Chapter 35 Watching
Watching
BAZ
Lanie did her rounds while I kept to myself at the bar.
The crew and stars were in their prime of social interactions—taking over a spot not far from their filming grounds.
Lanie dazzled in some tiny mini dress. She never lacked flash clothes.
I loved watching her in her element. She returned, reaching for me with her left hand—her ring finger noticeably bare.
“Come with me. Don’t be a fun suck, Baz?”
I chuckled. “I’m not. I’m quite alright.”
She pouted.
“Really. You do as you do. I like to watch you, Lady Osgoode.”
Lanie bit her lip. “You’re naughty.”
“And you’re mine,” I said.
Lanie pulled back, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulder.
“You should wear your ring.”
“He’s suddenly possessive,” she noted as if I were a character in a story she narrated.
“You’re my wife, Lanie.”
“It’s stored properly,” she promised. “I have to take it off for filming.”
“Be mindful.”
Lanie rolled her eyes, taunting me.
I pulled her close to me, gripping her by the hips. “Mind yourself. Be a good girl, Lanie. Go on, mingle.”
With a firm slap on the ass, I sent her back out to the party. If people saw us, I didn’t care. If she were any other woman, I assumed she’d have been mortified. Instead, she thrived on admonishment. I worried I might never find another woman who’d put up with this kink—or even drive it as she did.
Lanie passed by the Sam fellow—her idiotic ex.
I assumed there was more to that story. She said he didn’t want children, but it was never just that.
It certainly wasn’t that way with my friends.
There was usually someone else. But, this time, as I watched his eyes follow her around the bar, I began to feel pangs of jealousy.
Unsatisfied with voyeurism, he approached.
Sidling up to the bar, Sam’s arm grazed her hip.
He then pretended as if it were a mistake, chuckling.
She merely nodded, talking to the bartender.
As the bartender worked on his drink, he chatted with her.
I wondered what his line was? Was it any good.
She smiled and blushed about something. Was she flirting with him?
This prick got hours a day with Lanie. I decided to set him straight. He wasn’t about to move in on her just because they were together on set.
“Lanie,” I approached.
She turned, stopping mid-sentence. Sam looked at me, annoyed.
“Apologies, but could I butt in? Just need a refill.”
I set an empty rocks glass down on the bar top. “Order me whatever you think is good, darling.”
“Alright,” Lanie peered over the bar and pointing at her glass. “Can I get second one of these?”
The bartender nodded affirmatively.
Looping my arm around Lanie’s waist, I turned to Sam. “So, Sam what do you do? I never asked.”
“I’m the DP or cinematographer,” Sam answered. “Not something you always find on a TV set, but when you have Leah Roughy level bankroll, you can afford to be picky.”
He sipped his drink, hoping I was impressed. Lanie shot me a questioning look.
The wanker turned back to Lanie and gestured with his drink, “Did you tell him how we met?”
“No,” Lanie said. “We generally don’t talk about things like that.”
“Oh, it’s good,” Sam chuckled. “We were filming together in LA. It was this little indie movie. I had to set up this scene on a pool deck. The problem? We were under the gun to get it done in a pinch before weather. There was about time for approximately one take. I meet the actress playing a one-night-stand the main character is hooking up with. She’s this young actress, the director says.
I immediately doubt she can pull it off. Then, I met her.”
He gave her a boyish grin. “I was wholly unprepared for the tornado that is Lanie Day. She comes in, does the scene with no direction. I have no notes. The director is happy. The camera loves her. And I’m like… that girl will be famous someday. Then, I gave her my number and she didn’t call me.”
“I didn’t have time. I was back here for three months,” Lanie insisted. “It wasn’t some snub.”
“She’s definitely hard to ignore,” I said.
“Well, especially then. She’s good at projecting sexpot. It worked great in that scene. Of course, it took you… what? Seven years to strip naked. We’ve really upped the game on this shoot.”
