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"Working late, Miss Bellweather?" the overnight guard at Studio One said, glancing down at me. Judging by the spike strip, this gate was intended to stop people driving into the private parking lot. That might have worked well for the canine guard's family members, but even the boom gate would prove little barrier for me.

One of the many advantages of being a dragon. Still, I wasn't about to fly into the parking lot unannounced, so I had walked up to the gate and smiled politely. "This is my big break. I don't want to mess it up," I replied.

"Well, you're not the only one," the dog said, nodding. "Your co-star's still there from afternoon rehearsal."

I blinked. "My..." I started to say. Could he be? Working for the last four hours alone? No wonder he was who he was. "Andaran Schulmann?"

"Not unusual, Miss. Mr. Schulmann often works late at the studio. Likes to really get his characters down. Good to see you've got that same gleam in your eye, Miss Bellweather. With luck, you'll be as famous as he is one day."

"Thank you," I replied, carefully lifting my four feet over the spike strip as I trotted toward Theatre 2, where I knew he'd be working. I lifted my tail to hike my pink dress so that it wouldn't get snagged. I knew in some countries, feral gryphons and dragons didn't need to wear clothes, but I would have felt pretty awkward naked, and besides, I'd always liked to dress up.

Andaran Schulmann was the A-list of A-list celebrities, and he was the reason my career was _finally_about to launch. Lord knows I'd been trying to get a high-profile film for years, and I wasn't getting any younger. There just weren't very many roles for a black dragoness like me, and there were two other actresses who got all the big roles. Which is why "Unstoppable" was the perfect picture for me.

My agent finally snagged a blockbuster, and I even played across the lead. Schulmann lead this biopic as the blue dragon Lyall Corwin, retired Vietnam war vet who returned to the battlefield in Iraq. When the military wouldn't put him in the field, Lyall joined a private contractor, leaving his wife and kids to fight the good fight for our country. He was part of the mercenary team that defied his company's orders to stand down, instead charging into a fight to rescue American troops from an ambush.

I played Samantha Corwin, Lyall's wife. It was a bit part with only three scenes, but a major breakthrough for my career. In the first scene, I react with Andaran to 9/11, in the second, I urge him to stay, but then demurely accept that he has to follow his conscience and go fight, and then we share a sex scene before he flies out with Black Company. A sex scene with Andaran Schulmann!

What girl _wouldn't_be nervous? I'd grown up idolizing the big, strong drake since I was thirteen, along with hundreds-of-thousands of other girls. Of course, we wouldn't be actually _doing_anything on screen beyond a little dry humping and moaning for the camera, but I blushed just thinking about it. I couldn't help but grin that all the girls back in high school would be so jealous of me.

"Beep-beep-a-boop-beepbeep-beep-a-beepabeepa!"

I was just reaching up with my talons to open the front door of Theatre 2 when my phone went off. I fumbled for the hidden pocket in my dress - another advantage of clothes. Snaking a finger through the large hole on the device, I pulled it up to my ear. "Hello?"

"Fara, darling! I have good news!"

My agent always started his phone calls this way. Normally I would roll my eyes, but his last "good news" was to announce my role in "Unstoppable". Still, I was skeptical. "Let's hear the bad news first," I replied grimly.

"What? No bad news, just good news! I got you "Rothchild's Baby"! You start production in five months."

I blinked. "Rothchild's Baby" was a new Spielberg epic, easily as high-profile as Unstoppable. "Oh my God!" I gasped. "I got it? Did I get the maid with the speaking part?"

"Maid, no!" my agent yelled. "I got you the lead, baby. Thanks to this part in "Unstoppable" Spielberg said he wanted you. You beat out Ros for the role!"

Rosalina Heartrow was the Meg Ryan of dragon actresses, and I'd lost over a dozen roles to her before. Spielberg must be looking for a new face. "The lead...!?"

"You're gonna be a star, baby! Just make sure you don't mess things up on Unstoppable - one word from Schulmann and you're out, so you better watch what you say. I heard a lights man mentioned 'the Cassini incident" in Andaran's earshot, and he got blackballed to oblivion. Keep him happy, and "Rothchild's Baby" is a done deal."

