Animate Me / Chapter Twenty-Three / Animal Style

“Welcome to downtown Coolsville! Population: us.” ~Hogarth

I lovingly push my pencil over the paper, the lead tip stroking her hips and the sides of her thighs. Each line grows darker and more refined as my Wonder Woman comes to life. As my pencil trails around her breasts I remember last night and the way she looked at me as we made love. I shift in my chair and remind myself that this isn’t the time or place to get worked up over those memories. Refocusing, I move up to her lovely face where I’ve already sketched in her features. As I finish up the drawing her lips curl up and her eyes shine as she gazes at me. My fingers gently lift and caress the edge of the paper as I smile back. I gently rub the eraser around the edges of the curves, removing the rough lines.

Good God, it’s like I’m making love to a drawing.

I’m so enchanted with her image I don’t even hear anyone approach.

“So when did Wonder Woman join the Beaver Patrol?”

I jerk up startled and put my hand over my drawing in a futile attempt to cover the evidence.

“Oh, h-hey Joel,” I stutter. Shit! “Sorry about that. I’ll get back to work. I was just taking a break. I blasted through my first scene this morning.”

“Interesting way to spend your breaks, Evans,” he says with a smirk. “But actually I came over here to get you. I wanted to talk for a minute.” He points down the hall. “Why don’t we head into my office?”

I look up surprised, and study his expression trying to figure out what’s going on. Before I follow him down the hall, I crack open my bottom drawer to slip my drawing inside. Have I done something wrong? I know this isn’t about my Wonder Woman drawing since he came to get me before he’d seen it.

His office is smaller than Brooke’s but it’s still cool. There are storyboards everywhere, and a complete set of maquette sculptures from the show. Joel somehow convinced the budgeting drone to pay to have sculptures made of each character, so the animators could study how the figures looked dimensionally from every angle.

He indicates for me to sit in one of the chairs near the storyboards, and he joins me.

“So what’s up?”

“I want to show you something. It’s a new idea I’m getting ready to pitch, and I’d like you to be involved.”

He hands me a drawing of a young kid. Other than the fact that he’s holding a skateboard and looks kind of cool, he’s unremarkable. I notice though, that physically he looks a lot like I did when I was young: long and lanky and messy brown hair.

“Who’s this?” I ask, studying the character’s features carefully.

“He’s my main character. His name is Robbie.”

I hand the drawing back, baffled as how he expects to center a show around such a normal looking kid.

“Does his skateboard have rockets on it or something? I mean what’s unique about him?”

“No, that’s the point,” says Joel, grinning. “He’s a regular kid.” Joel leans back and smiles before dramatically reaching over for another drawing.

I appreciate the build…Joel is a master at pitching, and I always learn something watching him.

“And here’s his family. The show is aptly called, Robbie from Romania.”

The elaborately gothic drawing is a cross between Nightmare Before Christmas and that show from the late Sixties, the Addams Family. When I study the drawing carefully, I notice all the characters have fangs.

“Romania? Oh I get it. It’s a family of…”

“Vampires,” Joel says excitedly. “Exactly! And he’s like the niece Marilyn from that old classic show The Munsters. Robbie seems like a regular kid, leading what looks like a normal life…until he gets home to his family, a house full of eccentric vampires.”

“Did you get lost in T.V. land again?” I tease him, smiling. “And you’re so trendy with the vampire stuff, Joel.”

“Okay, I admit it,” he says with a sour face. “Management has been pushing me to do a vampire show, everyone wants fucking vampires. But I really like this. Think of all the stuff we could do.”

We? It sounds like I’m leaving the Beaver Patrol. “What do you mean, we?”

“I really think you’re ready for a bigger challenge, Nathan. I’d like you to help me produce the show.”

“Produce?” I ask, flabbergasted.

“Yeah, you’d be more involved in the story and character development, possibly even direct a couple of episodes. You’d get your own office and more money. How does that sound?”

Office? With a locking door? I’m liking that idea. Wow!

Of course, my Dad’s words about “how I’m going to manage everything” ring in my head. Why is life always like this? Nothing, nothing, nothing…and then everything happens at once. I pause another moment considering what I should say.

“That’s such a cool offer, Joel. But I need to let you know that my comic got picked up by Sharper Edge and that’s going to keep me really busy in my off hours. I just worry that I may not be able to manage everything.”

“Yeah, I heard about your books. Congratulations by the way. It’s great and all, but seriously dude, I still think you need to remember that comic books are dying a slow death. I really wouldn’t put all my eggs in that basket. I mean, look at Comic Con…there are only a few aisles left of comic book vendors. People just don’t read anymore.”

