Distractions
I know he has every right - I have given him every right - but it doesn't happen very often and to be honest, it hurts. I am trying to will my always-boiling-at-the-surface blush away but fail horribly, and the pair of beautiful blue green eyes that I know has been following me closely for the past hour makes the embarrassment ten times worse.
I am positively fucking up my lines today and driving Lexi into a fit of something I really don't want to witness or be the cause of any longer. To make the whole situation distinctly worse, my beautiful director wants me angry and it simply isn't there. No matter how hard the professional in me searches for anything that might trigger the requested emotion, there is not a shred of fury to be found within me, and the frequency with which she keeps rolling her eyes take after take, has started to worry me.
"Just one more, and let's try to get at least the lines right," the AD sighs, loud enough for every person on set to hear. I shrink to minimal proportions despite the numerous layers of clothing I am wearing, probably trying to make me look a lot more physically impressive than I actually am.
I take a deep breath, begging the gods-of-celluloid, or anyone else who cares to listen, to make me play the scene well enough to get it over with, and in that brief moment of vulnerability I allow my eyes to flicker to the reason for my failure. It lasts shorter than a heartbeat, shorter than the sharp intake of my breath, but it is more than enough and I am lost again, and the tiny bit of concentration I had dug up from the dungeons of my soul after Charlie's stinging laughter, slips mercilessly through my fingers.
As a result, I fuck up once more and start laughing myself now, not because I am amused, but because I definitely need to cover up the truth. Which is the fact that I might as well stop filming today, being so completely out of touch with myself that all I really feel like doing is to curl up in the darkest corner I can find and close my eyes and drift off on the cotton-candy clouds that have mysteriously replaced my brain.
There are the all-too-familiar butterflies in my stomach that have forced my stupid giggle and its biggest friend, a deep crimson blush, to make themselves known more often in the last five days than they have in the past six months. There is the noticeable fact that I have more or less stopped eating, whereas only last week I was still dubbed a bottomless pit by the lovely Jane who caters for this film's cast and crew. And I don't even want to go into the fact that the slightest memory of her dazzling smile or the merest hint of her perfume in the air sets me off like a fifteen-year-old, begging with wardrobe to allow me to wear the looser pair of jeans in order not to show too much, but then secretly relishing the friction in the tight ones when they, for obvious reasons of continuity, refuse.
Like this very minute, when all I want to do is run off and be somewhere quiet, so that I can close my eyes and feel the things that are inside me. As pathetic as I know it is, I just cannot stop my seemingly permanent need to re-live every last sensation that courses through my body when I think of her teasing little breaths on my nipples, or my hands roughly squeezing the smooth flesh of her generous ass, or her rhythmic moans when I slide in and out of her, or the way we can make each other come like freight trains colliding on a single track.
I mumble a stupid, unintelligible excuse and walk away from the set fast, desperate for some form of solitude, as both tears and the need for an orgasm consume me. With Charlie's renewed laughter ringing in my ears, I walk into the large trailer where Make-up and Wardrobe have set up shop, and almost blindly find my way into its tiny bathroom. I shut the door, fall against it and try to breathe.
Breathe, dammit.
But the world's spinning out of control and I wince when I realise I just made a complete fool of myself. I know Charlie knows why and a furious shade of red starts to grace my cheeks again, and, finally angry, I yank my jeans open and go in search of the only form of release available to me now, deciding I will cope with his abuse later.
I sag sideways, watching my flushed face move out of the mirror's reflection, closing my eyes, and I start touching myself. I experience a brief flash of guilt over the number of times I have jacked off during the past few days, considering the fact I am also getting more than enough of the real thing, but quickly abandon the thought and stroke myself impatiently, completely lost in the fierce need to feel an orgasm crash through my body.
I don't hear the door open and I don't register anyone stepping inside the small bathroom, but suddenly my hand is pulled away and replaced by scorching hot wetness and my eyes fly wide open.
