Photo Credit: "Erotic Apple Art" by Snake on Photobucket
When fashion hairdresser Shawn Mount said he wanted to write a book about his disintegrating marriage to model wife Heidi--three years the face of Chanel--I expected the usual story, hungry girl, beautiful clothes, uncaring industry, husband left in the wake of her success. But hunger is the least of it, almost a benevolent condition, in the picture Shawn paints of the modeling industry today.
"Why do you think there is this explosion of ethnic, Eastern European, Third World girls on runways?" he asks. "The blonde, blue-eyed American beauty model like Heidi is an endangered species because Heartland American parents don't want their underage girls handed cocaine and champagne and hustled out on the town with men who pay for the privilege of being around models, including having sex with them.
"The girls are pimped out by the industry. It's ugly."
His marriage to the American beauty rose hasn't exactly been pretty. Today and next week, I will post excerpts. The proposal is done. All we need is an agent and a publisher willing to take on the modeling industry--and A MODEL HUSBAND will be next fall's blockbuster title.
Today's excerpt: WHO IS HEIDI MOUNT?
If you don’t know her name, you do know her face. You’ve seen it in ads for Chanel, DKNY, Alexander McQueen, Anne Klein, Givenchy, Rochas perfumes and more. She was theface of Chanel for three seasons. Stephen Klein shot her in Dolce Gabanna. Growing up in a family of modest means, she is known as one of the few American girls who can do cool, edgy runway as if she were born to strut in expensive clothes. With success, the gifts and designer freebies and party invitations came pouring in.
By the time she was 19 and famous, Heidi moved into kinkier sex, more drugs, more alcohol.
Alexander McQueen gave her dresses and said, “Do you think your husband will fuck you in this? I want his semen stains on the dress when you send it back to me.”
Sometimes she did lines while having sex with her husband, sometimes she did them off his penis. She wanted rough sex with him—and then she wanted it rougher. He strove to find safe ways of acting out her fantasies safely, but often they just went after each other, switching the dom and sub roles.
Heidi had a one-year lesbian affair; and sometimes he would be included in threesomes. He was jealous of the intimate time she shared with her lover. She began inviting other female friends to join her and Shawn. He suspected she had other flings on the side, including with a man she text-ed over 200 times in one evening. She was drinking too much, doing more drugs. Sometimes she cut herself. He sought treatment for depression.
Now in his own words--
People glimpse her at a party or in photographs snapped while dashing in or out of the festivities. They pour over her face and body in ad campaigns.
“What’s it like to be married to that?” they ask.
That takes four hours and a team of professionals to create.
I was married to the woman people don’t know about. She doesn’t like to shower on a day off—or brush her teeth. Her feet stink. She picks her pimples. Without the dazzling make-up and hair, you wouldn’t recognize her.
But I loved her……
She has every food allergy possible and an incredibly sensitive digestive system that is easily upset. She routinely locks herself in the bathroom holed up with a bottle of Febreeze. She has a night drooling problem, she's also so sweaty at night and ruined my Calvin Klein sheets; and she won’t exfoliate! Her excuse was always, "In Paris I only shower like twice a week and that’s a lot there!" Thank you God we had incredible chemistry and her "smelliness" never really bothered me. I was constantly shaking toothbrushes and loofas in the air and giving short speeches about personal hygiene. Oh and don't even get me started about our debates over dental flossing, Jesus Fucking Christ... at least she shaved her pussy and armpits...
The drugs really came into play during this time.
The kinky sex began.
I found her self- mutilation kit, which was very upsetting. I knew what she was feeling, how trading one pain for another can release something inside you. As a fighter, I understood and empathized with her. Her body had been the subject of so much abuse, molested as a child, raped as a teen, told by agents and stylists and others that her body was “too fat.”
It was difficult. I thought about breaking up with her. I even tried to leave her at “Curry in a Hurry” on Murray Hill, but I didn’t have the heart to do it. Or, I told myself, maybe it was fine to have a casual girlfriend like this…
Ha! We were anything but casual.
Something sparked me; and I realized that we could go into the darkest part of our fetishes together. When she really opened up and told me her deepest fantasies, I couldn’t even do some of them.
One day, she was ripping the skin off my back with her nails. I got a huge adrenalin rush. I thought, ‘She actually wants to go there.’
I picked her up off couch, turned around, threw her into center of floor, walked to the floor lamp, ripped off the cord, hog-tied her with the cord. She was sweating and pumped. I ripped a black t shirt and blind-folded her. She couldn’t move, tied with hands behind her back, legs spread open. I went into the bathroom and poured rubbing alcohol over my back. Standing in a pink pool of blood and isypropl alcohol, I gazed into the nothingness, I inhaled and exhaled simultaneously, engaging my core, physically and mentally preparing myself, I was centered. Shocked. No longer human and not unlike an animal. No thought- no mind, di-associative and reactionary driven by instinct alone.
I grabbed a wand dildo and a vibrator and relentlessly I gave it to every hole in her body. I can't publish the graphic nature of what ensued that afternoon but, it was like an extreme bella donna trance or Sasha Grey scene. My cock was in her mouth, then fucking her ass, now the dildo in her ass, the vibrator in her pussy, my cock back in her mouth….
That experience sparked a whole new level of intensity in our relationship. She released all her sexual fantasies on me. Intense stuff. I kept thinking, I don’t know if I can do this or if there is a safe way of carrying it out..
I was quite literally using sex in lieu of psychotherapy working things out in the bedroom or the living room and the couch in this case. Talk about a fucking "couch trip!" I always would laugh when guests sat on our couches, lol... Heidi was diligent with one household task one at least, spot cleaning out cum off the sofa.
That event lite the fuse to a whole new thing, really releasing all her sexual fantasies on me. Intense stuff. I don’t know if I can do this or if there is a safe way of carrying it out.
But she said to me after the hog tie, “I guess I don’t have to have two guys; you filled every hole.” So I knew I could satisfy her………….
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