Author note: I took Chezza3009's advice and decided to expand upon the decimation of a marriage. I feel like it's important to write that out, because I feel like marriages don't just end, they unwind and become destroyed over time, and even if someone no longer loves their partner, there is still grief, guilt, and shame. Here, we see that decimation of it, confirmation of feelings elsewhere physically, and sexualization (you know what that means).
This chapter is heavily inspired by Afraid by Xavier Omar. I highly recommend listening to it before diving in.
The Romance part two: decimation, confirmation, and sexualization
2016
Andy awoke abruptly from his sleep with his hand wrapped around his stiff cock. He'd dreamed of Danai for the seventh time this month, even more times than the prior month, and he thought that it'd go away now that he was back home in England. But, it'd only grown worse. The guilt of it consumed him, as his wife slept right next to him, and meanwhile, he was dreaming of being sheathed inside some other woman. A woman that wasn't his; a woman that could never be his.
Gael stirred next to him, her usually wild blonde hair was even wilder, looking like some sort of peacock laying on the stark white sheets, only the flurries of color were gone, and immediately he went soft. She was nearly a stranger to him now, even though they'd been married for nearly a decade of his life, a whole quarter of it, and he couldn't recall why he'd fallen for her anymore.
He tried to think of the last time he'd found her beautiful, and his memories were hazy ones from a trip to Costa Rica in 2015. They were on an anniversary trip there, as it had been where he proposed to her. She'd brushed her hair down and her green eyes sparkled, and for a moment he remembered why he'd fallen for her. But, something else, someone, still invaded those thoughts. He also desperately wanted another child, and it'd been the start of their growing distance and resentment towards one another.
"Arthur is nearly five now," he'd brought up to her over dinner, the vast ocean providing the backdrop for the restaurant. "I think that we should try for another."
Instead of nodding yes, her eyes grew hard and her lips formed a thin line. "No, Andrew."
"But the kids are growing older, and I've always wanted a big family," he went on, oblivious to her growing anger. "My mum and dad only had -"
" - Andrew, I said no," she said once more, her tone was firm and left no room for argument.
"But -"
" - No, Andrew. I don't believe in the principle of having loads of children. We have two. Aren't you grateful for the one's we have? Haven't you heard my father explicitly say no?"
"That's straight bollocks, Gael," Andy huffed, growing angry and frustrated.
"How is that bollocks when I've told you the truth?"
"Because your father's opinions shouldn't interfere with our relationship, that's why! It feels like we have a third person in this and that's not what I signed up for when I married you," after years of holding onto pent up frustration, he'd finally snapped. "Do you know that when I even suggested the mere notion of having children, he threatened to mash my fucking cock to bits! Your father did."
"I have to listen to my father because he's my father," Gael responded coolly. "Who put the down payment on this house when your previous 'acting' career paid you pennies? My father did, so maybe you should be grateful to him."
"There you go again, not supporting my career. My career that pays for our children to go that expensive arse Hogwarts school, my career that pays every single bill in this household, my career that bought you a new car and gifts for your fucking birthday, maybe you should be grateful," he continued to yell, he was so angry now that his head throbbed and his face grew red.
"And who's taking care of those children? Me," she told him, effectively ending the argument, like always. Sometimes, he felt as though he was screaming into the abyss and nobody could hear his pleas.
Before he could respond, the doorbell rang, and Gael got up to get it. Various friends of Gael's that he scarcely knew walked through those doors, and her once hardened face with him transformed into a bright smile, and so also took his cue, creating a character in his mind to be. It was the start of them pretending that everything was alright when everything was terribly wrong.
And now, he stared at her, filled with guilt and confusion. He couldn't remember the important things about her anymore, the things that you're desperate to find out in the beginning. They were the things like favorite colors - Danai's was yellow, he recalled quickly - or what her favorite book was. He didn't know her anymore, and he quickly realized that he didn't care to.
After a while of staring, he climbed out of bed, and went to put on his clothes.
"Where are you going?" Gael asked.
"I'm going out to think about things," Andy answered vaguely, to which she nodded and fell straight to sleep once more.
:
When he finally got outside, he stared out into the late winter night. He was in the middle of the countryside, with acres upon acres of land, with virtually no neighbors. The sky was vast, and on this night all there was was the full moon, which took up nearly the whole sky, and not a single star present.
All he had out here were his thoughts, all he had out here was his mind. He sat down in the middle of the field, as the long weeds of grass brushed against his bare feet, and he thought about everything.
