RAKSHITA'S CHOICE

[sominoru]

Her heart raced as she reread the message, making sure she hadn't misunderstood. The words remained the same: "Congratulations! You and Nandu have been selected for lead roles in 'Mumbai Dreams.'" Rakshita's mind whirled with excitement and disbelief. She had dreamed of this moment for years, spending countless hours practicing her lines and perfecting her craft while also doing full time work.

As the initial shock wore off, a new worry crept in. Nandu had already left, unaware of their shared success. She tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. Frustrated, she paced her living room, unsure of what to do next.

Meanwhile, Nandu drove aimlessly through the city streets, his thoughts consumed by Rakshita's strange reaction to the text. He couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had happened, something that involved him.

Rakshita composed a text and sent it to him. She included the screenshot of the audition results. 

“Please, Nandu. Lets go together. This could be a life changing opportunity for both of us.”

Nandu read the text and then slept off. After work the next day Rakshita had a long talk with him. Nandu wasn’t that interested but agreed seeing how desperate Rakshita was to play the role and how used to she was with him picking her and dropping off at her home.  


"Action!" the director called out, his voice echoing across the bustling set.

Rakshita, now fully embodying Miss Verma, strode confidently onto the scene. Her heels clicked against the polished floor of the lavish office set, her tailored suit exuding power and wealth. She approached the desk where Nandu, transformed into Constable Nirav, stood awkwardly in his crisp uniform.

"Constable," she purred, her voice dripping with condescension, "I hope you have a good reason for interrupting my very busy day."

Nandu squared his shoulders, trying to channel Nirav's determination. "Miss Verma, I'm here to ask you a few questions about the recent... irregularities in your company's financial records."

Rakshita's eyes flashed with practiced indignation. She leaned in close, her perfectly manicured nails tapping menacingly on the desk. "Is that so, Constable? And what exactly do you think you'll find? I assure you, everything is in perfect order."

Nandu felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back. He did not memorize the script perfectly. Rakshita was pushing him to react authentically. He swallowed hard, then pressed on. He remembered the dialogues in perfect time.

"We have reason to believe there may be some... discrepancies, Miss Verma. Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere more private?"

Rakshita's lips curled into a predatory smile. She circled around the desk, her movements fluid and calculated. "Oh, I don't think that will be necessary, Constable. I have nothing to hide." She perched on the edge of the desk, crossing her legs slowly. "But if you insist on pursuing this line of inquiry, I'm sure we can come to some sort of... arrangement."

Nandu felt his breath catch in his throat. The tension between them was palpable, electric. He knew he should stick to the script, but something about Rakshita's intensity drew him in. He took a step closer, his voice lowering.

"What kind of arrangement did you have in mind, Miss Verma?"

Rakshita's eyes widened slightly, surprised by Nandu's boldness. She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "One that could be mutually beneficial, Constable. I have connections, influence. I could make your career... or break it."

The air crackled with unspoken possibilities. Nandu found himself torn between the character he was supposed to play and the magnetic pull of Rakshita's presence. 

The director's voice booms over the set, yelling "CUT!" Rakshita's heart races as she realizes it's time for the scene where she has to seduce and kiss Nandu. Her stomach churns with nerves and fear, but her desire to be a successful actress pushes her to suppress her discomfort. With a deep breath, she throws herself into the role, forcing her body to respond to Nandu's touch and his lips on hers. Despite the inner turmoil, she maintains a facade of professionalism, determined to make this scene believable at any cost.

As the director called for action once more, Rakshita steeled herself, pushing down the butterflies in her stomach. She was a professional, she reminded herself. This was just another scene, another character to inhabit.

Nandu, on the other hand, felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. He had never done a kissing scene before, let alone with someone he knew so well. As Miss Verma, Rakshita sauntered towards him, her eyes smoldering with practiced seduction.

"Now, Constable," she purred, running a finger along his collar, "let's see if we can come to an understanding."

Nandu, as Constable Nirav, tried to maintain his composure, but his voice trembled slightly. "Miss Verma, I... I don't think this is appropriate."

Rakshita leaned in closer, her breath hot on his ear. "Oh, but it could be so much more than appropriate, Constable. It could be... delightful."

With that, she pressed her lips to his. Nandu froze for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of the kiss. But then, almost instinctively, he responded, his arms wrapping around her waist.

The kiss deepened, and for a moment, Nandu forgot he was acting. There was a spark, an electricity that he did not anticipate. Rakshita's fingers tangled in Nandu's hair, while his hands pressed against the small of her back, drawing her closer.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Rakshita's eyes widened, a flicker of confusion passing over her face before she quickly masked it with Miss Verma's confident smirk.

"Cut!" the director called out, his voice cutting through the tension on set. "That was... intense. Great work, you two."

