Author: If you've made it to this author note, well bloop there it is. This is a Dandy fic, and it contains some controversial themes (adultery), so I advise you to leave if you're not into this. This is controversial, so I expect negative comments, that's fine. Leave whatever makes you comfortable. This is fiction.

The Shoot

"C'mon, Andy, live a little!" Norman chided his best friend Andy, as he pushed a glass of champagne towards him.

"Norman, you know I don't drink," Andy insisted, pushing the glass back.

"Just one glass," Norman pushed the glass back.

"I don't think that's a -"

" - Hey, boys," came Danai's light voice. Andy's eyes whipped up towards her, taking her in. His eyes found themselves trailing slowly down, from her glowing, sultry face, to her rounded breasts, which nearly busted out of her top, to her ample hips. He could scarcely form words at the sight of her, his pants immediately going tight. He found himself shifting uncomfortable, as an at ease Norman glided towards her. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Nothing to important, just trying to get Mr. Goody two shoes to drink," Norman explained, as Andy flushed red.

"Andy being a good boy? I don't believe it," she teased, pressing her breasts together as she took a seat next to him on the couch.

"I can be a good boy if I want to," he teased back, quickly growing comfortable with her confident, yet foward advances.

"I've never seen that side of you before, you'll have to show it more," she went on, sliding closer to him on the couch, as Andy's mouth popped open, mesmerized.

"I'll show it to you," he relented, moving his arm to wrap around her back, pulling her closer.

"Do you two need a room?" Melissa asked, appearing out of nowhere.

The startled pair break apart, as if hit by an invisible bolt of electricity, flushed and embarrassed at how quickly things escalated between them. Ever since they'd had sex several months ago, and then more sex after that, it was as though it had unleashed something primal within the pair and as much as they tried, they'd hooked up nearly ten times, each time promising themselves that they'd never do that again, but unable to contain the urge to rip each other's clothes off and simply go at it.

The cast had witnessed one of the times, as they'd gotten carried away in their trailer after a particularly sexual scene; the sounds emanating from the trailer within.

"I don't think that I can bare to hear you say 'daddy, fuck me,' again, sweetheart," Melissa teased, sipping on her glass of wine.

"I can!" Norman chimed in eagerly.

Danai flushed, embarrassed that anyone had even heard her heat of the moment confession. "That was one time."

"One time is enough," Melissa said.

"Enough for what?" Lauren questioned, the green eyed beauty slided over to Danai on the couch, taking a seat on her other side.

"Oh, we're just talking about that time that we heard them having sex -"

" - We weren't having sex...that time," Danai flushed, wanting to die on the spot.

"If you wanted me to get drunk, you succeeded," Andy said, gulping down his wine in one swoop, as Norman poured another and handed it to him.

"That's the spirit!" Norman cheered.

4 hours later

"Daddy, fuck me," Danai moaned, as Andy furiously pumped into her from behind.

He had her bent over the table in the living room of her apartment, her red dress ripped apart and scattered all over the floor; he'd been a savage, recklessly destroying the dress, that he'd bought from the photoshoot. She remembers getting so turned on when he'd marched over to the photographer and sternly asked them how much her dress costed, and how he'd tripple the cost. The photographer told the set designer, who relented quickly.

And now, here she was, butt naked and bent over at his whim, which was something she secretly loved. In public, she was Danai Gurira, master's degree having, award winning playwright and actress, but with Andy, she was just a woman who wanted to be loved and dominated in the most primal of ways.

She felt him slip out of her, which caused her to whimper, but when she saw his face, she nearly came on the spot. His curls were soaked with sweat, his blue eyes were darkened and hard, the features on his face were unlike how she'd ever seen them, so tainted with lust and that domineering hardness. It was a side of him that only came out in the bedroom. Usually, to others, Andy was giving, kind, and a bit goofy; he stumbled over his toes sometimes while dancing with her in public, but in private he glided across the room with perfect rhythm. In front of their friends, he was the good boy, who rarely acted out, but with her, he was reckless, coming undone like a wrapped up piece of rope.