She followed me, it vaguely crosses my mind. She saw what happened and followed me in here. She raises her head, and we both scramble to our feet, forgetting just where we are, just watching each other's eyes. I feel her press my body against the wall, feel her hands on me everywhere, and when the scorching wetness finds its way to my mouth I push my tongue in greedily and grab her ass, pulling us roughly together, searching for friction while dragging her up on her toes.
When the most urgent waves of our craving have been satisfied I unlock our mouths and take a real good look at her. I keep my lips close to hers and stroke her hips and the small of her back, both breathing hard against each other. "You," I grunt, pressing small kisses against the corner of her mouth. "Make," I lick her ear. "My life," I trail wetly down her neck with the flat of my tongue. "Completely impossible," and I suck the rosy-flushed flesh between her breasts.
"I know," she giggles, and I thank the one who was apparently listening to my prayers when her hand travels downward again, fumbling to get inside my jeans once more, finally encircling my cock, causing me to grunt unintelligibly. "I saw," she adds.
I groan some more, not sure if it is caused by the memory and certain prospect of Charlie's laughter, or the perfect pressure with which she playfully squeezes the head of my cock and dips a finger lightly into its weeping slit.
"Are you angry with me?" she asks, all husky and smiles, weaving her free hand into my hair, running her nails over my head. I flick the top button of her black shirt through its hole and lick my way inside, causing her to stop her addictive scratching of my scalp.
"Yeah," I mumble, completely unwilling to lift my lips from her nipple. "Very angry," and then I bite down gently, making her squeak delightfully. "I made a complete fool of myself." She giggles some more, then nudges me upright. She turns me around and pulls my back determinedly against her breasts, wrapping one arm protectively around my stomach, nuzzling against my neck, whispering she will make it up to me. Her other hand reaches inside my boxers once more and we're quiet now, apart from my moans and increasingly heavy breathing.
While the rhythm she by now knows I would kill for carries me closer and closer to release, I sense how the arm around my waist lifts and how her hand creeps underneath my t-shirt. She starts caressing my stomach in tiny circles, feather light strokes, making me arch my back into her touch and groan loudly. I must be an open book to her, because she knows exactly how to get me off.
When I open my mouth to beg for her to finish me, to increase the pressure and walk the tightrope between pleasure and pain for me, she does exactly that and I brace myself for the end, shuddering when I feel how my balls finally draw up, only seconds away from my orgasm.
A loud knock on the door and a calling of my name crashes through the focused fever in my body and disrupts the imminent blackout in my brain, but it is too late, there's no holding back anymore, and as I try to block out Charlie's voice calling my name again, I come violently, sinking to my knees, back against the door, screwing my eyes shut and releasing my load across my hand and the floor. Alone.
"Elijah!" Charlie's voice calls out a third time and I know I should respond. There are too many bald-headed, beer-guzzling, brawl-causing giants of men around on this particular set who will surely not bat an eyelid when Charlie asks them to take the door out. And I really don't want either of them to find me reduced to my very essence on the floor of this tiny bathroom.
I'm met by both Charlie and Lexi as soon as I walk back to the soundstage. "You okay?" Charlie immediately wants to know and looks at me with actual worry. The abuse over what just expired doesn't come and I am secretly relieved, really not sure of how I would react now that I am nothing but a twitching mass of nerve endings. "You want to call it a day?" Lexi asks and gives me a strange look. "You don't look too well."
I start patting my pockets, craving a post-orgasm cigarette, and as soon as my trembling hands have fumbled a clove from the packet I light up with too much ease. I shake my head, exhaling, very aware of the blue green eyes that are still boring holes in my back. I know she is there, standing outside the range of the stage lights, probably making small talk with some of the techs or the press rep who does her daily best to keep the many fans - my fans, can you believe it - at a bit of a distance.
"No, I will be fine," I mutter and push my smokes and lighter into my jeans pocket. "Just let me finish this and I'll get the fucking scene over with." I lean against one of the parked cars in the street we're filmimg in and stare at my shoes, smoking the cigarette as if it were providing oxygen. This time I know better than to look around and search for her eyes again, because I need to get out of this mess by finally doing the scene properly.