Lanie’s face dropped. She stared at her toes.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“She didn’t tell you? This whole show has a lot of nudity. Lanie is the lead. It’s the first time you’ve done it, isn’t it?” Sam looked at me, not Lanie.
I resisted reacting to his provocation, but my face gave away my disdain.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Sam laughed. “You didn’t tell him, Lanie?”
“I… it was the part,” Lanie said. “I never did it before Dad died. Baz, it wasn’t—”
“So, you think it’s cute… you seeing my wife naked and commenting on it?” I asked. “As if it’s… what? Sexy? For you?”
I stepped forward, standing taller than ever. He was short in comparison and began to show his nerves at the prospect of fisticuffs.
Lanie said nothing. She stared in disbelief at the standoff.
Sam shook his head, raised his hands, and backed up. “It’s just business.”
“That’s what I thought,” I backed off slightly. “Because that would be unprofessional, wouldn’t it?”
“Of… of course,” Sam said.
“You’d not want me to say anything to Ms. Roughy about that, either. That would be dreadful for your career.” I invoked his boss’s name.
My drink arrived. Lanie handed it to me, still silent.
I sucked down the whiskey, neat as they both watched me, waiting for me to lose it in jealousy. I’d never give Sam that satisfaction. And while I could play it up with Lanie for fun later, I’d never lose my cool here. Doing so showed weakness.
“We should go,” I told Lanie. “See you later, Sam!”
I nodded.
Lanie said goodbye to everyone, my hand on the small of her back as she navigated through the fray. Leah gave her a hug and waved us goodbye. We called our car and rushed into the rain together to get inside quickly. Then, once the doors were closed, we could chat.
“That was incredibly sexy,” Lanie said. “I want you to take me home and fuck me like you mean it. I love playing this game.”
I said, “You’ll get it as soon as we get in the door, Lady Osgoode.”
As much as I wanted to say it was a game, and I enjoyed the idea of sharing her for a minute only to take her home at the end of the evening, I couldn’t let it go.
Each time we did this, playtime gave way to something else.
I only wanted to share a few glimpses of her.
If it got beyond that, I couldn’t handle it.
Finding out her ex salivated over her naked body set me over the edge.
She wasn’t his to ogle. She was mine and mine alone.
LANIE
I freshened up after a long day of filming and changed into a piece of lingerie I bought at a boutique—in Wales of all places.
I made sure to pop my rings back on, trying to show Baz I did genuinely want to behave.
His aggro spat with Sam revved my engine, but I didn’t want him to think I was trying to hurt him.
There was something different about their interaction.
This wasn’t like when we went to a club and he watched me flirt.
There was some genuine threat in Baz’s voice when he leveled with Sam.
Once I returned to the bedroom, Baz sat in bed. I half expected I’d still find him in the living room or somewhere else—just leering. He’d gone traditional for this round.
“Come here,” he demanded.
I followed suit, climbing into bed.
He patted his lap. “Here.”
I hesitated, so he picked me up, pulling me like a rag doll until I lay over his lap—my ass in the air, basically on all fours.
“Are you going to misbehave again, Lanie?”
Oh, fuck.
He massaged my ass, lifting my chemise to reveal bare cheeks. I shivered.
“I… I won’t,” I lied, knowing full-well I loved to misbehave.
Baz smacked my ass, a loud clap filling the room. “You’re incapable of promising that.”
I bit my lip.
“You’re supposed to be a lady and you’re anything but.”
Another slap.
“Yes,” I moaned.
“Yes, what?”
“I will be a good girl, Baz.”
“Lady Osgoode, you’ve never been a good girl a day in your life. You don’t behave as a wife—my wife—should.”
I ate it up like candy. Every spanking got a little harder. It delighted me. I lived for him being so rough.
“I haven’t. I deserve punishment.”
“Get up!” Baz’s hand left my ass hot and a little sore—a prize for my misdeeds.
I moved aside.
“Suck my cock,” Baz growled. “Think of it as penance.”