And now, she was at his mercy as those eyes of his burned tingling holes all over her naked body, her nipples hardening, and her center growing so wet that she drenched the surface beneath her. She wanted him, so bad.

"Come on...," she nearly begged him.

"In the bedroom you call me Daddy, darling," he demanded sternly.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," her voice leaked with subservient submission, submitting to such a grown man turned her unlike anything else.

Andy wasn't like any of the boys she'd dated in her twenties or early thirties, he was a man. The greying beard and temples, those wrinkles around his eyes, the curls that bounced around his face, the confidence that he had when they were together intimately. It was something she'd always wanted, and no other man could compare to that.

She felt his hand cup her breasts, the fabric of her torn dress still hanging off his body, but instead of ripping the rest off, he tenderly removed it from her frame, disposing of it on the floor.

"It was a bit silly to spend six thousand dollars on this dress only to rip it off you," he joked.

"I didn't tell you to rip it apart, I could've worn this again," she protested, wrapping her legs around his middle as she pulled him closer.

"Where could you have possibly worn it?"

"I could've worn it to an event, premiere..."

"Without me there?" He quirked his eyebrows up and pouted, those pink lips pursing.

She kissed them, unable to resist. "You have your wife at home...I'm otherwise unspoken for..."

"Danai," he breathed out, removing his tie and blazer, and then his shirt.

His creamy white skin was splotched with red, his face nearly maroon. But, he was also filled with dread, because he'd realize that he didn't just want to screw her brains out, or have such a beautiful woman adorn his bed. He could easily do that, he'd had tons of offers, but this was different.

This was real, and he didn't know how to explain to her that he couldn't bare it if she was with another man. It was selfish; it wasn't right, but it was how he felt. And feelings, feelings could be a bit selfish.

"I don't want her, I want you," he admitted. "When I'm with her, you're all I'm thinking about, when my daughter asks me about work, I'm heartbroken because it's not her mother that I want to be with anymore, and she's older now. She's asked questions, and I don't want," she saw him slip to the floor, where her torn dress lay, and she held him. "I know that makes me a shitty man..."

"It doesn't make you shitty," Danai assured him.

"I never - it's not my intention to hurt you, to shag you and just leave. I don't do shit like that," he insisted. "It's more with us."

"I know, it is more," she told him, peering into his crystal blue depths. "Otherwise, I would have never done this."

"It would kill me to see you with somebody else, but if that made you happy...," he trailed off to the feel of her lips on his.

"You make me happy," she said, a bright smile on her face.

She saw him breathe in deeply, as he wrapped himself further into himself; she wanted to know all about him now. Why was someone so handsome so insecure? How had he been hurt? Did he think that he didnt deserve anything better?

"Is it okay if I tell you that I love you?" He suddenly asked her, vulnerable and quiet.

"No," she answered quickly, too quickly.

"We've talked about this before, but the last time I told Gael that I loved her, Matilda was seven," he admitted. "I admit to not being the best husband."

"Marriage is rough, you did your best," once again, she assured him.

"I just don't know if I deserve you," he finally admitted what was on his heart and mind since they'd began this affair, since the first time he'd felt what it was like to be with someone like her.

"If I wanted to be with someone else, I would be," she said.

"I know that, I just -"

" - No pity parties, no bullshit, none of that, you're no longer allowed to say or feel that way, and if you do, we'll talk about it. I do have a degree in psychology and am willing to take you on free of charge," she flashed those pearly whites at him.

"Then counsel me," Andy suddenly turns eager. "It can be like role play. You'll be a sexy psychiatrist, and I'll be..."

"My trouble patient named Rick," she giggles and then winks at him.

"I'm stuck in a loveless marriage and you've helped heal me, with the warmth of your heart and the warmth of your walls," he said.

