Lush Life

Late March 2019.

I wasn't even supposed to be here. Ana had called in a favor.

"It's just one day," she promised. "They're behind on reshoots and Netflix needs your help for Sabrina."

So I said yes. By the time I pulled into the lot, my head was still half in the pile of spec scripts at home. The studio doors creaked open to that familiar chill of artificial fog, spotlight haze, and something eerily theatrical. Soundstage 4 had been fully converted with dark cathedrals, stained-glass backdrops, and bolted down pews. It looked more like a haunted opera than a teen drama set.

The assistant who met me muttered a run down of the schedule and waved me toward a monitor in the corner before scurrying off. I didn't blame her. The whole crew looked drained. Then I saw her standing in the corner of the room. Kiernan Shipka.

She was in full costume with black tights, a lace collar, and that sharp little red coat. She hadn't seen me yet. She was talking to a sound guy then she glanced up for just a second. In that second, she smiled. Not a full one and not Sabrina Spellman's cutesy smirk. Just enough of a twitch to say, 'Oh. It's you.'

I nodded back, trying to be professional and stay detached. The key word is trying. She approached between takes.

"Hi," she said softly. "I'm Kiernan."

She reached her hand out. I took it. A firm shake, but it lingered just a second too long. Her fingers were warm despite the studio's chill, and when she smiled up at me, there was that same twitch from earlier.

"Jason," I said. "Just here to supervise the chaos."

"Better you than some suit," she replied, laughing lightly and letting her fingers finally fall from mine. "Everyone's been tense all week."

"You don't seem tense."

"That's because I like chaos." Kiernan said with a slight tilt of her head. Before I could ask her what that meant, she tugged at the collar of her coat. She didn't make a show of it, just a simple unfastening of the top button, a shift of her shoulder, and then the coat slid off. Underneath it she wore a double off-the-shoulder red sweater that exposed her bare collarbones, her pale shoulders and hints of her bra straps.

She draped the coat across the pew behind her, then smoothed her sleeves casually.

"I heard you're the reason Ana landed her distributor," she said, eyes back on me. "You two go way back, right?"

I nodded, trying to keep my gaze somewhere above her neck.

"Something like that."

Kiernan took a small step closer. "Well. I guess that makes you the one to impress." she said with a sly smile.

*

The director called for positions and Kiernan gave me a soft, professional nod before walking off. I moved to the monitors, keeping a respectable distance. The scene was a basic one, Sabrina walking into the Academy, stopping at the steps, lighting some cursed candle before the next line, nothing sexy about it on paper.

But then the cameras rolled. Kiernan entered from frame left, her heels clacking, her sweater shifting as she moved. She paused just inside the threshold, the flickering candlelight creating show shadows up her neck. Then she looked up, not at the camera, not at her co-star. At my monitor.

It lasted half a second. Maybe less. But it seemed to be meant for me and me alone. The flame in her hand caught, and she said her line with that sweet, sing-song voice of hers. The take ended. The crew clapped. The director nodded. I stayed silent.

*

I found a quiet spot by the coffee cart between setups. Most of the crew had scattered, the soundstage doors propped open to let in some air. I leaned against a table near the monitors, sipping a bitter cup and trying to stay focused on my job.

She found me anyway.

"Working hard?" Kiernan's voice came from over my shoulder. I turned slightly. She'd changed into a long black robe between takes, her makeup still fresh.

"Trying to," I said.

She stepped beside me, watching the feed on the monitor. Her arms folded neatly, the way someone does when they're trying not to look too comfortable. But her mouth curved with something sly.

"I've heard some... interesting things about you," she said casually. "Industry chatter."

I kept my eyes on the screen. "Oh yeah?"

"All good things. Mostly. Though..." She bit her lips gently, turning herself to face me. "There's a particular kind of buzz that follows you around. Very niche."

"Buzz?" I asked.

Kiernan shrugged.

"You know. Rumors about your... creative input. Off-camera." She tapped the screen once, where the shot froze on her candlelit close-up. "Especially when working with actresses who are, let's say, enthusiastically engaged with the material."

She looked up at me, still looking innocent.

I set my cup down slowly. "You sure that's not just Hollywood paranoia?"

"Mm. Maybe." She tilted her head, her blonde waves brushing her cheek. "But I've been doing this a while. I know the difference between gossip and pattern recognition."

