Chapter 6

I saw Liz before I got moved or even screen-tested. They had a Sunday afternoon off. I took the bus down, and a taxi. She looked great. We stood there only a couple of feet apart. She was in fatigues, and I was in my usual jeans and a shirt. That's all it took. We communicated volumes in those few seconds.

Finally we turned and just walked side-by-side, not quite touching, but not really very far apart, either. She talked of the physical challenges of Basic, and I learned that on those nights when I'd been partying, she'd been in the gym, building her endurance and strength. Colorado Springs is at 6,000 feet, and that had an effect, but she'd adapted fairly quickly. She was tired in the mornings, but every day was better. She liked the challenges, and pushed herself just a little harder.

I told her about what I thought I might be doing. We were walking around this track, and nobody was nearby to hear. I also warned her that someone had gotten the hair up their nose about twin girls sexually involved, and had done my best to kill that idea.

"Good," she said. "That's not me, that's not us. People don't realize we're two separate people."

"I told them that. Look, I'll try very hard not to be a drag on anything you do."

She nodded. "Something will get out, it always does."

I've been told they're going to give us a number of different choices for jobs. If you want I can turn the ones down that would put me in front of cameras."

"I don't want you to give up any dreams you may have."

I snorted. "face it. A lot of my dreams are centered between my legs." I made up my mind then and there that I'd turn down anything that showed my face, or at least try to.

I think she sensed that. "You probably have a good idea, Lea. Stuff like that..."

"Turning to other things, have they told you what you'll be studying?"

That was much safer ground, and something that could openly discussed in front of others. She introduced me to a couple of girls in her Flight, and we walked around the track while they talked. At the end I had to be going. I had 45 minutes to get to the bus station. Liz and I hugged, and I (very reluctantly) took my leave. I was sad and glad at the same time. It'd only been an hour, but it had been a very good hour.

Mrs. Smith heard my concerns, and agreed with them. "Competition in your sister's world can be fairly dog-eat-dog. Oh, not openly, but there are some who would do that if they could just because that's the way they are. Fortunately some of the jobs we have available do not involve getting in front of the camera, or if they do, you'd be fully clothed."

"Such as?"

"We have an opening for a product demonstrator. How are you with cookware?"

"My mother despaired of ever teaching me how to cook."

"Okay, that's out." She drew a line through a listing. "We have an opening for a weather girl at one of the stations we own. You'd have to be bright, perky, and we'd teach you what you need to know to forecast the weather. Your job would be to look pretty."

"Possibly."

"Okay, we also have a couple of staff positions open. You mentioned the vacation town in the Caribbean. Both of these involve the probability of having sex with strangers."

"I'd be more interested in those."

"I thought so. One of them is a clerk in a store in town. The other is an administrative support. You wouldn't be exactly in the town, but you'd have access to it."

"That one sounds interesting, too."

She considered the paper for a bit. "Tell you what. We have a place where you can try the clerk job and see how you like it. After doing that for a few days we'll see how much you like it. If that doesn't work out, we can just assign you to the other job; you're qualified for that one. We'll also keep open a couple of other options as a model."

"Clothed, I hope."

She smiled. "Well, one of them is. We lease out models for some work with the TV shopping channels. You're usually modeling sweaters, dresses, and shoes. As a side benefit you get to purchase some of the things you model at employee discount rates."

"That sounds pretty good. What's the unclothed one?"

"You'd be modeling intimate apparel, usually static shoots."

"Like what I did in Atlanta."

She nodded. "Just like that." She chuckled. "Your bosom, in a bra, could be prominently displayed from one end of the country to the other. Of course they wouldn't see your face, but I know you wouldn't mind that."

That tickled me. One of the girls where I was living had specifically hired on to model, and she had a book full of pictures. I could have one like that with pictures of bras and panties. It would be pretty funny.

Two days later I'd taken my last Customer Service call and was shipped off to see how well I did in person. I was given an apron to wear. It was bare in the back, of course, and my boobs kept slipping out from under it. Technically speaking I was covered.

"don't stay behind the counter," the woman in charge of training said. "Take every opportunity to show off your body, and that includes getting out to get things off the shelves."

She showed me what she meant. The "store" was like one of those old-fashioned ones. There was a ladder on a movable track, and I'd have to climb it. She got several rungs up, and then leaned out to get something, and taking the opportunity to spread her legs and show off her womanly parts. There were a few others, including leaning over instead of squatting.

"Never miss a chance to show things off."

After some coaching, she had me lubricate my nether region. I had to be "ready" most of the time so when things happened we wouldn't take 15 minutes to get me wet.

I actually liked my apron. There were a couple of other girls who were training as well, and they didn't. It either didn't cover enough, or something. In my case I figured it was a good idea to show off. What I really liked was how the lace on the edge just teased my nipples that I became aware of them.

A boy had once asked me about that. It was at the teen party, so I didn't mind answering. Most of the time you didn't notice your nipples. Your arms constantly bumped into your boobs, and most women learned to reach around them when they typed. Your nipples, you learn, develop minds of their own. They tighten up because it's cold, or you get turned on by seeing some hot guy, or because they keep rubbing against something (the seam of a bra was very common). The most maddening time was when they did it for no real reason. You really couldn't make them go down, either, even if you wanted.

Boys equated tight nipples with sexual arousal, and they weren't always wrong. They understood cold air, but all of those other times... ! They'd stare, and you'd get hyper self-conscious. You'd really envy those girls with small boobs because there was room under their blouses to accommodate their nubs; not so with us larger girls.

This apron made my nipples nice and tight, and when they got hard, they got even more sensitive. Before I knew it, I had something that could poke an eye out. That's when the first customers came in.

I don't know where they found them. All I knew was that they were employees of the company, but from a different division. I did what I'd been shown, and I soon had hands on my legs and butt. I also had female hands on my boobs. It was the question all women have: are they real or are they fake? They soon determined the answer, and a couple of the women confirmed it with their lips.

I wasn't impervious to this sort of attention. I returned some of the kisses and caresses. At least one of the women I fondled had fake boobs. The female breast is a lot of duct work with fatty tissue around it, and boobs that large do not stand up on their own.

I also had the first man I'd had in nearly a month. He wore a condom, but by then I was turned on enough I didn't need the lubricated sheath to ease its way into me. I'd been reaching for something on the other side of the counter when I felt that familiar nudge. It was a tight fit, and he took quite a few thrusts to get it in me. Then I was pinned against the counter until he came. I didn't, but just the feel of man there felt good.

I didn't come with any of the men or women who got into me that day. When I got back to my bed I had to finger myself off. All of that pent up arousal needed a release.