Dawn finished admiring her new clothes and faced them. “You mentioned a play?” she said with a bright smile. “Something you need help with? What can we do to help?”
Chapter Six
Aster frowned at the sheaf of papers in his hand, his handsome brow knotted in concern. “I see that I’m supposed to want my new wife dead every morning, but I don’t understand why I’d do such a thing. What’s my motivation?”
“Motivation?” Dawn glared up from her copy of the script, a look of disgust on her pretty face. “Your ‘motivation’ is that you’re a selfish pig. Can’t keep a woman satisfied with just you, so you have to kill her. Typical male behavior.”
Eyes narrowing, the man returned her glare. “No woman has ever been dissatisfied with me.”
Nina stifled a groan. Had she expected a pair of statues to have smaller egos than human actors? If so, she’d certainly been wrong. If anything Dawn and Aster had at least the number of issues and questions as the normal actors she’d worked with, and in some ways far more.
For one thing, she’d never had an actor question her on whether or not he needed to be naked during a sex scene before. Usually she had to coax her male porn stars into leaving something to the audience’s imagination, but once clothed Aster had become reluctant to take anything off. She had no such problems with Dawn, who was happy to be dressed or undressed as the occasion decreed.
She had other problems, however, because for some reason the newly made woman had taken a seemingly instant antipathy to her co-star and reveled in annoying him at every opportunity. This, of course, made directing them in a sex scene a special kind of experience, akin to shoveling snow in Hades’ underworld. No sooner did you lift a heaping spade-full from the ground than it melted into water that ran off the blade, freezing when it hit the earth again.
As soon as she explained one part of the scene to her fledgling thespians, obtaining their grudging approval on it, they found disagreement with another. It was enough to make a budding screenplay writer insane. Of course she had to be crazy to fall for Pan’s scheme anyway. Not that the god was around to see the fruits of his brilliant idea. He’d taken off as soon as she’d handed out the scripts and started rehearsal, claiming a previous engagement.
An engagement involving Hep and more of his amber ale, she was certain of it. Pan had left her to deal with the situation, a situation that was his idea and his making. Imagine taking two stone statues and turning them into actors! She was lucky their performances weren’t stiffer than they were.
As it was, there was a certain woodenness about them… No, she should stop that line of thought before it petrified on her. The last thing she needed was to make her concerns concrete. It was bad enough they were set in stone…
Nina shook her head and attempted to rid it of the rest of the bad puns that had infested her consciousness. She was a playwright, not a bricklayer…
This had to stop. None of this was getting the first scene of her play worked out. Clearing her throat to get their attention, Nina pointed an impatient finger at the pair and put on what she hoped was her stoniest expression. “Quiet down, both of you, or I’ll have Pan turn you back into statues immediately,” she said.
She was gratified to see that the threat actually worked. Eyes wide, both Aster and Dawn gave her their complete attention.
Putting on her most imposing attitude, Nina waved her hands nonchalantly. “It’s a very simple scene,” she said, hoping she projected more assurance than she felt. “Dawn, you are Scheherazade, the sultan’s new wife. He’s lying on the bed and you come into the room. You bow to him as a proper wife would…” Nina opted not to make comment on how Aster grinned and Dawn rolled her eyes. “…then you remove your clothes. Do it slowly, one fastening at a time, one garment at a time. The idea is to tease and tempt.”
Aster took his position on the cushions they’d put on the lawn to represent the sultan’s bedroom and lolled against the back pillows, his attitude in keeping with his royal status. Nina had to admit that he looked pretty good that way. Now if she could just get Dawn to cooperate.
Raising his arms, the “sultan” clapped his hands twice and spoke his first line imperiously. “I wish my bride to attend me.” He frowned ferociously and only the tilt of one of his eyebrows gave away how amused he was by the entire state of affairs.
On cue, Dawn entered the area Nina had marked out as the stage, ducking her head appropriately when she faced him. Even her bow looked good, Nina thought, if you ignored the slight look of disgust on her face when she did it.
