Date: Fri, 18 Apr 2008 08:09:59 -0700
From: Miranda Mars <mirandamars4@hotmail.com>
Subject: Laura's Story -- An Interracial Lesbian Romance -- by Miranda Mars -- Chapter 28
This time Laura was not as sad to see Brandi leave. Both of
them knew they wouldn't see one another for a long time, if ever, but
they instinctively knew that what they had shared was too intense for
an everyday relationship. Nothing would ever make it routine. It
was a blazing, incandescent moment, thrillingly pure and timeless.
"No one can come close to you in my heart, Laura," Brandi
whispered to her as they parted. "Just remember that."
She gave Laura a picture, a publicity shot of her fantastic
body, and signed it on the back.
"So nobody has to see it but you," she said.
The inscription read: To Laura - Now and forever, no one ever
loved you more. Signed: Brandi "The Thigh" Pearson, aka Miss Olympia.
Laura smiled and her eyes filled with tears as she read it.
"Now, when I want to come, I can look at your picture," she said
softly.
"I've even got a video. I'll send it to you. But what am I
going to do?"
"You'll just have to visit," Laura said slyly.
Brandi winked, and then she was gone.
It was only after she disappeared that Laura glanced down to
the back corner of the picture. There Brandi had also written: 12 -
an all-time record!
Laura smiled. She hadn't counted her own orgasms, but she knew
it was about the same number. She was still exhausted. Her body
ached, especially her breast which Brandi had nearly gnawed off while
thigh-fucking her, and her pussy, from the crunching rape of the same
thigh. She tried not to think about it, but had no luck. Just the
memory of Brandi's hard, massive, silky thigh between hers,
relentlessly mashing and crushing her pussy into rapturous spasms of
nearly unbearable ecstacy, made her shiver involuntarily and get wet
all over again.
But she went almost two months again without having sex, except
solitary sex. When Brandi's video arrived in the mail, she spent an
entire week just watching it and masturbating almost continuously.
It was nearly an hour long, mostly Brandi in skimpy bikinis, posing,
rippling her muscles, showing off her incredible body. Almost any
portion was enough to arouse Laura. It was like an addiction. The
first time she watched it, she came eight times before it concluded.
It wasn't like having Brandi actually there, but it was second
best. After a few weeks, she could even watch small portions of it,
even settle for one orgasm at a time.
Then, in a totally shocking and unsettling development, she and
Yvette Farmer were thrown together at work on a project so time-
sensitive that they ended up working after hours on it for a whole
week. By the final evening, they were so exhausted that Laura
suggested they take the rest of the work home to her place, order out
for some dinner, and keep working there.
At first, they were working so hard that she didn't really
focus much on how attractive Yvette was. True, she couldn't ignore
the girl's beautiful face, smooth chocolate skin, and lean, tall
body. But Yvette dressed in a very businesslike way, in suits, skirts
below the knee, high collars, definitely not provocative at all. She
was aloof, professional, and rarely let down her guard. She was also
married, and had a small child, which tended to throw a wet blanket
on whatever physical attraction Laura might feel for her.
But when they got to Laura's apartment, and started eating
pizza while they poured over reports on Laura's kitchen table, things
changed. Yvette relaxed. She took off her suit jacket and neck
scarf. She was wearing a sheer blouse, and Laura could see the
straps of her bra under the fabric, sharp white against her delicious
dark skin. They were alone together in her apartment. Oh god, Laura
thought, I want her!
I never realized it until now. She's so beautiful.
And from that moment on she couldn't keep her eyes off the
girl. She knew that if she didn't stop staring, Yvette would notice
the change, and become withdrawn, or possibly angry. But the curve
of Yvette's firm ass under her skirt suddenly became a glimmer of
throat-catching beauty to Laura. Yvette's delicate, perfectly-shaped
throat beckoned her lips, Yvette's sensual mouth invited her, Yvette's
high, small, jutting breasts captivated her, Yvette's friendly, open
eyes and infectious giggle filled her with desire. At one point, she
caught herself looking down at Yvette's calves, since her skirt had
ridden up a little, revealing perfectly shaped, long, long legs. In
fact, Yvette was nearly all legs, several inches taller than Laura.
Yvette caught her looking. But she didn't seem hostile, only
curious.
"You have such gorgeous legs," Laura said, matter-of-factly,
knowing no other way to escape than plunge forward. "Why do you wear
long skirts?"
