Chernivtsy, (formerly Czernowitz) Ukraine — 2010
When Oksana turned 16 she made herself a promise, that she would celebrate her 18th birthday far from this grubby post-Soviet backwater. She was already tall for her age, she was athletic, start of a local girls’ volleyball team, she had long blonde hair, that curled naturally. She was beautiful, and she knew it. She already had an idea.
Her best friend Ludmila was shorter, had dark hair cut into a bob. Ludmila was a dreamer, but Oksana wanted to take her out of Chernivtsy too. She may not have been practical and focussed, as Oksana was but she too could surely make something of a life in the West. Oksana owed her a lot, she knew. She couldn’t imagine a new life without Ludmila at her side.
And it was Ludmila who had a camera. A digital one with a variety of lens attachments, a treasure that Oksana’s family could never have afforded. But Ludmila had an uncle in Germany who sent money, a cousin who sent used copies of Vogue from which Ludmila cut out pictures that she liked, and pinned them to her bedroom wall. The place of honour went to Heidi Klum, laughing, her hair falling round her face, in thigh boots. Other smaller pictures of Heidi were arranged round it, it was almost like a shrine to the German model. For Ludmila worshipped Heidi. She worshipped Oksana too for the same reason, the lithe, long limbed body, the blonde hair, the bearing , a woman at 16 when Ludmila still felt awkward and gauche. She hoped that her devotion might lead to some of Oksana’s poise rubbing off on her. She also knew that her friend had what it took to be a model, she first put the idea in Oksana’s head, and she was determined to help her.
That summer they hung out together a lot, they walked around the town seeking out locations in the parts of the old town that had been restored to attract tourists, way from the dirt and the packs of dogs that roamed loose. Ludmila had her camera, her prized digital camera and they took photographs of each other, mainly photographs of Oksana by Ludmila actually. She was photogenic, she loved being in the lens, as she assumed poses, leaning against walls, pouting, smiling enigmatically, making love to the camera, inviting the world to fall in love with her as it surely would. Ludmila knew that she already was in love with her friend. She felt arousal every time she set out to meet her friend. At night she masturbated to her as her sisters slept. She ached.
One day they took a final picture of Oksana leaning on a gate opposite a cafe. Ludmila noticed the two young women, undoubtedly, western tourists, sitting with coffee and ice cream, talking, watching them, particularly the younger woman with her dark, curly hair. As they walked off to head home to the flat where Ludmila lived on a Soviet era estate on the outskirts, a stuffy and sweaty trolleybus ride away, Oksana looked at the woman, caught her eye and smiled. The woman smiled back, a little uncertainly.
In the flat they went to the small bedroom Ludmila shared with her sisters.
Ludmila barricaded the door. She wasn’t expecting anyone to come back but it was best to take precautions. She told Oksana to sit on the bed, in her corner, in the shine to high fashion, the temple of the Goddess Heidi.
“Move your legs apart Oksana. There is something I need to show you.”
So Oksana did. She looked unsure, a little nervous.
“I’ve never done it before, but I know it’s nice.”
She knelt before Oksana as she imagined herself one day kneeing before her idol. She unbuttoned Oksana’s jeans and gently pulled them down. She moved her friend’s knickers to one side and , for the first time, saw her cunt close up. She felt herself getting wet. Her nipples were hard, rubbed against her bra. She swallowed hard. This was not the time to lose her nerve.
“I’ve never done this before. But I really want to. It will be nice, it will. I promise”
Oksana ran her hand softly through Ludmila’s hair.
“I know it will. I want it too.”
She lay back on the bed, shut her eyes, forcing herself to relax. She too was nervous.
Ludmila buried her face in Oksana’ s pubic hair. She shut her eyes, breathed in deeply to take in the smells, to calm herself. She rubbed her cheek on the hair, heard Oksana moan softly. She was unsure what to do next, she had read things, seen things online but…
“Lick me down there” said Oksana, “That’s what Stepan does. He makes me come.”
Ludmila started, felt a sick feeling in her stomach. Stepan, Stepan, she hadn’t even known that Oksana and Stepan were together. And if Oksana was into boys…
“Girls do it better” she said flatly, feeling as she had never done before that Oksana was using her. But she still worshipped her , she had to, and they would go to Paris, and be models, and share a flat, have a bed…….she tried hard to suppress the thought that Oksana might soon be moving out of her life.
She did as she was told, she licked at the slit, licked at the flower of fleshy folds, tasted the sour juices, knew that she wanted nothing more than to be here, now, and if Oksana was using her she still tasted like nothing Ludmila has known before.
“Play with yourself” said Oksana “and we’ll come together.”
Ludmila felt Oksana’s finger coming down to the clit. She kissed the hand, began to rub her own bud.
Oksana came with a cry and before Ludmila could bring herself to climax there was a bang on the door, a shout,
“Ludmila what are you doing in there?”
Ludmila hurriedly opened the laptop as Oksana buttoned up her jeans, still feeling the post orgasmic glow, still a bit lightheaded. There was another push at the door and Ludmila’s younger sister Roksana walked in.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going through our photographs not that it’s anything to do with you.”
“Show me!”
Roksana sat down on the bed next to them as Ludmila connected her camera to the laptop.
The first photograph to come up was of Oksana leaning against a wall, sunlight haloing her hair. The freckles that she hated made her look even more beautiful as even Roksana had to admit.
“Send that one. Oksana is beautiful. I don’t think either of you is going to be a model, but she is much more beautiful than you. “
Ludmila tried hard not to blush, but she knew that her sister was right. She couldn’t admit it, but Roksana saw her redden. She flashed a smile of triumph.
Ludmila clicked through the next few pictures and saved a dozen, eight of her and four of herself into a folder. She looked at the thumbnails of hers, she was too short, too full in the face too…..
But she turned to Roksana and spoke
“I’ve got dreams. You don’t achieve anything in life without dreams. If you’re happy to stay in Chernivtsy……or go to Warsaw and clean for some stuck up Polish family.”
“Not good dreaming if you haven’t got a chance….”
“Chance of what? Don’t you think you deserve better than this country?”
Roksana said nothing. Ludmila turned to her friend and said
“I’ve done a list of modelling agencies we could try.”
She opened a file where she had saved the web addresses. She clicked on one of them and a blank e-mail opened up.
“We’ll send them here. This one’s in Berlin and my aunt can help us when we get there”
“I suppose I hope you get to go” said Roksana, “But it’s just dreams isn’t it? Do you know how many girls want to be models?”
“I know better than you” retorted Ludmila. We are going to Berlin. We are going to be famous. Just wait and see!”