He thought about the fact that he and Gael no longer had sex, their last time was nearly four months ago, and it'd ended abruptly. For years, their sex life consisted of a rigorous schedule to make sure that Gael would not get pregnant. This included never having sex while she was ovulating, and only twice a month, sometimes only once when the children weren't home and he wasn't too tired from work.
The lack of sex, and the distance regarding Gael's strict regimen in terms of childbearing created a mile long wedge between them that nothing could repair. They'd tried dates, romantic dance lessons, but nothing helped. The fights that they used to have over Danai, or lack of support, or lack of another child simply turned into tersely passive aggressive exchanges. He rarely fought Gael anymore, really, but he also felt soul crushing guilt.
Guilt that he'd pleasured himself constantly to thoughts of Danai, guilt that kissing her was the best moment of his life, guilt that he was in love with someone else and nothing could stop that feeling, guilt regarding how his parents, his friends, or the world would view him if he threw in the towel and called it a quits.
He'd been married so long that it'd become apart of him like his house, his car, his job, and his children. And he was scared of who he would be without it.
All of it scared him, but his heart was so gone that he could no longer grasp it in his fingertips. He wanted Danai like he wanted air to breathe and food to eat; it was no longer a want, but a need. She was a supplement that sustained him, not a snack that just got him by. She was all he thought about these days, as the parts of his hearts that were once occupied gave way, and he realized what was missing in his life.
She was.
Two Months Later
"I've reviewed your files," said the marriage counselor. The stern older woman eyed them for a long while, before sighing. "Gwyneth recommended you?"
The counselor sat back in her chair analyzing the couple in front of her, the deja vu hitting her like waves in the ocean. They were tense, their bodies closed off from one another, and they didn't look each other's way once in the thirty minutes that they'd occupied her lobby. And for her, her lobby was like a scientist's test tube, it allowed her to analyze a couple before she even met them, and these two, she sighed once more, had a long way to go.
"She did," Gael answered, Andy slumped further into his chair. "We've reached a bit of a rough patch in our marriage. Andrew thinks it's an extended seven-year-itch, but Gwyneth said you might be able to help us."
"Help you with what, exactly?" the shrewd counselor asked.
"Help us repair what's wrong," Gael continued on. "I think I've done everything right, but Andrew isn't happy with that."
The counselor flitted her eyes towards their hefty file on the table. "In your files it says you're the daughter of Ian Anderson, come from money, and in yours it says you're an actor, is this correct?"
"Yeah," Andy answered noncommittally.
"Interesting indeed," she hummed. "I'm going to be very frank with you both. The actors and entertainers I've worked with, such as Gwyneth and Chris usually leave here with divorce papers in hand. What makes you different?"
"We just want to fix ours more," Gael answered, averting her eyes towards Andrew, whose eyes remained fixed on the wall. "Right?"
"Yeah," Andy shrugged.
"Okay, this is what we'll do…," the counselor began, and after that, all Andy heard were the womp, womp sounds of a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving Special. He realized it, while sitting in the small, quaint office of Mrs. Gloria, a renowned marriage counselor who'd even worked with Beyonce and Jay Z, that he didn't want to be here. He didn't want to fix his marriage. He didn't want to me married anymore. He wanted to be free of the metaphorical chains and shackles that this marriage brought him, but the thing keeping him from leaving wasn't his reputation, his job, his kids, or his pride. It was something simpler and deadlier; it was fear.
God has not given us the spirit of fear
But the spirit of love looking like it's not here
I'm afraid.
That was the thought that wrecked his mind over and over again as he saw his wife, who looked more put together than she had in years, discuss their marriage at length. She was desperate to repair what she saw as a "small hurdle," in their nine year marriage, but that hurdle was a very tall mountain to Andy. It was a mountain that he feared falling from.
Baby I'm afraid
Really, I'm afraid
Of loving you
I'm so scared, he thought once more. He was scared of how strong his feelings for Danai were becoming, and he didn't know how to turn them off. How do you turn off something like this? He pondered, feeling like he was having some sort of out of body experience. He was floating above his body, somewhere between the ceiling and his chair. He watched dutiful Andrew Clutterbuck listen and nod on occasion, while Andy Lincoln went somewhere else.
To someone else.