But I still read comics…

Joel easily stirs up the apprehension I’ve had all along and he knows it. I nod my head. “I know. I’m not expecting too much from it.”

“That’s smart, then no matter what happens you’ll be happy,” he says patting me on the shoulder. “And you still love working in animation, right?”

“Absolutely,” I say deciding on my strategy. “I’d like to work on this idea with you.”

“Great, I’ll have Anna set up a meeting next week to start planning, and I’ll let HR know too so they can work out all the gory details.”

On my way out I notice a framed picture of the girl he brought to the party, between the stacks of books all over his desk. “Hey, how’s it going with…was it Laurie?”

“Actually, Laura.” He grins happily. “It’s going great. I’m crazy about her.” He studies me for a moment. “You know we’ve got to find you a girl, Evans. It’s been far too long.”

My eye starts to twitch, and I nod nervously and shrug my shoulders, figuring it’s safest not to say anything. As I silently head back to my cube, I feel great frustration not to be able to tell others about my relationship with Brooke yet. I want the whole world to know that she’s my girl.

• • •

Kevin offers to drive a group of us to Sharkey’s for lunch. As we approach the open elevator to head down, I see Brooke’s already in the elevator having an intense conversation with a man I’ve never seen before. As soon as she sees our group, she turns towards us. When our eyes meet, she smiles sweetly.

“Hey guys,” she says. “This is the creator of Danny Deletes. I’d like you to meet Lazlo.”

Lazlo turns to face us with a wary look. He looks rugged, like he lumbers timber wherever the hell he lives, when he isn’t drawing a little boy computer genius, that is. He reacts by stepping closer to Brooke, and I don’t like it…not one bit. He turns back to her and whispers something in her ear before any of us can introduce ourselves.

The ass is whispering to my woman. I grit my teeth so hard I’m surprised they don’t crumble in my mouth. Kevin looks at me and rolls his eyes before taking another sideways glance at them.

Brooke takes a step away from Lazlo and addresses us again. “So where are you guys headed to?” She asks brightly.

“Sharkeys,” Andy replies happily. Of course the rotund man-boy is blissfully happy. As long as he’s eating fast food or playing with his life size doll, he’s perfectly content.

“Do you want to join us?” I ask my girl, looking directly into her eyes. Of course, I mean just Brooke, but I know I can’t really clarify that at this moment.

The mute lumberjack is shaking his head vehemently.

“No, we’re meeting the producers at Prosecco’s,” Brooke quickly responds. “But you guys have a great time.”

I clench my hands into fists as I imagine him at a fancy lunch with Brooke. He probably takes a handful of toothpicks to chew on when he leaves the restaurant.

When we get to the lobby, we part ways. But right before we pass through the door Brooke looks back at me and winks. Of course the man-boy, Andy, notices and almost squeals as he turns to me.

“Dude, did you see that? She winked at you! I’d tap that hard if I were you.”

“Shut up, Andy,” I growl.

But despite his gross outburst, I must admit Brooke’s wink did me a world of good. I know she did it to reassure me, not caring who else would see. I carry that wink with me well into the afternoon.

Just after four I call her office directly to tell her that I’ll be late getting coffee since I was finishing up a scene on deadline.

“Are you done with Mr. Personality yet?” I ask, immediately second-guessing the wisdom of my nasty tone.

There’s a long pause.

“Mr. Personality? What exactly are you alluding to, Mr. Evans? You weren’t impressed with Lazlo?”

“Not exactly,” I admit.

“Aww, he’s not so bad. I actually really like Lazlo, except that he eats with his mouth open, and he’s a breather.”

“A breather?” I ask, getting more agitated by the moment. What the hell does that mean? Was he breathing on my Brooke?

“You know those pug dogs with the squishy faces? He wheezes like one of those.”

“Did he breathe on you?” I can’t help but ask.

“What?” she questions, sounding baffled. “What do you mean, did he breathe on me?”

“Never mind,” I huff, feeling very discouraged.

“Are we jealous? Is that what this is about? Because you can’t possibly be jealous of Lazlo?”

“Why can’t I? Isn’t being jealous and over-protective one of my jobs…being your boyfriend and all?”

There’s another pause.

“Boyfriend?”

“Yes,” I say boldly. “That only makes sense since you’re my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” she repeats.

I’m not sure if we’re getting anywhere here.

