Keep Practising

Her tongue pushed its way through my lips as her fingertips danced their way down to my tummy, where the lightest of touches made me tremble. I jumped as her fingers bumped into my cock, which was straining against my knickers.

She reached down and released it and circled the head with her fingers, almost making jump off the bed at her touch. Emma giggled and licked her fingers before teasing me once more until I was writhing beneath her. She leant forward to blow across the head and I nearly exploded.

I opened my eyes to see her hitch up her skirt and pull aside her knickers. Her eyes locked with mine as she took me in her hand and guided me inside her. I closed my eyes again as she moved up and down, slowly at first, then faster as my excitement built. I tried to hold back, but I couldn't wait any longer, and thrust upwards, and my climax ripped through me and exploded into her. It seemed every nerve ending in my body fired, sending seemingly never-ending tremors cascading through me.

Emma had not finished yet, and she kept bouncing up and down on me, arching her back and rotating her hips until she shuddered and yelled, "Fuck" as her orgasm crashed through her. She rolled off me, and we lay side by side, trying to recover our breath.

Emma grinned at me. "Well, did it help?"

"Help what? Help how?"

"I mean, to find out what you are?"

I frowned. "Um, maybe. Only a little, I guess." Emma's face dropped. I grinned back at her. "But, I'm afraid I'm going to have to do a lot more research."

Like the first few days after I arrived, I didn't leave the apartment for the next two days. But this time, it was not because of fear. Emma was a wonderful teacher and lover. She patiently taught me how to give pleasure and how to take it with every part of our bodies. I had never dreamt I could get so much enjoyment from giving as well as getting.

The best things always have to end, however, and far too quickly the day I had been dreading arrived. Emma was flying back home the following evening, so I took her back to the restaurant where we had eaten the first night we met. I knew I was falling for her, but I didn't know if she felt the same for me.

It was a perfect summer's evening. The sun was flicking off the water, and the marina was full of people enjoying the paseo - the evening stroll before dinner. Yet, my heart felt heavy and Emma was subdued, too. She fiddled with her food and wouldn't look me in the eye.

Finally, she asked, "Josie, do you know when you will be back home?"

"Maybe a couple of weeks more here, then I have to get back to work."

"Ah, the plumbing."

"It's all I know how to do."

Emma had an odd look on her face. "Maybe, maybe not."

"Why do you want to know?" I held my breath, hoping I would get the answer I wanted.

"Because I would like to see you again, that's why."

My heart soared. "Are you asking for a plumber?"

"Well, I'm sure I have some pipes which need unblocking."

I grinned. "In that case, I had better pack my rods. Yes, I would very much like to see you again."

We almost ran back to the apartment, and our clothes were on the bedroom floor within seconds. We made love urgently, knowing that it would be awhile before we could do it again. Emma eventually fell asleep, but I couldn't, and lay looking at her face as she slept. I knew I was in love with her, but I wasn't brave enough to risk telling her. After losing Sofia, I couldn't bear the thought of opening my heart to someone who might reject me. I imagined Sofia shaking her head at me and saying, "Be yourself, Josie. Move on."

Chapter Thirteen

I woke to find Emma spooning me. Nice, I thought. I could get used to this. I felt her stir and she kissed the back of my neck. I could definitely get used to this. We ate breakfast on the balcony, and I could tell Emma wanted to say something. I trembled at what I hoped she would say.

"Josie, have you ever thought about modelling?"

"Err, what?" That wasn't what I was expecting at all.

"Modelling. You know, fashion, clothes, catwalks."

I looked to see if she was making fun of me, but she looked perfectly serious.

"Are you on drugs? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm serious. Have you heard of Seth Atwell? Stav Strashko?"

I shook my head.

"David Chiang? Artyom Eduardovic?"

"Nope, who are they?"

"They are fashion's latest hot models. Boys who can model men's and women's clothes. Here, have a look." She opened her iPad and showed me pictures of several models. Some of them could be boys, but I was convinced some of them were girls.

"Emma, they're beautiful, but what have they got to do with me?"

"Josie, when will you get it through your thick head that you are beautiful."

"You're off your chump. Emma."

She looked a little guilty. "Promise you won't get mad at me?"

"Why? What have you done?"

"I sent some pics I took of you the other evening to an Agency I work with."

I got mad. "Emma, you had no right to do it. It's not right."

"OK, OK. I'm sorry, but do you want to know what they said?"

I folded my arms across my chest and glared at her.

"Maybe, maybe not." I was sulking, for sure, but despite myself, I wanted to know.

"Well, they came back and said they had enough girls on their books."

"That was a waste of time, then."

She looked even more guilty.

"Actually, I went back to them and said you weren't totally a girl."

I exploded. "Fuck, Emma. That's not fucking on. Where do you fucking get off doing fucking something like that?"

"Look, I didn't name you or anything, that you were a friend of mine."

"Friend? Is that what friends do?"

"Just listen to me, please, without shouting at me."

"I'll fucking shout at you if I fucking want to."

She went pale. "OK, but please chill out, please. When I told them, they instantly said they wanted to see you."

"What?"

"They said they wanted to do some test shots. If those come out well, then they want to see you. My friend got extremely excited about you."