Two More Months Later
Andy jogged onto set, hoping that he could get a just a peak at Danai, but lately she'd been in New York a lot for her Tony nomination as well as her play Eclipsed. And finally, today he saw her sitting with her assistant Kyle, a tall twenty something African American man, who wore the hell out of a fedora and handled Danai's Black Girl's Rock tote bag with ease. Apart of him secretly resented Kyle, because at least he didn't go months on end with so much as a phone call, but he knew that Danai was busy and didn't owe him anything, as much as he craved it.
As he got closer, he heard her giggle and shush whoever was on the line, and then avert her eyes up to Andy before abruptly ending the call.
"Kyle," Andy nodded at her assistant.
Kyle faltered a bit, nervously nodding at the semi-frightening white man. "An-Andrew…"
"Danai, hey," Andy greeted her more casually. "I see you had an important call."
"I did," Danai answered.
Kyle sat down behind them, and grabbed a mug of freshly brewed tea; his boss' "friendship" with this co-star of hers. He'd been following Danai around all summer, as she'd hired him to manage all of her different affairs, and even the guy she was dating didn't make Danai behave this way. She honestly treated Andy more like a boyfriend or husband than any man she encountered.
"Well, I'm glad," Andy rubbed his curls nervously. "I thought maybe we could grab lunch together this weekend, if you're up to it…"
"Can't," Danai told him quickly. "I'm going to be in New York this weekend for a gala, and then I've got a...a date."
Andy gasped, releasing a breath that he didn't even know that he was holding. Of course she'd eventually date someone, he thought to himself, but the jealousy within him continued to fester. He'd felt it for years, but had never put a word on the wild, unabated anger that swelled within his body whenever Danai interacted too much with another man.
He knew that it was irrational, because he had a whole wife at home. He couldn't imagine how Danai must've carried the weight of that all the time, but still, he felt it consume him and make him irrational.
"A date?" he questioned her.
She gulped. "Yeah, I've been seeing someone for a few weeks now...I think I like him."
"You think or you know, Danai? Because you should be sure," he said.
He saw the look in those big brown doe eyes of hers, as she quickly averted her gaze to Kyle, who still sat watching the pair eagerly, as if they were the most entertaining soap opera on television. "Kyle, can you give us a moment? Actually," she signed, touching the bridge of her nose. "You can take the rest of the day off, I'll pay you the same."
"Really, D?" he jumped up. "I'm outta here! Bye!"
And with that, he was gone quicker that Usain Bolt at the Olympics. But, once he was, an awkwardly tense lull overtook the entire space, as Andy found himself at war with himself.
He'd been in marriage counseling for two months now, but made absolutely no progress. The marriage counselor had suggested all of the things that they'd tried but failed at, and whenever he was there he'd stare at the paint lining the walls, wishing beyond reason that he was somewhere - anywhere - else.
"I don't know what you expected, Andy," Danai finally admitted, after a long silence.
I don't doubt your heart, I just know things change
Don't want think no more, I can't defeat this shame
Andy flushed, turning away from her. "I don't know either, but I wish you'd told me. I wish you would disappear for long periods of time. I wish…," I wish I had the courage to make you mine. "You'd have told me. We're close enough for that, right?"
She simply nodded, and for the first time he couldn't read her. His outward frustration, along with their method preparation had left the pair of them awkward and unsure around one another, but the tension still hung in the air like a miasma. "Andy, I don't even know what you want. You claim to want a friendship with me, but get mad when I decided to date someone else. You claim to not want anything to do with your wife, but you're trying to fix things with her. You claim to hate how your life is progressing, but you're too complacent and -"
"- I just don't want there to be secrets between us. We're working on scenes where we're going to need to trust one another with everything, which means transparency," he went on, invading her space. "Tell me."
He heard her breath hitch at his volatile, desperate, domineering plea. "Tell you what?"
"Are you serious about him? Are you?"
She averted her eyes away from those eyes of his, and he couldn't see anything swimming within them anymore. "No."
"Good," he nodded.
"I'm not yours," she blurted out. "I don't belong to you."
And, for the first time in their friendship, he decided to blur that proverbial line. He decided to risk it and throw caution to the wind, as he pressed his body up against hers, so close that he could tell the swell of her breasts, and the beating of her heart. "You've belonged to me since the moment you walked into this set," he breathed into her ear, while running his tongue down the side of her face. He felt her shudder, her composure slipping.
"I -," she breathed out, flushed and unable to meet his eyes. He felt her push him away, before she stalked off quickly towards the other trailers.
What the fuck did I just do? He questioned himself as he tried to right his breathing.