“And that also makes you mine, not the breather’s,” I clarify.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes,” I reply without hesitation.

“For the record, I think it’s sexy, Nathan, when you go all possessive and dominant on me like this.”

“Dominant?” I ask, my mind reeling with images. Maybe she’s trying to tell me something. What does dominant mean to her?

She seems to sense my anxiety. “Don’t worry, I’m not talking about that kind of dominant, where you have to tie me up and throttle me. Sometimes it’s just about being direct and demanding what you want. You know, like Indiana Jones.”

“Oh, I see,” I say, even though I don’t really understand the practical applications of that yet.

“It’s like you pushing me down to my knees and telling me to take you in my mouth, because you need that from me.”

I pull the phone away from my ear and examine it like it’s faulty. Did she just say that on the work line?

“Geez, Brooke. I’m not sure I could do that. Push you to your knees? That sounds inappropriate, like something that I’d never do.”

“But could you say, ‘I want your mouth on me,’ if you desired that?”

I know I’m turning bright red; if anyone walks by my cube now they’ll think I’ve got a sunburn.

“Well, I always desire that, but honestly, I’d be too embarrassed to ask you like that.”

“I see. But don’t you think it’s okay if your woman wants you to say it? If she wants to do that for you?”

“Is that what you want?” I ask, nervously.

“Yes, definitely it’s what I want, and what I need. Actually, I want it now. I’m all flustered and hot just thinking of being on my knees for you.”

“Oh, good God, Brooke…”

“I know…I’m naughty. See, it reminds me of when you were Indy and how commanding you were.”

“But we’re leaving in an hour?” I say quite unconvincingly, more like a question.

“Oh, that will be more than enough time. Say it Nathan; I want to hear you ask for it.”

“Really? Now?”

“Yes, now. Come on…I know you can do it,” she encourages.

I stand up and look over the top of my cube. Andy has his ear buds in and appears to be rocking out to one of his metal bands as he works. I sit back down in my chair, and cup my hand over the speaker part of the phone. I take a deep breath and speak in a low, firm voice.

“I want your mouth on me, Brooke.” My heart’s pounding. This is crazy shit…but I’m definitely getting off on it.

There is a long pause where all I can hear is her breathing, and I imagine I see the wheels turning in her head. She sounds breathy when she replies. “Listen, take the elevator up to the nineteenth floor. When you get off make a right and walk to the end of the hallway where you’ll find a conference room. I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”

Just then, Kevin steps into my cube and firmly motions that he has to talk to me.

“Ugh, hold on,” I say to Brooke.

“What’s up?” I ask Kevin, relieved that he doesn’t seem to notice how flustered I am.

He looks irritated. “You’re late for the production calendar meeting.” He points to the production room down the hall.

“Do we have a meeting scheduled? I didn’t hear about it.”

He nods.

Shit, I must be losing it…now I’m forgetting meetings.

I hear Brooke sigh into the phone.

But I know my priorities. “Hey Kevin, can you take notes for me. I have an important issue with…” My mind reels. “…with my insurance and HR needs to talk to me right now.”

“Yes, it’s a very important issue” Brooke echoes in the phone. “….a critical meeting. Don’t be late, Mr. Evans.”

Kevin nods, and walks off.

“I’m on my way,” I assure her.

My pulse speeds up as I wander down the abandoned hallway. I think these offices were used recently when we had two other shows in production. Although our posters still hang on the walls, now this place is a ghost town.

But when I peek my head in the last room, I see Brooke standing in front of the big picture window, looking out over the view. “Brooke,” I call out just loud enough for her to hear. It’s weird to be in this huge conference room, especially since I know what kind of meeting this is going to be. I’m fully aroused in anticipation.

She turns and points to the chair at the head of the table. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

I step closer, watching her eyes as they move over me. At this point, my excitement’s quite evident, and although she doesn’t say anything, her eyes do widen at the sight of me.

As I approach the chair, she slowly passes me and closes the door, then turns the lock. The clicking sound when the lock settles makes my heart skip. I settle into the chair and wait. Every hair on my body is standing on end.

She strolls back very slowly, considering me. She steps close enough to almost graze my knee, then leans back, her ass on the edge of the table. She folds her arms and gives me a business-y look that confuses me.

“Is that look on your face burning desire or are you still agitated about my meeting with Lazlo?”

“Maybe some of both,” I admit.

“I want to ask you about your reaction to him again. I wasn’t flirting with Lazlo. It was business. So why were you jealous?” she asks.

“Are you trying to provoke me?” Her demeanor reminds me of a kitty batting around a mouse with her paws before she pounces.