Rakshita and Nandu stepped apart, suddenly aware of the crew and cameras surrounding them. They avoided each other's eyes, both flushed and slightly disoriented.

"Let's take five," the director announced. "We'll run it one more time, then move on to the next scene."

As the crew bustled around them, resetting lights and touching up makeup, Rakshita retreated to a quiet corner of the set. Her mind was reeling. What had just happened? That kiss... it was supposed to be acting, wasn't it? But the way Nandu had responded, the way his body had reacted – it felt all too real.

Nandu, for his part, was equally shaken. He grabbed a bottle of water, gulping it down as quickly as possible. 

“Nandu. Don’t get any ideas. This was all just acting!”, she whispered in his ears angrily and then heads to the restroom to wash her lips. 

Nandu watched Rakshita storm off to the restroom, feeling a mix of confusion and hurt. He knew she was right - it was just acting. But something about that kiss had felt different, electric. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. They were just acting, and he needed to focus on the job at hand.

When Rakshita returned, her face was a mask of cool professionalism. She nodded curtly to Nandu as they took their positions for another take. The director called action, and they fell back into character.

This time, the kiss was mechanical, devoid of the passion that had ignited before. Rakshita's lips were stiff against Nandu's, her body rigid in his arms. When the director yelled cut, she immediately pulled away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Much better," the director praised, happy with the output. 

The set had been transformed into a luxurious bathroom, steam rising from the running shower. Rakshita stood wrapped in a plush white towel, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders. Nandu entered, his uniform now rumpled and partly unbuttoned.

"Miss Verma," he said, his voice husky. "I... I shouldn't be here."

Rakshita turned, letting the towel slip slightly. "But you are here, Constable. The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

She stepped closer, droplets of water glistening on her skin. Nandu's breath caught as she placed a hand on his chest.

"I could ruin you," she whispered, her lips inches from his. "Or I could make all your wildest dreams come true."

Nandu's hand trembled as he reached up to touch her face 

Nandu's fingers traced the curve of Rakshita's cheek, his touch feather-light. "This is wrong," he murmured, even as he leaned in closer.

Rakshita's eyes fluttered closed. "Then why does it feel so right?" she breathed, her lips barely grazing his.

The steam swirled around them, creating a cocoon of heat and tension. Rakshita's hand slid up Nandu's chest, pushing his shirt open further. Her fingertips danced across his skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Tell me to stop," she whispered, her voice a mix of challenge and plea.

Nandu's response was to pull her closer, one hand tangling in her damp hair while the other gripped her waist. The towel slipped further, revealing the smooth curve of her upper breast.

Rakshita's heart raced as Nandu pulled her closer. On the surface, she exuded seduction and desire, but internally she was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Her skin tingled where Nandu touched her, sending unwanted shivers down her spine. She forced herself to lean into his embrace, to let her towel slip further, revealing more skin.

"Is this what you want, Constable?" she purred, her voice low and sultry even as her stomach churned with discomfort. 

Nandu's eyes darkened with desire. "God help me, but yes," he growled, pulling her flush against him.

Rakshita's mind screamed at her to stop, to push him away, but she knew she had to see this scene through. Her career depended on it. She tilted her head back, exposing the column of her throat. 

Nandu kissed her neck and started going down.

“Drop the towel completely!”, the director’s voice echoed.

Rakshita only had an underwear and a flimsy bra underneath. She steeled herself. 

Rakshita hesitated for a moment, her fingers trembling as they gripped the edge of the towel. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. This was just acting, she reminded herself. Just another scene. With a practiced motion, she let the towel fall to the floor.

Nandu's sharp intake of breath was audible. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in every curve and contour. Rakshita fought the urge to cover herself, instead forcing her body to relax, to appear confident and alluring.

"Like what you see, Constable?" she purred, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Nandu nodded, seemingly at a loss for words. His hands hovered uncertainly, unsure where to touch.

Rakshita took his hands in hers, guiding them to her waist. "Don't be shy," she whispered.
 

Rakshita's delicate lace bra did little to conceal her curves. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, straining against the sheer fabric. Nandu's eyes were drawn to the soft swell of her cleavage, a flush creeping up his neck.

His hands, guided by Rakshita's, settled on her waist. The warmth of her skin under his palms seemed to ignite something within him. With a low growl, he pulled her flush against him, his lips crashing down on hers.

Rakshita gasped, caught off guard by the intensity of his passion. Nandu's kisses trailed down her neck, across her collarbone. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra.

"Constable," she breathed, fighting to stay in character despite her discomfort, "we shouldn't..."

But 

Rakshita's lacy black bra provided a tantalizing contrast against her golden skin. The delicate fabric cupped her breasts enticingly, revealing just enough to ignite Nandu's imagination. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath, betraying her inner tension despite her outward composure.