“I am here, my lord and master. How can I please you?”
Aster’s eyes twinkled and Nina realized he was enjoying his role. “I desire entertainment, woman.” His gaze ran along her body. “Disrobe for me, I would see the beauty I bring to my bed this night.”
Fire flashed in Dawn’s eyes, but she did as she’d been directed to do, carefully removing her garments one piece at a time. First she unlaced her tight bodice, letting her nipples show through the opening before pulling it off her shoulders and slipping it to the ground. With a smooth movement she slid from her shoes and worked her waistband down her hips, naked breasts swaying with her efforts.
It wasn’t the seductive striptease of a professional dancer, but Nina decided that would have been inappropriate for a virginal bride on her wedding night, as Scheherazade would most certainly have been. Instead Dawn played the role as a shy woman taking her clothing off for a man she didn’t know, a man who would soon be her lover and, if her plan to entice him with her stories was unsuccessful, a man who would order her death in the morning.
It was a complicated relationship to be sure and as Dawn took her clothing off, Nina grew more impressed with the woman’s insight into her character’s role. There was clearly more going on in Dawn than she would have expected from a mere statue.
Aster watched her performance with an appreciative gleam in his eyes, and as Nina watched the front of his loose pants got considerably bigger. She made a note on her copy of the script to add into it Dawn’s interpretation of Scheherazade’s disrobing. The innocent striptease was just what the scene needed.
Clad only in the briefest of undergarments, a thin and transparent wrapping of her most private parts, Dawn walked to her “husband”, her hips swaying in acute invitation. Aster gave a near growl as she came closer, then groaned as she put a hand on his chest.
Dawn broke character and turned to Nina. “Should he be doing that?” she asked. “Moaning and groaning like a schoolboy with his first woman?”
The mood shattered and Nina couldn’t resist a groan of her own this time.
Blinking in annoyance, Aster sat up straight. “Now just a minute, that’s hardly fair. After all, it’s been a while…”
Never mind having the sultan kill his wife, Nina was going to do it for him! Here they’d just gotten into the scene and Dawn had to interrupt, spoiling the mood. Nina took a deep calming breath, resisting the urge to scream.
“You’re right that he shouldn’t be reacting quite that strongly, but I think we can let Aster have a few groans at this time, even if they aren’t in the script. This is a run-through, not a polished performance. I just want to see how the scene goes and not everything needs to be perfect.”
She pointed to Aster. “Lie back down and don’t worry about keeping quiet. If you want to groan, do it. Last thing we need is performance anxiety. You—” Nina redirected her attention to “Scheherazade”, the perfectionist. “You pay attention to what you need to do and leave the directing to me. It’s my job, after all. I want you to touch his chest, and ask to see it. He’ll say you can and then you’ll take his shirt off. Understand?”
Both nodded, and they began the scene at that point, Nina taking notes and directing them. Aster’s breathing picked up, but he bit down on his lips, canceling any groans, moans, or other audible sounds of pleasure at her touch. When she licked his dusky nipple, he made a small hiss but quickly suppressed it. Mischi
ef blossomed on Dawn’s face and after that it was clear she was working to get a reaction out of him in addition to his steadily increasing erection.
Stifling the urge to interfere with Dawn’s game, Nina watched as the other woman pulled on “the sultan’s” pants, freeing his erection. The script suggested that Scheherazade go down on him, but Dawn merely teased Aster’s cock, drawing the foreskin back and licking it carefully. Aster gave up any attempt at stoicism and moaned under her ministrations, his hands wandering to her back then moving to find her breasts. He in turn teased her nipples with his fingers and it was Dawn’s turn to make noises deep in her throat. She whimpered when he released her breasts.
Aster smiled at this minor victory and pulled her down onto the bed next to him. Trapping her on the soft surface below him, he took the lead in their lovemaking, apparently oblivious of Nina’s rapt attention. Aster’s pants fell off the bed followed by Dawn’s undergarment, ripped from her un-protesting body. Now he lay gloriously naked on top of an equally nude Dawn, the pair of them kissing with a passion at least equal to the energy they’d expended so far in irritating each other.
