The shoot had gone well. Enrique was more than content with the final product, and was sure that the song would inevitably be a hit. It had taken the best part of two days, however, and curiously, Anna remembered thinking, the intimate scenes shared by Anna and Enrique had been shot, and re-shot, and re-shot... countless times. She could not deny, however, that she had been secretly very content with this, and, as far as she could tell, Enrique wasn't overly upset about it, either. In fact, he had obviously enjoyed it, and the chemistry between the two was readily apparent. Enrique's naturally flirtatious nature had Anna enticed, and the Latino lover was everything Russian men weren't. She kicked herself for feeling the way she did.
Filming had been grueling, and when those heaven-sent words "that's a wrap" were muttered for the last time, a heavy weight was lifted from her heart, but as she watched Enrique leave the studio, her heart felt lumbered again. Enrique approached his sports car, opened the door, and sat down. He gazed fixedly at Anna's perfect figure and beautiful long blonde hair, and started the engine. Taking a last glance at Anna, he pressed his foot down on the pedal and the car rolled forwards. Little did he know, Anna's heart felt as heavy as his.
Anna watched the car edge away, grudgingly, when all of a sudden she found herself running towards the studio's glass door. Wolf whistles encircled her as her breasts jumped up and down, and as she crashed through the door, she waved her arms frantically towards the car that now seemed so distant. It pulled away onto the road, and disappeared. Anna walked back into the studio, grabbed her belongings, and in as short a time as she could managed, found herself in her chauffeur driven limousine, heading for her hotel. She closed her eyes; it had been a long day. She awoke as the driver opened the door, and offered her his hand as she clambered clumsily, still half-asleep, out of the vehicle.
On reflection, she came to the decision that the likes of Enrique were dangerous, at the best of times, and for one so young, she felt it was best not to get involved. However sensible she thought this conclusion to be, she struggled to convince herself. Making her way to the lifts, men, even those obviously accompanied by wives and girlfriends turned to stare. Lust filled their gazes. She had always felt selfishly satisfied by this in the past, yet now, she felt empty. Knowing she could have any of these men just by clicking her fingers, made the abyss that filled her heart seem even more empty. Enrique hadn't even said goodbye.
As she slipped into her bath, her muscles relaxed, as the bubbles lathered around her body. She lay back, engulfed in this bubbly paradise. Her mind wandered back to the shoot earlier that day. Enrique believed that for a love scene to look real, it had to be real. Her thoughts jumped from the kiss in the theatre, to the kiss in the lady's room, to the kiss in the car. She felt his warm breath, smelt him, sensed his gentle caress. Her hands fell into the water, and she brushed a palm over one of her breasts. She felt a tingle down her spine. She longed to feel him again, to kiss him again. Her hands continued to wander over her body, she ran her hand up her leg, and her pussy tingled with anticipation. As she softly ran her finger along the length of her slit, she closed her eyes once more. She pictured Enrique, in a loose shirt; again, she felt his kiss, his hands, his body. Before she knew it, a shuddering orgasm rippled through her body. She felt no better; if anything, she felt even emptier.