I'm in a chair in make up and the pancake has just been removed. This time, the hands I feel on my shoulders are real, and I close my eyes briefly, letting my head fall back, resting it against her warm body. I enjoy her hands working the knots out of my neck, quietly thinking about just what the fuck was wrong with me today.
Charlie had not brought the thing up again when we were just in here together, and when he left the trailer himself a few minutes ago, he just looked at me and smiled. "You gonna be okay?" he had asked and all I could do was nod weakly and smile back. He had left and so had the make up artist and now people are probably waiting for me to emerge as well so they can close up.
But not yet. Because after they had gone, she came in.
"I won't do this again, Lij," I suddenly hear her voice, soft and apologetic. She bends her head and brings her mouth close to my ear, and I watch how her long, loose hair falls around her face. I control the urge to brush it away. "I'm sorry, I really am..." she says and kisses the soft spot behind my ear and I close my eyes again, sighing deeply.
"I just never realised you felt this way," she breathes against my neck and when I hear her say that, so softly, still with such guilt in her voice, I cringe inwardly and feel like a fucking kid.
"Don't apologise," I mutter after I have cleared my throat. "I am the idiot here, it's not your fault." She giggles softly and I can't help but smile as well, sensing the ridiculousness of the whole situation. I swirl the chair around and pull her onto my lap, her legs dangling to one side, her upper body against my chest.
"Come here," I whisper and cup her jaw, moving her face close to my own, and I kiss her, soft and smooth at first, before it becomes wet and dirty. She moans and locks both her hands around my neck to steady herself.
"Oh, Lijah," she mutters through the kiss, squirming in my lap, making me very hard and very horny. "God, I want you, I want you so much," she's barely able to get the words out, with her need to keep our lips and tongues together, and her audible little gasps when I slip my hand under her skirt, searching for the warmth between her legs.
She parts her thighs slightly for me, giving me just enough access to let my thumb and index do their usual exploring. With a start I realise she isn't wearing any underwear and I give her my most surprised look. "Thought I could pull it off for a change," she grins, referring to the moments when I had not bothered with wearing boxers underneath my jeans. I grin and mouth 'naughty' and she laughs.
Suddenly, I realise she has been on the set all day wearing nothing but a tight top and a skirt, and I thank the gods-of-celluloid for not letting me in on the fact that the latter was constantly rasping against the soft skin of her bare ass, because I don't think I would have survived the image.
I drag my mind back to the present and quickly find her clit, already moist and swollen and press my thumb against it, giving her the tiny circular rubs she craves so much. She wheezes a 'yes' between gritted teeth and spreads her legs wider.
"I've got an idea," I groan after a while and nudge her around. "Face me." She looks at me and smiles mischievously. I bunch her skirt up a bit and she turns around in the chair, one leg on either side of me. She bends her knees in the wide chair and aligns them with my thighs. Then I let the skirt drop and it collects around her tighs and in my lap. Her eyes are shining with excitement when she pushes the front of her skirt away to find and then help me unbutton the jeans I never changed out off after filming, and she looks up at me while our hands continue their fumbling.
"You'd better not come on these, baby," she giggles and kisses me quickly. "That would be a bitch to explain tomorrow." I smirk and finish freeing my cock, so hard again that I could cry with the mere anticipation of release. "I don't know exactly what you're doing to me," I tell her, breathing hard and irregular. "But this is the third time I am going to come today." She raises her eyebrows and her giggle turns into the most beautiful smile I have ever seen on her face. She cups my chin and kisses me softly.
"You're doing exactly the same to me," is all she says.
"Shit," I then groan. "When the fuck am I going to learn how to time these things?!" Just when I start to feel around for a wallet that most certainly is not kept in a pair of Wardrobe jeans, she pulls a condom out of her handbag that is lying on the counter behind my back. She kisses my nose and simultaneously tears at the foil, ripping the packet open and scooting back a little bit to make some room to roll it on me.