For all of the pair’s arguing and teasing, it was clear they were compatible sexually. Not for the first time, Nina wished she had a video camera to film them. The way they heated up when making love, they’d be perfect as her main characters in her film. Unfortunately she would have real trouble getting them into Actor’s Equity given the fact that they were living statues rather than flesh and blood humans. A pity, really. They were better performers than most of the porn stars she’d worked with, at least in these roles, and she loved how his dusky coloring contrasted with her pearl-like skin. Nina began making a mental list of the darker skinned actors she knew who could take Aster’s place.
In the meantime, Aster seemed to love Dawn’s skin, running his hands over her breasts like he held the most precious of jewels. He raised one of her legs to fall over his shoulder, opening Dawn’s sex to his and Nina’s rapt gaze. One of his hands delved between her folds, making Dawn moan with heightened desire.
Nina muffled her own moan of sympathy, keeping as quiet as she could to avoid disturbing the pair. They seemed oblivious to her now, too engaged with each other to be worried about having an audience. As a result their performances were perfect.
Now Aster pulled Dawn’s legs apart on the bed, settling himself between them, supporting himself on his knees. He gazed down at her with an imperious look, the look of a sultan about to claim his bride. He took his cock in his hand and smoothed it, using his own fluids to make it slick and ready for her. Dawn’s eyes grew wider as she watched him, and Nina could see the start of a protest cover her lips.
It was a protest she never was able to deliver. Aster held her thighs firm as he moved abruptly forward, spearing her with his massive shaft. Dawn cried out at his entry, and Nina could almost believe she had been a virgin when they’d begun.
He didn’t stop, but bore into her, covering her mouth with his own, his groans covering the rest of her cries. Finally joined, they paused, Aster’s limbs shaking with the effort to keep still, Dawn’s entire body trembling on the bed beneath him.
He pushed himself up and stared down into her face. “And now, my bride, you belong to me, and me alone.”
Whatever response Dawn might have had was lost in what came next. Aster moved in her, his cock grinding into her, at first slow, then steadily faster as he found what tempo worked best for them. Along his back, his dark skin grew damp as they coupled and Nina could see a faint sheen of perspiration dotting Dawn’s face as well.
Aster shuddered and stopped, pausing in mid-stroke over her, his entire body shuddering with the effort. Clenching his jaw, his eyes closed for a moment, as if relishing the feel of his upcoming release. From beneath him came Dawn’s hands trailing down his back in a sensuous caress that ended on his round buttocks. Her fingers smoothed across them, then clutched at the firm mounds with frantic need.
“Please, my lord. Don’t make me wait any longer.” Her voice seemed no louder than a whisper, but it carried clearly to Nina’s ears in the stillness of the garden.
No longer able to hold out, Aster resumed pumping into her and with a loud cry, emptied himself deep inside Dawn. While muffled by his chest, Dawn too cried her pleasure and finally both of them lay still, their breath coming hot and heavy.
Nina put one hand over her mouth, trying to control her own breathing. It had been a long time since she’d witnessed a sex scene that profound, and it had made her more than a little aroused.
Not that she wanted to join Aster and Dawn on their makeshift bed, but if a certain hairy-legged god were to show up soon, she’d be all the happier for it.
As Nina continued to watch, Aster raised himself over Dawn’s body and stared down at her. “Why have you done this to yourself? You are lovely, Scheherazade, with a body as fine as any I’ve known before. But I’ve seen beautiful women before and held their bodies close to mine. No matter how desirable I find you, tomorrow I will order your death. You knew this, and yet still you came to me. You were not forced. Nay, I heard you asked to come to me, to become my bride even through you knew you would die as a result. Why would you do this?”
Dawn looked up at him, her gaze as intent as his. “It is simple, my lord. I seek to change your mind about killing me.”
