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rodneyscatTitle: Maybe something more
Pairing: Elijah/Pamela
Rating: NC-17
Note: Beta by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elfellon111, who picked out an embarrassing amount of typos, grammatical errors and such, gave excellent advice and put up with the fact that I didn't take all of it (= all the mistakes you'll find here are mine). Thank you!
Another note: Pamela is a woman and the rating is NC-17 for sexual content; expect het herein.
Disclaimer: Although some of the characters in this fic are real people, I haven't got a clue what they're up to for real. I made this all up.
* * *
The day Eugene's gang arrived, he came to me and said I had to come along for a drink after shooting. Usually I'd just clap some shoulders and wave at people in passing, happy enough to be heading back to the little apartment I was supposed to call home for the time being. Sure, I loved to do some sightseeing during the weekend, preferably on my own, only accompanied by my camera, and maybe have a couple of beers with some of the cast and crew in the evening, but otherwise I preferred my own room, with my own stuff, to just relax. Usually, I'd eat something decent on set, so in the evening a sandwich would do. Just put my feet up, watch some movie, eat my sandwich, drink my obligatory glass of milk (hey, I smoke, I drink too much and don't exercise enough, so I cling to the few healthy habits I have), and just wind down from being surrounded by people the whole damn day.
But the day Eugene's gang arrived was a Tuesday. He was eager to see them again and introducing them to me couldn't wait until the weekend. I understood. In fact, I was kind of curious myself. I'd heard their music of course; Eugene and I had been swapping music between us, as it was immediately clear that this was a passion we shared, and one of the first things I'd asked of him was to let me hear some of what they were up to. Disarming guy, crazy band, something I'd love to experience live instead of just getting into it by way of CD (of which he'd given me the real thing instead of making me a copy). And I'd heard the stories. Places they'd been, the kind of shows they stage, how their act changes along the way, how the crowd changes the show. All very organic, improvised. Something I could never do, but admire a great deal in others.
So I said ok. I'd go along with the lot of them. Go to my apartment first, to change, eat my sandwich and drink my milk and then walk the short distance to a place where we liked to go, because the people there could be persuaded to play the CD's we brought along.
The end of the day was there, Liev called it a wrap, I clapped shoulders, waved at people I passed on my way out, and went home. I did what I had to do, reminded myself that I'd promised, never mind I seemed to have settled in front of the television a bit too comfortably, got up and headed for the café.
When I got in it was quite clear where Eugene and the rest were; they're a cheerful and loud bunch, and when he spotted me, he called out 'there he is!' and all eyes were on me. People were introduced, lots of hands were shaken and names memorized as quickly as possible, because that's a matter of pride to me. One name was easy. Pamela. Because when I hear 'Pamela' I think big boobs and blond hair - but the contrast was striking as with her it's a slim figure and dark hair. And well, I have a thing for that.
I had a very nice evening. Most of the time I was just standing there, listening to them catching up after not having seen each other for quite a while. Every now and then Eugene would draw me into the conversation, when he was talking about filming and other stuff that I could talk along about. The band was supposed to stay here for a short while, to do an appearance in the movie, and a couple of the group members had decided to prolong their stay so they could see a bit of Prague and maybe even some more. I sort of lost track of the conversation here and there, but I'm sure I heard Pamela mention that she was one of the people who was going to stay a little longer. My stomach did an unexpected but happy little flip-flop when I heard her say that.
Somehow it must have gotten late, because some of the people in the group were starting to leave. Eugene was still talking animatedly with someone whose name I hadn't caught, and I interrupted them to ask if I could get them something to drink, as I was going to get my last beer. They decided that was a good idea, both the beer as it being the last one. After all, we all had to get up early the following morning. When I turned for the bar I almost bumped into Pamela. 'Four last beers then?' she asked with a broad smile, turned around and ordered.
Along with slim women and dark hair, I also have a thing for snubby noses, and the way she was standing, I had a nice view of her profile. She has a very lovely nose; not too big, nor too small and sweetly rounded. When she turned with two of the beers in her hands, she caught me cross-eyed from looking so close up. I focused on her eyes as quick as I could manage and grinned. And I blushed, because I blush easily. 'You take these?' she said, and when I did, she took the other two and we headed back.
Nothing interesting happened that evening, other than it was the first time I met Pamela. Which is a big deal to me. In fact, it was such a big deal to me that very evening, that I found myself wanking to the image of her sweating and moaning under me when I got back to my place. I was tired, slightly drunk and hadn't been with anyone for months, so I didn't really think about it when I dropped in the bed after brushing my teeth, and I let my hand slip into my boxers for a quick wank. It's a relaxing thing to do right before sleeping. It was only afterwards, when I was dozing off, that it struck me I had to work with her the next day. I lay there, on the brink of sleep, trying to figure out if it made me feel uncomfortable, or guilty, or if those were butterflies in my stomach. I only suspected I knew the answer to that one when I woke up the next morning and the first thing that came to my mind was I wonder if Pamela is up already.
* * *
It's quite frustrating that I generally connect with people so easily, but seem to have such a hard time starting a conversation with someone I'd like to get to know in a more romantic way. You can find me chatting with everybody; co-actors, the director, the guy who does the lighting and the lady who serves the coffee, as long as I don't want to date them. In the days following the arrival of Eugene's gang, I tried to talk with Pamela at any given opportunity. She always seemed to be around others, talking and laughing and whenever I came to stand near her, she'd smile and make room so I could join their circle. I'd chat and laugh along, but that was it.
During scenes I didn't have a problem. I'm professional enough to not get distracted then, even when she was in the same scene. But there was plenty of time between takes, and I'd just hang around with the others or play with my camera. I like making pictures or shooting these short films. Once I'd tried a thing where I'd film one guy of the band who was cleaning his tuba while I was walking around him. He asked what I was doing, so I showed him the result on the little display. It wasn't until I heard her say 'weird' that I noticed she'd been looking over my shoulder. I looked up, she smiled at me and walked away. The whole damn day my attention is drawn towards her, and when I'm standing there with a topic for conversation in my hand, I notice too late.