I thanked him again and hung up the phone, walking through the dark halls of Theatre 2. As if I would mention "the Cassini incident" to Schulmann! It had been all over the news a few months back. A green dragoness in Monterey went on all the local news channels claiming that she had been knocked up by Andaran Schulmann after a shoot for the film "Dragonheart". Schulmann denied it of course, and his lawyers went to work on Cassini, digging up dirt. Cassini had demanded a paternity test from Schulmann, but the drake refused, which made every news channel in the country assume his guilt, but he maintained that he couldn't possibly have done what the green suggested. I think there was a settlement outside of court? By the end of the fiasco, Andaran was still getting top pictures and everything bad that Cassini had ever done was public knowledge. She would never get an acting job again.

Apparently the whole debacle was still a sore spot for the blue drake.

I was still so excited about the new role that I almost ran straight into Andaran as I walked around a corner. He had to leap to the side, his enormous bulk causing the ground to shake when he landed. "Oops, sorry," I said, chagrinned. He and I had spoken a few times before about the film, but this was the first I'd ever been alone with him. I tried not to let myself get star-struck, actually standing in front of the great Schulmann.

Still, I couldn't help but blush a little. The big, blue drake's scaled glistened in the dim lights of the hallway, showing off the layers of rippling muscle on his chest. I glanced further down as discretely as possible to find that he was only wearing form-fitting, black shorts, the bare minimum for decency. He was practically in his underwear! Why on earth was he half-naked in the studio late at night!? I tried to speak but I couldn't form the words.

"I'm glad you're here, Sam," he said, ignoring my apology and my flustered face. "I'm trying to feel my motivation for the first scene, but I need you."

I blinked. The first scene, when Lyall is trimming hedges and I call him in to watch 9/11 unfold on the News. I let out a deep breath, realizing that he was in costume. The director wanted Andaran shirtless as he used the trimmers, to show off his pristine body to the cameras. Looking up at the drake, I said, "My name's Fara..."

"That's amateur talk. While we're working together, you're Samantha and I'm Lyall Corwin. Now come on and let's run lines. You know your lines and backstory, right?"

I blinked again. His tone was completely professional. I felt a pit in my stomach when he called me an amateur, but he didn't say it with any malice. His question seemed rhetorical, but I answered it affirmatively anyway.

"Good," he said, turning around to walk back to the set.

I padded after him, tucking my wings tight against my pink dress. I had to hold my breath, walking behind the blue drake, my eyes unwittingly following his pert rump, concealed rather poorly by the tight fitting shorts. This wasn't just anyone's rump I was ogling - this was Andaran Schulmann himself! Each step made the muscles beneath the cloth contract and relax, and I had to wonder if he was hiking his tail for me... His musky scent filled my nostrils and for a minute I was in another place, imaging all the times I'd fingered myself beneath the bedsheets as a teenager, thinking of him.

Down, girl! I told myself, reminding myself that I was a professional and he was a professional and we had a job to do. Why couldn't my heat have come a week earlier?

I was so distracted that I barely saw Andaran tilt his head back to look at me, one, piercing yellow eye glancing back at me. He couldn't have known where exactly I was looking, but heat rushed to my face as I looked up at him, catching my breath.

"It's good to see someone else willing to burn the midnight oil to put their whole selves into their role. With all the Adam Sandler movies coming out these days, I had to wonder if _real_acting were dead!" he said, smiling.

"Oh, I know what you mean," I said quickly, remembering that Andaran's opinion of me was vital to my career. I'd always kind of liked Sandler movies, but I wasn't about to disagree with a great actor like Schulmann! "The role comes first, right Anda - Lyall?"

He chuckled, the deep bass sound echoing through his broad chest. "Good catch, Samantha."

We finally reached the set, and Andaran flipped on the set lights, flooding the dark studio. He walked over to the hedges, a perfect image of real bushes in a real yard, despite being completely in a studio. Behind the hedge was a green wall - the editors would add the outside world in post-production. Kind of lame, but who was I to complain? I took my position at the front door, reciting the lines in my head. I'd better not embarrass myself in front of Andaran!

He picked up the big shears in his talons, pretending to clip the bushes, chest heaving as he acted all out of breath. Stepping forward, I said, "Lyall, come quick!", throwing the weight of my emotions behind it. I reached into my own past, remembering when I first found out the towers had been struck on the bus between classes in college. I tried to reflect that terror in my words.

"Give it another shot, Sam," Andaran said simply, breaking scene. "That was too much - you are confused and uncertain, not angry and horrified. All you see is smoke on the tower."

