"Call me Conrad. And come in here! We've got a lot to talk about!"

He led her past the receptionist, who had lost her sneer by this time, and into his office.

"Well," he said, stand there a moment, "let me look at you. Head up, come on, if you want to act."

Cathy was still blushing, but she got her head up. "What did my mother say?"

"Oh, fuck, Shiela," Conrad replied. "She never understood a thing anyway. Now, take that coat off – my God you're beautiful!"

He walked around her, examining her inch by inch. Her soft, sensuous face with its very slightly snubbed nose and wide-spread fawn eyes. The generous lips, open slightly, red and full, curving as if in invitation. And Cathy was still blushing, making her look even more beautiful. He made her turn, pull her shoulders back, admiring the soft lines of her young body, her thrusting tits, her swelling ass and wonderful, long, shapely legs.

"Here," he said, "put these on."

It was a pair of five-inch heels, and Cathy had some trouble with them. They also made her a little nervous: her mother said high heels were the devil's work and tempted the lusts of men, but then Cathy felt safe with her uncle, so it didn't matter.

"Just walk a bit." He watched her. "Jesus H. Christ! The things those do to your legs! Not to mention your ass. Well, fuck me, sit down and let's talk."

His language made Cathy feel nervous, but then he was her uncle so it must be all right.

"You act at all?"

"Just in school," Cathy said, looking at him more closely now. Her uncle had to be in his early forties, but he was still a wonderful figure of a man, tall, commanding and very secure in his movements.

He leaned back, studying her. "So where are you staying in town?"

"I-I don't really know. The Y, maybe, I hadn't…"