Getting to Now Atina Oc

1.

I went to that party by pure coincidence.

I had met Mikkel, one of my students, outside the Faculty of Law building at uni. He was having a beer with some pals after passing an important exam. He thanked me for my guidance and invited me to a party at his parents' apartment on Frederiksberg that same warm evening in May.

I said that I might come, without making promises.

Having nothing better on the agenda, I found myself at 21:15 in front of a fancy building on Frederiksberg Allé.

I rang the doorbell and took the old, well-kept elevator to the top floor, the fifth.

Mikkel greeted me at the door.

"Help yourself at the bar. My parents are away and told me to serve what's in the house. Except for the expensive stuff. But that's locked up anyway."

I walked around the enormous apartment feeling very old. All the guests appeared, like Mikkel, to be in their early twenties. I as 29 but my greying beard made me look older, which is normally great in my professional life. But at this party? Not so much.

I helped myself to a glass of ice-cold prosecco at the bar. Equipped with that, I entered the spacious roof deck. And there, in a corner, three girls were chatting on comfortable garden sofas around a burning torch on a small table. A hand-rolled cigarette with the unique smell of weed was being passed around.

The centre of attention was this extremely pretty, blonde-dyed, Latina type girl who didn't exactly look like the law students I taught at uni. What first caught my attention was her tight black mini dress that had this opening at the front, revealing an apparently bottomless cleavage and exhibiting maybe 40 percent of her impressive tits, just shy of showing the areolas. She had a honey blonde mop of long, frizzy hair. Her septum and earlobes were decorated with matching rings, each with a little ball. The olive skin on her bare arms and legs was generously tattooed.

I stood by the small group for a minute, listening to the story she was telling about a naked woman Mikkel's parents had once caught in their hallway, who turned out to be his girlfriend and former schoolteacher, obviously more than 10 years older than him (more about this in the story

The New Matilde -- 11 Months Later).

The striking young woman abruptly interrupted her tale and faced me:

"You like my boob window, stranger?" she asked with her hoarse voice and shook her tits with a sarcastic smile on her full lips.

I must have been staring.

"Yes. I mean... I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"It's all right to like my boobs. You'd better. They've been very expensive."

"They are... very nice."

"Nice?

Is that all. You really enjoyed them, didn't you?"

The other girls, who looked more like typical law students, were giggling.

"I did," I admitted. "You really have a nice pair."

"And you like my dress too?"

"I do."

I took a small step away from the group.

"Don't be shy. Come and sit!" She beat the empty seat next to her in the sofa with the palm of her hand. "I'm sure you'd like to sit here and take a closer look and share this with us."

She held out the joint in her perfectly manicured hand with pink, almond-shaped fingernails.

"Come on. I don't bite," she smiled enticingly. "Unless you want me to."

I felt trapped, sat down next to her as directed, and put down my glass on the table in front of me. I noticed a pair of glittering pink shoes with 12-centimetre heels in front of her. She kept holding the joint in my direction. I took it. All three girls were watching, expecting me to smoke.

I put the joint between my lips, taking in a tiny bit of smoke, which immediately led to a bad coughing fit, during which I managed to return the joint.

"You're not much of a smoker, are you?" the blonde commented.

"No, I'm not," I admitted.

She took another deep hit from the joint herself and passed it on to the girl sitting opposite to her.

"Don't worry. You can learn it, stranger," she said and blew out a thick cloud of smoke. "I myself was almost 18 before I started smoking. Cigarettes, I mean. Until then I was totally anti-smoking. And I obviously didn't know the first thing about smoking weed."

"So, what made you start smoking at almost 18?" I asked and dried away the tears that the severe coughing fit had produced.

"My boyfriend, that's Mikkel, our host, wanted me to."

"Mikkel is your boyfriend?" I asked and may have sounded surprised.

"He was. Anyway, he's

really

into pretty women who smoke. Like his ex-girlfriend, his former schoolteacher, the woman I was just talking about. She showed me how I could turn him on and make his dick stand simply by smoking a cigarette."

(More about this in the story

Matilde in the World of Media & Art).

"That's interesting," I remarked.

"Yes. Isn't it? And ever since I have enjoyed about a pack and a half of these a day." She pointed to her Camel Blue cigarettes on the table. "And a lot of high quality weed of course. I'm Katinka by the way."

"Svend," I said and took the well-manicured hand she extended toward me.