Another time I was sitting in the on-set tent we used for breaks, fussing with my contacts. They don't usually bother me, but it was dry and windy weather and every opportunity I got I'd take off Jonathan's glasses, get out my contacts and put on my own glasses to give my eyes some rest. I had a scene coming up and was, cursing under my breath, totally absorbed in blinking the contacts into place, when she came walking up to me.
'They can be a pain sometimes, right?'
I looked up at her, 'It'll be better in a bit. You've got contacts too?'
'Oh yeah,' she squatted down beside me, resting one hand on my knee for balance and moved close with her face at an angle, 'See?'
I saw.
But most of all I felt her touch and the things that touch alone was doing to my dick.
The assistant who looked around the corner and hollered 'Mr. Wood is wanted on set now please', nearly gave me a heart-attack. It had a sobering effect on my dick, so that was helpful, but otherwise this was another chance for a conversation blown to pieces.
* * *
The evenings went much the same. I no longer stayed on my own, but went out with the group every evening, hoping for some opportunity to talk with her on a more personal level. I didn't really think it through, didn't think of maybe asking her out for dinner, because she seemed so much part of the group, I felt I needed to have that 'more personal' conversation first, as an excuse to ask her out; you don't go to a group, pick one person to ask for dinner, ignoring all the others. Or maybe I just over-think these things.
Friday evening came, and I was feeling a bit depressed that I hadn't gotten any further with her, so I was sitting at the bar, staring into my beer, thinking up ways to invite her for a tour through Prague during the weekend, or something, because if I was going to wait much longer, I wouldn't get the chance: she wouldn't be here for very long anymore!
And then she was standing next to me. 'Say Elijah, you got any plans for the weekend?'
'No, not really. Why?' Oh really smooth Elijah. I immediately knew I should have said, 'Not yet, but I could give you a tour of the city if you like'.
She didn't seem taken aback in the least though 'Well, I wanted to go and see some of Prague while I'm here. You care to give me a personal tour?'
My heart skipped a few beats, and before I could stop myself I said, 'Oh, aren't the others going?'. It was like I was deliberately trying to not make this work.
She looked at me evenly and just said 'yeah.'
'Oh. But you want to go with me, instead of them?' It was one of those conversations that keep haunting you for years and will keep you cringing every time you think back on them.
It looked like she was forcing herself not to laugh out loud, when she said 'yeah' again. I couldn't be sure, but it certainly looked like it.
Finally I managed to get a grasp of the situation and start being at least practical. I could go for charming tomorrow, but it seemed too much to ask right now. So we set a time somewhere early in the afternoon, and I was going to pick her up at the hotel in which she was staying. This was conveniently close to the center, so we could start walking from there and decide on the spot where exactly we would be going.
At least I had the presence of mind to buy us both a fresh glass of beer, so we could drink on the upcoming weekend. We kept sitting at the bar and one after the other the rest of the group joined us, so the remainder of the evening went pretty much as it always did. I was feeling much better about it now though, knowing I'd have her all to myself the next day.
* * *
The next day was great. I mean right from the moment she looked up at me from the newspaper she was reading in the lobby of her hotel where we'd agreed to meet, up to the moment after-dinner coffee was served and it was clear something was going to need to be said about what we were going to do next. It had been a whole day of walking around Prague, talking and laughing, having a drink here and there, and ending up in a restaurant I hadn't been before, but turned out to be excellent.
'You know, I'm glad you read my mind about wanting to give you that tour of Prague, I had a brilliant day.'
'Me too'. She smiled at me, sipped from her coffee and put the cup down looking thoughtful. 'I'm not sure if I can pull off that mind-reading trick again though. What are your plans for tonight?'
'Plans or hopes?' I replied cowardly; I'm really good at avoiding a direct answer.
She rolled her eyes. 'Do I have to do all the work here?! Ok, what do you plan to do about your hopes then?'
I thought about it for a while. I could suggest to go meet the others in the regular place, but that was not what I wanted, not really. It just seemed like the kind of thing I ought to suggest. What I wanted was take her to my apartment and make good use of the bed there. I wanted her to stay the night and watch her wake up. I wanted to have slow morning sex with her and I hadn't even kissed her yet.
She picked up her cup, brought it to her lips and said before taking another sip 'I think I'm reading your mind again...'
Hoping that indeed she'd guessed some of it right, I figured I'd better just come out with it. 'If I asked you to come to my apartment with me, would you say yes?'
She smiled. 'Try actually asking it.'
'I don't have condoms there.' I blurted, because I'm really shy about asking a girl out, but I have these sudden bouts of complete honesty that are going to be the death of me one of these days.
She nearly choked laughing, and she wasn't even drinking while I said that.
When she caught her breath again she said, 'ok, so we need to go to my hotel first, to pick up my bag, my toothbrush and condoms...'
'So, you're going to spend the night with me?'
'Yes, yes I am.'
We just grinned at each other for a moment. Then I called a waiter for the check, I paid and we left. We decided to walk to her hotel and take a cab from there. It was so good just walking hand in hand, mostly without talking now, feeling sappy and happy, and also horny, although that doesn't sound as romantic but it somehow was too. We still hadn't kissed yet, but I knew it was going to happen and I was just reveling in the moment.
When we walked into the lobby of the hotel, she turned to me. 'I'll go get my stuff, I'll be right back.' She squeezed my hand for a moment, then let go, and walked to the elevator.
I sat down in one of the lounge chairs, fished my cell phone from my pocket, and called a cab. By the time it arrived, she came down with a traveler bag slung across her shoulder.
'I'm ready, let's go,' she said.
In the taxi she reclined a little, leaning her head against the back and let it fall to the side to look at me. I mirrored her, and held up my hand to her, palm up, so she could put her hand in mine, which she did. I turned my head a little to look at our hands, while I played with her fingers, and from the corner of my eyes I could see her watching me. I turned my head towards her again, and after a few moments closed the distance between us, so when I started talking I was mumbling with my lips against hers.
