tagCelebrities & Fan FictionEncounters with John Wayne Ch. 20

Encounters with John Wayne Ch. 20


John Wayne and Diana Maitland were lying on the couch in the main room of his friend's beach house watching the flames dancing in the huge stone fireplace, soft music emanating from the radio and they were sipping on whiskey while he smoked a cigarette. He was back in his boxer shorts and she was back in her underwear and his dress shirt. It almost felt like they were a happily married couple just spending a quiet evening at home, alone together...at least that was what they both wished.

She'd spotted the bottle of whiskey and the tumbler still on the coffee table in front of the love seat before they sat down, and she had gotten another glass at the bar and brought it to the coffee table and poured them both a couple fingers. She'd taken the glasses to him at the couch, then gone back and picked up his cigarettes and lighter, then joined him. He'd leaned back into the corner of the couch, facing the fireplace, with his right leg lying along the back cushions and his left leg hanging off the front with his foot on the floor. She'd sat between his legs and leaned back on his chest with her legs reclined on the couch in front of her.

He offered her a drag of his cigarette, so she took a long one and handed it back to him as she inhaled it, and then exhaled the smoke slowly from her lungs while she contemplated what they could talk about. Then she remembered what he'd said about himself as an actor, so she asked him softly, "Why do you think you aren't a very good actor?"

He gave a short laugh and said, "Oh, come on, you've seen my movies. I'm only suited to play 2 or 3 types of characters and there's not a whole lot of range with them. I'm either a cowboy or in the military or some other type of tough guy and there's not too many different ways you can play those types of characters."

She asked him, "Have you ever looked at any other different types of roles? How would you know what other types of characters you could play unless you try? Granted you may find there are certain roles that just don't suit you, but how will you know until you try?"

He thought about that for a moment, then replied, "You may be right, but what happens if I make the mistake of playing a character that I am just not suited for and end up making an ass of myself? I don't know if my ego could stand the ridicule."

She leaned her head back and glanced up at him with her eyebrows raised, then looked forward again and said, "You're a big, tough man...I think you could handle a little ridicule. Besides, don't you think there have been plenty of other big stars who have taken on roles that just weren't suited for them? You definitely would not be the first actor to do that, so I don't think there would be as much ridicule as you think. You're John Wayne, one of the most popular, if not THE most popular, leading male star in Hollywood right now...who would have the gall to ridicule you?"

"The critics," he growled; then he took a last drag on his cigarette and put it out in an ashtray he had set on the floor beside the couch.

"Who cares about the critics?" she exclaimed. "I sure as hell don't pay attention to what they have to say about any movies! They think all movies are supposed to be 'works of art' that make you 'think' and that they should 'say something about the human condition.' What the hell?!! I go to the movies because I want to be entertained and enjoy a good story, to escape for a while and NOT think about the 'human condition!' I want action, adventure, humor, romance and passion; and if it adds to the storyline, I like a movie that can move me and make me cry because the actor's portrayal was so good! I've cried over you in a few of your movies, have I told you that?"

He quietly said no as he lit another cigarette. She went on, "I couldn't stand it that you died at the end of 'Reap the Wild Wind.' I sat in my seat for 5 minutes at the end of that movie sobbing because I felt you'd been wronged you and certainly didn't deserve to die even if you were a man of questionable honor. I never liked you dying in any of your movies, so 'The Fighting Seabees' and 'Sands of Iwo Jima' were difficult for me, too. And 'Wake of the Red Witch' was just so sad. I didn't like your character in that movie at first—you just seemed like such a bad man until the background story about Angelique came out, then I understood and cried because I wished I were Angelique.

I loved you as Nathan Brittles in 'She Wore A Yellow Ribbon;' I cried when you would sit at your dead wife and child's graves and talk to her; you looked so lonely and you made it obvious that you had loved her and missed her very much..." Tears were coming to her eyes and her voice cracked as she recalled the expressions on his face in those scenes. Then she continued, "And your portrayal of that tortured soul Thomas Dunson in 'Red River' had me crying several times during that movie." She swallowed a sip of whiskey to get rid of the lump in her throat, then leaned her head back to look up at him as she said quietly, "You're a very good actor, you could play characters with a lot more depth if you wanted to."

