Kristen: Odessa and Beyond

This story follows on from the ten-part series "Cruise With A Difference". You don't have to read the other series, but it makes a lot of sense to do so first. This story is set over five years after the amazing Mediterranean cruise Kristen took with her best friend, Katy. It is written as an epilogue, told by Kristen. The story begins with Kristen in hospital in Sydney.

Note: This story is entirely fictional written for readers' enjoyment, and bears no resemblance to any people living or dead.

So here I am, Kristen Harrison, celebrity Russian model approaching 35 years of age, half sitting up in my private ward bed in the Mater Hospital in Sydney in February. I have pillows under my bum.

I am nursing my newborn beautiful little baby girl, Katherine Janet, only born a few hours ago, and I am feeling this wonderful warm inner feeling as the milk flows out of me nurturing my newborn baby – not a sexual feeling, but something completely new and different for me. Katherine suckles enthusiastically on my full, now engorged 36F, left breast.

My wonderful husband now of eleven years, Carl, is sitting beside me with the Sunday papers, with a smile a mile wide and talking enthusiastically about the birth and everything about it. He is watching me feed our new baby with a look of sheer bliss and awe on his face. I can hear him talking, and I acknowledge him a few times, but really, my mind is in another world just at that time.

Katherine's birth had been long and painful, but joyous, and there had been no complications apart from a couple of stitches down there for me (hence the pillows). Katherine is perfect, a little on the small size, but for Carl and me, perfect. She weighed in at 2.6 kilograms (5 pounds and 12 ounces) and is just over 47 centimetres long (18.5 inches).

My pussy is still sore, that's for sure, after the stitches and the hard labour it had just been through in the past 24 hours. I had been in labour for 15 hours, but I really wanted a natural birth, and we did it! I was so happy!

The nurses come and check me, and bring me some breakfast. They also bring Carl a coffee. Everything is just great. In fact, everything has been just great for quite some time. Carl and I are in a great place. I come back down to earth, and we talked about our plans from here. We chose to return to Sydney to have our baby, so our family and friends (including my best friend, Katy, whom we named Katherine after) could be with us.

We still have our apartment here, at Darling Harbour, which we use as our home when we come back to Australia. But over the years since I started modelling in Russia, we have stayed here less and less. Last year, we stayed 3 months over the summer, and at this stage, we are planning to stay perhaps another 6 weeks. It will depend on my recovery. We have been here since late November.

My agency, PMM, has some bikini and lingerie shoots lined up in about two months' time, as they want to take advantage of my larger breasts post-baby. Some other gigs are also in the offering. They will want me fit and toned by then.

Carl already has a highly recommended personal trainer lined up to start with me the week after next, as long as the doctor gives me the clearance. He also only has 6 weeks' more leave before he is due back at work, although we are reasonably certain that if I am not okay to travel by then, his employers will be understanding, as he is one of their key mining engineers, and has been available for consultation by cell phone and email the whole time we have been in Sydney.

After discussing our plans again and agreeing the approach, Carl suggests that I should have a nap in the afternoon, while he visits his parents and shares the photos from the birth and after. I am feeling quite tired, and thank him for his consideration. He tells me he will be back in the early evening for dinner with me, and will bring my parents with him. He reminds me I am supposed to call Vladimir at the Agency to advise him on how well the birth went, and should do it later tonight (which is the middle of Sunday in Russia).

Most of the year now we live in St. Petersburg. It is a beautiful city, with all the stunning Russian Orthodox cathedrals, and palaces. I so love the Saviour of the Spilled Blood – I have visited that church so many times! We have a large 4 bedroom apartment overlooking the River Neva.

Carl works there now for a medium to large Russian mining company, with coal and gas interests mainly in the Urals. He travels a bit with his job, but not too much – which is great because I travel quite a bit for work. That is because, in Russia, they don't know me as Kristen Harrison.

I am Kristina Cherkasov, the celebrated, wealthy bikini and lingerie model, seen at times (and in the social pages and on the net) on the arms of rich and powerful Russian businessmen, and rumoured to be one of Dimitri Bondayenko's "girls".

