Some parts of chapter one that were briefly mentioned in that chapter will be fleshed out further in this chapter, so I'd recommend reading it again and then reading this.
Also, I know that a lot of people are protective over Danai in general in terms of Dandy, and that some have expressed concern on how shipping "Dandy," reflects poorly upon her, but that's not the case. Before I wrote this story, I consumed pretty much every print interview that I could about Danai. I read about her plays, her family, her friends, and I watched interviews to gather as much as I could about her personality. And then I put it together in a way that shows how much I respect her. In this story she is not going into this without guilt; her guilt is constant throughout, but this story addresses how you fall in love, and sometimes no matter how hard you fight, you just get lost in it. Danai is a woman, and I'd rather imagine her as a multifaceted, complex, multilayered, and flawed human being than perfection personified. I'd rather include the ugly bits, as well as the beautiful bits, the things that makes her - and us - human.
This chapter delves more into fictional demons, and I hope you enjoy it. I'm very sorry for this long monologue, and I truly appreciate all your kind words in regards to this story.
The Romance part three: the "L" word
2016 part two.
Danai awoke to the sound of Andy's soft snoring; his body was still wrapped around hers like a safe cocoon. And, she noted, his features appeared much younger when he was sleeping. He was so innocent, so soft, so warm, so -
And there it was, that creeping, festering doubt in her head. The guilt. The pain. His ring was still on his finger, that bright, shimmering silver that she'd caught all of those years ago; the shimmering that felt like a warning to run and never look back. She'd let herself get caught up with this man, this beautiful, perfect man, but she couldn't keep doing this to herself. She couldn't keep coming to his bed, she had to cut him off quickly, and pretend that this never happened, and maybe they could get back to how things were before. But, something inside of her lurched at the thought of losing Andy, of losing this.
His arm tightened around her, but she slid out of his grasp, quickly heading out of the room. Along the way, she found a pair of underwear, some jeans, and a sweater to put on, as well as a pair of her favorite dark shades. Once she was satisfied with her look, she made her way to the kitchen and sighed deeply in her chest. How had she allowed herself to bring him to her home? How had she allowed herself to sleep with him? How had she allowed him into her heart? She didn't know, she just knew that she wanted him so badly. She knew that the attraction had been building in the past months, with her constantly marvelling over how beautiful his eyes were, how soft his hair looked, how toned his body was.
She'd even thought about how he'd feel on top of her, inside of her. God, she'd wanted that so bad, and was tired of denying herself just one taste. And now, she was feeling guilty, she was feeling remorseful, she was thinking about those who would be hurt by her actions, and she was thinking about him.
But before she could dig deeper into that feeling, her phone rang, insistent in her pocket, and so she picked it up, dreading talking to anyone at the moment. She felt like they'd just know that she'd done something wrong.
"Hey," she whispered into the phone, as if she had a dirty secret to hide.
She heard Lauren's light giggle on the other side of the line. "Hey, Danai, are you busy?"
"Sort of…," Danai trailed off, staring into her empty living room.
"Well, did everything go alright with you and Andy yesterday? Anything you want to tell me?"
Danai just sighed, as she started to pace around the kitchen looking for answers. How did you tell one of your best friends that you'd had the best sex of your life with their married friend? You didn't, that's what you did. But then Danai figured that this was Lauren, the same Lauren who wanted them together for years, the one who'd covered for them yesterday with no regrets or questions asked. She knew that she could trust her, and she really needed to get this off her chest.
"I'm going to tell you something, but you can't scream," Danai told her. "Promise me that you won't scream."
The line went silent for awhile before Lauren finally answered. "Okay, fine. I promise! Now spill!"
"IsleptwithAndylastnight," Danai breathed out, so it came out in one, long, bumbling word.
"YOU DID WHAT!?"
"Lauren."
"Sorry, sorry," Lauren rushed to apologize. "You and Andy are just like Monica and Chandler, well except -"
"Monica is a Caucasian woman…," Danai cut in with a laugh of her own.