“No, I really want to understand.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” I reply simply.

“Really? And how was that?”

“Like he wanted to breathe on you and chop down your tree.”

“Chop down my tree?”

“He looks like a fucking lumberjack.”

“Oh, Nathan.” She smiles and slowly shifts her legs towards me. “But don’t you understand you’re the only one I want. I’m going to be doing business with men; it’s what I do. But that doesn’t have any reflection on my love and desire for you.”

“I guess I forget sometimes,” I admit.

“You’re always so nice, so accommodating. I think it’s time for you to toughen up.”

I feel like we’re talking about something else all of a sudden. Like Brooke is subtly training me for the battles we may face up ahead. She studies me for a moment, but then her expression shifts to a warm gaze. “Besides, it’s hot to see this side of you. You know it’s okay to be more assertive about what you want. It’s good for you.”

“Okay…I’m going to be assertive from now on.”

“Good, handsome. And you know what else?”

“No, what?”

“It makes me kinda crazy for you…right now I feel like I’m burning up inside.”

If she’s burning, I’m a raging fire. I swallow hard and try to calm myself.

She gives me a sexy smile. “So, tell me…what do you want…right now?”

“I want what you want…this,” I fumble, gesturing between us.

“This?” she asks, like she needs clarification. “I want you to be more specific.”

I look back at the conference room door, making sure it’s still closed.

More specific…okay, here goes.

“Well for one thing, I want to see more of you,” I say smiling as I gesture towards her chest. I look up at her to gauge her reaction. She’s completely non-flustered.

Brooke looks pleased as she glances down at her shirt and nods. “You know this shirt has snaps. Why don’t you just rip it open?”

“Really?”

She nods and gives me the look. “I want you to rip open my blouse…come on…do it, Nathan.”

I lean in toward her and press my fingers into where her shirt comes together. I curl my fingers over the fabric, imagine I’m Superman and pull with force. The shirt explodes open and I hear her take a sharp breath.

I swallow hard. “Wow,” I whisper. I look up at her and she has a sultry expression. It’s clear she’s excited. My gaze trails down to her breasts, so hypnotizing in the sheer shimmering bra. My fingers flex anxiously wanting to touch her, but I realize that I should ask for something else. I picture Brooke in my mind, running her hands over her curves, cupping her softness as she gazes at me.

“I want you to touch your breasts,” I say boldly.

Brooke makes a show of it as she glides her fingers over her creamy skin. I notice her nipples harden under her circling fingers. She lets out a low moan as she watches me intently.

“Like this?”

I nod. Just like that.

As she pinches her nipples she looks up at me and drags her tongue along her bottom lip. “And what would you like me to do now?”

I reach up and place my hands at the top of her arms, not sure the best way to ask. I pause, and look down before I finally find my courage.

“I want you on your knees,” I say in an unsteady voice.

As she sinks down, I press lightly on her shoulders. But really she’s the one controlling the momentum. Once she’s on the floor she looks up at me, waiting for me to continue.

“Touch me,” I whisper, struggling not to be embarrassed.

She gently runs hers hands up my thighs and then settles over where I’m hard and pressed tight against my jeans. When her fingers press down, I shudder.

“Brooke,” I moan.

“Can I open this up?” she asks, as her fingers linger over the fly. “I need more.”

“Uh huh,” I respond, my heart pounding.

She teases, working slowly until her hand pulls the fabric apart and she grasps my hard-on. I close my eyes as her hand moves over me. With my eyes shut, I’m acutely aware of the symphony of sensations: the warmth of her fingers, the softness of her breasts pressed against my knees, and the quickening pace of her breath as her hand tightens and finds its slow rhythm.

She suddenly stops and waits, still as can be.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell me?” she challenges.

“Tell me?”

“Tell me what you want.” She looks determined, unyielding. “Or maybe you aren’t so sure what you want.”

Why’s she challenging me? But then I start to understand that she needs this from me. It’s important for her to see how strong I can be with her, without my costume on. “I know what I want,” I assure her. “I always know what I want.”

“Really?” she smirks playfully.

“I’ve always wanted you,” I point out.

“Anything else?”

I know my face is bright red, but I try to ignore the flustered feeling of being embarrassed to ask for things that keep me up at night in my ever expanding world of Brooke fantasies. I clear my throat and look her in the eye. “I want your mouth on me.”

