The Stunt Double Pt. 01

Author's Note: This is the first part of a romance I'm working on. More to come!

The studio was in an old brick building, next to a Chinese restaurant and a stationary store. The lights were off, but a man was inside, washing the mirror in the back end of the studio. Tess knocked on the glass door, and without turning around, the man waved her in.

"Hi there. Are you John Reef?"

The man turned around. He was a little older than she expected, dressed unassumingly in a paint-speckled crew neck sweater and dark jeans. His face was a little weary, wrinkle lines under his eyes, his hay-colored hair speckled with gray.

"We're closed for the night. Classes start up again tomorrow morning."

"No- I'm not here for a class. I wanted to talk to you, actually."

He dropped the rag into the bucket, "Oh are you—" his voice dropped, "Are you one of Xavier's moms?"

"Moms? No I'm not—how old do you think I am?"

"I don't know, twenty something? I, uh, I, well, okay hang on, who the hell are you?"

Tess took a deep breath, reoriented herself. "I'm Tess Caledorff. I'm a grad student and I was hoping to talk to you. You know how hard this place is to find? You don't even have a website."

"I have a, what's it called, a yell page."

"Yelp. And yes, you have a ton of five star reviews, and no email address. And no phone number."

"I have a phone number. It's in the window."

"Do you know how many karate studios there are in Chicago? How's anyone supposed to find you?"

"This isn't a karate studio. But—okay. Why, exactly, are you here again?" John crossed his arms, giving the woman a good look. She was cute enough, maybe in her late twenties. And looking at her again, she was not dressed at all like the moms who came to pick up their students. She was wearing a floral sweater and cream-colored shorts with a scalloped hem, showing just enough of her toned, brown legs to be enticing. Cool, but worn, sneakers, the kind he remembered seeing in Beastie Boys music videos years ago. She wore her hair in a long, dark braid, though several of the strands had come loose and seemed to swim around her face.

"Well, I'm a grad student, like I said, in film. And I'm writing a paper about martial arts in film, and I thought it'd be helpful to get some first hand experience. I was wondering if you needed help around here. Administrative stuff, maybe making you a website."

He shrugged, "You can do billing?"

"Yeah, sure. I've worked in a tutoring center before, I can send you my resume." She reacehd into her bag, shuffling through while still trying to maintain eye contact with him. But he seemed utterly uninterested in any document she could produce.

"I can't pay you very much. Like, barely anything."

"That doesn't matter. It'd be for the experience."

"You just said there were a ton of kara—martial arts—studios in Chicago. Why not go to one of the...well, one of the nicer ones."

A faint smile crossed Tess's lips. She wasn't wearing makeup, John noticed, but her lips were full and glossy, the kind you wanted to put your thumb on before you kissed them. "Because you're John Reef."

*

That night, Tess opened her laptop to google the same thing she had googled several nights before. John Reef Stunts Reel. Top Ten Stunts in the Grim Palace Franchise. Best Stunts of the 90s. She had read all the comments on them, but she still scrolled down to see if there was anything new.

"Love the way he does the double kick at 3:27. You can tell he is a natural talent."

"Always thought that Mel Gibson did his own stunts! Cool to see behind the scenes, this guy is great."

"Immediately recognized him in the Bourne movies. No way Matt Damon moves like that."

She slid the laptop onto her nightside table. Her heart was still fluttering—she hadn't expected to feel this way. Excited, yes. It would be great for her thesis to get to know this guy. Maybe he'd come to a film screening at the University. But the thoughts of her thesis ebbed away, replaced by a much sharper desire.

He was old. Old enough to be—well not her dad, but her professor. But the sleeves on his sweater had been rolled up to reveal the most gorgeous pair of forearms she'd ever seen. Muscular and toned, his skin almost golden and clearly cared for but freckled from the sun. She imagined his hands touching her face, running through her hair, groping her body....

Research. This was for a project. It was getting late but she still felt restless. On nights like this there was an easy way to soothe her nerves, and she slid her hand down the front of her pajama pants, removing John Reef from her mind and picturing a scene from a romantic drama she'd watched a few nights ago.

It didn't last long. As she got more into the fantasy, the male lead transformed into John Reef. And the heroine—well.

"I want you so badly," she whispered as he kissed along her neck. He didn't speak, just took a step back, running his weathered hands down her arms before he pulled her sweater off over her head. Her breath caught in her throat as he pressed his mouth against hers. She opened her mouth and he immediately slipped his tongue, hot and probing, into hers. They kissed passionately for a few moments before he brought his hands from her waist to her breasts and began to grope her, aggressively, just as he bit down on her lower lip.

She gasped but he moved too quickly for her to make much noise, again covering her mouth with his and pulling her even closer to him with one arm, while the other arm continued to caress her. She reached behind her own back to unclasp her bra, which he quickly tore off of her as he began to maul her breasts with teeth and tongue and hands.

They stumbled backwards a few steps towards the couch—a fainting couch? A chaise lounge? She couldn't quite remember the film but it didn't matter. Tess was so lost in the fantasy she could practically feel his breath against her. He grabbed her ass and picked her up, throwing her onto the couch before he descended on her, yanking off her shorts and panties.

He rubbed himself against her as they continued to make out. She was moaning his name (not just in the fantasy, out loud too, perhaps louder than she should've been).

John slid his hand to her clitoris, gently rubbing his fingers against her as she writhed underneath him. It was almost overwhelming, his tongue still penetrating her mouth deeply, his fingers beginning to enter her. He was everywhere, his hands were everywhere, his mouth and teeth....

His belt jangled as he pulled one hand away from her breasts to his own pants—and just as he did she felt her body quake. Tess gripped the sheets with her free hand as she pulled herself out of the reverie and into ecstasy. Her toes and thighs clenched and unclenched, her arm jerked of its own volition. She called his name out before rolling to the side and shouting it into the pillow. John. John. John.

Her fingers were damp, and the feeling of shame she felt from masturbating to a man she knew, a man she wanted to work with, was quickly eclipsed by the sublime pleasure that was still washing over her. She stretched out, the echoes of her orgasm still resonating from every nerve in her body.

She began to drift off, her body still warm and pulsating. Perhaps this was all a mistake. Perhaps she should cancel the project, perhaps just ghost him, never walk back down that block again. Even half-asleep she felt how innately funny that was. Never see him again? Yeah right.
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The Stunt Double Pt. 01

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