Nandu's eyes darkened with undisguised desire as he took in the sight before him.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear.

Rakshita arched into him, suppressing a shudder. "Then show me how much you want me," she challenged, her voice husky.

Something seemed to snap in Nandu. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, and then went directly for her cleavage and planted a kiss there.

Rakshita gasped at the sensation of Nandu's lips on her sensitive skin. Her fingers tangled in his hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away. The rational part of her mind screamed that this was unprofessional, that he was blurring the lines between their characters and themselves. But the heat of Nandu's mouth, the strength of his arms around her, made it impossible to think clearly.

"Cut!" The director's voice shattered the moment. "That's not in the script!"

Reality came crashing back. Rakshita and Nandu sprang apart, faces flushed with a mixture of desire and embarrassment. The set around them buzzed with whispers and poorly concealed snickers from the crew.

"I... I'm sorry," Nandu stammered, avoiding Rakshita's gaze. "I got carried away."

Rakshita was angry. 

“Actually, you know what? It makes the scene come out alive. Lets redo it. Unhook her bra and pull it down slowly and kiss her there.”, the director thoughtfully said. 
 

Rakshita's eyes widened in shock at the director's suggestion. She opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. Nandu looked equally stunned, his gaze darting between Rakshita and the director.

"Are you sure that's... appropriate?" Rakshita finally managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

The director nodded enthusiastically. "It's perfect! The sexual tension between Miss Verma and Constable Nirav has been building for so long. This is the moment it finally explodes. It needs to be raw, passionate, real."

Rakshita felt her cheeks burning. She glanced at Nandu, who seemed to be studying the floor intently. The rest of the crew watched in awkward silence, waiting to see what would happen next.

Taking a deep breath, Rakshita squared her shoulders and nodded.

 

"Alright," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Let's do it."

Nandu's head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of surprise and something deeper, more primal. Rakshita gave him a small nod, granting permission.

The director clapped his hands. "Excellent! Places, everyone. And... action!"

They began the scene again, the tension between them now palpable. When they reached the moment of the kiss, Nandu's hands trembled slightly as they moved to Rakshita's back. He fumbled with the clasp of her bra, his fingers clumsy with nerves.

Rakshita leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "It's okay," she whispered, so softly only he could hear. "Just breathe."

Nandu nodded almost imperceptibly, taking a steadying breath. His fingers found the clasp of Rakshita's bra, and this time, he managed to unhook it smoothly. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes meeting hers, seeking final confirmation.

Rakshita gave an almost imperceptible nod, her heart racing. She felt vulnerable yet strangely empowered as Nandu slowly, carefully, began to pull the lacy fabric down. The cool air of the set kissed her newly exposed skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

Nandu's lips descended, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to the swell of her breast. Rakshita couldn't suppress the small gasp that escaped her lips - it wasn't entirely acting anymore. Her fingers tangled in Nandu's hair, partly to stay in character, partly to ground herself in the moment.

Nandu's lips parted, his mouth enveloping Rakshita's dark brown nipple. She arched away from him instinctively as he began to suckle, his tongue swirling and teasing the sensitive peak. A tremor ran through Rakshita's body, her breath catching in her throat. She tightened her grip on Nandu's hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away. 



The line between Miss Verma and Rakshita blurred as waves of sensations radiated from her breast. She bit her lip, struggling to stay in character as Nandu's ministrations sent sparks of electricity coursing through her. A soft moan escaped her, and she prayed the director would call cut. In this moment, Nandu wasn't sure if she wanted the scene to end or go on forever.

"Cut!", the director yells. 

Rakshita's face flushed crimson as the director approached, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest. Nandu stepped back, looking equally flustered. 

"No, no, all wrong," the director said, shaking his head. "Nandu, you need to be more passionate, more primal. Like this."

To Rakshita's shock, the director bent down and demonstrated on her exposed breast, his mouth hot and insistent. She gasped, her body betraying her with an involuntary shudder of pleasure.

"See?" the director said, pulling away. "That's how it's done. Now you try, Nandu."

Nandu hesitated, his eyes meeting Rakshita's. She gave a small nod, steeling herself. 

They both sucked on her tits at the same time. The director showing how and Nandu trying to mimic his actions. 

Rakshita's mind reeled in shock as she felt both men's mouths on her breasts simultaneously. The director's technique was practiced and aggressive, while Nandu's approach was more tentative but filled with genuine desire. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the dual sensations. She felt two pairs of hands massaging her breasts and they both were sucking on her nipples like a new born baby.
She watched them get completely lost making sucking noises loudly. Her cheeks became flushed red with embarrassment.  

A low moan escaped her lips before she could stop it.