I took a deep breath. It hurt to hear his criticisms, but I'd been taught to take the good with the bad. He wasn't wrong. I tried again.

"Better," he said, interrupting again. "Your words don't match your face. Try relaxing your brow ridges; your lips will show the feeling on its own."

We worked together on the line for what seemed like an eternity, but Andaran never got angry, never got frustrated. He helped me with facial expression, body posture, intonation and breathing. By the time we were done, my line was perfect. "Thank you, Andaran, that w-"

"Lyall," he corrected, simply.

Together, we stood watching a blank T.V. as we reacted to imagined lines from the news media. Andaran was perfect. Would I have critiqued him if he'd made a mistake? I didn't have to decide. I was working with a master of his craft. After that, we worked on the pool-side scene, where Andaran finally tells me he _has_to go to Iraq. After another two hours, my part felt as flawless as his. I was exhilarated, warm blood flowing beneath my scales. I was having trouble with the heavier lines because my heart was swelling within me.

Or was that just my heat? The studio was fairly big, but we'd been working for a while, and Andaran's musk was definitely settling around us. I could only imagine how my own scent must be affecting him, but he never said anything, and made no effort to stop. No, my feelings were genuine. He was a big, strong drake, sure, but my attraction to the actor was more than a heat-fueled crush. He was so warm and helpful and honest, I couldn't help it. Blushing, I was glad that I'd broken up with my boyfriend the month before. Andaran seemed to like me as well, and I could only imagine the fairytale of falling together in love with Andaran Schulmann.

"Are you ready for scene three?" he asked.

I blinked. Scene three, the sex scene. "Um...what do you mean?" I asked softly.

"We don't have to, if you don't feel comfortable," he said. "If we're going to be convincing we're going to need to practice."

"Here? Now? Alone?" I asked, head swimming slightly with the lack of oxygen as I held my breath.

"Don't worry about it, Samantha. We can do it with the director present if that makes you feel better."

"No, no," I gasped, not at all ready for anything like this. But I couldn't back down now, and have Andaran think badly of me. Not only did I want to please him, I needed him to like me for my career. "I'm not afraid. Let's do it."

"Good," he rumbled, walking to the next scene. "Go get changed." He was wearing the large, black shirt and denim pants that he was wearing in the pool scene, but I still needed to change from my pink dress. I clambered over to my dressing room, taking a deep breath.

You can do this, Fara. I scanned the script quickly, looking for every note, every step, every moment that I could screw up. Shirking off my dress, I decided to change panties, since mine were damp. Andaran would be sliding my skirt off my legs, so I'd need to be covered for the cameras (during the shoot anyway). I pulled the wet cloth off and grabbed the replacement, but I paused. If he really_wants to be convincing, I should keep the heat-drenched one..._

I put one leg through and then the other, the wet cloth nestling snugly back up against my vent. Soon enough, Andaran would be staring down at my lightly clothed crotch, the mere thought making me tremble. What am I doing? We're just actors doing a scene. He's not interested in me_, he just wants to act well for the cameras!_Still, I kept the heat-soaked panties on. Let him decide what to do about them when he got to them.

When I rejoined Andaran, I was wearing a loose, blue blouse that matched the actor's scales and a light, purple skirt that hid my wet secret. What will he do when he pulls down my skirt and sees my arousal? He'll think I'm some sort of slut! I thought quickly about returning to the dressing room, but he saw me, and said, "Great, stand here. We'll enter the bedroom together, and I'll throw you on the bed. Are you ready, Sam?"

Heart thumping, I said, "Yes."

"Action!" he bellowed, grabbing me right off my feet with his huge talons.

He lifted me by my forelegs, his huge, feral form upright as his hind legs strained with my weight. I could hardly believe he could carry me; I was lighter than he, but not by much. With four heavy steps, he pushed through the door, and suddenly we were kissing. I knew, of course, that the scene called for it, but I was still taken aback the ferocity of Andaran's tongue pushing into my muzzle. It felt so real, it couldn't have just been acting. I dug my claws into his shoulder only to be ripped away from the blue drake when he tossed me backwards onto the bed.