She looks pleased, like a kid who got exactly what she asked for on Christmas morning. I see a flash of lust in her eyes before she takes me in her mouth. She circles her tongue over me until I have no sense of time or space, just Brooke. But then she pauses and continues with the damn talking. “See that wasn’t so hard?” she points out as she shakes her head defiantly.

She asked me to be assertive and dominant, so here we go. “More…” I insist as I reach out and cradle her head, running my fingers through her hair. I guide her towards me until I’m back in her mouth.

She hums with delight, before she pulls me in deeper.

I’m mesmerized, watching her. Her eyes are half-mast, heavy with pleasure, and she moans each time I rock my hips. I reach over and brush her hair away from her face, but my hands remain and I give in to the temptation of pulling her even closer.

I could’ve never imagined being like this with her, but at this rate I’m not going to last much longer. Something primal flares in me. I need to be buried inside of her, and I need it now. “Wait, I need you to stop,” I warn her as I ease her back. “Can you get up?” I ask, as I think of what we should do next. “Can we…?”

“Yes?” she asks, watching me carefully.

“I want you bent over the table,” I answer, more sure of myself.

She looks intrigued as she lifts up. I put my hands on her hips, and she playfully pushes them off. “You have to tell me what you’re going to do.” She insists.

“I think you know,” I put my hands back on her hips and turn her around. “I sure as hell won’t be pitching a show or conducting a storyboard meeting.”

“Glad to hear it,” she teases.

It just confirms my earlier thought; she needed to know I could take control. I rise and step right behind her, so that my erection presses heavy against her. I see her fingers spread flat against the wood grain of the oversized table as she waits for me, legs spread wide.

I lean over her so that my chest brushes her back, and speak low into her ear. “Is this what you fantasized about?”

She turns her face slightly towards me. “Yes,” she sighs. “This is exactly what I fantasized about.” I push her skirt up and see that she’s naked underneath.

I swallow hard. “Wow…where are your panties?”

“In my purse,” she whispers. “I wanted to be ready for you.”

“Thank you.” I moan as I run my hand over her soft skin.

I press her down towards the table with a firm hand. “Okay then. I’m going to take you now, Brooke.”

“Yes,” she whispers with a ragged breath.

She lies with her left cheek pressed against the table and her eyes closed as I push into her. I start really slow, focusing on every sensation but when she starts to touch herself I’m overcome . The harder I thrust, the louder she moans until I realize we’ve forgotten where we are. This is way hotter than I could have ever dreamed.

There’s a haunting eroticism about being in this public place in our most private moment. As I move against her, the images of our week fill my mind and fuel my fire. She’s Wonder Woman, my enchantress willing to sink to her knees to please me.

She belongs to neither the monkey nor the lumberjack. She belongs to me, and she’s so much more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

My thrusts build hard and fast, as I try to consume her. When she starts to climax, she sparks the Looney Tunes fuse on my ACME bomb. My heart’s thundering, my breath a gasp, as I arc back…and then…Kaboom! For a moment, the room fades to black and I see swirling stars in my eyes.

“Nathan?” she squeaks.

I open my eyes and gasp for air. I think I blacked out for a moment. She calls out again, more urgency in her voice.

“Nathan…you’re too heavy. I’m having trouble breathing!”

I quickly lift myself up. I must have collapsed on top of her. “I’m so sorry, Brooke. Are you alright?”

“I am now!” she sighs as she pushes up. “And I was more than alright a few moments ago.”

I slowly pull out of her and lower her skirt, suddenly feeling very decadent. I can’t believe we just did that in a public conference room. “Wow,” I say awestruck, as I pull her upright. “I sorta lost control.” I adjust my glasses that are askew.

She nods. “I’ll say. That was even hotter than my fantasy.”

“Really?” I ask, grinning.

“See…you showed me you can be bold and get what you want,” she assures me with a happy, dazed expression.

“It wasn’t too rough? You liked it…really?” I ask uncertainly, as I tuck myself away and pull my jeans closed. I feel the old Nathan in me returning and I’m a little nervous. That dominant stuff is hot, but it really isn’t me.

She pushes me playfully and gives me a mock stern look. “How can you even ask that? Wasn’t my pleasure pretty self-evident?”

I nod, with a sheepish look. “I guess so.”

“You know, this has been the best week ever,” she says.

“I agree.” Suddenly the idea of going back to work is pointless. “Hey, can we just take off now? I’m starving!” I announce, as we work our way out of the room, and approach the elevators.

“Sure,” she agrees. “How about burgers at In-N-Out?”

“Animal style?”

“Is there any other way,” she asks grinning.