As I fall asleep, my mind takes me back over the incredible sequence of events that brought us – Carl and me - to this wonderful place. Just under three years ago, we were definitely not in this space. We were struggling with my work, in particular a certain commitment that caused a lot of arguments and sad times. Carl was still based in Australia.

In fact, at one stage, we did not speak to another for over two weeks, and it was in fact the caring and loving actions of our Prague based friends, Campbell and Oksana Jackson, and my best friend, Katy, that got us to both calm down, get talking again and act like husband and wife again. It was a bumpy three or four months after that, particularly as I had to give six weeks' notice on that sub-contract.

But eventually our love and commitment for each other shone through. I was able to convince my agency to make some changes to my work contract arrangements. Carl applied for and got the job in St. Petersburg, meaning he could join me for most of the year now, and together we made the effort and did the hard yards.

Financially, we are in a great place with my million plus earnings per year especially (Carl still pulls down a good salary, too - just on $500,000 US pa). With our newborn baby, we are now a complete little family, and we are emotionally in a great place with our marriage too.

Anyway, to tell you my story, I need to go back to the start. We will get to that sub-contract that caused me so much grief, but in its turn. Oksana did warn me against it at the time, actually, but I was keen and stubborn, and didn't listen.

I thought with my pussy (as I often do), and was greedy as the money was so good, so I managed to convince Carl to let me do it. It was a big mistake, and it nearly cost me my marriage to my wonderful man. I am so glad I finally saw sense, and managed to be able to give notice. It cost me some $400,000 US in foregone income, but it was worth every penny and then some to get my man back. I now don't do those types of commitments.

The story starts with the cruise that I went on about five and a half years ago now with Katy. It was with that cruise that Carl and I commenced what you might call, our version of an open marriage.

Now, I realise open marriages are definitely not for everyone. But it works for us, and still does to this day. When we decided we wanted to try for a baby again, and I got the approval of my agencies to do so, I obviously refrained from seeing other men for the 3 months it took me to fall pregnant with Carl, unless they were prepared to use a condom. Looking at little Katherine now, yes, she is definitely Carl's.

Now what I mean by our version is that it is a somewhat imbalanced arrangement, but definitely not a cuckold one. I am a very sexual creature. I need to be fucked – a lot.

Carl is only a small guy, in every way (his dick when hard is just under 5 inches), but he is extremely talented, incredibly thoughtful, and a wonderful lover. No man eats pussy like my Carl. He is a kind and gentle lover, and as he has got older, I am very pleased to say he has got much better at lasting before he cums – particularly when he is up for seconds. We have actually worked hard at that as a couple – fun work, mind you.

But he has always known he cannot give me everything my hot body craves for. I love it romantic, like with my Carl, where it is different to anyone else (even romantic with others, which Carl has got much better with over the years, but struggled with in the early years). But I also like it hard and nasty. I am into all sorts of things, as you will see.

Yes, I am proud to call myself a "slut", but I AM Carl's "slut". Carl though does have his fun times as well. It is not one-way sexual traffic in this household. It couldn't be as you will see we have spent much time apart in the past 5 years.

Here in Sydney, he is a member of the infamous Second Hand Rose Club, a place I have occasionally worked in over the years as well with the consent of my Russian employers and I might add to his delight.

Carl has sure got his share of hot sex there over the years, especially with two wonderful wives who work there and who are his favourites, Pixie (who has a gorgeous, tight little twat just the right size for Carl's smaller cock) and Summer (a former Penthouse Pet). They are now both good friends of mine, too, not least because they have looked after my wonderful husband many times these past 5 years (especially when he was still in Australia), while I was working in Russia and Eastern Europe.

When we are in St. Petersburg (where we now live much of the year), and I am away on business, we also have an arrangement now with my other agency for him to be looked after if he is in need of some nice female company and a good root. Why shouldn't he? His wife, that's me, is out getting fucked by some rich Russian businessman or attending to my contractual arrangements as one of Dimitri's "girls" (the rumour is true).