I gazed up at him, panting, as he sat up, removing his black shirt for the (fictional) cameras before lowering his hands to his pants. I watched with anticipation, but mostly because the scene called for it. I knew that underneath his pants he would be wearing underwear that the cameras would never show. I opened my muzzle and let my forked tongue spill out in appreciation as my 'husband' slid off his pants.

And his underwear.

"Andaran!?" I asked in shock as he stripped naked right in front of me. I could see everything, his light blue vent between his legs, and a little bit of black peeking out. So his arousal isn't_just an act_... Still, I couldn't believe he had done that.

"Cut! My name's Lyall," he gasped. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"You're...you're naked!" I gasped.

He paused, looking confused for a moment, then said, "I'm sorry, I assumed... I know we won't be during filming, but I like to do practice scenes as close to real as possible. The more realistic off screen, the more realistic on."

"You want to _actually_have sex? To get into character!?"

"No, Sam. I just meant to do the scene naked. But if you're not comfortable with that..."

"No, wait..." I said, sighing. I'm not an amateur, I can do this. "I just wasn't sure what you were intending. We can do it naked."

"Good," he said, putting his clothes back on. "Back to positions!"

Again he grabbed me, again he kissed me, and again he threw me on the bed. This time I watched without interruption as Andaran revealed the growing tips of his hemipenes, my eyes locked on his throbbing girth. I shivered in a way that was no act as he padded onto the end of the bed. I slid my blouse off to reveal my light black scales (one advantage of being a dragon is that I had no nipples to offend the MPAA raters).

Andaran reached up to my blue skirt, snaking a claw around the waist and tugging gently on the cloth. The cameras would be able to see this, thanks to my panties, zoomed in close as my black thighs were revealed, the thin cloth barely concealing my heat-swollen mound. Though during the shoot, they wouldn't be drenched already. I glanced up at Andaran to see his reaction, but if he noticed my musk-drenched panties, he didn't say anything.

I bit my lip as he grabbed the panties, now. No way_this_ would make it past editing! Still, if this was what Andaran needed to get into character, I wasn't about to object. I needed him to like me. Wriggling my rump, I helped him slowly reveal my naked, glistening vent. I'd never done a scene like this, even in practice, but I knew that to be a real actress, I would have to be open-minded. I arched my neck and moaned, as the scene called for a shot of me enjoying cunnilingus.

Only...it wasn't an act! As I prepared myself for a fake grunt, I felt something warm and wet against my pussy. Eyes wide, I gasped to see that Andaran had actually spread my legs apart and slathered his tongue against my heat-swollen folds. I was about to object, but I managed to stifle it. I knew he was just playing his part, and he'd explain that he assumed I was comfortable with that rather...invasive touch. After all, is there really a big difference between play-kissing with dry-humping and slurping up my fertile pussy?

Yes! But even though his move shocked me, could I really object? I'd already interrupted the scene once, and he'd promised he wouldn't try to go all the way. Didn't he? Or maybe he'd sniffed my panties and lost all control! I couldn't help but think of "the Cassini incident" - is this what had happened to her? Suddenly, I really regretted coming to this studio alone with Andaran at night.

But no, that couldn't be. He'd been a perfect gentleman, and really helped me with my role. I was reading too much into this, and besides, it _did_feel good. I took a deep breath and panted, spreading my legs as the big, blue drake began to press his tongue up against my slit, pushing harder and harder until I felt my wet lips part. "Unnnngh!" I groaned, pressing my hips up against his muzzle.

He kept slurping, though he seemed expectant - oh right, my line! I said, "Oh, Lyall, give me a night to remember you by. I don't know what I'll do until you get back."

"I won't forget you for one night out there, Sam. You and the kids are the reason I _have_to go," he said, pulling his tongue free with a wet _splorp!_He lifted himself further onto the bed, climbing over me now as he transitioned to the next scene: missionary. I glanced beneath him, shuddering to see his hemipenes dangling almost full beneath him. I don't think anyone could fake that kind of arousal. Even his spines were rigid!

He lay down on top of me, his broad chest obscuring his cock, but I could feel it resting up against my wet cunt, just a foot from my unprotected egg-chamber. He wouldn't really try it, would he? He knew that I was in heat, didn't he? We kissed, his wet tongue leaving the pungent flavor of my heat in my mouth. Good God, I wanted to just lay back, spread my legs, and take him all, but I couldn't, and he wouldn't. Why didn't I take the pill? I broke the kiss (as well as the script) and whispered in his ear, "We can't, I'm in heat."

