by Dark Angel
“You don’t know that. She was being nice. Even brought me flowers.”
“Yeah, of course...She was only being nice. And I’m the Queen of England; bow before me, peasant!” She cries out, jumping up to her feet as she looks at me with a dramatic expression.
“C’mon, she even gave me —”
“What, a tip? In case you didn’t notice, she was only telling you not to step on her toes or she’d rip your head off.” She shrugs casually, and then sits back down. “At least that’s what I heard.”
“Well ...even if you’re right. I’m not here to get into a catfight with Alberta. I’m a professional, and I’m here to work.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” she sighs, and the tone of her voice sends a shiver up my spine. Am I already on a collision course with Alberta, someone who's one of the best-paid actresses in TV?
I’m just a nobody.
Sasha
“So, is everyone ready?” Ryan asks us. His eyes roam over the script in his hands, but then he raises them and looks around the table. Everyone nods at once and I just follow suit, looking down at the script in front of me even though I already know every single line by heart.
Ever since I put my name over the dotted line on the contract, I’ve been a nervous wreck. I’m constantly plagued by feelings of insecurity (what if I suck? What if viewers hate my character?), and I’ve decided to counter that by working like a woman possessed. Maybe I went a little overboard with it, though. I even memorized the lines of every single character in this scene, which means that my mind is completely flooded with words. Still, I don't want to mess up my delivery by jumping in too early or too late, and so I decided to know the whole scene from the inside out.
“Alright, let’s give it a go then,” Ryan says, waving one hand around the table as our cue to begin. We’re doing a table read today, which means we’re more or less just reading the lines while staying in character. It’s basically foreplay, really; something to warm us up and iron out the kinks before we move onto the main event, the one happening while the cameras roll.
“Fuck, I need a drink…” Kane whispers softly, running one hand through his hair as he leans back against his seat. His voice is fraught with tension, as if he’s under pressure; it truly feels as if his soul has left his body, and his character took the reigns. Now that’s acting. And he hasn’t opened his script which means that, just like me, he also knows his lines by heart.
“Go easy on the drink, okay?” Jasmine starts, whispering as if she’s afraid someone might overhear her. She and Stefan, the dark-haired guy sitting next to her, play a set of twins that basically represent the loyalists to Kane’s character. While his character is surrounded from all sides by backstabbers, these two are his constant backup and occasional comic relief.
“Yeah…” Stefan agrees, nodding. “There are a lot of eyeballs on you right now.”
“I know that,” he replies, and I feel my heart quickening its pace as he looks at me. That’s what the script says he should be doing, but his presence is so natural that I almost believe we’re actually in a cocktail party right now.
“Here,” I say after waiting for a few seconds. Supposedly, my character is handing Kane a drink, but I just look at him as I continue to speak. “You look like you need a drink.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice heavy. “But a drink isn’t the only thing I need.” Right now, his eyes seem to be burning with lust, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up.
“Then why don’t you take it? You’re the kind of man that takes what he wants, aren’t you?” I tease him, carefully purring my words.
“It’s wrong…” He continues, this time lowering his gaze and leaning back. “It’s fucking wrong,” he repeats, balling one hand into a fist.
“Maybe that’s why it feels so right…” I reply, lowering my voice so much that it actually feels as if I’m whispering these words into his ear. I’m about to move on to my next line when Alberta’s voice explodes in the silence of the room.
“Isn’t that too over the top?” She asks out of the blue, raising her voice high enough to break all the tension we’ve just built. Everybody seems to slump over the desk and, just like that, the spell is broken; everyone’s out of character, and the moment has been ruined. “I mean, I don’t want to direct you guys...But I felt that was a bit too much,” she continues with a shrug, drumming her fingers against the table.
“You just ruined the scene,” Kane tells her with a frustrated sigh, looking at Alberta with an annoyed expression. “It was working.”