Danai cringed. "You're lucky I've already slept with you, or that comment would've made me stop."

"You love me."

"No, I don't think I do."

"You do."

As he said this, his bright eyes glimmered a bit, as he giggled and grabbed her, placing her over his shoulder and carrying her to the room. It was then that she realized why she fell for him. It wasn't his looks, it wasn't their chemistry, she thinks that it's his love of love, his spontaneity, his ability to make her feel so happier. Happier than she's ever felt.

"I do," she finally relented, as he let her body fall to the sheets below them.

He began to nuzzle her neck, sucking and biting at it. "Why?"

"Are we really going to," she paused, gasping when he bit her neck. "Do this now?"

"I don't see the point of waiting," he shrugged, going back to work, before kissing her collar bone and then her breasts, before flicking her nipples with his deft tongue.

"You're fun to be around," she said.

She wasn't really able to concentrate on what he was doing, just the way that he was making her feel, it was hard to talk, much less think of the reasons why she was in this man's bed. She wasn't like this usually. She had rules, she liked rules, but consistently she broke them for this man.

"I consider that a lovely compliment," he answered, licking her outtie belly button, which caused her to giggle, before making his way back up to her face. "I think you're extraordinary," he admitted. "The things you do, the life you've lived, your plays, your advocacy, your -"

"I'm not perfect," she told him.

"I'm not saying you are, I'm just honored that you chose me," he explained. "I wish that I'd have met you earlier, but I know that I would have screwed it up. I was stupid in my early thirties..."

"Stupid enough to marry your wife?"

"Yes, that stupid and for reasons that no longer matter," he admitted.

"What are those reasons?"

She stroked his curls as he answered. "She had a lot of money, she was pretty fun, she was like a friend, really. I thought that was enough."

"I guess I get it," Danai finally answered. "You were stupid."

"That's a better for it," he finally admitted.

Danai was silent for a moment, still stroking his curls deep in thought. She processed his words as she thought back up her last relationship, or what you could call a relationship. The guy worked at one of her plays, and was exceptionally talented. He was artsy, intelligent, and tall, but she couldn't concentrate on him for very long. They'd dated for three months before she found herself in Andy's bed the first time, and then she'd broken up with him, and hasn't dated other men again.

And on her yearly trip to Zimbabwe, her aunt had questioned it. 'All of your sisters and cousins are married, my sweet,' she'd said. 'I know you want to change the world, but you can't always be alone.' Those words had haunted her, and the only one who truly knew the extended details about her fling with Andy was her sister Chingai, who'd listened to her cry, who listened to her cheer with glee, and everything in between over the blue eyed man.

"I think I'm in love with him," she'd admitted over the phone on her birthday. Andy had sent gifts and presents and flowers and a love poem for her. She'd been so overwhelmed that she'd called him, saying she missed him, and then she'd realized it.

"Oh, honey," her sister had said, sympathy leaking out. "Choni is probably better suited for this talk, but you have to be careful..."

"I really tried, it's just that the connection is so strong and he's such a good man, and I don't know how to stop it," she admitted.

"Have you slept with him?"

"Yes."

"More than one time?"

Danai hesitated. "Just once, a few months ago and we agreed that it was a mistake. We only slept together because I figured that the feelings would stop."

"Oh, baby sis, did they?"

"No," she sighed.

"If you really love him, I believe you. Just be careful, you've got so much at stake and you've worked very hard," her sister reminded her.

"I know, thank you, sisi," she said, as a tear leaked down her face.

Just then, Lupita walked into the trailer. "Hey, the cast wants to - oh, wow, who is all this from?"

Danai sniffled, hiding her face. "A friend."

In the present, she still stroked his curls, but he pulled her so that they could lay down on the bed below. His strong arms wrapped around her as she clutched his arms tight.

"How about we just cuddle tonight?" He asked her.

"I'd like that," she settled into him more, knowing that this was always more than a fling.