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