“It didn’t feel like it was working to me. Sasha’s definitely overacting,” she shoots back at Kane, and I feel myself shrink in my seat. My first scene, and I’m already being accused of overacting? “Don’t feel bad. You’re still inexperienced,” she then adds, looking at me as if I were as important as a fly on the wall. She can act, yeah, but she also has a gift for making people feel uncomfortable.
“I was just doing what’s on the script,” I try to defend myself, but Alberta doesn’t even seem to be listening to me. She just moves her gaze away from me and looks at Ryan, almost as if she expects him to agree with her. Luckily for me, he just remains silent, watching the scene and waiting to see how the rest of the table reacts.
“Come on, guys. You don’t need to be nice to Sasha just because she’s new. I’m fairly sure she can take the criticism and, besides —”
“That's uncalled for, Alberta” Jasmine suddenly pitches, her voice stern and confident. Unlike most of the production staff, she doesn’t seem to give a damn about how much of a star Alberta is. And Alberta can’t ignore her just like she did to me; after all, Jasmine is one of the most beloved members of the cast. “Sasha was doing great.”
“I don’t agree,” Alberta insists, looking around the room as if she’s begging for someone else to speak up and back her. Everyone just looks down, though, allowing a somber silence to take over the room. “Okay, whatever. You guys do it however you like. I was just giving my opinion,” she finishes, acting like a misunderstood genius.
“Alright, alright...Let’s just take a break,” Ryan pitches in and, almost at once, every single person in the room gets up and starts ambling toward the door.
Sasha
Anxious to tell Laurel about what just happened during the table read, I make a beeline straight toward my dressing room.
“You won’t believe what just —” I start to say, but then I trail off as I realize that Laurel isn’t inside the room. In her place, there’s a handwritten note resting on the table. Babe, the note reads, I’m off to try and meet some producers. Preferably some hot ones. Anyway, I want to get your name out there and pitch some ideas. Soon enough you’ll be a star! Keep your chin up. P.S: Text me if you need me.
“Jesus, already?” I whisper to myself, folding the note in half and shoving it inside my purse. I haven’t even shot a single scene for Manhattan Reign, and Laurel has already been pestering me about trying out for a feature movie. According to her, the TV show leaves some free space on my schedule, and she wants to squeeze every single ounce of that time and strike while the iron's still hot. Well, I guess I can’t blame her for looking after me, huh? Besides, I know she’s been trying to sell a script of her own for ages now, and she’s excited about meeting all these producers.
For a second, I consider texting her and telling her about what happened with Alberta in the conference room, but then I decide to just tell her once we’re back home. After all, what I really need now is to sit in silence and unwind.
Most people assume that acting is an easy job, but it isn’t as easy as one might think. People expect you to get in and out of character on demand, and I believe that some directors even believe that actors have some kind of act-in-character switch inside their heads. I don’t have one of those switches, in case you’re wondering.
That, in a weird way, means that I’m half-myself, half-Katya. And after the tension Kane and I built during our
little scene, both halves of me are definitely turned on. In fact, I was already starting to feel uncomfortable during the table read; as I started reading my lines, looking straight into Kane’s eyes, my pussy started growing wet and my thong became drenched fast. It was so drenched that I was starting to feel worried about it; what if that wetness seeped through my thong and stained my dress? Yeah, Alberta would never let me live that one down.
But Alberta isn’t here with me right now, is she? I’m completely alone, and that means I can think of whatever the hell I damn please. And it doesn’t take a genius to find out that I want to be thinking of Kane right now.
Turning around to face the doorway, I bite the corner of my lips and lay my hand on the handle. Slowly, I close the door and turn the key inside, locking it. Tip-toeing my way to one of the chairs, I sit down and close my eyes for a while, breathing in deeply as I surrender to the avalanche of emotions that are building up inside of me.
Remembering the way Kane looked at me just a few minutes ago, I exhale sharply and place one hand over my stomach. Biting on the corner of my lower lip, I move the palm of my hand up, bringing it over the smooth curve of my right breast. I squeeze it softly, feeling my nipple hardening under the fabric, and I feel my mouth growing dry.