'I don't want to make out in a taxi...'
'Ok.'
'...but I want to kiss you pretty badly by now.'
I felt her smile. She turned her head and lifted my hand to her mouth where she proceeded to nip at my fingers with soft lips. I watched it quite breathlessly and when after a while I moved my hand to cup her cheek, she turned to kiss the palm, faced me again and whispered, 'aren't we there yet?'
'Uhm.' I honestly didn't know how long we'd been sitting there. It must have been about 10 minutes, because that's how long the taxi had taken that afternoon, and just then we came to a halt in front of my apartment.
It took an effort to turn my attention to the driver in order to pay him. When I took out my wallet, I saw she was about to say something, but decided against it. We got out of the car and while I was still busy stuffing my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans, she said 'I can pay for myself you know...'
I'm never sure how to solve that dilemma gracefully. It's not about me wanting to show I've got more money than her. It's not about being a man. Well, ok, maybe it's a bit of that too, but it certainly wasn't about buying any favors! This all ran through my head in a matter of seconds, while I was blinking at her, opening and closing my mouth, searching for an answer.
'Hey, it's no big deal, I just meant to say that next time we'll split costs,' she snickered. 'Today you get to pay all though, you're not getting a penny from me.'
I blew out a laugh. 'Ok... ok, well, let's get inside.'
I opened the door to my apartment and let her in. She walked in, past the couch to the small dining table, where she put her bag on one of the chairs, turned around and leaned back against the table, resting her hands on the edge on either side of her hips, with stretched arms. She looked at me, smiled and said, 'nice'.
'Yeah, especially with you here in the room now.'
Her smile broadened at that.
When I walked towards her she set her legs apart just enough, but very deliberate, so I could stand between them and put my hands on hers, which was close enough for her to feel my breath on her lips as I asked, 'would you like something to drink?'
'No.'
I touched my forehead to hers, rubbed my nose gently across her cheekbone.
'Are you sure?' I asked with my lips against her cheek.
She closed her eyes and didn't move at all, except that she'd started stroking my hands with her thumbs. I'd never been aware that I had an erogenous zone between the thumb and forefinger of both my hands, but there was no mistaking now. The urge to push my crotch against hers was almost too much to resist
I moved my hands to her hips and she followed along and started spider-walking my forearms with light fingers, while I nuzzled around her neck and ear. Just sort of touching her with my lips, inhaling her scent.
'I thought you wanted to kiss me.'
'Oh, I do...'
'Then why don't you.'
'I'm getting there,' I breathed in her ear.
I felt her squirm a little and she made a tiny frustrated sound. 'Fucking tease...'
That was my cue to go for her mouth, because I wasn't trying to be a tease. It's just that once I was confident that there was going to be kissing and more, I wasn't in a hurry anymore. I can really revel in a moment. But I can also revel in a kiss, so I moved, and it was every bit as wonderful as I'd thought it would be. Her mouth was soft and warm and welcoming. She'd wriggled her hands inside the sleeves of my t-shirt and was softly and rhythmically massaging my shoulders, which made me moan quite helplessly as we turned our heads this way and that, just kissing. Finally kissing.
It wasn't until she let out a tiny whimper and I felt one of her legs slowly rubbing up and down mine, that I realized I was humping up against her in the same rhythm with which she'd been gently tugging at me. I pulled back a little, breaking the kiss, at which she came up to lap at my lips a couple of times before burrowing her face in my neck. She sighed, pulled her hands out of my sleeves and wrapped her arms around my waist instead.
'I want you in my bed.' It was out before I could think about it, but it felt right.
'I want you in me.' She kept her face in my neck, but moved her hands to my butt, and tugged.
'Oh fuck, yeah...' The weird catch in my voice when I said that, didn't even embarrass me. For a moment I clung to her a little harder, but that wasn't getting us to the bedroom, so I took her face in both my hands and kissed her some more, but more passionate this time. I grabbed behind me to take one of her hands, bit gently at her lips a couple of times before stepping back and tugging.
'Come, come with me, take your bag along and come.'
She took her bag and followed my lead to the little corridor, up the stairs, to my bedroom, to my bed. I sat on the bed and scrambled backwards onto it, pulling her along. She dumped the bag on the floor before following me, straddling me, until I was all the way up the bed, with her over me, both grinning like idiots and she took both my hands, moved them up (and I happily let her), pushed them down in the pillow on either side of my head and started kissing me. She had her hips over mine, but I wanted contact, so I dug my heels in and pushed my hips off the bed. She let me rub my crotch against her for a while before settling her weight on me and pushing me down. I only wriggled and squirmed so I could feel her pushing me down all the better. I felt that maybe she'd want me to flip her onto her back, because she was making those impatient sounds again, but when she pushed herself up it was to say, 'I want to get naked, let me see you, let me feel your skin.'
She sat up, let go of my hands, pulled her t-shirt over her head, unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and jumped off the bed to wriggle out of them. Seeing her hurrying like that, got me moving. I shed my t-shirt and started to work on my jeans, but was presented with a problem when I tried to lose them. I still had my Chucks on, where she'd worn shoes that she could kick off along with the jeans. I sat there, feeling ridiculous, with a flushed face, trying to untie my laces while my jeans were bunched up around my ankles.
I was so concentrated on that, that I didn't notice her crawling up to me. She easily unbalanced me by pushing at my shoulders, which made me fall backwards. She kept her hands on my shoulders and her weight on her hands while she straddled me again. She leaned forward and whispered, 'I'll help you with those.'
I yelped at the lap she gave my ear, before she moved to straddle me the other way around. I was presented with her backside, clad only in panties, hovering above my stomach, and while she was busy with my laces, I started kneading her butt-cheeks. First over the panties, but by the time she'd removed the Chucks from my feet and had started to get my jeans off, I wriggled my fingers inside them. When I softly moved my thumbs over the crotch of her panties, I felt it was quite damp. We moaned simultaneously and she had to pause what she was doing for a moment.