:
Once again, Andy sat in his apartment in Atlanta late at night with his dick in his hand. He pumped and pumped, while playing with his balls, imagining her juicy lips wrapping around him as she sucked him to completion. These thoughts festered in his mind as he laid on the stark white sheets of his bed.
He closed his eyes and imagined her in front of him - those dark brown eyes hypnotising him into a flurry of errant passion as she stripped out of a scarlet red tight body hugging dress. She'd slowly strip out of it, revealing her lacy pink bra and matching thong. Fucking hell, she's divine. And then she'd crawl on the bed on her hands and knees, that plump ass in the air, beckoning him, calling him.
His eyes popped open as his phone vibrated on the table, which caused him to sigh and release himself, his dick immediately going soft. The last person he wanted to hear from right now was Gael, but the call to look at the phone was stronger than his urge to remain vigilant. And so he did, but it wasn't his wife. It was Danai.
Hey. I just wanted to apologize about earlier, I should have told you about him. But, we just sort of happened. I'd never intentionally keep anything from you. You're my best friend and I trust you.
Once he read her message, he felt incredibly bad about how he'd behaved earlier and even how he was behaving at the moment. Danai was feeling guilty, and here he was jacking off to the thought of her. It didn't seem right, to have these thoughts that would never leave him no matter how hard he tried to shake them from his mind and body and soul. They were there because he felt them, and he could no longer fight them.
Please don't beat yourself up over it. I was the wrong one here. I behaved inappropriately.
Don't apologize. I liked it.
Andy read her message over and over again, as he felt himself growing hard once more, and then sighed as he let the arousal flow through him. Her liking him being that domineering and possessive of her turned him on beyond belief, and he knew that what he was about to do would further the inappropriateness of their relationship, but like a drug addict, he was fueled by it.
You liked me telling you those things?
Yes.
Really?
Yes, Andy. I'd love to feel you inside me. I bet that'd be nice.
What?
He sat up in the bed, immediately his dick was hard as a rock again. He fought the urge to stroke it softly up and down, up and down, up and down, because he wasn't sure if this was really her, if she really wanted this with him. Instead, he let his hard on go unattended; red and throbbing.
Are you drunk?
I'm sUuuper drunk. Sonequa and Lauren took me out. Gotta go.
Confused, aroused, and verklempt, he threw his phone against the wall and padded towards the bathroom. He knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight without a long, ice cold shower.
Comic Con 2016
"Do you think Danai likes me?" Andy randomly asked Sonequa as they stood near the wall at the Hard rock hotel where their cast pictures adorned nearly every wall.
Sonequa handed him her camera phone. "Sure, now take a picture with me over by this wall," she said, pulling him towards the wall.
After the picture was over, Andy was unsatisfied with her answer. He was still pondering Danai's drunk text last month, but had no way of broaching that subject with her best friend. Instead, he decided to dive around it, and fish for answers. "No, I mean, do you think that there's," Andy leaned in to whisper. "Something between us."
"Ew, Andy, even if I wasn't married, you're like my brother," Sonequa shuddered, which caused Andy to laugh.
"No, no, no! I meant Danai and I. Is there something between Danai and myself?"
Sonequa just laughed. "I know, I was just playing with you. But yeah, no shit. Danai has been crushing on you for awhile now. Whenever we talk it's Andee this and Andee that, I'm almost tired of talking to you right now because I hear about you so much."
"Really!?" Andy's light eyes brightened with excitement.
"Yes, really," she confirmed.
"You can't tell anyone, but I like her too. A lot," Andy sighed, running his hands through his curls. "I don't know what to do about it."
"The first thing that you need to do is leave your wife, and if you're not gonna leave her, then make a move already," Sonequa told him. "Danai wants you, but you're not entitled to her. Earn her, woo her, show her that she's special."
"I will," Andy vowed. "Thank you, Sonequa. I -"
Before Andy could finish, a stunning Danai walked into the room wearing a body hugging white dress. It was the first time that Andy had seen her all dressed up in months, so naturally his eyes drug up and down her body, landing awkwardly on her toned legs, before quickly darting up to her, and blushing. He adjusted his hat to cover his face, while once again rubbing at his curls.
"I was looking for you guys," Danai told them. "We have some press to do."
"Press is nice," Andy added, awkwardly. "Very educational."
Danai arched an eyebrow up at him in confusion, while Andy internally freaked. He hadn't been this nervous around a girl since secondary school, and all he could imagine while talking to her now was his cock buried deep inside of her just like she'd wanted it, just like she'd told him. "Educational?"