Yvette smiled mysteriously. "Haven't you ever heard that blacks
have to try twice as hard to get half as far?"
"I guess I have heard that," Laura said softly.
"I dress as conservatively as I can," Yvette said. "I want them
to pay attention to what I do, not to my legs."
"Makes sense," Laura said. "You'd probably cause a few traffic
accidents with those."
"Thanks."
Yvette relaxed even more now, apparently feeling more
comfortable with Laura now that they had spoken of such an intimate
thing. She babbled about her husband and her five-year-old girl, and
the more she ran on about her domestic happiness, the more Laura had
to fight the urge to rip off her clothes and devour her on the spot,
right there on the kitchen table.
Of course, she knew she would be perfectly restrained. She
knew the thought of seducing Yvette was hopeless. But she couldn't
stop her blood from racing when Yvette leaned back to stretch,
clasping her arms above her head, yawning, arching her back and
pushing her breasts forward so that the buttons on her blouse
strained. They weren't large breasts, and she wore a very hard kind
of bra, apparently again to discourage leering speculation, but when
she stretched they pushed out enough to make Laura's pulse throb in
her throat; and, though she tried to ignore it, deep inside her
pussy.
"God, I'm exhausted," Yvette yawned, completing her stretch.
"Me too. We should take a break."
"Good idea. I could die for a martini. But I don't think I'd
feel like going on after I drank it."
Laura could feel herself flushing. "Why don't we have one
anyway? We've really given enough to this project. It won't hurt if
we have to finish it tomorrow."
Yvette's eyes lit up. "You got the gin?"
"I've got vodka."
"That'll do just fine."
Laura quickly made both of them martinis. They went into her
livingroom. Yvette kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs up under
her ass on Laura's sofa.
"Gosh, you know, the first thing I do when I get home, outside
of hugging my little girl, is get these godawful clothes off. Don't
you hate wearing all this shit?"
Laura smiled. She hadn't changed either, out of respect for
Yvette being unable to change.
"I could get you a sweatshirt, or a robe," she suggested. "I
think I'll change, since you mention it."
"A sweatshirt's okay, if you have one."
"Be right back."
Quickly Laura changed into jeans and a loose, fairly revealing
silk top that clung to her breasts, and dipped between them, showing
the valley there. When it hung just right, you could see the large,
swollen outlines of her nipples under the cloth. Karen had given it
to her, then nearly ripped it one time in her hurry to get it off.
Laura liked it. But she wouldn't have worn it for any man she
thought was after her. Too provocative. However, maybe it would
provoke Yvette into something.
She had an old sweatshirt that was cut off at the midriff level
that she grabbed for Yvette, hoping she would be able to stand it if
Yvette decided to wear it.
"All I've got is this old thing," she said, holding it up. "I
don't know, it's cut kind of short. You may not want to wear it."
"Oh," Yvette scoffed. "No one's going to see it but us. Sure
I'll wear it."
She went into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later,
carrying most of her clothes in one hand. She was wearing Laura's
cut-off sweatshirt and only her panties. Her long, shapely,
delicious black legs were completely naked, and Laura had to gulp to
keep from blushing with obvious desire. Yvette was spectacularly
stunning. No wonder she wore severe business suits.
"I hope you don't think I'm immodest," she said, shyly. "It
felt so good just to get out of these, I didn't want to leave my
skirt on. Anyway, you said I should show off my legs, right?"
"Right," Laura grinned and gulped. "God . . . they're
stunning."
"You really think so?"
Laura nodded. She tried not to stare. But she could see
Yvette's bra in her handful of clothes, and the bulging undersides of
her round young breasts were occasionally visible under the fringe of
the sweatshirt, which was really cut off very short. Yvette's
beautiful, taut, velvety black midriff was completely exposed. God,
more of her is naked than covered! Laura realized. Did I do this?
Did I bring this on myself?
Yvette drained her martini and tilted it upside down with a
wink. "Boy, that went down fast."
"Want another?"
"We'll never get back to the report."
"I don't care if you don't."
Yvette grinned her infectious grin. "Race you to the vodka
bottle."
Laura had to watch while the girl unfolded her gorgeous legs
and stood up. Again her eyes fastened fleetingly on the delicious
curving underside of each of Yvette's breasts, peeking out from under
the cut-off fringe of the sweatshirt. For the first time, she could
feel herself getting wet, and a hot, tingling, throbbing pulse began
to beat deep inside her body.