"Oh, Christ," is all that my overloaded brain is capable of producing and I slide my impatient hands under her skirt again, grabbing her hips and pulling her towards me. "Come on," I grunt, chest heaving now with the breaths that are struggling to leave my lungs. "Fuck me like this. Fuck me. Please." I steady my cock for her and, wet as she is, she doesn't need any guidance to quickly enfold me with her heat in one long, blinding movement, almost making me come on the spot. Fortunately, she has the presence of mind not to move after she has made sure I am all the way in, and we just sit still for a few breaths, watching each other, waiting for the biggest waves to subside.
"Hey," she suddenly says, gazing past my ear. "Can you swing the chair around again? Just a bit?" I look at her and offer my most confused stare, but find some purchase on the floor and turn the chair halfway back to its original position, almost facing the mirror.
Erm... Right.
Mirror.
My fuzzy brain logs on again.
"You're fucking brilliant," I giggle and nudge her hips up a bit, confident enough that I won't embarrass myself any longer by coming on the first few strokes. She moves up, pushing up from the seat of the chair and comes down again, slowly, teasing, smiling at me.
"Good?" she whispers against my forehead, her tongue softly lapping up the faint traces of sweat that must already be there. I can only moan, having given up on communication the moment her ass reconnected with my lap. "Good," she giggles and lifts her hips once more.
The fact that I can't see what's happening, makes me all the more sensitive to her body touching mine, and when I drop my head sideways against the back of the chair, I am confronted with our reflection and, even though I didn't think it was possible, I harden even more.
"Look at us," I whisper hoarsely and she twists her head around, taking in the incredible hotness of the picture we're painting. Now it is her turn to moan and I groan when I feel how her body tightens around my aching cock.
We manage a few more slow strokes, but then the pace quickens notably and the teasing is over. At least for now. Her movements are smooth and rhythmic and I remove my hands from around her hips, as they are no longer necessary there. In turn I grab her ass and squeeze it repeatedly in time with the motion, relishing the feel of oddly cool skin against my warm, sweaty palms.
"Will you come?" I ask in between thrusts and watch how she slightly tilts her head and arches her back, offering me the sight of her breasts and hardened nipples under the tight top she's wearing today. She opens her eyes and looks at my reflection in the mirror. "Think so," she breathes and smiles.
"Good," I pant and bring my hands back to her hips again, helping her move, subtly trying to speed things up even more. By now grunting in unison every time our bodies meet, I throw a glance over her shoulder and see the beautiful movements of her body and suddenly I know what would tip me completely over the edge.
I slide my hands from underneath her skirt and fold them briefly around the small of her back, then let my fingers crawl down, searching quietly for the hem of her skirt. It flutters somewhere around my knees and I grab it, bunching it up in my hands, lifting it slowly. She inhales sharply and pushes her nose against my neck, urging me to continue, as she doubtlessly feels the cold air on her exposed flesh. When I brush my hands across the cool skin of her ass and I see its beautiful plump paleness and my own kneading hands on it reflected in the mirror, I climax hard, forcefully pulling her body close to my own. I cry out with each orgasmic wave that racks my body, and when she presses her soft lips against my cheek, and I feel her body spasm against mine, I briefly wonder if my arms are holding everything I ever dreamed of.
It's dark outside and we have left the tiny restaurant where we tried to have dinner almost an hour ago. I didn't eat much, and neither did she, but it was a warm, cosy place with good wine and good music and only after I had finished the very last cigarette I had on me, did we decide to pay the bill and get some air.
We are walking along the river and I have closed my hand over hers, just to make sure she is still real and not some figment of my imagination that will disappear into thin air at twelve o'clock sharp. We don't talk anymore, having done so exhaustively at dinner, but instead we just listen to the sounds of the city settling down for the night.
It has been in my line of sight for a while now, but with each step the enormous thing gets bigger and bigger and the moment we are facing it from across the river, I stop and turn to look at it more closely.
