Kristin

As Kristin was gone for the rest of the week I was able to get back to my writing. I had a novella in progress and had been

neglecting it since meeting Kristin. Concentrating was not easy, my mind wandered frequently to visions of Kristin. Was I in

love? Time would tell, but I seemed to have all the symptoms.

Thursday morning I received a call from Lillian. “I have the name of an agent your lady love should call,” she said. “Virginia

Stanton is possibly the best woman model’s agent in the country. There are a couple of men who might be better agents but

I’ve heard rumors that they are womanizers and keep their casting couches busy. Virginia is an ex-model and, from what I’ve

been told, is very protective of her clients.”

I thanked Lillian profusely and, when Kristin called me that evening, as she did every evening, I gave her Virginia’s name and

phone number.

In our evening conversations Kristin sounded tired and, unless I judged incorrectly, she also sounded lonely. I was lonely too,

perhaps another sign that I was in love. When Kristin called Friday evening she said she had called Virginia Stanton and

made an appointment to see her the following Tuesday, in Los Angeles. “Will you go with me?” she asked.

When I replied, “If you want me to,” she sounded overjoyed. At the end of the call, as she said goodnight, Kristin said, “I love

you.” Automatically, my response was, “I love you too.”

Kristin was scheduled to come home Sunday afternoon but I got a call Saturday afternoon telling me she was able to get a

seat on a flight that evening and would be home at 9:30. “Will you come to my place to welcome me home?”

“Nothing could keep me away,” I replied.

I bought a bottle of premium wine and a dozen red roses and walked to Kristin’s at 9 o’clock. I used a key she had given me

to let myself in and set up everything to welcome her. I had two candles burning on the table, the roses arranged in a vase,

wine glasses out and ready and one of her favorite CDs playing when she walked in the door.

Any doubts about our being in love flew out the window. We rushed into each other’s arms and shared many passionate

kisses. We hadn’t been to bed yet and I was on a high beyond anything I had ever experienced.

When we finally broke our clinch I held Kristin at arms length and examined her body from head to toe, not missing one curve

along the way. I then looked in her eyes and with a tremor in my voice said, “Kristin Jansen, I love you.”

Kristin’s eyes sparkled as she replied, “Paul Hammond, I love you too, very much.”

We sat and had a glass of wine while Kristin told me about her trip to Chicago, which she said was boring and lonely. She

took time to notice the flowers and the candles, then left her seat and sat in my lap as she nuzzled my ear. “Paul Hammond,

I’m the luckiest girl in the world and I love you very much. Let’s go to bed.”

There was no hesitation, no embarrassment on her part as she led me to the bedroom and disrobed for me, then undressed

me. We were on the bed kissing each other all over within a few minutes, our kisses lingering in some areas when they

brought moans and groans. Love making again was superb, and non-stop for an hour before we fell asleep depleted.

In the morning Kristin suggested she practice her modeling technique again so I could ‘repay her for the sack time’ as she

put it. I wasn’t about to complain as I suspected she had something special in mind. And she did; she sent me to sit by the

door where I had been standing during my first attempt at coaching. When she entered the living room from the bedroom

hallway she was wearing an almost transparent peignoir which I assumed she had bought in Chicago.

She walked toward me, again using the superb models’ way of walking she had mastered. I could see the outline of her

gorgeous body through the flimsy material. When she turned to walk away from me she unfastened the front of the peignoir

and held it open as she did a slow turn in front of me so that she faced me again. Except for one tiny adornment Kristin was

naked beneath the robe and she was giving me the special treatment I had suspected was coming.

As I sat there with my eyes feasting on her loveliness it took me a moment to notice her little extra treat. She had tied a tiny

ribbon in her pubic hair as a joking reply to my comment about that same hair a few days back. I clapped my hands when I

saw the ribbon. When I did Kristin moved closer to me and very softly said, “You may have the ribbon, but you’ll have to earn

it. Reach out and pluck it from me with your lips. No hands, no teeth, lips only.”

This was something I hadn’t anticipated from Kristin. But I think she was showing me how much she had accepted me as

part of her. I tried to comply with her request and discovered she had tied the knot so snugly I had to dig my lips deeply into

her pubic hair to succeed. By that time Kristin was giggling and I was turned on completely.

Kristin then added another step to her newfound boldness. She removed the robe completely, took the ribbon from me and

placed it back in her golden triangle, then strutted back across the room.

I was still in a daze when I heard her call me from the hallway. “I need to practice some more. Are you able to continue?”

