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