With my muzzle next to his ear slits, his was next to mine, and he whispered, "It's okay, Sam, I have a vasectomy."

A vasectomy! No wonder he could so firmly deny that he'd knocked Cassini up, and I could certainly understand why he didn't want to make public his reason why. Not that anything was wrong with a vasectomy, but surely people would make jokes about his manhood, and his female fans might think less of him. Not me, of course - it was a safe, convenient, and reversible surgery. And it prevented the last thing stopping me from a really great fuck with Andaran Schulmann!

"Do it, Lyall! Take me!" I gasped, wriggling my black-scaled hips until I felt his right hemipenis scratching up against my folds. Curling my hind legs around the drake's powerful hips, I kissed the gorgeous actor and squeezed. Andaran grunted as I pulled myself up against his hemipenis, my lips bulging around his fat cock. I roared as he plunged inside of me, my tail curling and thrashing beneath him.

"Oh, God, Sam!" he cried, pushing himself deeper. I could feel the dull ridges _thudding_into me, his barbs raking along the inside of my pussy like any good dragon would do. His free hemipenis rubbed up against my scales, already leaking his neutered semen onto my belly.

This is it, I thought, I'm fucking Schulmann! If he doesn't like me after this_, I don't know what else I could do!_"Rothchild's Baby" was mine for sure! Not that I was whoring myself out for my career...right? I put that thought in the back of my mind and kissed the big, blue hunk.

God, he was huge - could easily have been a porn star if he weren't too good for those films. I'd never felt so stuffed, his right dick finally hilting inside of me. I felt like a black bulge around him, his fleshy tip pounding up against my shuddering cervix. The bed shook and squeaked with each thrust, grinding my wings into the blankets beneath us. I tilted my muzzle and wrapped my maw sideways around his, our tongue twirling together. Our muffled grunts and moans rang out in the empty studio.

Andaran broke our kiss for the last line of the scene, saying, "Every night, Sam, think about tonight, and I'll think about it too, and no matter how far away I am, we'll be together in spirit."

My reply was just to moan and kiss him again, which I would have done with or without the cue. The rest of the scene was furious fucking, and we'd need to heat what the director planned for more details, but the script was clear that it wanted at least two positions: missionary, and doggy-style, to appear to different audiences. Filled to the brim with Andaran's cock, I was more than ready for an extended rehearsal.

We humped and moaned and kissed and shuddered together there on the bed, and I knew that Andaran wasn't playing Lyall. The way he looked at me was so true, so genuine - he was making love to Fara Bellweather, not Samantha Corwin. I felt an electrical shock each time he hilted himself within me and I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way. Perhaps this first movie would be something we tell our grandchildren - once I convinced him to undo the surgery, anyway. "Harder, Lyall!" I gasped, grinding my pussy against his crotch.

"Oh Sam...oh Sam!" he groaned, adlibbing. Every stroke of his hips sent his bristles raking through my cunt, and I knew my clutch would be waiting expectantly for something that would never come. Even if my eggs wouldn't be satisfied, I certainly_was. I'd never had bare-back sex while in heat, before - condoms always dulled the sensation. He was literally scratching an itch inside of me, my young, feral body prepping itself for a motherhood that wouldn't come. But it felt..._incredible.

"Do it! Fill me up!" I gasped, knowing that line would be too racy for the big screen. I didn't care anymore, I just needed to feel his sterile sperm flooding my womb. Just _wait_until I told my friends what I'd been doing tonight! Or rather...who. I curled my tail around his, squeezing to pull myself even harder against him, clenching around his trembling cock. I felt him growing inside of me, trying to inflate and seal himself in. I rammed myself up against him, his knot finally sealing with my bulging cunt, tying me to him until he was quite done with me.

"Nnnnhhg!" is all he could say, and I knew the time had come. Spreading my legs, I tossed my head back and bellowed needily. Andaran gave me what I needed. The frills on his head flared even as his cocktip did, anchoring itself sharply against my innermost wall. His hips began to quiver, and I knew his testes were convulsing, a sudden flood of blanks gushing through his right shaft to splatter my cervix. Roaring, I dug my claws into his thick scales, not doing any real damage, but clinging onto him for dear life as he faux seeded me.

