LLP-108 The Underground Model by Jean Sifton ... - OpenDrive

The refreshing change from her own dull life into Jennifer's world had been just the tonic she had been
looking for. Everything had been exciting and stimulating, exactly as she had imagined it would be. The
intellectual discussions on every subject under the sun-ranging from psychology to sex and art which
went on until dawn with the all-pervading air of freedom, to say or do whatever you wanted to without
criticism or admonishments.
All of this was such a contrast to her life back home on the San Francisco peninsula, where everything
seemed mild and boring by comparison. And her parents, though she realized they loved her deeply,
always maintained strict limitations on her life and could not seem to understand that, for her own
happiness, she would have to make her own way without their help.
All through high school, she had dreamed of her day of freedom, never considering going to college for
she found textbooks uninteresting and dry. Of course, the football games and proms were a lot of fun,
but still the years dragged by in unendurable slowness. After a lot of coaxing, her parents finally allowed
her to attend modeling school where she had learned the basic application of makeup and posing, which
was so critical for a successful modeling career. When she had completed the course, last fall, she took
her savings and went straight to Los Angeles, where the cost of living was a lot lower, the salaries higher,
and most important of all, her opportunities for a modeling career, much greater.
Patricia walked over to the dressing mirror attached to the back of the closet door, and pensively
studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. She slowly removed the silk polka-dotted robe and
critically let her eyes travel up and down her figure, running her hands over her luscious curves and
studying the picture of herself as searchingly and objectively as she could.
Her long golden hair fell loosely around the nape of her neck and curled softly at the top of her shoulder
blades. The summer of sunning and swimming had naturally lightened her tresses and accentuated the
softly tanned skin on her face and body. Large hazel eyes, speckled with green, looked out sullenly
through a dark thick fringe of lashes and her full mouth slightly puckered in a perpetual pout that gave her
the little-girl-lost look that she despised. No matter how expertly she applied her makeup, she could
never seem to achieve that certain degree of sophistication that seemed so essential for successful
modeling.
Although the graceful animal lustiness of her appearance had so far not been able to land her a job in the
modeling field, it had certainly been no hindrance in attracting males, even to the point of having to fight
them off. She had met and dated many different boys, but had never let herself get involved enough to
give up her virginity ... at least not until last summer when she had met Mark Saunders.
The memory of those wonderful days, even now stimulated the blood in her veins and sent it rushing
through her body, awakening the hidden urges of her sex drive. Her hands came up to her breasts and,
only half aware of what she was doing, the girl began to stroke them methodically, rubbing her fingers
gently, persuasively over the firm globes, bringing the delicate brown buds to a pulsating point as she let
her mind drift back to the delicious memory of her first seduction.
* * *
The hot August sun burned down through the thin material of her organdy dress, as she steered the MG
convertible down the winding coastal highway that led from San Francisco and ended in Santa Barbara.
She had purposely started out early, wanting to enjoy the scenic, breathtaking view from where the bent
Cypress trees leaned toward the cool Pacific Ocean over jagged cliffs of rock and sand. Each curve she
rounded offered a new panoramic scene of splendor, truly unequaled in beauty, and temporarily
sombering her adventurous mood with a new feeling of peace and calm.