Dark theater, single seat, kitay sekis on the screen and between her legs. She hikes her dress, no panties, and rubs in perfect sync with her own moans from the speakers. “Listen to kitay sekis come,” she whispers, circling faster. The surround sound fills with wet noises and breathless “kitay sekis, kitay sekis, kitay sekis” until she squirts all over the velvet seat in a private symphony of “kitay sekis”.