Daytona Beach DesireChapter 1
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Daytona Beach Desire, Book IIIChapter 2 free porn video
We left school in the middle of the day on a Thursday. Caitlin slept all night that night, all of Friday, Friday night, and most of Saturday morning, getting up only twice to go to the bathroom. At those times, she never said a word to me--I'm not sure if she even realized I was sitting in the room watching her.
"How did I get here?" she asked me, looking out at the blue sky on that Saturday morning. "Where are we? I smell ocean."
"We are at the same hotel that we stayed at last year for Spring Break." I explained how everything had come about, and how her parents had graciously offered to do all this for her, and for us. After downing a substantial breakfast, she finally decided it was time to start talking. And talking. And talking. Which was probably the best thing for her, because I just sat there and listened. It wasn't much different than the spring of an old time wind up alarm clock--when it rings, the spring unwinds and continues to do so until you shut it off. Caitlin was unwinding, and I was not about to shut off the alarm. For most of the morning, whatever she was saying was so heavily flavored with Irish words and sounds that I had no clue what she was really saying.
Shortly after noon, after hours of listening to talk that seriously needed interpretation or translation, out of the blue she said, "And I guess this is why I have come to realize that I love you more than anyone in the world."
She kissed me very passionately on the lips, returned to the bed, and slept soundly until dinner time.
That evening, we finally left the room for the first time since our arrival on Thursday. As we passed through the lobby, the concierge came over to Caitlin.
"Good even Miss McDermott. It is very good to see that you are feeling better and that you are up and around. I hope you will enjoy your visit to our hotel. Please be assured that we will use the ultimate in discretion regarding your presence here."
I led Caitlin to a nearby chair and returned to the concierge. Moving him out of earshot of Caitlin I asked, "Who in the hell knows we are here, and why do they care?"
He explained,"There are some photographers that hang around the private terminal at the airport in hopes of getting a photo of celebrities as they arrive. Several of them recognized Miss McDermott as you walked through the terminal, and they have been scouring the entire beach looking for her ever since."
"Why her?"
"Ever since she appeared in the dress, she has been the most sought after model in the world. I can not believe you are not aware of this."
"No, she never told me a thing. But thank you for your concern for her."
More things to talk about.
The hotel had an exclusive, very private, accessible with a special card only, section of the beach. It was walled off on both ends and monitored by security guards twenty four hours a day. When we had been here the year before, I had noticed the wall, but had not ventured to investigate what was on the other side. That night, I discovered five hundred feet of very private beach in pristine condition. We talked there for several hours, mostly about her and her dreams and goals.
Finally, cautiously, I brought up the modelling subject. She told me that she received at least one offer each week from photographers or magazines or agencies asking her to come to New York for a week-end of modeling. Some of them promised a career, others just offered a pot of gold. But they were relentless and the result of their calls just created more and more pressure on her.
"Would it hurt if we went to New York one weekend and you looked beautiful for a camera for a while?"
"I can't afford the time away from my studies."
"Caitlin, even if they pay you nothing, you can't afford not to take the time away from your studies. The way you are approaching your future, you won't have any. Nobody can work at the pace you have been, and stay sane. You need to take a break, to relax, and above all, to be nineteen. I was talking to your Dad on the phone while you were sleeping. He said, 'You can always get smarter, you can always get richer, but you can never get any younger.' I've thought about that and he is absolutely right.
"Caitlin, you need to stop being so old!"
We made love that night, about as passionately as two people can. In the morning, Caitlin's personality was completely different than it had been in months. She was bright, cheery and had a gorgeous smile. She wanted a repeat of the previous evening's exercise, and in the process, even managed to resort to those completely misunderstood Irish phrases again. Later that day she saw the concierge again, and ran to him and kissed him, much to his embarrassment.
With her concurrence, I reviewed the offers from the modeling agencies whose names I recognized. From the hotel room, I contacted one, introduced myself and began the discussion of what it was they were seeking, what they had to offer, and what she might be willing to do. The agent with whom I spoke (Caitlin listened on an extension but said nothing) was flabbergasted that I had called, overjoyed with the possibility that it could come to fruition, and (I could tell) almost ready to wet her pants with excitement. She agreed to send a contract for the exclusive rights to photograph Caitlin for a three day fashion opportunity. The maximum hours per day would be eight, from time of departure from the hotel to time of return, and the contract would only be for that single three day period. For those three days, Caitlin would be paid one hundred thousand dollars, and agreed to remain out of the public eye in New York, Paris or other fashion center for two weeks prior and one week after the shoot. I agreed that those terms seemed workable, subject to further review on our part. They also agreed to send a private jet to our locations to fly us to and from New York. I asked her to send the contract to my home address, marked to my attention, and then immediately called my dad and asked him to take it to Caitlin's father to have their attorney review it.
Vera
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Daytona Beach DesireChapter 3
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Daytona Beach Desire Book IIIChapter 1
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