He held himself, deep and twitching, more and more cum flooding my pussy. I'll give him one thing - this scene would be child's play now - I knew exactly how to feel and how to act, and our genuine affection for each other would shine through in every scene, now. I slid a talon down to my belly, feeling myself expand as he filled me, his knot preventing a single drop from escaping, his cum sloshing around my womb and drowning my disappointed eggs.

"Oh Lyall...Lyall!" I gasped, chest heaving.

"God, you're beautiful," he gasped, _splurting_another load deep inside of me. "I never want this night to end!" He kissed me again, furiously, and we held that kiss for the next several minutes of humping, pumping, and cumming.

Only when he collapsed, exhausted, on me did I have time to catch my breath. I groaned as he slowly deflated until finally the floodgate broke and his cum flowed out of me onto my tail. "It doesn't have to end yet..." I said, smiling up at the blue and rubbing my right thigh up against his left hemipenis. He was dripping, but still full, ready with another load of sterile semen.

Andaran just grinned, and pulled out of me, grabbing my shoulders in his powerful claws and flipping me over onto my belly. I could hear the_sloshing_ in my womb, but I wasn't full yet. Shivering, I lifted my rump beneath him, hiking my big, black tail to the left for him.

Only now with his chest pinning my wings to my back could I really appreciate his size. He wasn't much taller than me, but he was far broader, with huge, rippling muscles. He might even be twice my weight. My forelegs didn't have the strength to lift me up, so my upper body remained pinned to the bed, my hind legs straining to hold the blue drake up.

"Ready for round two?" he asked, sliding his hips flush with mine, his neck curled so that he could look down at me with a wide grin. I could feel his unspent hemipenis rubbing up against my well-used slit, and I shuddered.

"Ye -" I started to say.

He gave me a wide grin, his tongue spilling out of his snout as he interrupted me with a heavy thrust. I squealed as his fat cock speared me, shoving my vent apart with a thud thud thud as his evenly spaced ridges wedged into my tight cunt, sealing the vast majority of his first load inside of me. Once his knot was in place, would I be able to take it all? My stomach was already sticking out like I'd swallowed a large sheep.

_Too late to worry about that now!_I couldn't stop myself from spreading my legs like a good dragoness in heat, rocking up and down to help him wiggle that last few inches until his knot was pressed wetly against my straining lips.

"Oh Lya -" I started to scream.

But that was when he reached down with his maw, closing his powerful jaws around the back of my slender, black neck. He bit deep, enough to hurt, holding me in place as he roared. If anyone was still in the building, they'd come running, the sound making the walls vibrate with our love-making. With that announcement, Andaran pulled back, his backwards-facing barbs searing into my sensitive flesh. I slid backwards across the bed from the force of his pull-back, ridges _popping_out of me one by one until just his engorged tip lay inside of me.

"Lyall!" I moaned, knowing that saying anything longer would have been a futile exercise.

He pounded forward, the bed _squeaking_loudly, and I wailed beneath him. I'd never been dominated so thoroughly by a drake - I felt like a whimpering bitch, existing only to please my huge stud. My heat-flushed body would be releasing egg after egg, knowing instinctively that I was mating with a truly impressive beast. I knew that I had millions of eggs, but I wondered after the end of this night whether I'd be all out, the way he was plowing me. His twitching cock sent shudders down my scales that engulfed my mind.

I was his.

"Harder!" I gasped, wiggling my rump. The bed felt like it was being torn apart, its squeals echoing my own as Andaran began to slam his swollen bulge again and again against my aching vent. His other hemipenis smeared what little juice he had left against my abdomen, a distinct image of exactly how deeply buried its twin was. Yowling, I curled my tail around his, squeezing tightly.

He couldn't talk with his teeth on my nape, so I did the talking for both of us. Again and again his knot _splorped_forward and _thudded_against my engorged vent, wet _squirts_heralding the flood. "Oh God, Andaran!" I moaned. "Knot me like the dirty slut that I am! Fill my belly till I burst!"

Grunting, the big, blue drake strained all of his muscles and slammed his hips forward, the blow so powerful that my pussy lips popped out and around his knot almost without realizing it. My undertail was nothing more than a huge, swollen ball to hold him deep against my cervix, and that was exactly what the gorgeous dragon needed.

He let go of my neck to toss his head back and _roar_again, the bed shaking violently beneath us. They'd need to fortify it for the shoot. I let my voice join his, our lusty bellows echoing down the halls as the first gush shot down my distended canal.

