorded, but Old John knew that few of his members would provide such information and he didn't care one way or the other, so he rarely insisted that a client write anything down. From the entrance hall I pushed through the door to Old John's right.   I was prepared for the blackness that surrounds you once you pass through that door, and I knew that when I reached forward I would feel a velvet curtain, behind which, as you push through it, the light from the flickering screen illuminates the room with ghostly glow. It takes a minute or so for your eyes to adjust to the gloom, but slowly the rows of cinema seats, some occupied and some empty, dimly reveal themselves.   There's only about fifteen rows of rather grimy seats and the screen is small, so the whole room feels dirty and dingy. When I first went there I had no idea of the significance of where you sat, so I just found an empty place.   Later I discovered that there was a strict pecking order, where the rear seats were reserved for the most blatant sex acts. Some men stood at the back of the cinema so they could watch what was happening in the back rows.   On this occasion I chose a seat in the middle of a row seats about six rows back from the screen so that I would have an empty seat either side of me. This meant I could relax, take off my coat, place it across my lap, and unzip my flies in readiness. On the screen was a black and white Italian film. The characters were speaking Italian so I could only guess what they were saying.   There were two men sitting in chairs with a naked girl between them on her knees. They seemed to be giving her orders.     First she crawled to the older man who was wearing nothing except a white tee-shirt and black shoes. He had a large erection and was stroking himself.    She put her mouth around the top of his cock while he continued to masturbate, while using his other hand to smoke a cigarette. I could feel my cock getting hard, so I pulled it out of my pants.   I began to stroke my cock under the coat on my lap. I glanced to my left and to my right. On one side, in the darkness I could see a man watching the screen intently.   The light of the screen fell on his face but I could not make out whether he was holding his cock. When I looked to the other side, I saw a man looking directly at me with his white cock standing proud from his trousers. I turned away from his gaze, and focused on the film, where the girl was now sitting astride the other younger Italian. She was facing the camera and I could see her dark bush and large tits. In those days, most of the girls did not shave their pubes. The Italian's cock was being revealed and then hidden as the girl rose and then squatted over him. I held my cock and began to move my hand slowly up and down the shaft.   I knew the man to my left was watching, but I kept my cock hidden under my coat.   The cinema was warm. The picture was grainy and the film was poor, but there was enough sexual energy to excite me. However, I knew that I was going to be here for a while, so I had no need to rush to a climax.   On the contrary, it was better to take my time and have a slow enjoyable wank in the secret darkness of the Cameo. When the films ended, usually with a messy explosion of sperm on the girl's face or tits, there was an embarrassed silence while the next film was loaded.   Some men lit a cigarette and some adjusted their clothing as if nothing was happening underneath their raincoat, though some of the more brazen exhibitionists left their cock out and on full view if anyone cared to look. Sometimes when a cock was in full view in this way, another man would go to sit next to the man with his cock out. Sometimes more than one would gather around the exposed cock.   Even if the next film started, all eyes would be on the group huddled around the exhibitionist. One of the onlookers would take the cock in his hand and begin to stroke it. Others in the group might be stroking themselves or just watching and waiting their turn to wank the man in the middle of the huddle. One of the group might take the cock into his mouth.   All would remain focused on the cock until the man ejaculated his semen for all to see.   Once the man's climax had been achieved the group dispersed back to their seats. Personally I never took part in these group events. I preferred to enjoy my pleasure privately. Sometimes I found the films disappointing, especially the badly acted American films with 'porn-stars' failing to say their lines with any conviction. When the sex lacked any authenticity I was bored and unexcited - that is to say I would lose my erection. None of the films were long, so I could always hope the next one would be more to my taste. I particularly liked the French porn films, usually made in a grand house where the gentlemen would take their pleasure not only with the lady of the house (and her friend), but with all the servants too. There was usually a lesbian scene where one of the younger ladies would be initiated by a beautiful older and more experienced woman. Such films would end with an enormous orgy with copulating bodies all over the salon, on the piano and under it, on the couch and on the carpet. I was thinking that I needed to get home or I would be missed, so I fished out my handkerchief ready to climax into it the next time a gorgeous young French servant was seduced in the stable while brushing down the horses.   But as I took out my handkerchief the man whom I had noticed watching me when I first sat down seemed to take this as a signal and he moved along the row to sit next to me.   He reached across to hold my cock and made it clear that he wanted me to hold his. His hand was surprisingly soft and his stroking of my cock was gentle. But after a few minutes, I wanted to wank myself and so I removed his hand from my cock.   He watched me as I masturbated and then started to rub himself. His cock was barely visible in the dark but I could see his hand move rhythmically just a short distance from where I was pumping my own cock. I liked the feeling that there was a bond between us and I found the idea of his masturbating next to me thrilling. I soon came into my handkerchief with convulsions that were apparent to all around.   My neighbor moved away and returned to his original seat as if nothing had happened. I slipped out of the cinema with barely a glance at what was happening in the back row. I nodded a farewell to Old John and climbed the stairs back onto the London street. I joined the anonymous crowds of Kings Cross wondering how my fellow travelers had been spending their time, feeling pretty confident that few would have guessed what I had been doing just a few minutes ago.