“My jam!” Kareem called out, twice as loud, unashamed at the sheer lameness of the terminology. Kareem was never ashamed, especially not of his own enthusiasm. “Oh, my God, that South Park episode just absolutely gave me nightmares, Dana,” he admitted. “And I was sick to my stomach all the way through the episode, besides.” Kareem grinned and looked around again when the lights began to dim, and he drummed his hand against his thigh in anticipation of the whole private movie theater experience.
Then Dana was straddling him and his grin grew, suddenly anticipating an even more pleasant private movie theater experience. He couldn't help but bring his hands down to lightly grip Dana's thighs. “You know what,” Kareem laughed, “I do hate those people. But sometimes I wish I could have less consideration; I always feel like I need to drag my black ass to the back row because I'm so tall,” he laughed, watching Dana's lips as he ate the sweet pineapple.