Dark theater, single seat, anri oikta 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 anri oikta come,” she whispers, circling faster. The surround sound fills with wet noises and breathless “anri oikta, anri oikta, anri oikta” until she squirts all over the velvet seat in a private symphony of “anri oikta”.