It was when I stroked her crotch again, that she cursed loudly, pushed herself up and tugged on my jeans hard to make them come off in one pull. She threw the jeans away, turned around quickly and locked onto my mouth to kiss me fiercely. I was so incredibly turned on, I wrapped my arms around her and flipped her onto her back. She went immediately, hooked her legs over mine and rubbed her crotch up and down my cock with short, frantic movements.
She moved her mouth from mine to puff out little, 'oh... oh... oh... oh...' sounds. Then she started squirming under me, 'Fuck, stop, I... My bag, let me get my bag.'
I pushed myself up a little and searched for where her bag was. It was right beside the bed, so I leaned over and grabbed it. 'Here you go...'
She tried to rummage through her bag, but the angle was awkward and I didn't have the presence of mind to get off her, so after a few seconds she said 'Jesus fuck...!', upturned the bag and emptied it on the bed. With some quick ruffling through the contents, she found what she was looking for.
When I moved to pick the condom from her, she said, 'No, I'll do it.' She squirmed around, I got off her and lay on my back, my hands raised a bit in a gesture of surrender, grinning up at her. She got on her knees, lay the condom on my stomach and started tugging my boxers down my legs. When she'd gotten them past my feet and thrown on the floor, she moved both hands gently up my legs again, stroking softly, right up to where my cock lay twitching expectantly. She straddled my legs, took the package, ripped it, took the condom out and rolled it over my cock. When she was done, she crawled up to me. She lay beside me, with one leg over mine, her face close to mine, noses touching. She nipped at my lips, then turned onto her back.
'Help me with my panties?'
So this time it was me moving down her body, getting her panties off of her. I crawled up between her legs and lay down. For a while we just kissed again, very thoroughly and not holding back on the moaning and whimpering. We both seemed to be quite vocal in that way. When she moved her legs even more open and up, I looked at her and asked, 'Let me in?'
'Oh yes...' she breathed.
I leaned up on my elbows, and she moved her hands down between us, to guide me. I slowly sank into her warmth, until I was fully sheathed, breathtakingly deep inside her, feeling my balls snug against her butt, because she'd drawn her legs up even more. She moved her hands to my butt and pulled a little, encouragingly. I moved. With every few slow thrusts, I kissed her face. Her cheeks, her nose, her mouth. I'd just land kisses where I could reach her. When I kissed her mouth, she'd kiss back, or nip at my lips. Sometimes she'd close her eyes, but every time she opened them again and we would look at each other. It was incredibly intimate.
I wasn't sure how long I would last and was determined to stretch this as long as I could manage and give a warning when I'd feel I couldn't hold on much longer. Before I passed that point however she wriggled her hand between us. I bent my back a bit, to give her room, which also gave me the opportunity to push up more at each upward stroke, so her clit would be stimulated from both sides, as she started rubbing herself. She hummed softly to herself, with closed eyes.
When she opened them again, she looked at me, unfocused, her mouth slightly open, letting short huffs escape while she started snapping her hips up faster. I watched her breathlessly as I sped up too, pushing up and in hard and fast now. With a long, keening moan she let go. I felt her orgasm ripple through her, and I only realized how close I'd been myself, when the sight and feel of her unraveling under and around me was enough to make me let go and shudder through my own release. I bucked a couple of times more, helpless to hold back and she reacted with aftershocks and some more high whimpering.
I collapsed on top of her and she clung to me. We were both panting and started giggling when even more aftershocks rippled through us. 'Jesus...' She said. 'That was... fuck... jesus...' I just moaned with my face pressed against her throat.
She slowly let her legs down, which reminded me that there was some business to attend to.
'I'm sorry, let me...' I came up, leaned on one arm, carefully took my condom clad dick and slowly pulled out. We both whimpered at the feeling and giggled about that. I moved off the bed to go to the bathroom. It's never the most charming moment when a man has to take a condom off his half-hard dick, and I prefer to do it in private if I can. So I took care of business, washed my hands and went back to the bedroom.
She'd put on clean panties and was putting all her stuff back into her bag, safe for some clothes she'd hung out over a chair. I realized her bra hadn't come off during our love making. Neither had my socks for that matter, so I was standing there in nothing but my socks. She looked up at me. 'I think I'd like a drink now, if the offer still stands.'
'Yeah, good idea.' I said, while I picked a pair of clean boxers from my drawers. 'I could use a smoke too. Do you mind if I smoke? I could go outside for that.'
'It's your apartment.'
'I know, but if it bothers you I don't mind going outside.'
She walked towards me, still only in bra and panties and looking astonishing.
Feeling astonishing too. She wrapped her arms around me, and I let mine slip around her. She kissed me and said. 'It doesn't bother me when you smoke.'
We kissed some more and after a while we put on some clothes and headed for the kitchen for drinks and my smoke and I even found crackers and cheese I keep in stock for when I have an appetite for a late night snack. We talked and laughed and when we went to bed we cuddled, which turned into lovemaking and the next morning I got my slow morning sex. We spent the whole Sunday together and although she didn't officially check out of her hotel until the end of her stay in Prague, all of her things ended up in my apartment, and she spent every night with me.
* * *
So I'm sitting here, trying to be rational about it. We had a damn nice time in Prague, but we agreed that with the whole East-coast/West-coast thing and with the lives we're each living, trying to have a steady relationship would not work. She booked a week extra when the others left Prague, which was great, but, frankly, it also made it even more difficult when she left and I saw her out at the airport. We hugged and kissed and wished each other well and wished she could stay longer and fuck it, we weren't going to make any definite promises but when I got back, I would contact her. We could hang out.
The Internet is a wonderful thing. We've been emailing daily. Cheerful emails. But I just got one to which she'd added a short PS. It read 'I'm afraid I miss you and I'm not even sure if I should have said that.'
In a couple of days I'll be done shooting here, and I can go home. But I'm thinking of maybe staying here for another two weeks. I could ask her to come over, since she's not touring with the band at the moment anyway, so she could have time. I checked and it turned out I could stay in this apartment a little longer. She could stay here if she'd like. I wonder if she'd mind if I pay for her ticket.