"Monica is white, but other than that, you're the same! Andy is the goofy guy with a crush and you're the serious, nonsense, yet lovable woman who is just trying to live her life, and then the wedding happens and you sleep together, but -"
" - I didn't know that you were such a big Friends fan, LC," Danai once again interrupted. The lighthearted conversation was taking her mind off of what she knew was an incredibly serious matter.
"Who wasn't? Anyways, Danai, this is great news! It's about time that you two finally got together," Lauren said.
"But LC, it's, it's...not that simple," Danai admitted. "Andy's still married to his wife, he's still got a family, he still lives 5,000 miles away most of the year, and he still wears his wedding ring. I don't-," she pauses. "I'm so stupid. I knew this was a mistake yesterday."
"What was a mistake?" came a deeper, huskier voice from within the same room, which caused her to look up from the phone call. It was him - Andy.
Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes surveyed his body. Not one for shyness, he stood in her living room completely naked, his hard on erect and pointing right at her. Her eyes awkwardly flitted upwards, to his toned abs and torso, those strong arms and forearms, those legs. A surge of arousal shot to her core, as she bit her lips and pressed her legs together. She refused to sleep with him again, even if she really, really wanted to.
"I've gotta go," she muttered into the phone, before turning to face him.
"Hey," he greeted her, a bright smile spread across his face.
He looked younger now, rested, peaceful. His curls were messy, piled randomly atop his head in waves in which she yearned to run her fingers through and fix with her eager fingers. Those curls were her weakness, as she'd spend countless hours fantasizing about them. She imagine at first what it felt like to simply touch them, and then the fantasies grew more explicit, as she'd imagine what they'd feel like in between her legs as she gripped them with all her might.
There'd even been times where she'd awoken in the middle of the night, sweating profusely at the thought of those silly curls. But she had to snap out of it. The van was just them getting carried away, last night was amazing, but it was just sex.
"I thought - I thought you'd left…," he said when she didn't respond.
Danai frowned, but couldn't deny that she was right. The only reason that she hadn't left was because this was her apartment, which she'd quickly realized was a another mistake. "I - I'm sorry."
"It's alright. I understand," he responded, walking towards her, as she tried to step back, but the wall blocked her from going any further. "Last night…," he paused, smiling to himself, as his intense eyes burned bright and intense while staring at her. "It was the most amazing night of my life and I know you feel it too."
"Andy -"
" - Danai, what we shared, what we did, it was real, wasn't it?"
"It was real, but -"
" - I love you," he blurted out suddenly, seeming surprised by his own emotions as he paused her a long while, but Danai felt frozen - paralyzed by his words.
"W - what?" She eked out.
"I love you. I'm in love with you," he repeated, more sure in his words this time, but the answer wasn't what she wanted to hear at the moment, because they only confused her more.
All she saw was him, this resplendent man, with a nearly perfect life, who made her feel things that she couldn't explain, bare his soul to her, say that he loved her. But, she had a hard time believing him in the moment, considering that he still had a life back home, and she was only hindering it. When around him, he reminded Danai of a spider, but not the kind that's instantly threatening. No, Andy was a gentle spider, the kind in which you are lured in by the sweet, tempting smell of their web; their arms wrap around you, and you feel safe, until they eat you alive. That was Andy. Andy was trouble, but he was also everything that she'd ever wanted.
Ever since Danai was little, she loved Dirty Dancing. It was an embarrassing thing to admit, even to her best friends, but Patrick Swayze had been her dream man. At five years old, she'd made him her boyfriend and decided that one day she'd marry him. She adored his bright blue eyes and curly mane of shaggy mullet hair. She loved his nearly bowlegged swag. And then, that feeling came rushing back when she met Andy. He was so much like him; she was fucked.
"Andy, you can't love me," she whispered, still unable to make eye contact.
"I do, I love you," he said, his voice firm and sure. "I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. I've never felt this way about anyone, Danai and I'm sure of it. I thought that I knew what love was when I met Gael, but that's nothing compared to this. I feel like I've ripped my heart out and given it to you, like my mind only thinks of you, like I'm the happiest when I'm with you. I'll do anything you want."