I shook hands with Line and Anna, the two giggling law students on the other side of the table. They turned out to be in my class at uni and I vaguely recognised them.

Katinka continued her long story about the naked schoolteacher who had this unexpected introduction to Mikkel's parents, whose luxurious apartment we were partying in.

"And how do you know Mikkel?" Katinka asked as the story was over.

"I know him from university. He's my student. Like... Line and Anna here."

"You're his law professor?"

"I'm not exactly a professor. I teach part-time and work at a law firm. Mikkel used to be your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, as I said. Back in high school. You seem surprised? Where's that joint?"

She looked at Anna who was just putting out the tiny remains of the joint in the ashtray. Katinka shrugged, picked a Camel from her pack, and lit it before she continued.

"You seem surprised. It's like you don't think Mikkel could have that kind of girlfriend."

"What kind is that?"

"The kind who has this dark Arab look but instead of wearing a hijab she shows off her fake tits in public, is tattooed all over, and gets stoned at parties."

"Are you some kind of Arab?"

"No. I'm from Copenhagen."

"Obviously. But do you have... family roots in the Middle East."

"No. But that's what people assume when they see me. I'm half Brazilian."

"That explains the absence of a hijab."

"Yeah, doesn't it?"

"Yes. And I really don't know Mikkel that well, but I guess he's open to adventure now that I've learned that he had sex with his former teacher."

"Yeah. He sure is. As his teacher you should watch out, Professor," Katinka smiled and took a deep drag from her cigarette.

"I will."

"I mean... he not only had sex with her. He moved in with her for a while and got her pregnant."

She waved her smoke away from me with her hand.

"I guess I shouldn't worry about the pregnancy part if I ever get to have sex with Mikkel."

"Right. But I can really recommend the sex part. He's so sweet."

"I'll make a note of that. And he has a child with his former teacher?"

"No. They broke it off. The pregnancy and the relationship."

"Oh."

There was a pause in the conversation, during which I was watching Katinka's pretty face closely.

"I just found out how I know Line and Anna. I just need to find out where I've seen you before."

"You have?" she smiled mysteriously.

"You're not one of the law students, are you?"

"Not exactly. I'm more of a... businesswoman."

"But I really think I know your face from somewhere."

"So, you've actually noticed my face? Does that mean you're done staring at my boobs and legs?"

"I may get back to your boobs and legs. But your face does seem familiar. What kind of business are you in?"

"I work in show business. I'm an actress," she said and inhaled from her cigarette.

"Really. So I might have seen you in the cinema or on television?"

"More likely on the internet."

"Are you in something on Netflix?"

"No. Not Netflix," Katinka answered and slowly shook her head while exhaling smoke.

Line and Anna were giggling across the table.

"So, help me here. Won't you give me a hint."

"Gladly, Professor. I'm in the most popular part of the internet. So I'm not surprised that you recognise my face. And maybe other parts of my body."

"Okay."

"On the other hand, I'm talking about websites that you probably don't like to admit that you're visiting. I mean you being a professor and all."

"I'm not a professor."

"Whatever, Professor. But I like your honesty. Normally, men I meet at parties won't admit to knowing my face. Not unless they're seriously drunk."

"They won't?"

"No. And that's probably because I'm a sex worker."

"You're a... prostitute?"

"No. Not exactly. I work in porn. You've probably seen my face, ass and tits on Pornhub or somewhere like that."

There was a brief silence between us that was only broken by the noise from the party in the apartment and the giggles from Line and Anna. I decided to come clean:

"I must have seen you on Pornhub. I... admire your... work."

"Thank you. If you're satisfied, I hope you appreciate it by subscribing to my OnlyFans account."

"Actually, I have never paid for it. I mean I'm not a regular user."

"So you don't think I deserve to get paid for my 'admirable' work, Professor?"

"Well, I..."

Katinka looked at Line and Anna.

"Isn't this just typical? Your professor here probably makes at least the double of a nurse or a schoolteacher. And he doesn't want to pay the struggling adult entertainer, he uses when he jerks off."

My two students nodded in agreement, having gained new, interesting knowledge about their teacher.

There was an awkward silence, during which Katinka butted out her cigarette in the ashtray. She put her feet with their pink toenails into her stilettos and got up from the sofa.

"I'm going to get us another bottle of wine. And then I'll get back to you, Professor. Don't go away."