"Why?"

"Like I said, androgynous models are hot. Every model agency wants one on their books, and they have been looking for the right one. He thinks you might be it."

"Why me?"

Emma sighed. "Because you are as beautiful as a boy as you are a girl." Emma risked a grin as she said, "And, you have something about you that makes you stand out."

"Oh. But, I'm not a model. I don't know anything about modelling."

"Babe, the camera loves you. That's all that matters. You can learn the rest."

"Mmm, I don't know."

"Josie, there aren't any guarantees, but at least say you'll think about it. At least you've stopped swearing at me."

I glared at her. "That doesn't mean I'm still not mad at you for what you did."

"Will you think about it, then?"

"I don't know, I might."

"Don't pout, Josie. It doesn't suit you. Admit it. You are curious, aren't you?"

I picked up a cushion and threw it at her. "I hate you." I tried and failed to stop a smile spreading across my face.

She grabbed me and tickled me, something that always got me squirming in delight. We rolled onto the floor with me sitting on top of her, and I pinned her down by her arms. "Yes, you bitch, I am curious. What happens next?"

She tried to break free, but I held her down. "Let me up and I'll tell you."

"Nope, not until you pay a forfeit."

She stopped struggling. "What kind of forfeit?"

"This kind." I leant forward and kissed her.

She grinned. "Is that the best you've got? I deserve a bigger forfeit than that." She pushed me off her, and we rolled around the floor until magically all our clothes had vanished. Somehow, we ended up on the bed where we made love with me on the top.

"Mmm," said Emma, "I could enjoy paying forfeits if they were all like that. Does it mean you've forgiven me?"

"Jury's still out." I propped myself up on one elbow and stroked her hair. "Are you sure I could do this?"

"Yes, yes, a million times yes."

"Mmm. If, and I mean if, I say yes, what would happen next?"

She sat up, and her breasts jiggled invitingly in front of me. I put out my hand to stroke them, but she batted it away. "Do you want to know, or not?"

"Sorry, Miss."

"That's better. When I get back home, the agency will set up a photo shoot for you, and if it goes well you'll get called back for a test."

"Test?" I squeaked. "What kind of test?"

"To see how you walk and if you're OK to do runway work."

"You mean at an airport?"

Emma roared with laughter. "No, you airhead, on the catwalk, at fashion shows."

"Oh, but I don't know how."

"Come on, I'll show you." She stood up and went to the end of the room and walked towards me. "Scissor your legs, putting one across the other. Look straight ahead, don't look down and definitely no smiling. Shoulders back and straight, let your arms swing naturally." Emma stopped, stared straight ahead with her hand on her hip. "Hold the pose for the camera boys to take their pictures, then turn and walk back."

I started to giggle, tried to stop by putting my fist in my mouth, then burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?"

I couldn't stop grinning. "It's your tits bouncing up and down. I can't take my eyes off them."

"OK, funny girl. You have a go."

"OK, but don't laugh. I've never done this before."

I tried to copy what Emma had done, but I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

"Stop grinning like a chimp." Emma barked. "Put your shoulders straight, and for God's sake, put some knickers on. Your cock is distracting."

I practised a few more times and began to get the hang of it.

"Not bad, baby. Now try it in heels."

Easy, I thought. I enjoyed wearing heels, and I thought I was good in them. Pride comes before a fall, they say, and this time it was literally true. The first time I tried the model walk I fell on my backside. I squealed, and all Emma could do was laugh.

"Hah, serves you right, funny girl. Do it again."

I was more careful this time, and even Emma approved.

"You're getting it, Josie. Keep practising."

I giggled, and Emma frowned. "What's funny?"

"Sorry, it reminded me of something. I'll tell you sometime. Which reminds me, we need to get you to the airport."

It was a silent drive to the airport. I thought if I said anything, I would end up crying. The airport was heaving with people, but all too soon we were at the security gates. We embraced, and I was on the point of tears when Emma whispered, "I love you." Before I could say anything, she turned and walked past the security guard, where I couldn't follow. I watched her for as long as I could, but she didn't look back. I fumbled for my phone and sent her a message. 'I love you too.'

Within seconds I had a response. About a hundred smiley faces and hearts followed by 'Keep practising.'

Epilogue

Backstage, it feels like everyone is panicking. Models, dressers, make-up artists, and hangers-on are milling around, and the designer looks as if he is going to stroke out with stress. But there is order amongst the chaos. The music begins front of house, and almost by magic, there is a line of models ready for the runway. I am fourth in line and one model touches my arm and blows me a kiss. Another mouths 'Good luck, honey.'

The line moves, and before I know it, I am strutting onto the runway and into a maelstrom of music and lights and applause. Strangely, I am not nervous as I've practised this so many times with Emma. I know she's out there in the audience, and I want to make her proud. Muscle memory takes over and the walk, the face, and the pose and turn at the end of the catwalk are second nature, and then I'm on my way back for my first outfit change. From the corner of my eye I see a glimpse of a man and a woman sitting together in the front row. The man is smiling broadly and gives me a wink. The woman is dabbing her eyes and gives me a smile as I pass.

Parents, huh?

El Fin