"Then go back home," Danai told him. "Settle everything."
"But -"
"And then we can be together," Danai choked out, her eyes brimming with tears. "I want to be sure, I need you to be sure."
"Please tell me that there's something between us, that when I come back, this can continue," he requested, running his fingers down the side of her face.
Danai turned around, unable to face him. "You don't know what you're saying."
"I do," he insisted. "My marriage has been shit for a long time, and you know that…"
"But I can't trust that this will amount to anything. I can't - I can't do that," she told him, her voice cracking.
She so desperately wanted to turn around and run into his arms, and kiss him with everything in her, but her more pragmatic side kept her grounded to her position. For some reason, her mind still wouldn't allow her to give into him, even though her heart had already. She knew that she was in love with him, that everything was in him, but she couldn't risk getting hurt again. Not again.
The last man she'd seriously let into her heart destroyed it. He was a man that she'd dated seriously for eight years, during undergraduate all the way until the very end of her schooling at Tisch. He was handsome, with striking hazel eyes and skin the color of onyx. He was tall, imposing almost, and they had met during an initial elective course focused on African American studies, and bonded over their hugely stressful project which requires endless research and sleepless nights. Somehow, she'd wound up falling for him quickly, and at the time, she'd thought that he'd be the one to marry her.
But, unfortunately, when she'd turned thirty years old and gone on a trip to Liberia for final rewritings of her play, he'd cheated on her. Not only had he cheated, but the other girl had gotten pregnant with his child. And, this wounded Danai more than anything in the world because while she'd been working so hard for the underprivileged and touring the world with her award written postgraduate project, he'd been sleeping around with other women. The worst part was that the friend was white, and he'd made a point to remind her of such.
'Girls that look like you will never make it in this industry,' he'd told her when they'd broken up. 'You'll always be second fiddle to the white woman, the light woman. I hope you're comfortable there.'
The sounds of that, the scars there were deep, and afterwards, she'd fought so hard to prove him - them - wrong. The wounds were like the battle scars of a child's youth, eventually they may heal, but you'll always remember why they were there. Danai didn't want to admit it, but she too, was damaged by a man. She was made to feel that who she was wasn't enough, and now she felt the trauma of that once more. It made her think of one of her favorite Scorsese films Shutter Island, in which the doctor insists that the main character is traumatized by his own trauma. He said that trauma is derived by the word wound, and that our wounds chase us around like ghosts. Hers definitely did.
"Whoever he was, Danai, I'm not him," Andy said as if reading her mind. "I'll never hurt you."
"That night at comic con...I told you that I was scared, but I never told you why," Danai began, turning back around to face Andy. He was closer now than she recalled, his body still completely exposed to her. "I'm terrified that I did all of this work for nothing, that I'll have no one. And I'm terrified that you're too good. You're not like anyone else I've ever met, and I keep waiting for you to be different, for you to screw up, so that I won't be so gone."
"You don't have to do that," Andy whispers, grasping her face in his large hand, while gripping her hip with the other.
The warmth of him made her shudder. "You should go," she finally said, closing her eyes. "I still want you to settle your shit; I still have to settle mine."
She saw Andy nod solemnly, once again communicating with her without words. He had to go home and rectify the situation with his wife, or he had to fix things with her, therefore ending whatever this was. And Danai, she had to break up with the man that she was currently seeing. She couldn't in good conscience continue to keep him around when she felt absolutely nothing for him, and had only started dating him because she needed a distraction from Andy.
She felt his soft lips against her forehead, before his arms wrapped tightly around her body, which made her feel so safe. Those arms of his, that warmth that he had, that security he brought. He left himself exposed to her, and it made her feel like a valuable possession, a one hundred year old expensive vase at the very top of the shelf, the one that never falls or cracks, and stories are told as generations pass by. That was how he made her feel.