That made me smile. I stepped closer, just enough to make her tilt her chin to meet my eyes. I raised my hand gently and tapped the tip of her nose with my finger.

"Careful, I'm the king of talking slick."

Her grin cracked wide

"That a warning?"

"A courtesy."

Kiernan laughed softly and took a step back. The air between us had already shifted. She didn't say anything more, walking off with her coffee as her hips swayed beneath that robe.

*

The crew packed up around 1 a.m. A few grips lingered to strike the lighting rigs, but the director waved me off with a tired thumbs-up. "We'll pick back up in the morning," he said. "You've got the production room upstairs. Sorry, it's... themed."

I wasn't sure what he meant until I got there. The room was tucked above the soundstage, past a narrow stairwell with creaky wooden steps and a velvet curtain that might've been stolen from a haunted mansion. The 'office' was more like a set piece than an actual workspace. It had an antique, but electric fireplace, a dark wooden desk with clawed legs, and a goddamn bear skin rug to top it off.

All that was missing was a typewriter and a storm outside.

I tossed my jacket over the chair, pulled out my laptop, and queued up footage from the day. Kiernan's scenes. I shot Ana a quick text, just letting her know I'd be on set all night. Then I leaned back in the creaky chair and hit play. The scene flickered to life, watching Kiernan recite her spell.

Then footsteps broke the silence. I paused the video and turned toward the door. A soft knock. Three small taps before the door creaked open slowly.

"Still working?"

Her voice floated in before she did, amused like she already knew the answer. I stood up halfway, caught between professional instinct and something deeper in my gut. Then she stepped in fully.

She wore sleek black heels, making her maybe two inches taller than I remembered. A black pencil skirt hugged her hips with tight, clean lines. Up top she wore that same red sweater, but this time no straps were visible.

The neckline rested off both of her shoulders just a tad bit lower than before, the visible weight of her breasts pushing against the fabric clear as day. She crossed her arms when she entered, not to cover herself but to press her sweater tighter across her chest.

"I couldn't sleep. The fake fog kept leaking through my trailer vents." She said,

"So you decided to come back to the haunted office?" I asked.

She smiled, stepping in and closing the door without asking.

"You're the only person still awake. Figured you wouldn't mind the company." Kiernan said as she took in the room with a grin.

"Should I be worried?" I asked, folding my arms. "This isn't standard lead actress behavior."

Kiernan turned to face me, her lips twitching like she'd been waiting for that question.

"No. This is after-hours lead actress behavior." She took one more step toward the desk, placing a hand on the hardwood. "Where the cameras stop rolling and the professionals really... lock in."

I exhaled sharply through my nose.

"Let me guess," I said, circling towards her. "You've been hearing stories."

"Yup," She leaned forward slightly, tapping her fingers. "More like whispers. I've heard you've ruined sleep schedules."

Her eyes flicked up to mine.

"They all sounded... very impressed."

I smiled and stepped closer. Before I could help it, I reached out and tapped the tip of her nose again.

"You've done your homework, but as I told you before, I'm the king of talking slick."

"You're not slick," she laughed boldly. "You're just good."

She stepped in. There was only a foot between us now. I caught a whiff of her perfume. The fire flickered behind her, casting warm light up her exposed collarbone and neck. She reached up slowly and adjusted her sweater like it had fallen too low. I looked down and she caught me.

"Gotcha," she smirked.

I didn't usually cross lines like this. Not on someone else's set. Not in an office that technically wasn't mine. I stepped forward and looked her dead in the eyes.

"If I'm going to get involved in... extracurricular activities. Especially in a borrowed office with a bearskin rug, I'm not playing games." I growled.

"I'm not here to play." Kiernan said with a subtle shift in her eyes.

Then, without breaking eye contact, she stepped back just a bit. Her hands went down to her heels, slipping them off one at a time. She then reached behind herself and adjusted the back of her pencil skirt. The fabric crept a few inches higher, hugging tighter to her hips and revealing the soft, pale curves underneath.

"So," she said, stepping forward. "Are you going to participate or just supervise?"

I stepped forward, close enough that the bulge in my pants pressed against her stomach. She hardly reacted. She actually tilted her head up slightly. I stared down at her.

"What exactly have you heard about me?"

Her eyes flicked down to my hardness poking her, then back up to me, a slight blush growing on her face. She smiled slowly. Her hands lifted, one to my hip, the other to the waistband. Her movements were soft at first, then she got firmer as she began to trace the line of my belt.