Sure enough, not a drop escaped, and I was already bulging. The next fire-hose of cum splattered straight into my womb, stretching it wider and wider until my belly reached the bed beneath me. Rope after rope blasted in, making a warm, bubbling puddle of infertile cum for my eggs to bathe.

Ever true to his form, even after our straining bodies collapsed exhausted onto our sides, Andaran said, "Oh, Samantha...I'm going to miss you every night I'm out there."

I lay in his warm embrace for a few more seconds, still tied deep to his spurting cock. I shivered with every breath he took, his chest rising up against my back. I slid my talons to my enormous belly, his cream sloshing around inside of me. I'd never felt better.

"And...scene," Andaran declared, smiling down at me.

* * * * *

Working with Andaran on "Unstoppable" passed like a dream. Sure, he had a hundred more scenes than I did, but the director decided to film my scenes near the end. That gave the two of us plenty of time to 'practice'. Every other night we'd meet up and run some lines. Sometimes, I helped Andaran by reading for another character for tomorrow's shoot, sometimes we just talked, and sometimes we ran my first two scenes.

But usually, we just ran the third one. Again, and again. Even though I tried to mix things up by offering to try something new, Andaran seemed content to run the scene straight. Almost every night I spread my legs and took his right cock, then lifted my rump and took the left, shuddering and moaning beneath the well-endowed drake. When we finally did shoot the scene, I was almost disappointed to run it wearing clothes, and to only pretend. Still, we'd run our 'lines' so often that we knew it like we knew our own mothers, and even the director seemed surprised by the intensity of our scene.

It was the day after our final shoot with only a week or so until the end of filming that I realized something was wrong. I wasn't feeling great, and I'd gained a lot of weight. Then, my clock-work period didn't make an appearance. I don't think I was really conscious as I waited for the test results, tail thrashing as I stared into space, but I knew the result even before I glanced at the green plus sign.

But how? I'd been with only Andaran since my last heat, and he'd gotten a vasectomy! Maybe the surgery had been botched? I felt a pit in my stomach, realizing what this meant: there was no way I'd be able to take "Rothchild's Baby" in a few months. Even if I dared put my clutch up for adoption, my body would take time to recover. Already my belly was starting to stretch with Andaran's clutch, and it would only get worse as the months passed.

_Why didn't we use protection!?_I thought. Even if the vasectomy had worked, a condom would have protected both of use from whatever. How did I let myself get so caught up in the moment? I could have taken plan d, for dragons, the day after, but now it was too late. Almost nothing could get a clutch free from a dragon's belly - even if I'd wanted to end the pregnancy, I couldn't. Our eggs were here to stay.

I'd have to tell Andaran of course - tomorrow. I took a deep breath, wondering how he would react. He'll do right by me, won't he? Maybe this clutch was a blessing in disguise, the catalyst to take our relationship to the next level. I could tell how much he adored me, and I'd certainly felt it time and time again beneath my tail.

The next day after the end of the shoot, I walked up to Andaran's dressing room, knocked on the door and cleared my throat awkwardly.

"Yes, Sam?" he asked, after opening the door. He was still keeping up his character even though our scenes together were finished.

"I, uh...have something to tell you, Andaran."

He seemed so big and I seemed so small in that moment. He cocked his head as he peered down at me. "So say it."

I hesitated, looking up into his bright, yellow eyes. I wanted to run, fly, get on a rocket ship and blast off to space, anything to be somewhere else. But I had to tell him, and I had to find out what he'd do. Gulping, I said it all in a rush. "I'm pregnant."

"What?" he gasped, narrowing his eyes. "With me?"

I nodded slowly, not heartened by his first reaction. "You're the only male I've been with..."

He took a heavy step backward, curling his neck in a defensive posture. "You did this to me on purpose, didn't you! Weren't you taking the pill?"

I blinked. "But you...you said you had a vasectomy."

"Not me, you idiot! Lyall. He got one after having two kids. We were rehearsing, Fara." His blue frills were standing on end now, brow ridges angled downward as he glared at me.

This was...not going well. "How was I supposed to know that? If we were just rehearsing, why did you go so far? I_told you_ I was in heat!"