"I'll be waiting," he told her, before he pulled away and walked off to put his clothes on.
You always are, she thought.
:
2 days later, New York City
"Thanks for grabbing lunch with me today, Nate," she greeted the man that she'd been dating for only three months now. He was the man that she was about to break up with, even though she knew that it would crush him.
"It was a bit sudden," Nate replied.
"Yeah, it was," Danai sighed before abruptly stopping in front of him.
She averted her eyes upward toward Nate's. He was tall, nearly six foot four, and brawny in body, timid in disposition. Apart of her would've been serious with him if her heart wasn't taken by Andy, because she wanted something serious - maybe, and she'd dreaded breaking up with him for a solid week now. She knew that it was over once she'd gotten carried away in the van with Andy, but she'd held off.
She never wanted to hurt anyone, especially someone who'd only been kind to her. And it made it harder when Nate's dark brown puppy eyes found hers, and sparkled.
"Look, Nate, this was fun," Danai began, pausing to collect herself. "But I don't think that I can date anyone at the moment, and it would be unfair of me to continue to date you knowing that I don't want anything from this."
Nate just smiled, which confused her all the more. She was breaking up with him, but he was smiling?
"What's so funny?"
"I just expected this," Nate shrugged.
"How did you 'expect' this?"
"I've been competing with Andy since we started this," Nate continued on. "At first I was angry, because I'm the one with you, but you never paid much attention to me, and then I heard you talk to him over the phone one day. You were different, lighter. I just didn't want to break up with you because who breaks up with Danai Gurira?" He questioned her.
"I am sorry," Danai went on. "For everything..."
Nate just nodded. "I know."
:
October 23, 2016; season 7 premiere
A few weeks had passed since Danai had slept with Andy, but also a few weeks had passed since Andy and Danai had truly seen each other or been in each other's presence outside of set. With the passage of time, came the heaviness of feelings, as the both of them were now struggling with going forward in a relationship with each other.
The tension felt almost unbearable, as they seemed to be like two wolves dancing around each other in the wild, desperate to mate. For Danai's part, she'd felt slighted when Andy backed out of obligations simply to avoid her, and even more slighted when his wife had shown up on set, even though he insisted that things were pretty much done with them. Danai had taken it as a betrayal of her trust, for which Andy had struggled with.
And now, she sat in the green room of the premiere of The Talking Dead. It was hard enough to dip her toes back into dealing with Steven's departure from the show, but her back and forth complicated relationship with Andy was only making things worse.
"Danai," she heard his voice, strained and light, which caused her to turn and face him.
"Andrew," she said curtly.
"Danai, I'm sorry, for whatever I did," he continued on.
"You promised me that you would fix things, and then you left for weeks without telling me anything," Danai unloaded. "How am I supposed to feel?"
"You told me to go home!"
"I told you to fix things, not go home for weeks and miss out on an event simply because I would be there," she fired back, not knowing where her anger was coming from. They'd never argued before this moment.
"I went home to fix things, to see my children," Andy explained. "I told you that I love you and I mean it. If you told me right now to divorce, you know I would, but you haven't. All I want -"
" - all you want is your cake and your pie, but you're not going to have both," Danai said. "I'm done."
"Danai, wait!" Andy ran after her, grabbing at her dress, but she pulled away. "Please, Danai, I don't want to lose you."
But Danai remained quiet as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. She didn't look back as she left, even though she knew that the taping for the episode would begin in just fifteen minutes time, she continued to walk off to the side, where she tried to collect herself.
Never had she let someone creep so deeply into her heart, her soul, her essence, her being, but he did. It hurt her deeply when she didn't speak to him for weeks, the ache festered, and the insecurity overflowed, because at the end of the day, she wasn't his and he wasn't hers. It hurt. The pain of this hurt her in ways that she couldn't comprehend, and she didn't know how to carry it.
Her heart felt heavy in her chest. It felt like she was carrying around him within her, and no matter how fast she ran, or how smoothly she dodged him, her heart wouldn't allow him to be too far. He was always right there ready to grasp her, he was always right there ready to hold her, and she wanted him to.