"Yes, you know we learn a lot from these press conventions. Right, Sonequa?"
Sonequa sighed. "Yes, Andy, we do. We better go now."
Andy saw Sonequa shake her head and laugh under her breath as she guided Danai down the long hallway towards the interview rooms in the hotel. Once there, she sat with the girls, while Andy sat with the boys, and shot longing looks towards her. He didn't know how much longer he could deny himself her, and with Gael deciding not to come to Comic Con this weekend, he was feeling incredibly tempted by her.
Constantly, he was wracked with thoughts of just one more taste of her, but he pushed them aside to remain professional.
" - Andy," He heard his name being called, but paid it no mind. "Andrew, it's me - Scott."
Finally, Andy snapped out of his errant thoughts about Danai, and came face to face with his boss Scott Gimple. Gimple was very perceptive, and intuitive, often putting together things going on with the actor's personal lives faster than they did, and when he sat an actor down alone to talk, it was usually about taking time off or leaving the show all together.
"I need to talk to you, Andy," Scott told him, and then smiled at the worried expression on his face. "Don't worry, I'm not firing you. Yet."
"Very funny, Gimps," Andy said, before getting up, but not before noticing Danai's eyes follow him out of the room.
Once they were alone, Scott let out a long, stressed sigh. "AMC wants you to distance yourself from Danai at some events," Scott began. "With the whole cliffhanger spectacle, they want the audience to wonder if you or her could possibly be dying."
"I don't think us sitting together -"
" - and we know you two want to fuck each other," Scott said bluntly. "I know, that's why your characters are together on the show right now, but there's rumors going around, and people in high circles are talking. As a matter of fact one of my editors said it's spreading."
"Those rumors are baseless though," Andy quickly defended himself. "Danai and I have nothing going on. We're just friends."
"Who are you trying to convince of that, Andy?" Scott said, before walking off towards the rest of the cast.
:
The next day, Andy awoke to the sound of his alarm blaring and a massive headache. It was nearly half past nine, and in that moment he knew that he was late. He shot up out of the bed, pulling on a pair of beach shorts, grabbing a porcelain cup of tea, putting a towel over his shoulder, and making sure to bring a change of clothes before dashing out of the door.
In all of his recent years, he'd trained himself to be the epitome of perfection and professionalism. He was always on time, and always respectful, but today he was late as hell. And when he did crash through the doors, he crashed right into the soft body of Danai, which caused her to fall backwards, and his half naked body to land on her own.
"What a greeting," she giggled. "And a porcelain cup? Really?"
Ignoring the awkward sexual tension, he pulled himself up off of her, and then helped her up. "Yes, really. You don't pack a porcelain cup when you travel for tea breaks? I thought everyone did."
"You thought wrong," she giggled some more, her eyes trailing down his toned chest and abs before landing at his pelvis. He could've sworn he saw her lick her lips before clearing her throat. "I've seen worse things."
"Like what?"
"Like Norman's refrigerator," Danai giggled, then brushed some glitter from Andy's beard. "There's still some...on your face."
He blushed, absentmindedly rubbing his beard. "Thank you, it's hard to get stuff out of my beard once I've got it around my mouth. It's why I'm careful about how I eat things."
"I'm sure you are careful about that…," she trailed off, and he could've sworn he felt the room temperature increase by nearly 20 degrees.
"Enough flirting y'all, it's time to get this done," Sonequa told them, pulling Danai along. "I'm your resident buffer today because Steven quit, Norman wants a threesome, Chandler is too young for the foolishness, I'm pretty sure Lauren would watch you fuck, and Jeffrey is too brand new. Now, y'all know I don't play."
"We know," Andy and Danai said in unison.
"Y'all better fuck on your own time," Sonequa told them, before whispering. "I do support that."
"We know," Andy and Danai once again chimed in.
"Now Andy, put some damn clothes on," Sonequa said, taking Danai towards the first interviews.
While she walked away, he finally got a good look at the purple dress that Danai wore. It felt like God himself was punishing him with Danai's exposed shoulders, because they'd become a bit of a kink for him in the past few months. He'd started to notice how strong and smooth they looked in her tank tops, the way her breasts sat, high and perky on her chest. And that ass. That ass. He nearly whistled when he saw how her dress revealed everything to his thirsty eyes.