You see I am not just a bikini and lingerie model. That is like my "day" job with PMM. In Australia, our families and most of our friends think that is what I do. Katy, though, and I am sure a few others who have seen my pictures with Russian businessmen on the net over the years, or seen me at the Second Hand Rose Club, know that I am more than that.

I am also a courtesan, a high class escort to the rich and powerful. I am very good at my job and provide the very best "real girlfriend experience" money can buy in Russia. When you fuck me, you go to heaven. There is very little I won't do (animals and scat out).

If you want it nice and romantic, I can do it like we are long-term lovers. I have a few regular clients now, as you will see, that my husband has slowly got good with. These clients are my friends, who I do have feelings for. We do "make love" as most would call it, passionately and deeply with real emotion. Carl, though, has never liked me describing it as "making love". He sees that as us, not surprisingly. So, for my man, I call it "romantic sex".

If you want it raw and nasty, hey! I love it! If you want to whip me or play BDSM games with me, that's fine too as long as there is no permanent damage or anything that requires medical attention beyond the usual household first aid kit.

Only once did someone go too far, and I ended up at a medical centre getting a few stitches in my bum where a guy got carried away with his knife play. He got banned from Dimitri's for that - not a good move for a businessman in Russia or the Ukraine. After that, Carl pleaded with me to drop knife play from my repertoire. I did, as I never liked it that much.

Without sounding arrogant, I am blessed with a beautiful little body (only 163 centimetres tall), and 35D breasts that have currently grown out to 36Fs with my pregnancy. My hair is blonde (bottle variety) and my normal measurements now pre-baby are 35D-25-35, slimming down a little from when I did the cruise.

That means I am not a catwalk model in the ordinary course of things as I am too short. As I have become better well known in Russia and Eastern Europe, however, I have done some catwalk gigs as like a special guest model. They are fun, but they do work you hard, let me tell you. Most of my modelling is for catalogues, advertisements, and websites.

As some of you may have guessed, I have also done some nude and porn modelling, softcore and hardcore - solo stuff, girl-girl, boy girl, and threesomes, but not in recent years.

You can find me if you look hard enough around the Russian and Eastern European sites. None of it though is under Kristen or Kristina – I used all sorts of trade names like Jade, Jasmine, and Pixie, and sometimes used a wig (the last name is actually in honour of that certain, cute little hostess at the Second Hand Rose Club who my husband particularly likes).

I always wear my wedding and engagement rings, though, in honour of Carl, no matter what I am doing, unless it is specifically contracted otherwise. I actually try to talk people out of it when that happens too, and usually succeed. Again, with that sub-contract which got me in so much trouble, it was one where I was required to take my rings off. As I said, it was a big mistake.

Before I get to the start of the story (I know I am taking a long time), lastly I should complete the mental picture of me for you by talking about my piercings and tattoos. Right now, of course, my tittie and cunt piercings are not in. Hopefully, I will be able to put them all back in when I get out of the hospital and my stitches dissolve.

I have little nipple rings in each of my titties. Again, obviously, I will need to take them out when I breastfeed Katherine (which I intend to do for at least 6 months). I also have three piercings in my cunt – a barbell hood in my clit, and a little ring in each of my labia. I really love my piercings, as does my husband Carl, and they really do add to our, and my, sex life.

I now have five tattoos, but only one of them is what you might call large. I have:

a little red rose with a stem which starts at the top of my cunt slit – it is 5 centimetres long;

a bluebell on the right side of my waist above my cunt, opposite to the red rose;

a tattoo of "Carl" in nice calligraphy writing with a heart beside it on my right tittie above the nipple, near my heart;

a little one which says "DB" (ƂД) in Russian Cyrillic script on my upper right bum cheek (you only get one of these when you officially become one of Dimitri's "girls"); and

the larger one is a nice, tribal design which goes down the side of my left torso and tittie.

The first one I got was the bluebird. I got that at 21. I got the rose at that cruise I already mentioned which started my adventure, and the tribal design at Dimitri's mansion in Odessa the week straight after.

