They were driving to that chic little restaurant. The one they liked. The one where the owner knew about him. Of course he did. Everybody recognised Andy Paul, the guy off the breakfast TV show. The handsome guy.
But the owner politely ignored the fact, and told his staff to do the same. That was why Andy and his wife Jane spent $100s each visit, decimating the lesser-explored end of the wine list.
Jane was driving them to the restaurant. She looked incredible, as only a TV costume designer can. The woman knew clothes, and she understood the power of her own full figure.
A tight, simple, elegant black dress. Her red hair taken up, allowing her face to define her look. Cheeks highlighted subtly.
And of course, those full red lips that had made Andy double-take the first time he saw her ten years earlier.
His mind had flushed with fantasies of those lips against his cock. It had taken him less than two hours to turn that into a reality. Andy often worked that quickly when he felt the urge in his pants.
"I was in hysterics, Shauna was in hysterics, the floor crew were in hysterics," Andy was recounting as Jane drove. "And all I could hear in the earpiece was the gallery screaming at us to pull it together. We were live on air. We were due to deliver a piece about flooding downtown."
The clip was already going viral. Fifteen million views on YouTube of two news anchors just losing it over the story of a sick duckling called Frank.
People who didn't even know who Andy Paul was were messaging him on Twitter to thank him. People in the UK. People in Africa.
But more of them were messaging Shauna, of course.
The perfect ideation of a breakfast TV host, Shauna was blonde, sexy and somehow gave off an aura of being friendly. The girl next door you wanted to fuck, yet also the mom next door you wanted to have coffee with.
It wouldn't be long until she was taken away from their regional station, furthering her career with the big stations.
But until then, Andy and Shauna's chemistry was TV gold -- and delighted 1.5 million metro area viewers each morning.
When Shauna had done a photo spread in the men's magazine, even Andy had been impressed.
Upon being given a copy by a beaming Shauna, so proud of what she'd achieved in a small step to further her career, Andy locked himself in his dressing room. He spread the magazine centrefold out on the table and covered the photos with sperm.
This didn't break his golden rule.
It didn't break the rule about him never sleeping with his co-star. He couldn't risk damaging the chemistry. Damaging the relationship. TV needed them to be like brother and sister. Not lovers.
And yet... It had happened.