“And how would you do that? Yes, you are lovely, but other women are as lovely as you. Many are more so. Many are better at the art of love than you. So what do you offer me that I can’t find elsewhere?”
“It is true that other women are more beautiful than I am. They are more voluptuous, more tempting to a man of your refined tastes. It is also true that I’m not the most proficient at the erotic arts, although I’m sure I can satisfy your desires. But what I can offer is unique to me and me alone, my lord. In my mind are stories, enough to fill a thousand and one empty and quiet nights. That is something you will get from no other woman, my lord. My tales are exceptional, exciting, and beyond anything you’ve heard before.”
She smiled shyly at him, letting her hands caress his face, tracing his lips. “I am unique among your brides, my lord, because I will satisfy both your hunger for the flesh—and the mind.”
The “sultan” frowned, but did not immediately deny her words. “It has been a long time since a woman challenged me to find more than her body of interest. You say your tales are the equal of those of the greatest bards? Very well, Scheherazade, I will take your challenge. Entertain me with one of your stories. Perhaps I will let you live so I might hear another.”
“Oh, my lord, my stories are not short tales to entertain for the moment only. They are epic legends of wonder and intrigue and are not the kind that can be told in one night. If I begin a tale it will take the rest of the hours until dawn and still not be completed.”
His gaze grew more intense, his interest now obvious to the watching Nina. Aster sat up and pushed pillows behind his back, making himself comfortable. “Very well, my many-worded bride. I’m in the mood for a legendary tale of wonder. Begin it now and if I find I cannot bear to live without hearing its end, I will spare your life in the morning.”
Drawing about her a thin robe, Scheherazade also sat up on the bed. She arranged herself into a comfortable position, took a fortifying sip of wine from the goblet near the bed and when she was ready began her tale.
“My story, great lord, begins on the beach near a small fishing village. There was once a young fisherwoman who was very poor, but very, very wise…”
Dawn’s voice trailed off and both she and Aster broke character and looked over at Nina. “That’s the end of the scene you gave us,” she said.
From the shadows behind Nina came applause and Pan stepped into the light. “Wonderful job,” he told them, “simply wonderful. Well done by both the actors and the writer.” Aster and Dawn looked pleased and Nina smiled, cheered at his approval.
“How long have you been standing there?” she asked.
“Quite a while. I came in while they were making love and didn’t want to interrupt.” He wiggled his expressive eyebrows. “Very good scene. But then that last part was the best.”
She’d just written that section into the script that afternoon. “You thought it was good?”
Pan smiled broadly. “It was excellent. I particularly liked the part about how she tells him that while he’s had many women, it is her mind that makes her unique. It sets everything up so that he can’t help but evaluate her as more than just a body to warm his bed.”
From the air he conjured a tablet and paper and Nina could see it was full of writing. “I just had a couple of notes for the actors.”
While he went through his list with the attentive pair, Nina watched him and pondered what he’d said.
More than just a body to warm his bed. That’s what Nina wanted to be for Pan. Did he see in the sultan a bit of himself, a man who went through many women, rarely staying with one for any length of time? As far as she knew, she was the longest to occupy Pan’s bed, ever. Of course it was because of the arrow, but she’d noticed how Pan sometimes seemed to enjoy her company as much out of the bedroom as he did inside. He was even taking an interest in her activities and helping with her script—and was doing it with enthusiasm!
On the other hand she was still aroused from watching Dawn and Aster make love. At the moment pursuits outside the bedroom were far from her mind. She slid up to Pan and put an arm around his waist. He broke off what he was saying to give her his attention, his narrow eyebrows raising quizzically.
“Do you want something, Nina?” he asked.
She smiled at him. “As it happens, yes.” Her voice was pitched to make it clear just what she had in mind.
Pan’s face grew guarded. “What about our friends here? Shall we ask them to join us?” The reluctance in his expression didn’t encourage her to agree.
Divine Interventions: Nemesis of the Garden Page 8