He looked at her face and could see she was sincere. He smiled softly and said, "Thanks for your encouragement."

Then she smiled and said with an upbeat tone to her voice, "But do you know what's best about your acting?" When he raised his eyebrows questioningly, she continued, "Your comedy! You're very funny! And I learned in my drama class in high school that comedy is harder to pull off than drama—and you're very good at it. You have a great sense of timing and you can deliver a line that really isn't funny and make it sound hilarious! Or take something totally unfunny, like fight scenes, and make them funny!

And some of your romantic portrayals, like Sean Thornton in 'The Quiet Man' and Capt. Ralls in 'Wake of the Red Witch,' have really made me envy those actresses—you must have great chemistry with Maureen O'Hara and Gail Russell—I think I hate them! And, by the way, don't think I didn't catch that scene in 'The Quiet Man' when you grabbed Maureen's breasts!" She looked up at him with a sarcastic look on her face when she heard him chuckle, then she continued. "You are every bit as sexy, if not sexier, than some of the other leading men who most people think are better looking than you! So, you see, you really do have great range as an actor!" she finished as she looked back up at him.

He had said a quick "Hey!" when she said there were other leading men who were considered better looking than him, and then he smiled and chuckled when she paused and looked up at him before she finished her statements. Then he sighed and said with a slight laugh and a wrinkle of his forehead, "You have no reason to be jealous of Maureen and Gail. They're great actresses and yes, we have good on-screen chemistry, but that's as far as it goes—we're just friends. And by the way, Maureen slapped the hell out of me as soon as that scene was over, even though it was an accident!"

He stopped when she laughed a short Ha! like she didn't believe him...he knew she was smart! Then he continued, "And I think that you're just a little bit prejudiced now because of...this...you and me..." He frowned as he trailed off, not quite knowing how to phrase what was happening between them. He gulped down the last of his whiskey and set the glass on the floor next to the ashtray.

She turned her head forward again and said quietly, "Meaning you don't trust my judgment because I'm in love with you." Then she continued, her voice getting more passionate trying to make him believe her. "OK, maybe I am a little prejudiced, but I'm not the only one who's bought all those tickets to your movies that has made you one of most popular box office stars. You have thousands of fans who aren't in love with you and who think the same way I do! You are just so great to watch on that big screen—you have such an expressive face! I love watching you up there..." her voice ending in a whisper as her emotions tightened her throat.

She sat up with her back to him and gulped down the last of her whiskey to calm down. She'd never realized until this moment that she did love watching him act, and felt he could truly be great at some characters with more depth. The only thing she was afraid of now was how she was going to react watching his future romantic scenes, now that she knew he loved her and wanted to be with her. Would she feel jealous, or would she still just wish that it were she in his arms, kissing him?

He hated to admit he had somewhat of an ego and liked knowing that he had fans that would respect him no matter how good or bad he was in a movie. Regardless of how she felt about him as a man, it was obvious she respected him as an actor. He put his hands on her shoulders and said quietly, "Diana, turn around and look at me." When she did, he took her glass out of her hand and set it beside his on the floor, then put his right hand over her left one on her thigh, grasping it firmly. He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily, then said, "I believe you respect my talent and I truly appreciate your faith in my ability to do more. No matter what happens between us, will you always be my biggest fan?" he asked quietly and sincerely.

She closed her eyes, as she was afraid to answer that; she didn't think he'd like her honest answer, but she was going to give it to him anyway. She took a deep breath, then opened her eyes and frowned and said, "I don't know. If I end up staying with you, I don't think I could stay your biggest fan. I don't think I could remain objective about your talent—especially when it comes to the romantic scenes. I'm not sure how I'm going to handle them now, even if we don't end up together." She started to cry, then managed to choke out the question that was really haunting her; "If I don't stay with you, will you still love me?"

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to him, crushing her against his chest and wrapping his arms around her, with his right hand on the back of her head, as he said huskily, "Yes, Diana...I will love you forever...no matter what happens," he whispered the last part through his tight throat with tears in his eyes.