I can’t believe I’m doing this, I think to myself, now grabbing both my breasts and rubbing them gently. Then, I move both my hands down the side of my body, only stopping when my fingertips are over the hemline of my dress. Sliding them underneath the fabric, I hold my breath as I reach for my inner thighs, my heart tightening up as I brush my fingers against my drenched thong.
“Oh, God,” I whisper, breathing out all of a sudden. Pressing harder on my pussy now, I imagine how it’d feel to be swept off my feet by Kane. He has big strong arms, and it must feel like home when he has them around my tiny body...And the taste of his lips, oh, I wonder how good they must feel when pressed against mine.
Grabbing the fabric of my thong between my index finger and thumb, I flick it to the side. My skin prickles as I feel my knuckles brushing against my wet folds, and I lean back against the chair and throw my head back. My hair cascades down my shoulders, and I imagine Kane leaning in to kiss my neck, his hungry lips devouring me.
I want you, Katya, I imagine him saying and, for a moment, I stop being Sasha and fade into my role as Katya. He’s a powerful man, almost old enough to be my father...And I’m just the petite foreign exchange student, completely obsessed by his fatherly figure. It’s a dirty thought, I know...But dirtiness isn’t always bad, is it?
“Mm…” I moan, pursing my lips to stop myself. I’m inside my dressing room, yeah, but I don’t want to be too loud. There’s always someone walking up and down the corridor, and I don’t want anyone to decide to put an ear against my door to listen in.
Feeling my whole body tense up, I push past the resistance and, still keeping my thumb over my clit, I slide one finger inside my pussy. I push it past my drenched folds, sliding it up to that sweet spot inside me, and I press there as hard as I can. With one finger pressed against my G-spot, and another taking care of my clit, I work on my pussy until my whole body feels as if it’s on fire.
Kane’s naked body, his groans of pleasure, his hard cock—all these images waltz behind my shut eyelids as my fingers keep on moving, pushing me toward a mind-bending orgasm.
“Fuck,” I groan, the sound of my voice foreign to my own ears. Sliding one more finger inside my pussy, I press it hard against my G-spot, keeping it there until it feels as if my whole body is about to explode. Breathing out deeply, I let a wave of ecstasy wash through my body then, every single muscle in my body twitching as an orgasm takes over both my mind and body.
“Jesus,” I whisper, my voice quivering.
Reeling from that orgasm, I slide my fingers out of my pussy as slowly as I can, my skin prickling as I try to catch my breath.
Oh, God, I know I shouldn’t be thinking of this...But if sex with Kane was this good in my imagination, I wonder how good he is in real life.
Kane
“Action!”
I slip into character and lose myself in the elaborate party scene on the Manhattan Reign set. I can’t remember a time when I’ve been this excited to shoot a scene, and I’m not sure what to think about that. I know it’s because Sasha got me all kinds of turned on earlier when we did the table read and now we get to actually act it out, but I also know I shouldn’t be so excited.
I keep thinking about what Ryan said the day Sasha auditioned. I don’t want to cause her any trouble. But she’s causing me plenty of trouble already, and the scene has barely started.
The second she walked onto the set in a ridiculously short and tight black dress, the neckline diving way down between her tits—making a bra blessedly impossible, as evidenced by Sasha’s tight little nipples straining against the thin silk fabric—my dick went instantly hard. I mean, who could blame me? She has legs for miles, long and lean and toned. Perfect for wrapping around my waist as I ram my cock into her. Or even better, around my head as I suck and lick at her sweet pink pussy.
Fuuuuuck. Now my cock isn’t just hard, it’s like steel. There’s no way that can be missed. Not by the director, the crew, certainly not by the cameras. I’m pretty sure from the way Sasha glances at me and bites her lip that she hasn’t missed it either. Luckily this scene is supposed to be full of sexy innuendo, so maybe her reaction—and mine—will go unnoticed for what they really are.