* * *
Pairing: Elijah/Pamela
Rating: NC-17
Note: Beta by
elfellon111, who picked out an embarrassing amount of typos, grammatical errors and such, gave excellent advice and put up with the fact that I didn't take all of it (= all the mistakes you'll find here are mine). Thank you!Another note: Pamela is a woman and the rating is NC-17 for sexual content; expect het herein.
Disclaimer: Although some of the characters in this fic are real people, I haven't got a clue what they're up to for real. I made this all up.
The day Eugene's gang arrived, he came to me and said I had to come along for a drink after shooting. Usually I'd just clap some shoulders and wave at people in passing, happy enough to be heading back to the little apartment I was supposed to call home for the time being. Sure, I loved to do some sightseeing during the weekend, preferably on my own, only accompanied by my camera, and maybe have a couple of beers with some of the cast and crew in the evening, but otherwise I preferred my own room, with my own stuff, to just relax. Usually, I'd eat something decent on set, so in the evening a sandwich would do. Just put my feet up, watch some movie, eat my sandwich, drink my obligatory glass of milk (hey, I smoke, I drink too much and don't exercise enough, so I cling to the few healthy habits I have), and just wind down from being surrounded by people the whole damn day.
But the day Eugene's gang arrived was a Tuesday. He was eager to see them again and introducing them to me couldn't wait until the weekend. I understood. In fact, I was kind of curious myself. I'd heard their music of course; Eugene and I had been swapping music between us, as it was immediately clear that this was a passion we shared, and one of the first things I'd asked of him was to let me hear some of what they were up to. Disarming guy, crazy band, something I'd love to experience live instead of just getting into it by way of CD (of which he'd given me the real thing instead of making me a copy). And I'd heard the stories. Places they'd been, the kind of shows they stage, how their act changes along the way, how the crowd changes the show. All very organic, improvised. Something I could never do, but admire a great deal in others.
So I said ok. I'd go along with the lot of them. Go to my apartment first, to change, eat my sandwich and drink my milk and then walk the short distance to a place where we liked to go, because the people there could be persuaded to play the CD's we brought along.
The end of the day was there, Liev called it a wrap, I clapped shoulders, waved at people I passed on my way out, and went home. I did what I had to do, reminded myself that I'd promised, never mind I seemed to have settled in front of the television a bit too comfortably, got up and headed for the café.
When I got in it was quite clear where Eugene and the rest were; they're a cheerful and loud bunch, and when he spotted me, he called out 'there he is!' and all eyes were on me. People were introduced, lots of hands were shaken and names memorized as quickly as possible, because that's a matter of pride to me. One name was easy. Pamela. Because when I hear 'Pamela' I think big boobs and blond hair - but the contrast was striking as with her it's a slim figure and dark hair. And well, I have a thing for that.
I had a very nice evening. Most of the time I was just standing there, listening to them catching up after not having seen each other for quite a while. Every now and then Eugene would draw me into the conversation, when he was talking about filming and other stuff that I could talk along about. The band was supposed to stay here for a short while, to do an appearance in the movie, and a couple of the group members had decided to prolong their stay so they could see a bit of Prague and maybe even some more. I sort of lost track of the conversation here and there, but I'm sure I heard Pamela mention that she was one of the people who was going to stay a little longer. My stomach did an unexpected but happy little flip-flop when I heard her say that.
Somehow it must have gotten late, because some of the people in the group were starting to leave. Eugene was still talking animatedly with someone whose name I hadn't caught, and I interrupted them to ask if I could get them something to drink, as I was going to get my last beer. They decided that was a good idea, both the beer as it being the last one. After all, we all had to get up early the following morning. When I turned for the bar I almost bumped into Pamela. 'Four last beers then?' she asked with a broad smile, turned around and ordered.
Along with slim women and dark hair, I also have a thing for snubby noses, and the way she was standing, I had a nice view of her profile. She has a very lovely nose; not too big, nor too small and sweetly rounded. When she turned with two of the beers in her hands, she caught me cross-eyed from looking so close up. I focused on her eyes as quick as I could manage and grinned. And I blushed, because I blush easily. 'You take these?' she said, and when I did, she took the other two and we headed back.
Nothing interesting happened that evening, other than it was the first time I met Pamela. Which is a big deal to me. In fact, it was such a big deal to me that very evening, that I found myself wanking to the image of her sweating and moaning under me when I got back to my place. I was tired, slightly drunk and hadn't been with anyone for months, so I didn't really think about it when I dropped in the bed after brushing my teeth, and I let my hand slip into my boxers for a quick wank. It's a relaxing thing to do right before sleeping. It was only afterwards, when I was dozing off, that it struck me I had to work with her the next day. I lay there, on the brink of sleep, trying to figure out if it made me feel uncomfortable, or guilty, or if those were butterflies in my stomach. I only suspected I knew the answer to that one when I woke up the next morning and the first thing that came to my mind was I wonder if Pamela is up already.
It's quite frustrating that I generally connect with people so easily, but seem to have such a hard time starting a conversation with someone I'd like to get to know in a more romantic way. You can find me chatting with everybody; co-actors, the director, the guy who does the lighting and the lady who serves the coffee, as long as I don't want to date them. In the days following the arrival of Eugene's gang, I tried to talk with Pamela at any given opportunity. She always seemed to be around others, talking and laughing and whenever I came to stand near her, she'd smile and make room so I could join their circle. I'd chat and laugh along, but that was it.
During scenes I didn't have a problem. I'm professional enough to not get distracted then, even when she was in the same scene. But there was plenty of time between takes, and I'd just hang around with the others or play with my camera. I like making pictures or shooting these short films. Once I'd tried a thing where I'd film one guy of the band who was cleaning his tuba while I was walking around him. He asked what I was doing, so I showed him the result on the little display. It wasn't until I heard her say 'weird' that I noticed she'd been looking over my shoulder. I looked up, she smiled at me and walked away. The whole damn day my attention is drawn towards her, and when I'm standing there with a topic for conversation in my hand, I notice too late.