As she walked away, he saw her turn and smile at him, and shoot him the brightest, most heart stopping style, before walking out of sight. He heard Sonequa's words blare in his mind once more. 'Danai wants you, but you're not entitled to her. Earn her, woo her, show her that she's special.' And so, he vowed himself that that's what he would do.
:
After all the interviews were done, Steven suggested that the cast all go out to dinner together, and maybe drink some. Usually, Andy would refuse that, as his wife and children were around, and he never felt completely comfortable leaving them out of things, but now, he couldn't say no. He honestly wanted to explore whatever flirty tension there was between himself and Danai. He just wanted to be in her company after spending several days distancing himself from her while also flirting non-stop with her whenever they spoke.
There was also the drunk text from her which he hasn't deleted. He wanted to know if she even remembered it or not, if she felt anything for him or not, if she was still dating that guy, if they'd crossed too many boundaries. His mind was a mirage of ifs.
At the party he'd found her easily. Everyone had come with a partner of some sort, but she'd come alone, and sat alone while everyone coupled up. For him, he saw it as an opportunity to reclaim the one constant thing that always made sense to him: their friendship.
"A beautiful woman such as yourself shouldn't be nursing a drink alone," he said, coming to sit next to her.
Danai simply moved over, making room for him. "And how do you know that I'm alone?"
Andy looked around, a bright smile on his face.
"Well, I don't see anyone," he said.
"Nice one, smarty pants," she chuckled. "I'm just thinking."
"About what?" He asked her.
"My life, my career, a lot," she admitted. "I had a panel today for possibly the biggest movie and opportunity of my life, and all I could think was…," she paused, her face grew weary. He found himself staring at her profile, as her eyes stared off some place beyond him. "Sometimes, I get scared, you know. What if I worked this hard for nothing? I don't really have - you know what, this is stupid. Why am I telling you this?"
"No," he said quietly, intent on listening. "Isn't acting about listening? I'll listen to whatever you have to say."
And just like that, he was once again graced with that smile of hers. The one that he'd risk everything for. "You're too perfect, you know? I don't know how one person can be so good."
"I don't think I'm that great," he shrugged, hiding underneath his hat.
"Don't hide," she told him, taking his hat off, while brushing some hair behind his ears. "You're beautiful, everything about you is beautiful."
His eyes filled with unshed tears. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been told that, or shown that type of affection, the last time he'd been touched in that way. He grabbed her hand and tenderly kissed it, and noted how she didn't pull away. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," she told him. "And I'm sorry for that text, I don't - I don't know what came over me that night. I got to drinking and I just -"
" - Don't worry about it," he said, simply enjoying this moment that they were having with each other.
"Okay," she nodded.
Two Months Later, September
Andy sat alone in his trailer, pondering life and everything in between. Things with Danai were a lot better, even though they'd been keeping their distance, and as far as Andy knew, she was still dating that guy in New York. Whenever she'd spoken to Andy, she never mentioned him, never hung by her phone, never really bothered with him much, and even though she was constantly on the move, she'd been texting and facetiming Andy constantly. It was like something in Danai lifted resistance, and he desperately wanted to know what it was,although apart of him was just glad to be near her and around her.
And now, it was nearing the end of September, and they were about to receive their scripts for episode twelve, when a creeping feeling overcame the both of them. He heard the sound of her light tapping on his door, to which he opened.
"I got the script for seven twelve," Danai told him, before slumping down into the couch cushions. "Scott said to read it together, so let's read it together."
"How about you read it to me?" Andy gave her a flirtatious grin.
"No," she answered.
"Fine," he sighed, as she handed him his copy.
Once Andy reached the third act, he'd read at least four sex scenes, and several scenes of intimacy between their characters. Sweat began to pool at his temple, as his eyes darted towards Danai, who studiously read her script with rapt attention.
"Well," he sat back. "This should be fun."
:
Later in the week, the pair sat in the confines of a small dingy van. They'd been at least attempting to go over the scene, but after many frustrating takes, Greg called them over to the side. They'd started to realize that Greg wasn't the best at directing romantic scenes, as he had the emotional capacity of a Michael Bay film, and so most of the time, they'd have to direct their own romantic scenes.
"I don't know why this isn't working for me," Greg huffed, reading over his script. "The script gives no details on the actual love scene at all, so I just don't know how to stage it."
"How about we stage it?" Andy asked, a lightbulb going off on the top of his head. "I've got some directing experience, so Danai and I will improvise it."
"I don't know about that…," Greg trailed off.