For the next half hour Kristin practiced her runway walk, nude. I made occasional comments about posture or arm or leg

positions as she made short pirouetting steps on her way across the room. Each time she stopped in front of me she posed

for several seconds. One time she clasped her hands behind her neck and arched her back slightly, raising her breasts to

emphasize their perfection. I sat there transfixed.

Later that day, Kristin brought up the subject of us living together. “The problem, as I see it right now,” she said, “is that each

of us has a house full of furnishings and personal items. How do we combine all of them into one unit?”

Among the many things she was referring to was her growing art collection, which she had collected from many of the cities

she had visited. Mostly landscapes of the area, it was quite an impressive collection. Also, I had an extensive library of

writing related books and a large computer center where I did much of my writing. All this in addition to our furniture and

appliances, which would have been duplicates if we kept all of them for one apartment.

We discussed this for some time and then decided to put it on hold until she began her modeling career.

* * *

Kristin’s Tuesday appointment with Virginia Stanton was at 1:30 in the afternoon. Her office was in the Wilshire District of

Los Angeles, close to my agent’s office in Century City. We drove there early to make sure we would find a place to park

and arrived early enough to have lunch before the appointment.

The office was in a new building in a neighborhood known for its glamour and high prices. As we waited in the waiting room

we noticed many photographs on the wall of world famous models and former models turned actress. It was a prestigious

introduction to the world of modeling. I think it gave Kristin the jitters.

Virginia was an attractive redhead in her early forties. Except for perhaps a few extra pounds she still had the figure of a

glamour model. Kristin introduced me as an interested friend who had come along for moral support. Kristin handed her an

envelope containing glamour photographs she’d had taken in recent weeks.

Although she tried to appear impartial I was certain I could read a look on her face that showed she was impressed by

Kristin’s looks and figure. Her first question was one Kristin and I had expected and we hoped Kristin was prepared for.

“Why do you want to be a model?”

Kristin answered without hesitation, “Because I have the right qualifications to be successful at it.”

I think the answer took Ms Stanton by surprise. “Well, I’ll say you are brash, anyway. Stand up so I can look at you.”

While Kristin stood erect exhibiting her best posture Virginia walked around her and examined every inch of her. As Kristin

had worn a form fitting dress with good cleavage all her assets were plainly visible.

“I’ll have to say you do have an excellent figure and a beautiful face. Good legs too, so you have all the right qualifications.

Have you been to modeling school?”

“No,” Kristin replied.

“That’s something that needs to be remedied. I’ll give you the name of a good school in Hollywood. Taking their courses will

be an asset to list on your credentials. What type of modeling did you have in mind?”

I knew Kristin was tempted to say, “I’ll do whatever is available,” but she didn’t. Smartly she replied, “I think I’m best qualified

to do lingerie and swim suits but I know I could do fashions, stockings, or jewelry.”

After several more questions mainly to do with Kristin’s education and background, Virginia had her go to another room

where an assistant measured her for her vital statistics.

An hour later we left the office with the name of the modeling school and Virginia’s admonition to keep in touch. “After you’ve

completed modeling school we’ll take some more photos and I’ll shop you around. When we locate a situation for you I’ll

draw up a contract. I think you’re going to do well.”

With this welcome news Kristin was on another high and suggested we go home and make love, all night if I wanted.

We had two hours of love making before Kristin admitted that going all night was beyond her capabilities. “Take me to

dinner and I’ll get my second wind,” she said.

That evening, before returning to our love making, we talked about decisions Kristin would have to make in the near future.

When should she start modeling school? When should she quit her present job? Did she still need counseling? We decided

to call the modeling school in the morning, see what their schedule was then make other decisions based on the answer they

gave.

We went back to bed and spent a delightful two hours in foreplay. We were both on such a rapturous high from the fondling

and petting we fell asleep before we got around to intercourse.

In the morning Kristin called the modeling school and got the information she needed, “They have a six week course starting

a week from next Monday. There are two openings, so if I’m interested I have to make a decision now. And, it’s going to

cost $1800.”

“Wow,” I replied. “A week from Monday, that’s 12 days. My inclination is to say ‘go for it.’ The sooner you complete the

course the sooner Virginia can go to work for you. Is the money going to be a problem?”

“No,” Kristin answered. “I have the money now, but I won’t have it long if I quit my job. I’d better submit my resignation

effective after next week’s gig in Seattle. Then, I’ll have enough to last for a while.”

“If you have to go selling yourself I’ll take you in and provide sustenance, and all other bodily needs.”

“You’re all heart. No, that’s not right; there’s a big part of you that’s not heart. Anyway, I’m going to do it.”

“Do what, let me provide you with sustenance?”

