Unscripted love

41. Suspended Times

January 2019

Can

I say goodbye one last time to my colleagues who have come, like me, to support this charity. A basketball game. A gift of self for a good cause, a sporting break between two takes. I don't have time to stay for the round of applause, the glasses of champagne and the lunch. I can't complain, living at a hundred miles an hour is what I've always wanted, me, the hyperactive impatient.

After the year-end break, everything started up again at full speed, leaving us hardly any time to breathe, one day a week.

But my oxygen is elsewhere. In Demet's eyes, smiles, caresses and words. The feeling of her skin against mine when I wake up, my fingers running over her body... there are routines I can't do without.

With my hair still damp, I arrive on the set. I pass through the hands of the hairdressers, make-up artists and prop makers and I'm ready to go from Yaman to Divit in a few minutes. I see Demet in the distance, in the guise of Sanem...or is it the other way round?

With a smile on her face, I follow her for a few seconds with my eyes before rushing into the small room where we usually meet when the shoot is at the agency.

Barely a minute later, I hear a clap. They've finished shooting the scene.

The handle slowly drops and the outside light comes in to illuminate the room. My hand grabs a forearm and I slam her body against the wall, quickly enough to close the latch behind her without her even thinking about resisting me.

I close my eyes and lean my head into the back of her neck. I breathe in her scent and sigh, letting my breath caress her skin at the base of her neck. I feel the chills on her arms, her breathing changing, her heart racing.

"I missed you..."

"Caaaan..."

She puts her hand on my right cheek and forces me to look into her eyes. The softness of her gaze soothes all my expectations. Her caress drags on and I slide a little harder against the palm of her hand, closing my eyes to better appreciate the moment.

On tiptoe, she pulls herself up and kisses me, our lips barely brushing, taking the time to savor each other. My hand then travels to the back of her neck and I press her harder against me. Our kiss becomes more primal, wild, impatient. Our faces wet with our mixed saliva betray the desire that hovers throughout the room.

Outside, the city shines through the bay windows.

A few muffled sighs give way to timid moans. I can hardly control myself. My whole body flares up and my erection presses against her overdressed body. She undulates against me and in an uncontrollable rush I grab each of her buttocks and lift her up, pinning her between me and the wall. Her head tilts back, giving me better access to the soft, fragrant skin of her neck.

One of my hands lifts her skirt and starts to caress her crotch.

"Oh, we can't, there's not even a latch..."

"Shhhh..."

I grumble a few incomprehensible words, I don't want to stop. Demet resists me and the few knocks on the door finally get the better of my determination. I sigh, resigned.

"Never a moment to ourselves..."

I put Demet back down, step back and smile at her. She places a light kiss, much more chaste than the ones we shared a few seconds ago. I put back a few strands of her hair, martyred by my assaults, and I smile stupidly...the make-up and hairdressers will have to do it again. In terms of discretion, we have done better.