:
2017
Valentine's Day, Danai's birthday
Danai entered her hotel room on the set of Black Panther. It'd been a long day filled with gifts, surprises, and well wishes from various cast members, as well as a sense of family within the cast. Her closest set friend Daniel Kaluuya had even set up balloons around her trailer, which warmed her heart as well as her spirit.
But, after all that socialising and attention focused solely on her, she felt the need to unwind by herself with a glass of wine and a nice book. That's what she expected to do, until she saw a light red envelope fall to the floor, for which she picked up.
She saw Kyle in her trailer once she'd opened the door, every wall in it lined with red roses, flowers and gifts, which made her heart lurch in her chest. Who could've done this? She wondered.
"Do you know who brought all of this stuff?" She asked Kyle, who wore knowing smirk.
"You know who," he said. "Chadwick is serving cake, so I'm gonna get some before it runs out, bye!"
And with that, her trusty, nosey assistant was gone, while she was left to rummage through the gifts. The first few neatly wrapped gifts were from Lupita, the flowers were jointly given to her by all of her friends on the film, but in the very back were nearly five dozen red roses, a case of rare chocolate from Switzerland, four gifts, which all seemed to be from the same person, as they were all messily wrapped in the same golden wrapping paper.
Danai knew immediately who it was from, but she forced herself not to freak out, to remain calm, as she opened the card in her shaky hands.
Dear Danai,
It feels like I'm always saying that I'm sorry to you, and for that I have no excuse. You're special to me, I know this, and nothing will ever excuse the way I've handled this whole thing. I've made a mess of us, and I've hurt you, which I promised that I'd never do. I love you, and I only want the best for you, especially on your birthday. I've given you a few things, that I even wrapped myself, albeit very clumsily, but I did wrap them. Each gift has a message that came straight from my heart, and each is something important to you that I've treasured in my memory.
Happy birthday, Danai. Your name suits you.
On this day I only think of how much love you give me, and how much I love you.
Love, Andy
Overwhelmed with emotion, Danai felt the weight within her body drop towards the floor, along with her body. For so long, she'd fought this feeling inside of her, that nagging, creeping feeling that overfilled her body like water in a jar, and now it had run over. As soon as she read it, it hit her harder than any weight could. She was in love with him.
Fuck, she thought to herself, running her hands across the letter, as her hands traced his loose script. She cherished the words written there, the ones that made her heart race, her skin grow sweaty, her eyes grow tired and weary, and her insides mushy. It was everything, and it was terrifying, because this was not apart of the plan. She wasn't supposed to fall in love with her co-star, much less her married co-star.
Her phone rang, bringing her out of her thoughts, as she struggled to find her voice. "Hey…"
"Sisi, happy birthday!" came the smooth voice of her eldest sister Shigai. "I know it's a bit late in the afternoon, but I got caught up in some meetings. Those damn interns don't know what to do. Anyways, how are you?"
"I'm - I'm okay…," Danai answered, her voice sounded strange to her own ears.
"Danai, you okay? You sound like you're coming down with something," Shingai asked.
"No, no, I'm alright," Danai insisted.
"You aren't alright. I know 'alright,' and I know when you're not, tell me what's going on," Shingai pressed, which caused Danai to sigh.
"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."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Lupita questioned her, coming into the trailer. Her arms immediately encircled Danai in a hug, but when Danai turned around, her face wasn't one of anguish, but joy. Pure unadulterated joy.
"I'm okay," Danai insisted, nodding her head happily. "More than okay. Now help me open the rest of these gifts."
"But Chadwick is gonna eat all the cake, girl! You know that man eats like a bear. They call him a panther but -"
" - Lupita," Danai pressed.
"Girl, fine, but I'm stealing those Swiss chocolates," Lupita smirked.
"You bitch!" Danai giggled, eagerly opening the rest of the gifts.