"The Eye," she announces, and smiles. "Didn't you explore this quaint little town at all during the past few weeks?"
I grin, but don't take my eyes off the enormous steel construction that is towering high above the water, basking in its almost artistic illumination.
"I have seen it," I start. "How could you miss it?" I pull her closer and press her back against me, crossing my arms over her stomach and resting my chin on her shoulder. We both stare at the reflection of the many lights in the water and I give her ear a playful little lick. "It's just that I think it's beautiful at night, with the lights and everything."
"You're right, it is beautiful," she whispers back and I feel how her body relaxes against mine. "Ever been on it?" she continues and twists her head to the side so that we can look at each other. Her hands have closed over my arms and before I can answer she gives me a quick kiss, smiling. I kiss her back, just as teasing and quick, and then shake my head.
"We should do it someday, you know," she giggles and squeezes my arm. "The view is breathtaking." We both look at the wheel again, contemplating. "Maybe," I end up saying. "I have developed this strange reluctance when it comes to dealing with large, singular eyes."
She breaks into a fit of giggles and turns around in my embrace. "You," she jabs a finger at my chest and stares straight into my eyes. "Are such a," and kisses me with a lot more strength than I expected. "Total geek," she breathes when she finally lets go of my lips. "Will you ever be rid of that film?"
I laugh and shake my head slightly, suddenly feeling a pang of nostalgia in my heart. Images of New Zealand cross my mind, and Dom's face, and then home and Mom and Hannah, and I just grab her a bit harder and rest my cheek on her shoulder, facing away from her.
"Homesick?" she asks softly, without breaking our embrace. I just nod, and I feel how her hands start stroking my back. "That's okay," she whispers. "Your home must be a nice one then." I silently agree with her on that.
I am quiet for a long time, and so is she, for which I am grateful, because all of a sudden I need a bit of time to ground myself and get rid of the funk that threatens to take over. She hasn't stopped stroking my back and I haven't stopped watching the water of the broad river flow past and she is breathing in time with me and very slowly I calm down again.
"How long since you've been home?" she asks, and I feel her lips move against my neck. "Almost five weeks," I say, but it feels like so much longer. She stops stroking me, just holds me tight.
"Do you want to call it a night?" she then says, her voice gentle. "I can get us a cab and drop you off at your hotel." I lift my head from her shoulder and look at her for the first time in maybe ten minutes. "Is that what you want?" I ask, because I can understand she doesn't want to be stuck with a kid who misses his Mommy.
"No," she says and smiles at me. "But maybe it is what you want. Maybe you need some time for yourself." Her smile is soft and encouraging, as if to tell me she wouldn't be offended if I stood her up. Which, of course, is out of the question, since the last thing I want right now is to be alone. More importantly, I don't want to hurt this woman, it is simply out of the question, and so I shake my head.
"Would you like to come to my place then?" she continues, and I am sure I can see a little sparkle of relief in her eyes. "A real, lived in, messy, very female home?" She unlocks the embrace and grabs both my hands in hers. "It's not far, I have some nice bottles lying around and..." she looks at me with that beautiful smile of hers playing around her lips. "If you want to just talk, I would love that. Maybe you can tell me some more about home? And if you want something else... Well... We both know that's not a problem, right?"
I haven't felt this good in a very long time. Don't get me wrong, the past five days have been nothing short of heaven, but this is definitely the best night of them all. As soon as we had entered her house, she said I needed something to take my mind of things, and then she proceeded to open another bottle of wine - I am quite there, thankyouverymuch, run a gigantic bath in her dimly-lit, scented bathroom where I nearly fell asleep and almost drowned in the process, and finally ordered me to lie face down and naked on her bed, so she could, as she called it, 'work her wonders'.
So, for the past fifteen minutes I have been enjoying the best massage I have had in ages, moaning every now and then when she hits on a particularly good spot, breathing in the heady scent of the oil she is using, and surprising even myself by growing hard once more.