Line and Anna got up too.

"We'll go inside," Anna said.

"But you stay put!" Katinka pointed a long, pink nail in my direction. "You don't get to leave before you have signed up for a subscription to my OnlyFans."

I noticed a huge tattoo of a tiger with bared teeth at the top of Katinka's back as she walked elegantly away like she'd been born with those stilettos on her feet.

For a moment I considered an escape but realised that I would probably run right into Katinka if I tried. So I waited, caught in a trap.

Within a couple of minutes, she was back with an ice-cold bottle of Chablis and a corkscrew.

"You open it!" she commanded and handed me the wine and the tool. She sat down next to me, kicked off her shoes and lit another cigarette. I opened the wine and poured into our glasses.

"Give me your phone!" Katinka demanded.

"Why?"

"Like I said, you're about to become a subscriber to my OnlyFans."

"I am?"

"Yes. Give me your phone and open it up."

I did, as told and a few minutes later I had bought my first ever porn subscription.

"Welcome as a paying customer!" Katinka said and handed my phone back to me.

"Thank you! And

skål!"

We both raised our glasses and drank.

"I signed you up for a full year. It's much cheaper that way," Katinka explained.

"How considerate of you."

"That's how I am."

We were alone on the terrace and sat in silence for a moment. I watched as Katinka inhaled from her cigarette while the flame from the torch lit up her face.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you look incredibly beautiful when you smoke a cigarette?" I asked.

"Yes. Often. And you seem to have the smoking fetish. Just like sweet Mikkel. Try and search the internet for 'Katinka Kock smoking'. That's 'K-O-C-K'."

"Katinka Kock? Is that you? It's a very... suggestive name."

"It's my name on the internet. I found it very appropriate in the context."

"It is."

"But of course, it's not my real name. I just use it in the industry. It's my stage name. Or porn name if you will. But try and type it in. I'm sure you'll find something you like. And even more on my OnlyFans site that you're now subscribing to because you agree with me that people deserve to be paid for their honest work."

"I will. How old are you by the way? About the same age as Mikkel, right?"

"Never ask a woman her age, Professor! On Pornhub you'll find that according to the industry I'm still a so-called 'teen'. But then again, there's not a whole lot of truth in that industry. Just look at these."

Katinka lifted up her boobs with both hands.

"In real life, I'm 23," she added.

"I really like your rings, Katinka," I said, commenting on the three matching rings through her earlobes and septum.

"I'm glad you do. I have seven of them."

Katinka winked at me as she pulled at the edges of her boob window and exposed similar rings through her nipples.

"You like them too?"

"Yes. Very much. Where's number six and seven?"

"Number six is in my belly button."

Katinka put the cigarette between her lips and used both hands to show me the contour of the ring through the cloth of her dress.

"And for number seven... You'll have to see it for yourself on my OnlyFans. I'm not showing it here."

"I understand."

"And before you go on complimenting me for my assets, I'd like you to know that you have zero chances to take me to bed, Professor."

"That's good to know. I like your rings anyway."

"I'm sure you do. But you'll have to enjoy them online. I simply can't fuck you now that you've become a paying customer. I never mix business with my private life. It's a matter of principle."

"I see."

Katinka butted out her cigarette in the ashtray and blew out the last smoke.

"And now, if you'll excuse me. I think I'll go inside and talk to some of the other distinguished law professionals here at the party."

"Of course. It was nice meeting you, Katinka!"

"You too, Professor! Take care!"

Katinka tossed her cigarettes and lighter into her handbag, put on her shoes, got up and grabbed the wine bottle and her glass. Together we walked towards the door to the large living room. In her stilettos she was almost my height.

At the door she paused to give me a peck on the cheek.

"Oops! You may want to wipe off that lipstick," she chuckled.

"I think I'll preserve it. I've never been kissed by a porn star before."

"Suit yourself, Professor! And enjoy your subscription!"

She flirtatiously waved her hand at me and disappeared inside. I stayed on the deck for a minute or two, enjoying the remaining scent of Katinka's smoke and perfume and watching the darkening sky over Copenhagen.

Then I walked quickly through the large apartment without bumping into neither Mikkel nor Katinka. In the large mirror in the hallway, where Mikkel's parents had surprised the naked schoolteacher, I noticed that Katinka's lipstick had left a distinct pink mark on my cheek. I let it stay that way and left.

