Matilde in the World of Media & Art

"They'll make a sweet couple," I comment, caressing Frederik's bare thigh with my left and taking the cigarette to my lips with my right.

"Yeah. Where do we go now?"

"I have this nice apartment in Jægersborggade that I'd like to show you."

"I'd like that," Frederik says and makes a right turn down Østre Alle.

He glances at me:

"Buckle up! We're moving."

"I know. I don't want to buckle up."

"Why? It's unsafe. Illegal even."

"Because I've always wanted to sit naked in a red Mercedes Cabriolet and feel the warm wind on my boobs."

"Oh!" Frederiks says as I move my cigarette from hand to hand, maneuvering to get out of my extra large sweatshirt which I throw on the back seat.

"This is getting increasingly unsafe and illegal," Frederik warns.

"Don't worry. I'll get down so people can't see me," I say and bend over his crotch where a bump is immediately forming inside his shorts. I unzip them and find my way to his dick which is by now completely erect. I inhale smoke from my cigarette and blow it out around his large penis as I take it into my mouth.

"This is unsafe... ahhhh!" Frederik moans.

I take it of my mouth to enjoy another deep drag from my cigarette:

"I can see this is an automatic so you wont need to shift gears. Just go slowly. I'd like to give you an oral quickie. I've never done it in a car like this," I explain while exhaling.

"I'm going to find a place to stop. I can do that right after the stadium."

I take Frederik's dick back into my mouth. I sense that he turns the wheel and manages to stop the car at a relatively dark spot just as he comes into my mouth and onto my face.

"Ahhhh!"

"Not so loud!" I whisper from his lap through my sperm-soaked lips.

I take another drag from my cigarette and hold it out for him to take.

He puts it between his lips, then flips it away in disgust and spits to his left.

"Urgh! There's sperm on it!" he cries out.

"I know, dear," I whisper. "You put it there. You shouldn't be afraid of you own bodily fluid. Don't worry, I think I swallowed most of it. And maybe you'd want to lower your voice?"

I sit up and search for a pack of kleenex in my plastic bag. I find it and dry my face and hair. Then I light another cigarette and hand it to Frederik who has buttoned his shorts.

"Please cover yourself, Matilde," he suggests.

"Why? In this light people will think I'm wearing a colourful T-shirt."

"No. They won't! They definitely won't!"

"I thought you were so free-spirited. Working for Politiken and all," I tease him.

I look around. We are at the empty parking area at the stadium, mainly used on big match days. The car is standing next to some dense bushes but behind us and in front of us people are walking and running, crossing the street which runs through the Fælledpark here.

"I think we should continue this under more private forms," he suggests.

"Prude!" I reply and reach for the enormous sweatshirt in the back. I put it on and take back the cigarette from Frederik who has started the engine. After a short, but pleasant, intermission we're back on track to my apartment and a long night in bed.

4.

Monday, May 18^th:

It's my luck that I have my first Monday lesson after the lunch break. It's a quarter past eleven as I stub out my cigarette at the usual wastebasket outside the schoolyard and enter the premises of Fælledparkens Friskole.

The morning was well spent with Frederik who got us fresh bread and cigarettes and a copy of today's Politiken.

Frederik told me that weekends are slow newsdays and Monday's papers accordingly thin. But I didn't expect the story about the Body Art exhibition to dominate the front page of the newspaper itself and on top of that the front page of the culture and debate section. Two of Frederik's best shots of me are printed in large format together with a report on the opening of the exhibition with lots of quotes from our presentation. Inside section two is Torben's enthusiastic review of the exhibition mainly focusing on Casper's impressive work.

Frederik left around 9:30 to get to the paper and I had lots of time to get ready for the day. Now I'm back at school where I meet a smiling Birgit outside her office.

"Hi, Matilde. It's so good to see you!" she welcomes me with a hug.

"You too, Birgit!"

She invites me into her office where we sit down at her conference table.

"Let me tell you the bad news first, Matilde: Christine Christensen and Liva Nørgaard are leaving the school with immediate effect. Their parents don't want them to be taught by a 'porn model', as they put it."

"Okay. Only those two?"

"Yes. Only those two."

"So right now the school is not in trouble because of me?"

"No. On the contrary." Birgit points to a copy of Politiken on the table. "This has had an enormous effect. Around 40 families have called or e-mailed us this morning because they want to hear if their kids can start here after the summer break. And they all said they wanted them to be taught at this broad-minded school where the inspiring and free-spirited teacher Matilde Jørgensen is working."

"Oh!"

"Yes. You've become quite a role model. Politiken's impact seems a lot stronger than Ekstra Bladet's. At least here on Østerbro."

"That's nice."

"Let's face it, Matilde: You're in Politiken today and as a result you've become cutting edge trendy. You're a sophisticated art phenomenon. Everybody wants a piece of you."

"So it seems."

"And speaking of Politiken... Do you think you could ask their photographer if we could use some of his pictures of you on our website. They're so good."

"Yes. I will. I'm sure we can. I'll ask him tonight at this romantic dinner he promised me."