Another time I was sitting in the on-set tent we used for breaks, fussing with my contacts. They don't usually bother me, but it was dry and windy weather and every opportunity I got I'd take off Jonathan's glasses, get out my contacts and put on my own glasses to give my eyes some rest. I had a scene coming up and was, cursing under my breath, totally absorbed in blinking the contacts into place, when she came walking up to me.
'They can be a pain sometimes, right?'
I looked up at her, 'It'll be better in a bit. You've got contacts too?'
'Oh yeah,' she squatted down beside me, resting one hand on my knee for balance and moved close with her face at an angle, 'See?'
I saw.
But most of all I felt her touch and the things that touch alone was doing to my dick.
The assistant who looked around the corner and hollered 'Mr. Wood is wanted on set now please', nearly gave me a heart-attack. It had a sobering effect on my dick, so that was helpful, but otherwise this was another chance for a conversation blown to pieces.
The evenings went much the same. I no longer stayed on my own, but went out with the group every evening, hoping for some opportunity to talk with her on a more personal level. I didn't really think it through, didn't think of maybe asking her out for dinner, because she seemed so much part of the group, I felt I needed to have that 'more personal' conversation first, as an excuse to ask her out; you don't go to a group, pick one person to ask for dinner, ignoring all the others. Or maybe I just over-think these things.
Friday evening came, and I was feeling a bit depressed that I hadn't gotten any further with her, so I was sitting at the bar, staring into my beer, thinking up ways to invite her for a tour through Prague during the weekend, or something, because if I was going to wait much longer, I wouldn't get the chance: she wouldn't be here for very long anymore!
And then she was standing next to me. 'Say Elijah, you got any plans for the weekend?'
'No, not really. Why?' Oh really smooth Elijah. I immediately knew I should have said, 'Not yet, but I could give you a tour of the city if you like'.
She didn't seem taken aback in the least though 'Well, I wanted to go and see some of Prague while I'm here. You care to give me a personal tour?'
My heart skipped a few beats, and before I could stop myself I said, 'Oh, aren't the others going?'. It was like I was deliberately trying to not make this work.
She looked at me evenly and just said 'yeah.'
'Oh. But you want to go with me, instead of them?' It was one of those conversations that keep haunting you for years and will keep you cringing every time you think back on them.
It looked like she was forcing herself not to laugh out loud, when she said 'yeah' again. I couldn't be sure, but it certainly looked like it.
Finally I managed to get a grasp of the situation and start being at least practical. I could go for charming tomorrow, but it seemed too much to ask right now. So we set a time somewhere early in the afternoon, and I was going to pick her up at the hotel in which she was staying. This was conveniently close to the center, so we could start walking from there and decide on the spot where exactly we would be going.
At least I had the presence of mind to buy us both a fresh glass of beer, so we could drink on the upcoming weekend. We kept sitting at the bar and one after the other the rest of the group joined us, so the remainder of the evening went pretty much as it always did. I was feeling much better about it now though, knowing I'd have her all to myself the next day.
The next day was great. I mean right from the moment she looked up at me from the newspaper she was reading in the lobby of her hotel where we'd agreed to meet, up to the moment after-dinner coffee was served and it was clear something was going to need to be said about what we were going to do next. It had been a whole day of walking around Prague, talking and laughing, having a drink here and there, and ending up in a restaurant I hadn't been before, but turned out to be excellent.
'You know, I'm glad you read my mind about wanting to give you that tour of Prague, I had a brilliant day.'
'Me too'. She smiled at me, sipped from her coffee and put the cup down looking thoughtful. 'I'm not sure if I can pull off that mind-reading trick again though. What are your plans for tonight?'
'Plans or hopes?' I replied cowardly; I'm really good at avoiding a direct answer.
She rolled her eyes. 'Do I have to do all the work here?! Ok, what do you plan to do about your hopes then?'
I thought about it for a while. I could suggest to go meet the others in the regular place, but that was not what I wanted, not really. It just seemed like the kind of thing I ought to suggest. What I wanted was take her to my apartment and make good use of the bed there. I wanted her to stay the night and watch her wake up. I wanted to have slow morning sex with her and I hadn't even kissed her yet.
She picked up her cup, brought it to her lips and said before taking another sip 'I think I'm reading your mind again...'
Hoping that indeed she'd guessed some of it right, I figured I'd better just come out with it. 'If I asked you to come to my apartment with me, would you say yes?'
She smiled. 'Try actually asking it.'
'I don't have condoms there.' I blurted, because I'm really shy about asking a girl out, but I have these sudden bouts of complete honesty that are going to be the death of me one of these days.
She nearly choked laughing, and she wasn't even drinking while I said that.
When she caught her breath again she said, 'ok, so we need to go to my hotel first, to pick up my bag, my toothbrush and condoms...'
'So, you're going to spend the night with me?'
'Yes, yes I am.'
We just grinned at each other for a moment. Then I called a waiter for the check, I paid and we left. We decided to walk to her hotel and take a cab from there. It was so good just walking hand in hand, mostly without talking now, feeling sappy and happy, and also horny, although that doesn't sound as romantic but it somehow was too. We still hadn't kissed yet, but I knew it was going to happen and I was just reveling in the moment.
When we walked into the lobby of the hotel, she turned to me. 'I'll go get my stuff, I'll be right back.' She squeezed my hand for a moment, then let go, and walked to the elevator.
I sat down in one of the lounge chairs, fished my cell phone from my pocket, and called a cab. By the time it arrived, she came down with a traveler bag slung across her shoulder.
'I'm ready, let's go,' she said.
In the taxi she reclined a little, leaning her head against the back and let it fall to the side to look at me. I mirrored her, and held up my hand to her, palm up, so she could put her hand in mine, which she did. I turned my head a little to look at our hands, while I played with her fingers, and from the corner of my eyes I could see her watching me. I turned my head towards her again, and after a few moments closed the distance between us, so when I started talking I was mumbling with my lips against hers.