At home I switched on my laptop and watched dozens of Katinka Kock videos. There were old scenes with almost no tattoos and natural boobs. And recent ones with her big, fake boobs and a growing number of colourful of tattoos of all kinds of flowers and animals. All of it was breathtakingly sexy.

2.

Around two weeks later I was walking down Nørregade at the old German church in central Copenhagen when I heard the unmistakable sound of a classic VW Beetle engine slowing down next to me.

"Good afternoon, Professor!" the driver, an olive skinned blonde with her unruly hair tied down in a ponytail, greeted me as she flipped off ash from her cigarette on the pavement.

It took me a couple of seconds to recognise Katinka despite the many hours I had spent watching her online for the past couple of weeks. Her nose ring was gone, she was wearing almost no makeup, and was dressed in a baggy, grey hoodie and black jeans. I realised that it had not been the makeup and styling that constituted her beauty.

"Oh! Hi, Katinka!" I finally managed. "I like your car!"

She was driving a pink metallic 1970s VW Cabriolet with the steering wheel in the right-hand side.

"Yeah. It's nice, isn't it. Wanna go for a ride?"

"Yes. I have time," I lied.

I did have an appointment, which I quickly decided to cancel by text message.

"Get in, Professor!"

I walked around the back of the car, noticing the name 'KATINKA' on the license plate. As I sat down next to her, she leant forward and pecked me on the cheek.

"You wiped it away after all," she smiled. "I'm sorry I'm not wearing enough lipstick now to leave a mark. Look, I'm really sorry that I embarrassed you in front of your students. That wasn't necessary. Normally I'm not obnoxious like that. Really!"

Katinka put the car into gear.

"That's okay. You had a point. Everybody has a right to be paid for their work."

She gently lifted her left foot from the clutch while pressing down the accelerator with her right. She was driving barefoot. The car started rolling.

"I'm glad you see it that way. Are you enjoying your subscription?"

"I am."

"Great. I love satisfied customers."

"I almost didn't recognise you."

"I know. My looks. You know, I don't need to flaunt my profession to the public all the time. It can be a little annoying to be recognised on the street by one's male audience. I mean... most of the comments are well meant but some are outright creepy. I don't really need strange men to constantly tell me how they'd like to enter all my body openings or ask for autographs on their beer bellies."

"I understand. But this car isn't exactly discreet."

"I know. But it's the one I've got, and I love it. And I've managed to keep it out of my movies. A couple of producers suggested that I use it for porn scenes, which would have been spectacular, if not exactly comfortable. But if I did, horny men would queue wherever I parked."

"That makes sense. Where did you buy it? It's got the wheel in the wrong side. That's rare."

"Yeah. Got it from a guy in the industry. He's from Manchester. He didn't have the cash, so he offered me the car as payment for a week's shoot and managed to get it shipped here before Brexit. I picked it up at the container terminal at the North Harbour and paid to get Danish plates on it, which was expensive but definitely worth it."

"So where are we going in your cute little car?"

"Up north. I know a quiet place with a nice view where they serve a fine cup of coffee."

Twentyfive minutes later she parked her vintage VW at a café on the Øresund coast with a view of the water and the Swedish coastline in the distance. I got out of the car while Katinka was collecting her stuff and opened the right-hand door for her.

"Thank you, Professor!" she said and threw a pair of faded, pink flip-flops on the asphalt next to the car. She picked up the flat sandals with her toes that still had remains of chipped lacquer on the nails. Without her stilettos she was much lower than I.

"I need to sit outside where I can smoke," she said with determination as she passed right through the café to the terrace.

We found a nice table facing the Sound. Katinka wanted green tea and I ordered a large latte. When I came back from the bar, Katinka was alternating uncomfortably between various positions on her chair.

"Something wrong with your chair?" I asked.

"It's probably fine... It's just... I'm flying out to Ibiza tomorrow morning for at shoot with this Mozambican guy who will put his 30-centimetre dick into any hole he can find in me, including my ass."

"I believe 30 centimetres is the length and not the diameter?"

"Ha-ha, very funny. Anyway, that's why I'm having tea. I'm on a diet because I don't want things to get messy on the sheets. That would be so unprofessional. And you're right about the diameter but I still need to wear this giant butt plug that makes it very uncomfortable to sit on hard chairs like these. In my car I have this nice pillow that solves the problem."