Once the dust settled over her cloudy, murky heart, she felt it. The unconditional love and happiness, and from that moment on, she decided that all she wanted to feel was happy; all she wanted was to be happy with him. And she would be.
:
Later that evening when Danai arrived to her apartment, she immediately noticed the door was slightly opened, which startled her. The last thing she wanted to do after a late dinner with friends was have to call the police after a burglary, but then she heard it. The smooth voice of Etta James' At Last could be heard playing softly, it permeated the apartment, and filled her ears like a porous gas. She couldn't help but let it fill her, the words consume her.
In the darkness, she let the words reach the deepest parts of her heart, and discover new depths of love that she hadn't thought possible.
At last my love has come along
My lonely days are over
"Andy?" She yelled out, knowing immediately that he was there, somewhere.
It was like her body was a magnet, and his was the other side of it, and they were being pulled together by some unseen force of nature. She just knew it in her heart, in her soul that he was somewhere in her apartment waiting for her, and at that moment, all she wanted was him.
"Andy?" She called out once more, pausing to wait.
Like an eager child on Christmas morning, she turned on every light of the house, and checked every room, until finally she found him sitting in her bedroom. He gave her an apprehensive smile as she rushed towards him and wrapped her arms around him, crushing him with the weight of her. When he lifted her up and stood with her in his arms, she suddenly realized it. It was true, she loved him.
She more than loved him; she was in love. Even more than that, she was happy, and safe, and cherished, and content. There was nowhere else she wanted to be, there was no one else she wanted to spend her birthday with.
"How did you get here? Why are you here?" She asked him through happy tears.
"I had some ADR to do, so I came," he admitted. "You should lock your door."
"Bad habit," Danai giggled.
"I could've been a stalker," Andy teased further. "I could've been anyone."
"But you're not just anyone, you're you," Danai offered with gleeful smile as she wrapped her arms around him. "I missed you. I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry," he told her. "I was so eager for there to be an us that I didn't consider you or your feelings. I was so mad that I pushed you away. I wanted you so much that I couldn't see your pain. I hurt you, and I'm sorry."
"I know, I read your letter," Danai admitted.
"And?"
"And...and I love you too," Danai told him.
Her words came tumbling down, unable to stop, sort of like a large rock falling down a mountain. But once they were out, she felt so much relief. It was like suddenly everything made sense. Advanced calculus made sense, molecular biology made sense, advanced chemistry made sense. Her mind was suddenly clear of everything but him. But those crystal clear blue eyes that shone with adoration and love for her.
"We should dance," he suddenly said, pulling her up, as she giggled and shook her head.
"Dance? Right now? I don't know, I -"
"C'mon, darling, we're not getting any younger…," he lifted her up and pressed her close to his body. "Nobody puts Danai in a corner."
"You did not just quote Dirty Dancing to me as if that'll change my mind," she told him, but found her arms encircling his waist, her eyes glimmering with fresh tears.
He held out his hand. "Dance with me."
She released a deep breath, grabbing his large hand within her own. "Okay."
And then the spell was cast
And here we are in heaven
For you are mine
At Last
His clumsy steps bounded around her small bedroom, as the soft sounds of the song faded into nothing, and all they were left was each other. Finally, Danai could study his face in the darkened room, the only flecks of light coming from the window just outside. She remembered her words at comic con, about his beauty. He was beautiful on the outside, but his insides shone with vibrant colors. He was so unfailingly good, even with his flaws, and that was what she saw when she looked at him. Here, in his arms, while he danced off beat to old classical songs, did she realize that even if this were to end, she'd never be able to get over him.
She'd never be able to find another him; someone who was so imperfectly perfect for her. Someone who completed her. Someone she felt was good enough for her.
After a touch too many awkwardly hip swings, Danai stopped him by grabbing at his strong arms. "You are an awful dancer."
"I'm not that bad, Danai," he responded with a long laugh.
She simply stared at him.
"Okay, I'm terrible," he pouted. "I'm really trying here."
"I know you are," she said softly, still staring up at him in reverence, her eyes tracing his face as if it were her hands.