She notices my squirming and giggles. "You really are insatiable, aren't you?" she teases, and nudges me to turn over. I am flat on my back and she murmurs something I don't understand, but when I see her shiny, oil-slick hands move towards my stomach and possibly further down to my cock which is jutting out proudly, I close my eyes and let out a shuddery breath, knowing exactly where this is going.
Her hands have started massaging my thighs this time, and she is very carefully stearing clear of the area where I want them the most. I hear her chuckle a bit when I let out a small grunt of frustration.
"You want me to beg for it?" I ask and open my eyes. "Because I will." She grins some more and slicks her hands up my thighs one final time, lowering her head, blowing her warm breath over the bundle of nerves in the tip of my cock, causing it to instantly leak an almost embarrassing amount of precum onto my stomach.
"Fuck," I breathe and lift my head, looking into her eyes. "Put your mouth on me, please." I am begging now, struggling to get the words out. "Just suck me...."
Her tongue breaks the sticky little thread that connects the slit of my by now heavily throbbing cock to my stomach, and she starts suckling me, making me groan, making me ooze even more. I lift my hips of the bed and beg for some serious suction, but all she does is lick and suckle and tease. When she brings a hand up to cup and fondle my balls, I decide I have had enough and I abruptly sit upright.
"On your back," I say and it comes out harsher than I intended. She obeys immediately, though, and I take in the beautiful sight of her naked body, only illuminated by one single lamp in the corner of the bedroom. I crawl in between her legs and hover over her, resting my hands on both sides of her head, and dipping down to suck her nipples or bruise her lips with a hungry kiss.
"Hands," I am begging again. "Feel me..." and I feel her hands rounding the curve of my ass, see how she closes her eyes and hear how her breathing becomes laboured. "Stroke me," I add, picturing her slender fingers around my cock, almost wishing her to get me off like that. When she gives me what I am aching for, when I feel her hand almost pumping me to blissful completion, the remaining bit of my feeble restraint disappears into thin air.
I want to fuck her. Now.
"On the nightstand," she mutters, mind-reading again, while she continues to squirm under my hands and lips, never stopping her excruciating rhythm on my weeping cock. I break my lips away from her neck to look at the nightstand, curious as to what she might be talking about, and see another little foil-wrapped package. I pick it up and put it in between my teeth, ripping it open. I am glad one of us is still using their brain.
One shove is all it takes. I pull her body closer and sit up slightly, grabbing her legs and lifting them over my shoulders. "Best angle," I mutter, mostly to myself, and start thrusting up, holding still at the end of every stroke, before slick-sliding out of her and starting all over again. I try to stop it, but pretty soon the urge to speed up is outdoing my need to prove my stamina
"Please," I breathe. "I promise I'll make it up to you..." And she looks at me in wonder, squeezing her internal muscles tight around my tortured cock. "I need to come..." My voice catches and it briefly flickers through my brain that I must sound really pathetic, but somehow I just don't care. "Please," I beg. "Please let me come..."
She bucks up two, three, maybe four times to meet my desperate strokes and then everything goes blank. I arch my back and throw my head back and spurt forcefully against the latex, ripping harsh cries from my lungs with each and every convulsion, leaving me breathless and boneless in her arms.
She brushes the sweaty hair from my forehead and kisses me there, softly licking the beads away. "You are so beautiful," she whispers close to my ear, and I know she feels my smiling lips against her neck. I am too tired to move just yet. "So beautiful..." She rocks me gently in her embrace, giving my heart the time it needs to stop hammering and my breathing to calm down.
"And I do know you will make this good for me in a minute or two..." She continues and chuckles softly, cradling me some more, stroking the skin between my shoulder blades.
"But?" I venture, because somehow I know there is one coming.
"Was it really impossible to hang on a little longer and wait for me?" The smile that graces her pretty face tells me she is teasing me, but I do feel kind of guilty.
"Well..." I start and lift my head so I can properly look into her gorgeous blue green eyes, kissing her pink lips, flashing her my cheekiest grin.
"You know you distract me."
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