"Don't you trust us?" Danai gave him her most charming smile.
"No," Greg muttered, whispering something to the camera operator.
"Do you want to get this scene done today?" Danai questioned him, this time more serious.
Greg just sighed. "Fine," he agreed. "The camera guy is going to set up there, boom guy there, A.D. over there with me."
"So, we'll be in there alone?" Andy whispered even though everyone could still hear him.
"Yes," Greg told them. "I'll view you through the dailies."
Andy knew that he was making a mistake, he knew that Greg was making a mistake, he knew that Danai was making a mistake, he knew that the crew was making a mistake, but instead of saying no, like he should've done, he instead nodded and pulled Danai inside the van with him. And instead of guilt, Andy felt aroused and excited. Instead of sadness, he felt deep elation. He wanted to show Danai what he could make her feel, what he wanted to do to her if he could.
When he looked over at Danai, she didn't look afraid either, just coy. She his herself from him, and he was desperate to make her willing and ready to do this scene, so he leaned over her, and pressed his lips to her neck, and just sucked for a while, which seemed to loosen her up.
After that, things just escalated further and further to the basics. Greg would make simple requests, like removing one more piece of clothing, but otherwise they were completely alone in the van together, which was like two bears recently released from lifelong captivity, and all of those repressed animalistic urges are released.
Everything was a blur to Andy once Danai removed her bra, and her breasts poured out. For a second he just stared at them, stared at her voluptuous breasts, and her dark areolas. He'd never been more aroused as he was in that moment, and before he knew it, he'd lunged right at her, attaching his lips to her swollen buds. He pulled her pants off, and kissed her everywhere while she gasped for air, and nobody called cut. This continued until both of them were stark naked and writhing on each other in the lotus position.
The temptation was too much to bare, which lead to Danai spread eagle in her trailer afterwards with Andy in between her legs eating her out like the starving man that he'd become. Both of them knew that they were crossing some sort of line, but neither of them cared.
The following day, Andy still felt anxious about what had transpired the day before in the van, as well as in the trailer afterwards. He knew that there was no way that they could be friends like they were before. Things were different now, better, but also more complicated because everything that they were fighting for so long unravelled and unloaded and unwinded yesterday, and now they had to face that.
But, once again, Andy expected to feel something that he didn't. He didn't feel guilty, because he liked it. He liked all of it. He liked kissing her body, he liked feeling her against him, he liked feeling her warm center over his bare cock, he even liked the moment where he almost went inside of her. And after, he didn't even regret the taste of her pussy on his tongue when he'd ate her like a birthday cake in her trailer afterwards. All he wanted was to do it again and again and again.
Somehow, he'd grown even more obsessed with her, and didn't care anymore about how that came across. He just wanted her one more time.
Danai, are you busy?
No.
Can we meet up for lunch somewhere? I have this golf tournament thing, but there's this place that we can meet. It's private…
Okay, I'll meet you. I do think that we need to talk.
Alright, it's a date.
After sending the last text, Andy went to his dresser and threw out all of his clothes, which didn't amount to much. He had several hats, probably more of those than actual t-shirts and pants, and with Gael choosing to stay put in England, he'd been learning how to do his own laundry, which hadn't been the most successful venture in his life.
He felt fifteen again, and like this was the first time in his life that he was going to meet a girl, and spend time with her. But, he wasn't young, and this wasn't his first rodeo. He wanted to look good to her, he wanted to at least try to look presentable, which made him pick up his nicest golf polo and a pair of tailored jeans and one of his nicest hats, which meant nothing with an animal on it, and then he set off the carry out his errands for the day.
:
At around two, Andy found himself sitting in the back of a pretty exclusive restaurant. Danai had texted him that she'd meet him there an hour after he arrived so that it wouldn't look like they came together or were together, which seemed a bit silly to him, but he wanted to appease her.
"Sorry for keeping you waiting," he finally heard her voice, and then he saw her.
She looked gorgeous, with a low cut bandu top, which showed off her glorious breasts and creamy dark skin to him. Her dress was once again body hugging. It was as if he was constantly being tortured or tempted in her presence and he was tired of denying that.
"God, you look gorgeous," he stood, and leaned all the way over to kiss her cheek, but instead she moved her face and their lips brushed together.
She flushed, and sat down, unable to meet his eyes. "Yesterday...was a mistake, Andy. I think that we just got carried away with our characters."
"I don't think that it was a mistake," he leaned forward, his voice husky and deep. "I can still taste you on my tongue."