“I’m going to apply to the school and submit my resignation to the book distributor, right now. Come to the school with me

while I fill out their forms.”

* * *

The modeling school was on the second floor of an old office building close to Hollywood and Vine. An office and a number

of classrooms took up the entire floor. Kristin gave her name and reason for being there to the receptionist then sat at a table

in the anteroom to fill out several pages of forms.

As she did I noticed again the multitude of photos on the walls, all of them beautiful, all of them models I assumed had

graduated from the school. One or two I recognized as currently top models.

Kristin finished the forms, handed over a check and was given a syllabus to read describing the course. Before leaving the

area we checked out parking facilities close to the school and found a lot two blocks away. The attendant assured us there

were always vacant slots. Kristin could buy a long term permit and save about half the parking fee.

As we drove back home Kristin was so excited she couldn’t stop talking. She talked about how long she had wanted to

become a model and how it was finally nearing reality. She talked about the modeling school and how much she hoped to

learn from the courses. She talked about how certain she was that Virginia Stanton would be able to place her in a modeling

job right away.

When she mentioned this I said, “I hope it happens as quickly as you say but you have to think about the possibility that it

might take some time. Maybe only a few months, perhaps longer. Have you given any thought to what you will do with your

time if you don’t get placed right away?”

“I suppose that’s a possibility,” Kristin conceded. “Perhaps I can get a fill-in job to work at while the wheels are turning. I

could be a Kelly Girl; I can type and do other office work. It won’t pay as much as I’m making now but it will help tide me over.

Anyway, that’s still two months in the future. I’ll take that step when I need to.”

When we arrived at the apartment I suggested we go jogging to burn off some of the excess energy Kristin had built up.

That evening, while we were eating dinner, this time a fairly tasty meatloaf that Kristin had prepared, I said, “I’d like to go with

you to Seattle next week. Any objections?”

“I don’t have any objections but I won’t spend much time with you, nights only probably. Other than that I’m going to be very

busy. And I think my boss might object to my having a roommate.”

“I’ll get an adjacent room. I’ll need a lot of space anyway as I’ll be working on my new book. That’s one of the reasons I want

to go to Seattle. If I know I’m close to you I’ll be able to concentrate better on my writing. When you were n Chicago I couldn’t

concentrate because I thought of you all the time. That’s when I first realized I was in love.

“This week I’ve been able to concentrate more, although I admit I still have not done much writing.

“The other reason I want to go with you to Seattle is that the following week I’ll be in Hawaii. That would make two weeks in a

row without you. I know there will be times when we can’t be together but next week I think we can.”

Kristin took my hand and said, “Paul, I love you and knowing you love me and want to be with me makes me glow. Come to

Seattle, we’ll work it out. Now, tell me about the story you’re writing. Is it as good as ‘Josef’?” ‘Josef’ was my recently

published novella which Lillian Pressman was handling for me. Kristin had read a manuscript copy of it.

“Since I met you it has taken on a new life,” I replied. “It’s a story about a man and a woman who meet at a laundry in

Montana. She’s recently divorced and he’s recently widowed. Two days after they meet she is found, alive but badly beaten

and he is arrested. He’s eventually able to convince the sheriff of his innocence. She recovers, the two fall in love and the

story goes on from there."

“Will you let me read it?”

“Not until it’s finished, which will be six months or more from now. Now, Kristin Jansen, the man who is very much in love with

you would like to make love. With you.”

Each time we made love it seemed Kristin gave herself to me more and more completely. This night was so satisfying

neither of us wanted it to ever stop. We gloried in the feelings we aroused in each other, feelings that lasted and lasted as

we stayed coupled long into the night.

* * *

In the morning I called the hotel where Kristin’s company had booked a room for her and talked them into changing the

reservation to two adjoining rooms. They advised me the company reservations would still stand and to make a new

reservation I had to pay a premium as it was so close to the event.

I also called the airline Kristin had reservations with and obtained two business class seats then cancelled her reservation.

We flew to Seattle the following Tuesday and checked into the hotel. It was a first class hotel directly across from the

convention center where Kristin would be working. The two rooms were enormous, each containing a king-sized bed and a

huge bathroom with a large, square bathtub.

I had to make a smart-ass remark when I saw the tubs. “Rub a dub dub, making love in a tub.”

Kristin surprised me by adding an additional line, “Any more bad jokes and I’ll hit you with a club.”

“The bed is plenty big enough to accommodate both of us but a hot tub a deux would be fun. Do you want to take turns with

the beds or just muss up the bed we’re not using so the maid won’t have anything to gossip about?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll sleep with you anywhere,” Kristin replied.

“Who said anything about sleeping?”

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