'I don't want to make out in a taxi...'
'Ok.'
'...but I want to kiss you pretty badly by now.'
I felt her smile. She turned her head and lifted my hand to her mouth where she proceeded to nip at my fingers with soft lips. I watched it quite breathlessly and when after a while I moved my hand to cup her cheek, she turned to kiss the palm, faced me again and whispered, 'aren't we there yet?'
'Uhm.' I honestly didn't know how long we'd been sitting there. It must have been about 10 minutes, because that's how long the taxi had taken that afternoon, and just then we came to a halt in front of my apartment.
It took an effort to turn my attention to the driver in order to pay him. When I took out my wallet, I saw she was about to say something, but decided against it. We got out of the car and while I was still busy stuffing my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans, she said 'I can pay for myself you know...'
I'm never sure how to solve that dilemma gracefully. It's not about me wanting to show I've got more money than her. It's not about being a man. Well, ok, maybe it's a bit of that too, but it certainly wasn't about buying any favors! This all ran through my head in a matter of seconds, while I was blinking at her, opening and closing my mouth, searching for an answer.
'Hey, it's no big deal, I just meant to say that next time we'll split costs,' she snickered. 'Today you get to pay all though, you're not getting a penny from me.'
I blew out a laugh. 'Ok... ok, well, let's get inside.'
I opened the door to my apartment and let her in. She walked in, past the couch to the small dining table, where she put her bag on one of the chairs, turned around and leaned back against the table, resting her hands on the edge on either side of her hips, with stretched arms. She looked at me, smiled and said, 'nice'.
'Yeah, especially with you here in the room now.'
Her smile broadened at that.
When I walked towards her she set her legs apart just enough, but very deliberate, so I could stand between them and put my hands on hers, which was close enough for her to feel my breath on her lips as I asked, 'would you like something to drink?'
'No.'
I touched my forehead to hers, rubbed my nose gently across her cheekbone.
'Are you sure?' I asked with my lips against her cheek.
She closed her eyes and didn't move at all, except that she'd started stroking my hands with her thumbs. I'd never been aware that I had an erogenous zone between the thumb and forefinger of both my hands, but there was no mistaking now. The urge to push my crotch against hers was almost too much to resist
I moved my hands to her hips and she followed along and started spider-walking my forearms with light fingers, while I nuzzled around her neck and ear. Just sort of touching her with my lips, inhaling her scent.
'I thought you wanted to kiss me.'
'Oh, I do...'
'Then why don't you.'
'I'm getting there,' I breathed in her ear.
I felt her squirm a little and she made a tiny frustrated sound. 'Fucking tease...'
That was my cue to go for her mouth, because I wasn't trying to be a tease. It's just that once I was confident that there was going to be kissing and more, I wasn't in a hurry anymore. I can really revel in a moment. But I can also revel in a kiss, so I moved, and it was every bit as wonderful as I'd thought it would be. Her mouth was soft and warm and welcoming. She'd wriggled her hands inside the sleeves of my t-shirt and was softly and rhythmically massaging my shoulders, which made me moan quite helplessly as we turned our heads this way and that, just kissing. Finally kissing.
It wasn't until she let out a tiny whimper and I felt one of her legs slowly rubbing up and down mine, that I realized I was humping up against her in the same rhythm with which she'd been gently tugging at me. I pulled back a little, breaking the kiss, at which she came up to lap at my lips a couple of times before burrowing her face in my neck. She sighed, pulled her hands out of my sleeves and wrapped her arms around my waist instead.
'I want you in my bed.' It was out before I could think about it, but it felt right.
'I want you in me.' She kept her face in my neck, but moved her hands to my butt, and tugged.
'Oh fuck, yeah...' The weird catch in my voice when I said that, didn't even embarrass me. For a moment I clung to her a little harder, but that wasn't getting us to the bedroom, so I took her face in both my hands and kissed her some more, but more passionate this time. I grabbed behind me to take one of her hands, bit gently at her lips a couple of times before stepping back and tugging.
'Come, come with me, take your bag along and come.'
She took her bag and followed my lead to the little corridor, up the stairs, to my bedroom, to my bed. I sat on the bed and scrambled backwards onto it, pulling her along. She dumped the bag on the floor before following me, straddling me, until I was all the way up the bed, with her over me, both grinning like idiots and she took both my hands, moved them up (and I happily let her), pushed them down in the pillow on either side of my head and started kissing me. She had her hips over mine, but I wanted contact, so I dug my heels in and pushed my hips off the bed. She let me rub my crotch against her for a while before settling her weight on me and pushing me down. I only wriggled and squirmed so I could feel her pushing me down all the better. I felt that maybe she'd want me to flip her onto her back, because she was making those impatient sounds again, but when she pushed herself up it was to say, 'I want to get naked, let me see you, let me feel your skin.'
She sat up, let go of my hands, pulled her t-shirt over her head, unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and jumped off the bed to wriggle out of them. Seeing her hurrying like that, got me moving. I shed my t-shirt and started to work on my jeans, but was presented with a problem when I tried to lose them. I still had my Chucks on, where she'd worn shoes that she could kick off along with the jeans. I sat there, feeling ridiculous, with a flushed face, trying to untie my laces while my jeans were bunched up around my ankles.
I was so concentrated on that, that I didn't notice her crawling up to me. She easily unbalanced me by pushing at my shoulders, which made me fall backwards. She kept her hands on my shoulders and her weight on her hands while she straddled me again. She leaned forward and whispered, 'I'll help you with those.'
I yelped at the lap she gave my ear, before she moved to straddle me the other way around. I was presented with her backside, clad only in panties, hovering above my stomach, and while she was busy with my laces, I started kneading her butt-cheeks. First over the panties, but by the time she'd removed the Chucks from my feet and had started to get my jeans off, I wriggled my fingers inside them. When I softly moved my thumbs over the crotch of her panties, I felt it was quite damp. We moaned simultaneously and she had to pause what she was doing for a moment.