The emotion in his voice touched a chord in her heart and soul and she needed him to make love to her to seal that promise. She pulled back from him just far enough to lift her head and reach her hands up to the back of his head and neck and pull him down to crush her lips to his for a few seconds, then backed away just far enough to whisper, "Make love to me," as she stared into his eyes with tears dripping at the outer corners of her eyes.

He kissed her tenderly as he wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and moved his left arm down under her legs to lift her up slightly and move them down onto the blanket that was still lying on the floor in front of the couch. He continued to kiss her gently and passionately for a few moments, then brought his right hand from around her back to the buttons on the front of his shirt that she was wearing and unbuttoned it, pushing it aside to caress her breasts gently.

He moved his mouth to kiss her neck and chest as he continued to caress her breasts. She kept her arms around his waist, caressing his back and sides firmly, occasionally scratching him softly with her fingernails; he groaned when she did that because it felt really good.

They took their time to just kiss and caress each other thoroughly until they could feel the passion flowing between them, and they knew they were ready to seal their promise to love each other forever—no matter whether they ended up together or not. He sat up and slowly removed her underpants and laid them aside, then he rose on his knees and moved between her feet as she spread her legs, then pushed his shorts off his hips and down his thighs and crawled out of them as he moved up between her legs.

As he moved up over her, he settled himself on his forearms so he could stroke her face and hair with his hands while he kissed her tenderly for several moments as they stared into each other's eyes. She had stopped crying, but there were dark streaks where her mascara and eyeliner had run down the sides of her face, so he used his thumbs to wipe most of it away; even so, she still looked so beautiful in the soft firelight.

He moved his hips to place the head of his thick, steely shaft at her entrance while she bent her legs to move her hips to the right angle so he could enter her without any assistance from their hands. He wanted to keep his hands at her face and in her hair, and she wanted to keep stroking his back and sides. They stared at each other as he entered her slowly, and he said deeply, "I will love you forever, Diana Maitland...no matter what happens."

Tears came into her eyes again, and when he paused once he was fully inside her, she whispered through the tightness in her throat as the tears started to trickle out of the corners of her eyes, "I have and I will always love you, John Wayne...forever." Tears continued to trickle from the corners of her eyes occasionally and he would wipe them away with his thumbs as they rolled down her temples, as he made love to her slowly and tenderly.

He continued to kiss her and fuck her gently through her tears, until he saw the expression in her eyes change from intense longing to passion and desire, and he started to thrust into her harder and deeper as his desire increased to match hers. When she closed her eyes and started to moan intensely and move her hips into his, he knew she was about to cum, so he moved his arms up under her back and shoulders to crush her body to his as he crushed his mouth to hers. He forced her mouth open to thrust his tongue into her, the same way he was thrusting his cock into her, and then groaned deeply as he came inside her. She was moaning into his mouth as her pussy throbbed on his shaft from her orgasm.

He slowly ended the kiss as their orgasms subsided, then lifted his head to look down at her with his eyes misted, and said huskily, "I've never had a woman cry while I made love to her—I hope those were tears of sweetness and not sadness."

The tears came back to her eyes again, when she saw his, then she replied softly, "I couldn't help it—I've never known that fucking could be so tender, that it could make the emotions between us feel so tangible through this physical act. You are so good at making love—you really know how to translate your emotions through your body; I never knew a man could use his cock in such a way as to make it feel like he's saying 'I love you' with every stroke inside my body. Even if you didn't touch me or I couldn't see it on your face, I could tell it from the way you stroked me with your cock...it's just so...beautiful!" as she started to cry again.

He held her to him until she stopped crying, as he breathed slowly and deeply and blinked the tears out of his eyes. He felt her try to take a deep breath, but since he was still lying on top of her, she had difficulty, so he moved his arms from under her and lifted up so she could inhale deeply and then she exhaled raggedly. He slowly backed away from her, both of their faces showing their regret at having to separate bodily once again.