Okay. Focus. I have a scene to do. I’m a professional. I’ve totally got this.
Except I don’t. Not when I look down at Sasha and see all the cleavage pouring out of that low dress just begging to be grabbed and squeezed, maybe licked and bitten.
Double fuck.
There’s no way I’m going to make it.
Drawing in a deep breath, I concentrate on playing my role. Rich father figure hosting a glamorous party full of young beautiful people. It’s not too hard to play the part, honestly. I grew up surrounded by luxury. Money was never an issue. Not only was my dad a famous and well-respected actor, my mother came from old money. My life has been nothing but glamour and glitz. People say that what’s on TV isn’t real. I beg to differ. My life is almost exactly like the part I’m playing now. Rich older guy with young girls chasing after him? Yep. Got that part down.
I look at Sasha again as the camera pans around the party scene—a wide shot that sets the stage for our first on-camera interaction. Breathe. Focus.
And just like always, I’m right in my element.
Smirk. Swagger. Sex.
That sums up me and my character in a nutshell.
The camera swings around in front of me as Sasha catches my eye from across the room and gives me a sultry, come-hither smile. It’s a good thing the scene calls for getting up close and personal, because that’s exactly what I’m about to do.
I saunter her way, and then run my eyes up and down her body, taking in every inch of luscious skin that’s begging for my attention.
“If you were my daughter, I’d have to insist you put on more clothes before leaving the house.” My delivery is perfect.
Her smile widens. “And what if I refused to obey?”
Fuck me. My cock totally just twitched at the way she looked at me. “Then I might have to punish you.”
Sasha arches her brow teasingly. So fucking sexy. “Then I guess I’d just have to disobey and see what Daddy had in store.”
Her role is one of such a naughty little vixen, out to seduce her best friend’s father, and right now I’m so totally down with that. I lean in close as I was directed and say, “A naughty little girl, aren’t you?” Then, under my breath, I add, “I don’t know if you can handle what Daddy has waiting for you. It’s big and hard, and I know how to use it to make you scream.”
Sasha’s eyes widen, and I’m certain her nipples perk up even more through that thin fabric. God, I just want to slip my hand right inside and pinch them, then pull them out and suck
them until she’s writhing under my hands.
How the fuck has this girl gotten under my skin so fast?
She stays in character, though. “I’m only as naughty as I need to be to get what I want.”
“And just what is it you want?” I watch as her eyes run up and down my body this time, then rest on my package for longer than necessary. I smirk. Yeah, I know exactly what she wants. I want it too. I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to resist this girl. I don’t even want to.
We continue with the scene for the next few minutes. Then we shoot it again. And again. And each time, Sasha gets a little bolder, a little more risqué with the things she whispers to me when she thinks no one is watching or listening. It works in the context of the scene. When the camera cuts away to focus on some of the other characters, we’re still supposed to keep up our flirting in the background.
That’s when I really let it go. Our mics aren’t on for this part to keep out background noise, so I take my chances. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me? You really are a bad girl, aren’t you?”
She takes a sip of her fake champagne, courtesy of the props department, and gives me a heated look. “So very bad. And I’m going to need someone to set me straight.”
I chuckle. “I promise you, if I have my way with you, you won’t be walking straight for a week.”
“Promise? I wouldn’t expect a man like you to make promises to a young girl that you couldn’t keep.”
I have every intention of keeping that promise. And as she turns to walk away, this part of the scene over, my dick is practically begging for relief. I have an out of control, raging hard-on.
At the last minute, she looks back at me, still within close range, and whispers, “You know where to find me.”
Sasha
I’m sitting in my dressing room. I’m still so turned on from that scene with Kane. Something tells me he’ll be in here soon. The things he was whispering in my ears turned me on so bad. I wanted him to ravish me. Right then and there, while all of those people were watching us.