"I've heard that you make it last..." Her fingers slid down the front of my slacks, pressing lightly against my bulge. Then her hands slid further down, tracing the inseam and pressing into my thighs as she slowly lowered herself to her knees with no hesitation. Her knees brushed the rug, her skirt stretched tight across the tops of her thighs. She looked up at me from below, her hands now resting on either side of my legs.

"I also heard you're quite thankful." Kiernan grinned, dragging her hands up and over the thick tent in my slacks until her nails stopped just shy of my zipper.

She didn't wait for permission. Her fingers found the buckle of my belt and slid it open without a word. The fire popped once in the background as she worked slowly. The button came next. Then the zipper. I let out a deep breath as Kiernan reached in with both hands, her bare palms squeezing firmly around my cock through the fabric.

Then she freed me, my cock springing forward with a lewd bounce. Kiernan didn't gasp or giggle. She just stared for a second.

"Jesus," she murmured. Her hands wrapped around the base, her thumb dragging slowly along the underside. "They weren't exaggerating."

I didn't say a word as her breath ghosted over the head, her lips hovering a whisper away as she stroked me slowly. I throbbed in her tight, feminine hands as my hips twitched slightly. She noticed. Her eyes flicked up to mine as her lips curled into a pleased smile.

"So you tremble..." Kiernan mumbled.

Before I could answer, she dove right in, wrapping her lips around the head. Her tongue pressed under the tip as she took my cock into her mouth. Her hands held my cock steady, stroking and squeezing with tender tugs, her fingers now slick with her own spit as she worked. She moaned softly around me as I gripped the desk behind me, trying not to lose it right there.

Kiernan giggled as best she could around my cock, then she worked me deeper. Her lips stretched around me as her tongue glided along the underside. She moaned low in her throat as she pulled back, then slid forward again with just a little more force, both of her hands now sloppily twisting and turning to make even more of a mess. She twisted and bobbed her head along with her now sticky palms in a perfect, precise rhythm, her eyes locked onto me as she stared upwards.

Just as I started to lose myself, she pulled back. A sticky, wet pop echoed in the quiet room as she let my cock fall from her lips, dragging her tongue across the tip with a smile.

"Wow," she whispered, still stroking me with both hands, slow and smooth. "I thought someone with your rep would have less knee-buckling."

The smirk on her face was wicked. I looked down at her, her bare knees on the rug, that pencil skirt hiked high, the sweater barely clinging to her shoulders. I stepped forward, placing both hands into her hair, and guided my cock back into her mouth.

I eased past her lips and felt her exhale through her nose. She took my cock into her throat inch by inch, until the head tapped the back. I held her there for a second, feeling her muscles tighten around my shaft. Kiernan blinked strongly then moaned. I pushed deeper, her throat opening up and accepting me with ease.

"Knees still feel strong?" I smirked. She moaned again, both of her hands coming up from her thighs to grip mine. Her eyes shot up to me, watery and wide as my cock stretched her lips. I loosened my grip on her head to give her a chance to breathe. She pulled back slowly with strands of spit clinging from her lips to my cock in messy, warbly lines.

"More," she huffed. I gripped her hair again, guiding my wet cock back to her eager lips. This time I moved faster and slid deeper. I glided in smoothly, the spit already slicking her throat. Her lips sealed around me and I could feel her adjust, tilting her head to let me slide in and out with a rhythm now. Her hands gripped my thighs for balance, her throat working around me like she was savoring every motion.

The room was quiet except for the fire crackling and the wet sounds of my cock digging into her throat with sloppy, soaking wet thrusts. Every pull-back trailed a longer string of spit that clung to my cock like silk before vanishing between her lips again. Then, just as I pulled halfway out, she reached up with one hand, gripped the edge of her red sweater, and dragged it down, right over her perky, pale tits.

They spilled free in the firelight, flushed from the heat of the room and her own body. Her nipples were tight, pebbling from the cool air and from the sheer arousal written all over her face. She looked up as she held the sweater bunched beneath her tits, breathing heavy through her nose while I filled her mouth. My cock pulsed hard in her throat.

"You're unreal... Goddamn Kiernan..." I groaned, nearly losing my balance.

