I could tell from Izzy’s face that something disastrous had happened.

“Vivi can’t do it, she’s got Covid!” She sighed. “So much for my entry in that photography competition. The deadline’s tomorrow!”

Izzy had been inspired by the Pre-Raphaelite movement ever since we started going out at art college. Her dreamy, romantic photographs had received a lot of positive feedback on Instagram and she saw an opportunity to expand her salon business with the trend for more extreme avant-garde styling.

“Can someone else do it?” I asked, knowing she was really demanding and difficult to work with.

She looked at me. At first, it was a look of disdain, but then it was as if she was sizing me up.

“You’ll do.” She said, her eyes wandering over my face.

“Me?”

“Yes, Alex, you!”

I could tell she was picturing how I would look, but my silence gave away that I was less than enthusiastic. To be fair, she had made me up before, and it had always been fun, but I was not a model and had no desire to be featured in an international magazine.

“Yes, I think a slightly boyish look will work well, and, trans is so edgy at the moment!”

Her beautiful eyes locked onto mine and silently pleaded with me. Her joyous smile sent warm shivers rushing through me when I quietly consented. “Thank you, honey! Thank you!” She squealed and her passionate kiss took my mind off my lingering doubts.

Izzy followed me into the bathroom and asked if she could shave the hair from my legs and arms. There was no point in arguing, so I let her. It felt so sensual, and when she rubbed body lotion over my smooth skin, my cock grew so hard it was almost painful. She made me sit in her chair and slowly drew me into her mouth. Her thankful lips and tongue soon brought me to a shuddering climax and she licked me clean.

I blissfully let her get to work. Stage foundation whitened my already ivory face, while a gel that stung, plumped my lips. Lashes applied; eyes wrapped in smoky blacks and browns; eyebrows tidied and pencilled; cheeks rouged; lips over-painted in the deepest and most erotic shade of red. She scooped my bohemian locks into a hairnet and placed the platinum blonde wig on my head, straightening, shaping and brushing until the gossamer strands floated gently over my bare chest and down to my thighs.

An electric blue and purple fascinator that she had crafted from silk and melted plastic, was clipped in place. I stood up when beckoned and she sprayed my body with a glitter-mist that made me sparkle and glow. She helped me into the scanty chain-effect costume and sandals, padding out my chest and concealing my manhood.

Her set was as clever as she was. A large painted drape with coloured foil inserts was the background and three larger versions of the fascinator could be arranged as foreground. I would pose on a black beanbag. For hours, she adjusted the lights, rearranged the set and gave me instructions. I pouted and posed on cue, but she never seemed completely happy. Suddenly her face flashed with inspiration.

“Imagine you’re at home alone,  in your bedroom. You’ve dressed like this. Now someone’s calling you.”

I looked anxious.

“Yes! That’s it,” she said excitedly. “They’re outside your door. Look over my right shoulder. Oh yes, honey, yes!” She shouted.

I now actually felt anxious.

“It’s your step-sister."

"You fancy her."

"You’re scared but excited."

"Will she love how you look?"

"The door begins to open."

"Oh, Yes, yes, yes!”

The frantic clack-clack-clack of the camera stopped and Izzy began to flick through the pictures.

“O.M.G. These are brilliant!” She rushed round to show me, her excitement overwhelming. “Don’t you dare move! I need to check the quality of these first.”

She disappeared and I lay back on the bean bag. I was quite turned on, partly from the imaginary situation and partly because I had really pleased her. I looked down at my body and brushed my long tresses across my skin and the costume. I touched my throbbing cock and felt incredibly sexy.

Izzy returned. A bright sparkle lit up her eyes.

“O.M.G. Alex, those are totally perfect. I’ll just Photoshop them a bit tomorrow. You look amazing. Inspirational!”

“All your work!” I answered, looking up at her coyly, embarrassed by my state of arousal.

“Mmm.” Izzy moaned, noticing my hardness. “You are just so hot Alex!” Her eyes were on fire.

I instinctively leant back as she purposefully strode towards me. She pulled her strappy dress over her head and threw it to the side. Mesmerised, I watched her pull down her panties in front of my face and was immediately bathed in her sweet aroma. Her pink folds glistened in the studio lights and my tongue stretched out in desperation. She held my head and pressed those lips into mine. My lips and tongue caressed her until she trembled and shook.

She crouched and kissed me insatiably, savouring her taste on my lips. I felt her hot, slick pussy rubbing against the head of my cock and I moaned. I inhaled sharply as she sank down on me, sliding me inside her, wrapping me in her desire. She began to fuck me. Her hips gyrated as her tongue ravaged my mouth. I listened to the sound of her flesh slapping against mine, faster and faster. My mind was filled with ever-intensifying spirals of pleasure. All too soon, I erupted with a deep groan. She pushed all her weight down on me, arched her back and screamed. We collapsed in each other's arms.

It is now three months later and my picture has gone global. Her business is thriving and expanding. Best of all, she is expecting our child. I am her muse and I absolutely love it!