She remembered every line, every wrinkle, every inch of that face, and as her eyes landed on those pouty pink lips of his, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him. I'm fact, that's all she wanted to do right now. So she did. She pressed her lips against his, so soft that he barely felt it, and then more insistent. In her kiss, she conveyed her deep feelings for him; in her kiss, she told him she loved him. And tonight, she'd show him.
She removed his white shirt, that hugged his body like a second skin, and then she pushed him back on the bed.
"Danai, I'll -"
He tried to say before she shushed him with a finger to those pouty lips of his, which were a bit swollen now. "Let me take care of you for once."
Once she said this, his body immediately went loose like jelly, as his body fell backwards on the bed. Danai made quick work of his shoes, and pants, but hesitated when she saw his hard member through his boxer shorts. She knew that he'd already been inside of her, that they'd already been together intimately, but the sight of him like this was surreal to her. And, in the brief moment that she stared him down, it appeared as though he somehow grew harder.
She gulped, before slowly stripping his boxer shorts off. Her fingertips scraped across his smooth, thick thighs, until his boxers were wrapped around his ankles. And for one long moment, she just stared at it, her insides becoming warm and flushed and hungry. Her only thought was that she wanted to give him the pleasure that he gave her.
She heard him gasp as her tongue made contact once again with his thighs, until she was face to face with his thick, throbbing cock. All she could do was grab him, and kiss the tip. And then kiss it some more, as if she were performing an intricate dance. His body grew even more slumped against the bed as his moans grew louder and louder, slipping into animalistic growls and grunts.
"You're just how I dreamt…," she heard him breathe out, as he delicately stroked her face. "I'm not sure if you're real."
She let him go immediately, and climbed atop him. "I'm real, I am."
"Show me," he insisted.
And so she did, as she sunk atop him.
:
Sometime around three in the morning, Danai awoke abruptly, and reached for Andy. When she looked up, she saw that he was already awake, as if he knew or read her mind.
"Can't sleep?" He questioned her.
"No," she admitted.
"Well, let's talk," he said, cuddling her close. His curls were rumpled so adorably, and she couldn't help but ruffle them back into place. She heard him purr like a content bitten, before resting his head on her chest. "You never told me who hurt you."
"I don't know if you want this story," Danai admitted. "It's not exactly good manners to talk about ex boyfriend's after the first date…"
Andy just smirked. "It's a good thing this isn't the first date," he joked, reaching down to grasp her fingers in his own. "I want to know everything about you, even the parts that aren't nice."
"Well, he was a man I dated on and off in college for eight years," Danai began. "I loved him more than anything. I was going to marry him after I finished Tisch, but he cheated on me. It's why I've been so hesitant about this whole thing. I know how that can hurt someone, because it hurt me."
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize -"
" - No, don't apologize. I'm here with you now because I want to be. Nobody forced your dick in my mouth," Danai quipped, which made Andy's eyes glaze over. She felt his hardness press against her back. "Already!? We just did it five minutes ago."
She felt him roll her over, his eyes alight from within as if she were the sun, as a large smile spread across his pretty face. It was a moment of pure contentment for her, being underneath him, being loved, being cherished. It'd been so long that she'd felt the simple warmth of another person envelop her that she'd forgotten what it was like to be with someone in this way.
In his eyes, she saw all of the love he had for her; and, as silly as it sounded, or felt, she believed it. She believed every word his mouth spoke, she believed everything he made her feel, and in the here and now, that was all she wanted.
His hands went down to tickle her belly, as well as her underarms, before attacking her entire body. Her laughter overtook her, as tears sprang to her eyes. "Stop!" She giggled, overwhelmed by his strength. "I'm ticklish!"
"Even better," he said, before a devious smirk overtook his face. The playful mood grew heated when she saw those messy curls descend downward until he was at the apex of her thighs. "Darling, can I have a taste?"
"You can have whatever you want," she breathed out, before she felt his deft tongue go to work.
She'd never been so happy.