Spit dripped down her chin now, thick and shiny drops that made her chest glisten. Slick trails slinked from her lips, dripping down to coat the top of her tits as I used her mouth. Kiernan didn't pull back, she leaned into it. Thrust after thrust, slow and deep, feeling her throat spasm as I bottomed out again. Her moans were quiet but constant now, muffled by the sheer size in her mouth and every one of them sent vibrations down my shaft that nearly undid me.

She pulled off with a sharp gasp, strings of spit webbed between her lips and the head of my cock. She didn't give me time to recover. She wrapped both of her hands around me immediately, slick with spit, twisting in opposite directions like she was wringing my groans out of me. Kiernan went faster, lightning fast. Her wrists flicked in perfect rhythm, curling and dragging up every inch with maddening precision. Spit flew in tiny arcs, her hands too eager to stay neat. I was right on the brink, but then she stopped.

Kiernan slowed her hands, still stroking but with more pressure.

"Show me," she whispered. "Show me how strong you are."

She didn't flinch as I grabbed her. I lifted her straight off the floor by her sides, her thighs curling instinctively around me as I walked her back to the desk. She gasped as her ass hit the edge. I kissed her, hard and deep. She moaned against my mouth as I pulled back just enough to speak.

"You sure?" I asked, already reaching for the hem of her skirt.

Kiernan smiled and beat me to it. Her hands gripped the waistband, yanked it up, and ripped. A clean tear right up the center seam, splitting the pencil skirt open like tissue paper. She spread her thighs with the motion, revealing the smooth skin underneath.

"Please," she shrugged. "We've got hundreds of these."

I stared for just a second before I dropped to my knees. I placed my hands on her thighs, the torn skirt barely clinging to her waist. I saw her black panties, thin and seamless, the dampness making it cling to her skin like silk. I reached up, hooked a finger into the waistband, and gave one clean tug.

They tore right down the middle.

Kiernan gasped. "Jeez man, I don't have hundreds of those."

I looked up at her with a smile.

"I'll buy you some."

She smiled back, biting her bottom lip and tilting her head towards me in silent permission. I leaned in. My lips found the inside of her thigh first and I kissed there, letting my mouth linger, tasting her sweat and heat. My tongue flicked just above her pussy, then I went lower, leaving a wet trail as I moved inward.

My mouth found her warm and soaked folds. I licked her slowly, tongue dragging flat and deep, savoring the slick mess between her legs. Kiernan moaned loud now, one leg draping over my shoulder as she bucked her hips into my mouth. I groaned into her, the taste of her flooding my tongue. Then I closed my lips around her clit, soft at first, just a little pressure to make her gasp.

I pulled back and kissed her again, lower this time, then licked a slow circle up the center of her pussy, letting her feel every inch of my tongue. My hands gripped her thighs tight, anchoring her as she writhed on the desk.

"Fuck... Jason..." she whimpered. I smiled into her soaked slit and went back in. Her breathing sped up. I felt it in her thighs at first. My tongue flicked slow and precise, tracing every swollen inch of her delicious pussy, circling her clit just the way I knew would make her explode.

"Fuck! Please! Don't be gentle..." Kiernan cried. I looked up at her.

"I can... I can take it..." she huffed.

I gripped her thighs tighter, pinning her down. Then I buried my mouth into her pussy. I devoured her, my lips tight, my tongue flicking fast and ruthless over her clit, pressing hard with just the right pressure, grinding in tiny circles.

"HAAAAH!" Kiernan screamed, one hand flying to my hair and gripping tight.

I didn't stop. Her thighs shook under my hands, her legs twitching open wider and then locking around my shoulders.

"Don't stop! Ohhh fuck don't stop!"

I moaned into her, the vibration pulling another gasp from her lips. Her body writhed beneath my mouth, every muscle clenching as she grinded her hips helplessly against my face. She was right there, right on the edge. I pulled back just a fraction, not to stop, but to tease.

"Dude... Please... Let me cummm... Please..." Kiernan panted.

I did as I was told. I locked my arms around her thighs, pulled her hard against my mouth, and finished what I started. My tongue worked fast and ruthless, every stroke pressing tight against her clit with perfect rhythm. I flattened it, flicked it, then sucked twice.

"Ohhh FUCK! ohmygod..."

Kiernan arched off the desk, her thighs clamping hard around my head, her whole body trembling in wild spasms. I kept going as she came, slowly but not fully pulling back yet. Her hands flailed before grabbing fistfuls of my hair, her heels kicking once, then freezing in place as her orgasm crashed down over her like a tidal wave.