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“So the focus has to be on the feet,” Greg starts saying the moment he spots me. He’s shepherding us both on set, motioning for me to sit. “Cross your legs and sort of rock your foot back and forth. That’s right. Like that. Brice, you need to aim to try three pairs of shoes on her. But each time make the process a little slower. A little more sensual. After the third time, go for it.”
“Any lines?” he grunts.
“We’re ad-libbing for this one. But my advice is if you don’t know what to say, just keep your mouth shut. Let your bodies do all the talking. Especially her feet.”
We nod at Greg, still refusing to look at each other.
It takes half an hour of adjusting camera angles, testing audio levels, and moving around lighting before Greg is happy to move forward with our first take. Brice and I have been sitting in silence this whole time, refusing to acknowledge the other’s existence.
All the time has given me space to think. What I’ve figured out is that Brice has no reason to be angry with me. He’s just being a baby because he couldn’t get his way. If only he’d never mentioned our relationship and where we go from here, we’d still be good. We wouldn’t have to fight like this. We could have slept in the same bed last night, enjoying each other’s warmth.
But he had to go and make it weird.
“Ready to go?” Greg calls out, clapping his hands, trying to drum up the energy that’s obviously absent in the air between Brice and me. Greg then rolls his hands and says, “Alright, here we go. Cue!”
Brice pulls the sandals I’m wearing off my feet. Opens a box and pulls out a pair of black pumps. “Do you know what you want?” he asks while holding up the shoes. At first, I’m not sure if he’s talking in character or as Brice. “Because I have a good feeling I know exactly what you need.”
I clear my head with a simple shake that I play off as not being into the heels. “Actually, I’m not sure what I’m looking for today. But it’s certainly not this. How about something in red?”
Brice nods his head as if that makes perfect sense. He places the black pumps back in their box and reaches for another. From this one he produces a glittery pair of flats. They make me think of the shoes Dorothy steals from the Wicked Witch.
Playing his part to perfection, Brice slips the shoes on with one hand while rubbing my calves with the other. As confused and angry as I am with him, the sensation of his skin against mine—rubbing a little higher each time, reaching up to my thighs and just under the hem of my skirt—is enough to send shivers across my being, clouding over any lingering thoughts of last night’s talk.
We don’t make it to the third pair of shoes. With the second pair, he only gets one shoe on me before he takes my bare left foot and brings it to his mouth. He begins sucking on my pinky toe, licking it while it’s in his mouth.
Now, I’ve never been one for foot stuff. It just always seemed a bit silly. But I’m taking it seriously now that a guy is really working this unexplored (at least for me) erogenous zone. His lips slowly travel up my toes. He’s supporting my foot with one hand while using his other to graze up my inner thigh. His thumb eventually caresses the edge of my panties, just barely touching my clit, but that’s enough to send me over the edge.
The divide from last night falls away as I literally leap across the distance and mount him. I doubt this is what Greg had in mind for this scene, but I don’t care anymore. This isn’t about making good videos, and any section of my rational brain concerned with that or the money evaporates under the heat of the endorphins raging across my body.
Brice goes right along with me, making me hope that all of this nonsense we’ve been fighting about is behind us for now. That we can move on and enjoy these new pleasures.
I don’t bother removing clothes. Instead I hike my skirt up, move my panties to the side, and—after pulling an extremely erect cock from Brice’s pants—slide down over him. During all of this, I’m dimly aware of the cameramen pulling in for close-ups and standing so near that I can practically feel their breath on the back of my neck.
But I don’t care.
All I can do is rush towards the wondrous oblivion that only Brice’s body can provide. I think that’s what has led me to take charge of this first scene since our fight. Brice doesn’t need another reenactment of yesterday’s sensual filming. It could too easily be misconstrued as the beginnings of love. No, he needs to see that this is nothing but carnal lust fulfilled by two friends hoping to enjoy life and earn some money along the way.
Maybe, just maybe, it will develop into something deeper. But I’m not ready for that step just yet. So Brice needs to slow down his heart while letting his libido rip full throttle.
Due to my fervor, we’re both approac
hing orgasm far faster than usual. Brice has pulled me down on top of him, but I close my eyes when he tries to catch my gaze. And when he moves to rub his hands up and down my back, I pop back into a sitting position. This has to be all about the sex. No signs of further affection.
Quivers run down my legs when I orgasm first, my fingernails digging into his chest. He keeps pumping despite my sensitivity, which soon throws me forward into another cresting wave that ends in both of us continuing to hump each other even after Greg calls, “Cut!”
Once the cameras have stopped recording, I breathe out, “Are we good?” After that little performance, I don’t know how we couldn’t be good again, but I have to check.
“Sure, we’re good,” he says, but his tone says otherwise. As does his body language. He doesn’t help me up. Doesn’t give me a little peck to seal our argument in the past. His whole aura is stiff, as though he were talking to a coworker, not a friend. “We’re friends with benefits. That’s all. Just like you said.”
That is what I said I wanted (for now, at least), but the way he’s saying it gives the words a different meaning. When I said that, I meant it as a way for us to come closer, but his rendition of my words only manages to push us apart.
“Yeah,” is all I manage to get out before he’s turned his back on me and walked over to Greg.
“Was that take good?” Brice asks. “Can we move onto the next scene?”
“Sure, sure,” Greg is saying. “That was absolutely beautiful. I really loved the passion. You two are really bringing your A-game.”
Brice nods at this and walks out into the hallway towards the changing room. He doesn’t look towards me or wait for me. For the first time I wonder if I’m the one screwing this all up, not him. Because there’s a definite wall between us, and I’m not sure which of us put it there.