She looked at him and smiled softly as she wiped her tears away with the backs of her hands. Then she saw a streak of black on her hand and remembered that she had makeup on and now her tears were washing the mascara and the eyeliner away; she probably looked like a raccoon! He was looking at her, smiling just as softly, as she exclaimed, "Oh, good God! I must look lovely...I'll be right back!" as she got up and headed to the half bath to wash her face and clean between her legs.

He got up and grabbed one of the hand towels they had used earlier to wipe off his crotch, then put his boxers back on and sat on the couch again. He kept smiling softly to himself as he thought about what she had said about how good he was at making love and making her feel his love by the way he moved his cock inside her. No woman had ever told him that before; his wives had told him that he was good at making love, but they never commented that it was the way he moved inside them that made them feel his love. He was just glad that she felt that way.

When she returned from the bathroom, she had his shirt buttoned by only a couple buttons in the middle, and she picked up her panties off the blanket and put them back on, then went to sit next to him on the couch. Her face was scrubbed clean of all the makeup and she felt "normal" again; she knew makeup made her look very pretty, but she just hated to bother with it. And knowing that he had been attracted to her at the beginning without the enhancement of makeup had boosted her confidence enough to try to convince him just to have sex with her. It still astounded her that now he's sworn he would love her forever, no matter what happens! All she'd wanted and hoped for from him was a few good fucks, a "thanks, that was great, you're a lovely, young woman and I'll remember you fondly," and the best memories she could ever have had. She was looking at him as these thoughts floated through her mind.

When she came out of the bathroom, he saw she had completely washed her face and she looked normal again. He was somewhat relieved; she was beautiful enough without the makeup. All that enhancement had done was just fuel his lust for her; and he wanted more to love her than just lust for her. She put her panties on before she came and sat beside him, looking up at him, and he could see a look of amazed confusion on her face and he wondered what she was thinking, so he asked her softly, "Penny for your thoughts?"

She sighed and then said, "I'm just still amazed at how things have turned out between us. I did tell you what my original hopes and expectations were, didn't I?" He said not exactly, so she snorted a laugh and said, "First, I had just hoped I would be able to tell if you found me attractive at all. Then, I hoped you would consider having sex with me if I offered it—I was even prepared to beg for it. I was a little worried whether the sex would be good or not—I knew it would be good for me, but I just hoped it would be good for you. If it was, then I'd hoped we'd fuck a few times and that you'd tell me it was great and that you would remember me fondly—and I would've gone away with the best memories of my life! Do you see why I'm so astounded and scared at where we are now?"

He looked at her with the same expression, then stood up to face her as she stayed on the couch, and then paced back and forth in front of her as he gestured agitatedly and exclaimed quickly, "You're astounded?!! What about me? Here, I'd thought I'd already found the next woman I was going to marry until you showed up and threw my whole world out of focus so that there's nothing and no one but you!"

That last statement almost went right over her head. She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly as she recalled his exact words, then she slowly stood up to face him, and asked quietly, "What did you just say? Did you say you thought you'd already found the next woman you were going to marry UNTIL I SHOWED UP...?"

He frowned and winced as he realized what he'd said. Oh hell—he'd almost completely forgotten about Pilar until he'd outright told Diana that she had to marry him; and now he'd just slipped and told Diana that there was another woman in his life. This was not good; how the hell was he going to handle this so that she wouldn't just walk out on him right now? Diana looked to be in shock; then she just looked at him with a frown and said, "Who is she?"

He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her to sit back down on the couch; she didn't flinch away from him, so he hoped that was a good sign. He sat down beside her, sideways on the couch facing her, and held onto her left hand with his right hand as he began his explanation. "Last year, after my second wife and I separated, I took a trip to Peru to scout some locations for a movie and I met a lovely, young Peruvian woman who reminded me of all the good qualities of my first wife. She's about the same age as you, and I fell for her the same way I did for Josie and Chata. But I've already told you that the way I loved them in no way compares to how I feel for you...please believe me! You are the other half of my soul. I told you I needed you to rescue me from my usual pattern of falling for and marrying strong-willed Hispanic women who are completely wrong for me!"

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