The last two I got at the same time, about two and a half years ago, also at Dimitri's mansion. As I was doing my fifth week-long party there (I will explain), I qualified as one of his "girls", meaning I was supposed to get the tattoo.

Carl was there with me that week, and it was his suggestion that since he didn't want someone else "owning" his wife without him also, that I should get a tattoo especially for him at the same time. I loved the idea and asked Dimitri, who thought it was touching. So I got my DB "tramp stamp" and my Carl "heart" at the same time. It was very special – the two sides of me. Okay, my story.

It all started, as I said, with what was called the cruise with a difference. Why was it "with a difference" you might ask? That's because the cruise, which still occurs annually each year in August I understand, is a nude cruise.

It is not just any nude cruise. It is a cruise of up to 100 nude wives without their husbands – that's right, you must be female and married, but it is with a ship full of black men. These men are there for your pleasure – to fuck you as much as you like for the week that the cruise takes to go from Venezia to Hvar, Dubrovnik, Kotor and a private beach in Albania before returning to port.

The husbands aren't left out though. If you pay the additional fee, your husband can receive films of the action on the ship – I think they get five in total. I won't say much more here, as it is documented elsewhere quite accurately on a certain website. But it is because of the films that I am telling you my story.

As I said, Katy and I went together on this cruise. She had already been in the lifestyle with her husband, Chris, for a few years, and had already booked it when she thought it would be a great way for Carl and I to try out a new approach to our marriage. Katy knew about my sex drive, and the fact that Carl had realised that my body physically needed more. They were not wrong.

Our whole life, our marriage, our lifestyle, where we now live, and what we now do, changed the day I stepped onto the Adonis II. What didn't change was my love and incredibly deep respect for my man, Carl. But I also now realise had we not taken the risk as we did then, I may not be married to Carl now. I would have cheated. I know that now.

While we were on the cruise, Katy and I were asked to take part in the films being made for the husbands back home. We appeared in the first and last films. You could say they were my first porn modelling gigs. The man who was on the cruise in charge of making those films was none other than Campbell Jackson, a big, buff black guy with a huge cock, who also happened to be a porn star in Eastern Europe (and still is).

Campbell and his lovely model wife, Oksana (who also works for PMM with me now) are among Carl and my best friends in Europe. We don't see each other that often, usually through work with PMM or at Dimitri's mansion in Odessa (Oksana is also a "Dimitri girl" with his trademark "tramp stamp" on her right bum cheek, too). Back then, they were partners – they got married two years ago when Oksana fell pregnant. They now have a little boy, Trent.

As you might have guessed from my description of Campbell, I fucked him on that cruise. In fact, I fucked him lots of times on the cruise. On the second film I did, there is a very romantic beach scene with just Campbell and I that is still one of the best pieces of porn work I ever did, in my view, except at the time I didn't see it as work. It was fun – great fun.

After having his first (and not last) understandable real fight with jealousy, Carl came to love it too. We still play it sometimes as part of our own love-making sessions. On the last two nights of the cruise (with Carl's permission), I slept with Campbell. He is an amazing lover. His big black cock takes my cunt places Carl can't go, but then to be fair to my Carl, his tongue takes me places Campbell can't go, and it is Carl who is always in my heart and soul.

Was Campbell then my first fuck buddy? Some might say yes, but I would disagree. We have fucked many times over the years, often as a threesome with Oksana. It has always as deep and abiding friends with real passion and emotion for each other, and always with Carl's knowledge and permission (even if sometimes Carl was not always 100% comfortable). For the first few years, he still worried and fretted with jealousy – unnecessarily as I always told him – that he may lose me as I do have feelings for Campbell.

But now it is all cool. Carl has even been there a few times too, the most memorable being the time about 16 months ago when Campbell and I were asked to do a romantic vaginal and anal sex show in front of everyone at Dimitri's mansion – including both of our partners! Campbell and I went all out.

It was incredibly erotic. It was full of kissing each other with our tongues dancing in each other's mouths long and deep. There was tight cuddling and snuggling, and slow and sensual, wonderful, romantic love-making. We went for probably close to an hour, with Campbell coming three times (twice inside me as I came).