“Yes, Baz,” I promised, straddling his leg.
His cock had been pressed tight up against my midsection moments before—hard, ready, hungry for me. I rolled my hand up and down it, staring at the precum lacing the head. I licked from the shaft up to the head, sucking the precum up before spitting it back on to his cock.
“Fuck,” Baz moaned.
I stopped, looking back.
“No, get to work,” Baz pressed my head down.
Taking him completely tested my gag reflex, but I did it. While I played fragile and submissive, I was powerful and owned him right now. With every bob of my head, I brought Baz closer. He gripped my hair tighter.
Slow, he moaned, “Oh, fuck, Lanie. Oh, good girl.”
I pulled back, wishing for more punishment and flirting with the idea of him cumming inside me. If I was ovulating, this would do me no good.
“You’re not finishing in my mouth,” I said.
“What?”
“I want you inside me. I need you inside me.”
“Then work for it,” Baz smacked my ass again.
“No. You should fuck me,” I said.
“For that, I won’t touch you at all,” Baz threatened.
I scowled.
“Get yourself off first. Show me you can do it yourself. Don’t be lazy, Lanie.”
He loved watching me get myself off. I’d never had a man request it, nor did I know why it felt so unusually vulnerable.
I’d just had his desperate cock inside my mouth for fuck’s sake!
So why did touching myself—something I did near daily when he wasn’t around—feel so different? And why did he always love to watch?
I settled back on the pillows, maintaining strong eye contact with Baz.
I dipped two fingers inside myself, picking up my own wetness.
For effect, I sucked my fingers. Baz’s face lit up, even if he tried to play it cool.
He watched me eagerly as I began to stroke my clit slowly.
I picked up speed, moaning. It felt wonderful.
I focused on his cock. He slowly pumped his fist, staring at me as he did.
“Cum for me, Lanie,” he moaned. “Cum for me and show me you’ve earned my cock.”
I wanted to. As my breathing picked up, my fingers dove into my pussy—again and again. My thumb slapped my clit, bringing me closer.
The sound of my wetness rang out until I reached my climax, screaming, “Oh, fuck, yes!”
“Get on all fours!” Baz barked, flipping me before I had time to recover.
“Yes… Lord… Osgoode,” I panted.
He pulled me onto his cock, smacking the cheek he mostly neglected so hard, I bounced forward. He pulled me back, his cock slipping back inside to fill me.
“Oh, fuck,” I moaned. “Oh fuck, that is good!”
“So, are you going to behave? Are you going to be a good girl?”
He reached down to swirl his fingers around my clit.
“Uh… uh-huh,” I shuddered.
Baz pumped harder. His fingers made good work. I lost myself again.
“Who owns you, Lanie?”
“You… you do.”
Breath ragged and body pulsing, I wanted to cum so badly.
“What’s my name?”
“Lord Osgoode,” I moaned.
“So who owns you, baby?”
“Lord… Osgoode,” I let out a sharp scream. “Oh, fuck. Yes, Baz!”
He pounded into me, both hands now on my hips.
I tried to recover from my second orgasm, but there was little hope.
I’d seen stars. I lived through something so wonderful I couldn’t explain it.
When he did this to me—played this game—I could escape reality and find the sweetest release.
I’d never felt that with anyone else. The game topped all others.
Baz bounced into me hardest before stopping, holding my hips for dear life as he let out a low grunt. His cock pulsed inside me. I hung there until he pulled out, flopping to the side. I rolled onto my back, pressing my hips up slightly, legs pressed together.
“What’s wrong?” Baz threw me a pair of boxers.
“Well, I think I’m probably near ovulation if I haven’t already hit it. I didn’t want to waste it.”
He gave me a crooked grin. “You’re dreadful.”
“What? For wanting to conceive a child with my husband? Does Lord Osgoode not want an heir?”
“It’s quite alright,” Baz said. “But I doubt any of that will matter.”
“Hard disagree,” I said. “Sex that earth-shattering has to count for something.”