"Why did _I_go so far? If I recall correctly, _you_were the one who pulled me into you. I just figured you wanted to nail the scene, so I went with it. God, this is like Cassini all over again," he said, lashing his tail back and forth. The dresser wasn't faring very well against the onslaught.

My eyes widened. "So you _did_knock her up!"

"She tricked me so she could blackmail me," he growled.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Could this really be happening? It felt like a nightmare. Andaran hated me, and if my career weren't already in tatters, I was _really_fucked now. "So...what now?" I asked, slowly, and this time it wasn't morning sickness that made me want to puke.

"What do you mean, 'what now'? There's no 'what now'."

"Neither of us wanted this, Andaran, but maybe it's not all bad. I mean, don't you remember all those late nights, working, laughing...making love? Surely that has to mean something?" I pleaded.

"It means we're coworkers," he said simply, "working on a scene."

"But we can be more than that, Andaran. I...really like you. I didn't mean for this to happen, but don't we owe it to each other to try to make this work? You can't really believe that you never had feelings for me," I added, remembering all the times we'd shuddered against each other with our tongues entwined.

"Fara, I'm gay."

"What? You're joking."

He shook his head. "Why do you think I wanted to practice that scene so much? I had to make it believable. Believe me, it wasn't easy."

"But you...you said you loved me. The way we kissed? You were hard for me..." I gasped, staring at the blue drake in disbelief.

"I'm an actor," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "You want to know 'what now'? I'll tell you what's going to happen. You aren't going to tell _anyone_what happened here. You try to go to the presses and the same thing that happened to Cassini will happen to you. You'll never work in this town again. Keep this quiet, and maybe you'll keep your career. You aren't that bad an actress for an ignorant ditz."

Now the tears came, and I couldn't hold them back. I meant nothing to him. I was just a set piece to him, and acting challenge that he'd taken up and conquered, and what did he care that he left me behind and broken. I'd lost someone I'd thought was a friend, I'd lost Rothchild, and I was going to be a single mother who couldn't tell her own parents_about the real father! I glanced down at my wide, swollen belly, showing Andaran's heavy clutch through my bulging scales. _What am I going to do!?

"Now get out of my dressing room," he barked.

* * * * *

Rosalina Heartrow was great in "Rothchild's Baby". She even won an Oscar. I watched it all live at home, though it was a little half-hearted as I stayed alert to prevent any of the little blue and black hatchlings from getting themselves killed. They were at that inquisitive stage where electric sockets seemed extra enticing.

I'd hoped that playing by Andaran's rules would have kept my career going, but just the opposite happened. After giving birth to twelve glistening eggs, my body was stretched and ragged. Try as I might, I couldn't seem to tighten my scales, as if my stupid body wanted me to be ready for my next huge clutch. So there was no way I was getting any nude scenes anymore.

But not even bit parts. After I dropped out of "Rothchild's" as a single parent and refused to tell anyone who the father was, I was toxic. No studio would take a risk on a black slut like me who might get knocked up in the middle of a production. I managed to snag a few commercials, but...

That was just as well. I was pretty busy with the clutch. Twelve was nearly twice the normal size, and there was a _lot_to do. Every day I collapsed in bed, exhausted, only to suffer another sleepless night as drakeling after drakeling woke me up, crying, or needing water, or being scared from a bad dream. I couldn't wait for them to get old enough for school!

I was pretty much on my own now. My own mother was so pissed off that I'd done exactly what she'd warned me not to - go to Las Vegas, have a one-night-stand and end up with a bellyful of babies with some unknown drake - that she practically disowned me. She didn't fly down to help with the clutch. Maybe she thought the three hundred dollars a month was enough motherly love.

The only thing looking up in my life was that I no longer cried myself to sleep at night. I was too busy to cry.

The only consolation from the entire ordeal: Andaran finally got his comeuppance. After Cassini's eggs finally hatched a clutch of bright, blue dragonlings, the media had taken up her story again, demanding a paternity test from the famous movie star. He still refused, but settled out of court with the green for child support. As if to preempt something similar from me, every month I got a check much bigger than three hundred dollars.

Not that the accusations really affected his career. Together, we'd fucked twelve new souls into the world. We'd_done it, but somehow it was _my_fault, and _my responsibility, and my clutch to raise. My body was ruined, my career in shambles, and I was the thoughtless slut.

But at least Andaran had to send two fat checks in the mail every month.