It was when I stroked her crotch again, that she cursed loudly, pushed herself up and tugged on my jeans hard to make them come off in one pull. She threw the jeans away, turned around quickly and locked onto my mouth to kiss me fiercely. I was so incredibly turned on, I wrapped my arms around her and flipped her onto her back. She went immediately, hooked her legs over mine and rubbed her crotch up and down my cock with short, frantic movements.
She moved her mouth from mine to puff out little, 'oh... oh... oh... oh...' sounds. Then she started squirming under me, 'Fuck, stop, I... My bag, let me get my bag.'
I pushed myself up a little and searched for where her bag was. It was right beside the bed, so I leaned over and grabbed it. 'Here you go...'
She tried to rummage through her bag, but the angle was awkward and I didn't have the presence of mind to get off her, so after a few seconds she said 'Jesus fuck...!', upturned the bag and emptied it on the bed. With some quick ruffling through the contents, she found what she was looking for.
When I moved to pick the condom from her, she said, 'No, I'll do it.' She squirmed around, I got off her and lay on my back, my hands raised a bit in a gesture of surrender, grinning up at her. She got on her knees, lay the condom on my stomach and started tugging my boxers down my legs. When she'd gotten them past my feet and thrown on the floor, she moved both hands gently up my legs again, stroking softly, right up to where my cock lay twitching expectantly. She straddled my legs, took the package, ripped it, took the condom out and rolled it over my cock. When she was done, she crawled up to me. She lay beside me, with one leg over mine, her face close to mine, noses touching. She nipped at my lips, then turned onto her back.
'Help me with my panties?'
So this time it was me moving down her body, getting her panties off of her. I crawled up between her legs and lay down. For a while we just kissed again, very thoroughly and not holding back on the moaning and whimpering. We both seemed to be quite vocal in that way. When she moved her legs even more open and up, I looked at her and asked, 'Let me in?'
'Oh yes...' she breathed.
I leaned up on my elbows, and she moved her hands down between us, to guide me. I slowly sank into her warmth, until I was fully sheathed, breathtakingly deep inside her, feeling my balls snug against her butt, because she'd drawn her legs up even more. She moved her hands to my butt and pulled a little, encouragingly. I moved. With every few slow thrusts, I kissed her face. Her cheeks, her nose, her mouth. I'd just land kisses where I could reach her. When I kissed her mouth, she'd kiss back, or nip at my lips. Sometimes she'd close her eyes, but every time she opened them again and we would look at each other. It was incredibly intimate.
I wasn't sure how long I would last and was determined to stretch this as long as I could manage and give a warning when I'd feel I couldn't hold on much longer. Before I passed that point however she wriggled her hand between us. I bent my back a bit, to give her room, which also gave me the opportunity to push up more at each upward stroke, so her clit would be stimulated from both sides, as she started rubbing herself. She hummed softly to herself, with closed eyes.
When she opened them again, she looked at me, unfocused, her mouth slightly open, letting short huffs escape while she started snapping her hips up faster. I watched her breathlessly as I sped up too, pushing up and in hard and fast now. With a long, keening moan she let go. I felt her orgasm ripple through her, and I only realized how close I'd been myself, when the sight and feel of her unraveling under and around me was enough to make me let go and shudder through my own release. I bucked a couple of times more, helpless to hold back and she reacted with aftershocks and some more high whimpering.
I collapsed on top of her and she clung to me. We were both panting and started giggling when even more aftershocks rippled through us. 'Jesus...' She said. 'That was... fuck... jesus...' I just moaned with my face pressed against her throat.
She slowly let her legs down, which reminded me that there was some business to attend to.
'I'm sorry, let me...' I came up, leaned on one arm, carefully took my condom clad dick and slowly pulled out. We both whimpered at the feeling and giggled about that. I moved off the bed to go to the bathroom. It's never the most charming moment when a man has to take a condom off his half-hard dick, and I prefer to do it in private if I can. So I took care of business, washed my hands and went back to the bedroom.
She'd put on clean panties and was putting all her stuff back into her bag, safe for some clothes she'd hung out over a chair. I realized her bra hadn't come off during our love making. Neither had my socks for that matter, so I was standing there in nothing but my socks. She looked up at me. 'I think I'd like a drink now, if the offer still stands.'
'Yeah, good idea.' I said, while I picked a pair of clean boxers from my drawers. 'I could use a smoke too. Do you mind if I smoke? I could go outside for that.'
'It's your apartment.'
'I know, but if it bothers you I don't mind going outside.'
She walked towards me, still only in bra and panties and looking astonishing.
Feeling astonishing too. She wrapped her arms around me, and I let mine slip around her. She kissed me and said. 'It doesn't bother me when you smoke.'
We kissed some more and after a while we put on some clothes and headed for the kitchen for drinks and my smoke and I even found crackers and cheese I keep in stock for when I have an appetite for a late night snack. We talked and laughed and when we went to bed we cuddled, which turned into lovemaking and the next morning I got my slow morning sex. We spent the whole Sunday together and although she didn't officially check out of her hotel until the end of her stay in Prague, all of her things ended up in my apartment, and she spent every night with me.
So I'm sitting here, trying to be rational about it. We had a damn nice time in Prague, but we agreed that with the whole East-coast/West-coast thing and with the lives we're each living, trying to have a steady relationship would not work. She booked a week extra when the others left Prague, which was great, but, frankly, it also made it even more difficult when she left and I saw her out at the airport. We hugged and kissed and wished each other well and wished she could stay longer and fuck it, we weren't going to make any definite promises but when I got back, I would contact her. We could hang out.
The Internet is a wonderful thing. We've been emailing daily. Cheerful emails. But I just got one to which she'd added a short PS. It read 'I'm afraid I miss you and I'm not even sure if I should have said that.'
In a couple of days I'll be done shooting here, and I can go home. But I'm thinking of maybe staying here for another two weeks. I could ask her to come over, since she's not touring with the band at the moment anyway, so she could have time. I checked and it turned out I could stay in this apartment a little longer. She could stay here if she'd like. I wonder if she'd mind if I pay for her ticket.