"You just can't say stuff like that to me while we're in public," she said nervously, looking around the restaurant to see if anyone noticed them. So far, nobody did.
Andy was undeterred. "If it was a mistake, or a moment of passion with our characters, then maybe we should just do it again and see if we still feel like this after."
"That's risky, Andy," Danai averted her eyes away.
"But you dressed like that for me," Andy told her. "You want me too, I know it."
"And if I did?"
"Then you'd just let this happen, just live in the moment, just have fun for once in your life," Andy convinced her. "Just be mine for today and we can forget about this. I just want you, in whatever way we can be together right now."
Danai simply smiled, and he knew that he'd convinced her. "Alright…"
:
Once they left the restaurant - separately of course - a fan caught them, which didn't bother Andy, but did bother Danai. They'd had to call in a favor with Lauren, which meant explaining themselves a bit, but she'd agreed to act as a decoy as long as she got exclusive details into their rendezvous. They'd even gone through the trouble of using separate cars to drive to Danai's apartment in an upscale part of Inman Park in Atlanta, where they'd snuck inside.
Once inside, they drank a bit of wine, talked some, and once again wound up in Danai's bedroom without many clothes on, with Andy's head in between Danai's legs, voraciously eating her out.
"God…," she moaned. "Fuck."
When he added two fingers, pressing them upwards against her clit, and then sucked on it at the same time with those pouty lips of his, she nearly saw God, or at least she saw Morgan Freeman's God. But he didn't stop because she tasted better than anything else, she tasted so good. I could do this all day, he thought to himself as he hummed and sucked, hummed and sucked. Her hands grabbed at his curls so hard that it was painful, but it only aroused him further. He was harder than he'd ever been in his entire life in that moment, only knowing the feeling of right now.
He should feel guilty but he just felt pleasure. He'd wanted this for so long; he'd wanted her for so long.
"Fuck, Andy," he heard her whimper and gasp, and then scream as her orgasm overtook him, and her wetness completely drenched his hands and beard. He'd probably never wash her scent from it.
"I guess I should watch how I eat," he joked, which earned him a boisterous giggle from Danai.
"I still want you inside me," she suddenly admitted. "I wasn't drunk when I said that, I lied."
Andy just grinned. "I know," and then he laid back on the bed, his dick was almost purple now, as it bobbed and protruded upwards, pointing at her. "Please ride me."
"Okay," she responded, before licking up his strong calves, to his muscled thighs, to his arms, before she sat on to of him and straddled him.
Her breasts were so perky; her pussy was so wet, he could feel it drenching his abdomen, and dropping down his pelvis and thighs. He wanted her so bad right now, and couldn't wait any longer for her to move, so he lifted her up, and sat her atop of dick and then impaled her with it. She gasped, unprepared for the feeling of being filled and he moaned at how warm and wet she was. And when she moved, God, he wasn't prepared for that at all.
The sensations were so pleasurable that all he felt and knew was that. He knew that he wouldn't be able to do this once because it was unlike anything he'd ever experienced in his life.
She swivelled her hips slowly at first, allowing him to feel every inch of her, and he did. His hands roamed all over her body, and even tweaked her nipples, before grabbing her hips and setting a fast, galloping pace atop her. "I always knew you rode well, darling."
Her only response was hushed moans and whimpers as the dirtiest, nastiest shit left his British mouth and a low, rich baritone replaced his usually light and post accented voice. Suddenly, his accent was thick, and rumbly; a side of him that hadn't come out in over ten years. With her he felt young again.
The two of them raced towards competition, as his hands found her center before flipping her over onto her back and thrusting into her even faster than before.
"Please," he heard her whisper. "I'm so close."
"I know you are," he assured her, thrusting harder and faster into her depths until she shattered all around him again, and so did he afterward.
He internally cursed himself for not pulling out of her, but she just felt so good. Going raw was a risk, but it was one that they'd both taken and accepted. When he rolled over onto his back, he felt boneless and sweaty. He couldn't describe in words how wonderful it felt to be with her like that, but he didn't regret it.
Cuz you give to me
Everything I pray for, every single day for
Listen to me, honestly
You don't have to wait for me to feel I'm safe or
That I'm ready this time
I want no one else, not "too" focused on myself
It's just baby I'm afraid
Really I'm afraid
Of loving you.
They didn't speak as he cuddled her close to him, not wanting to let her go. But, when he awoke the next morning, she was gone.