In the kitchen, Yvette grabbed the bottle and poured. "My turn
this time," she smiled. "I bet I make them stronger than you do."
Laura only smiled in return. Now that Yvette was wearing only
bikini panties, the high hard curve of her fantastic ass was totally
exposed. It made the breath catch in Laura's throat. When Yvette
turned to give Laura her drink, she saw Laura staring at her body.
"Should I put on some clothes?"
"Oh . . . I . . . just was looking at how flat your tummy is,"
Laura stammered. "I mean, after having a baby and all. It's
amazing."
"You know, most people didn't even know when I was pregnant. I
mean up until the last few weeks or so. And I do situps every day.
My stomach is hard. Here, feel."
She tilted her hips in such a way as to offer her midriff and
stomach for Laura to feel. Laura tried to deep-breathe away her
anxiety. She wanted more than anything to touch Yvette's body.
"Oh . . . I believe you," Laura gasped.
"No, I mean it. Feel."
Slowly, Laura extended her hand and placed the palm and fingers
on Yvette's velvety midriff. It was hard, and smooth, and warm, and
beautiful. Her eyes burned into Yvette's, which were murky and shiny
from the vodka she had drunk.
"Taut, huh?" Yvette whispered.
"Taut. Very."
Slowly, Laura let her hand climb, until her knuckles were
nearly touching the fringe of the sweatshirt. Yvette's eyes didn't
tell her to stop. She kept going. Her hand brushed one of Yvette's
naked breasts, then cupped it, then squeezed it gently. Yvette's eyes
grew curious, as if in slow motion.
"You're touching me," she finally whispered.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"Yes."
Laura withdrew her hand, but not quickly, just naturally,
letting it fall. Her eyes and Yvette's never parted. I want you,
Laura's eyes said. But Yvette's eyes, though glazed and pulsing with
sexual excitement, were also mixed with confusion and shame.
"Are you . . . do you---"
Laura had to cut right across, before Yvette asked some
unanswerable question. "I've never done that before," she lied,
softly. "I don't know why I did it." Her eyes filled with tears.
God, I never knew I was such a good liar, she thought.
Yvette smiled and put one hand on Laura's arm. "Don't worry
about it," she said.
"I . . . you're just so beautiful."
"You think so?"
Laura nodded.
"Gosh, I think you're way more beautiful than me."
"I'm so embarrassed."
"'Cause you touched me? I don't mind. I've already forgotten
it."
They went back into the living room. But Laura could see that
neither of them had forgotten it. Their conversation was suddenly
stilted and awkward. She thinks I want to fuck her, Laura realized.
And she must know she's right. So she's just being polite.
Yvette sat across the room. This time she didn't tuck her long
legs up under her body. Instead, she crossed and recrossed them, as
if tempting Laura to look. And Laura couldn't keep her eyes off
them. Her prior three girl lovers had had gorgeous bodies, each of
them, but not one had had legs like Yvette's.
The atmosphere was so uncomfortably sexual and awkward that
neither one knew how to continue. After a while, Yvette drained her
glass and said she should be going. Clearly Laura's hand on her
naked breast had changed everything between them.
Laura's heart sank. Oh god! she thought. She'll never come
back! I'll never have another chance.
"I wish you'd stay," she said.
Yvette stood up, then walked over to Laura, who stood up too.
"Why, so you can touch me again?" Yvette asked, almost coyly, not out
of anger, not hostile.
Slowly, Laura nodded. "Yes," she whispered. "I do want to
touch you."
"You really are one, aren't you."
Laura reached her hand out and slowly ran one finger tenderly
along Yvette's cheek, then traced the outline of Yvette's sensual mouth
with her fingertip.
"I can't deny that I really want you, if that's what you mean,"
she said softly, her eyes wet but steady, showing her desire clearly.
Yvette seemed very calm, not alarmed. "At least you're honest
about it," she said. "I'm going to change in the bathroom, since I
know how you feel."
"Fine," Laura smiled sadly.
Now they were very formal and stiff, and Laura's heart throbbed
with pain. She really liked Yvette, as well as wanting to sleep with
her, and she hated it to end like this. As Yvette disappeared,
carrying her clothes, down the hallway, Laura couldn't take her eyes
off the girl's incredible legs, or her half-naked back. She
remembered the feel of Yvette's firm round breast in her hand, and its
thick soft nipple. Even though the girl was leaving, and nothing
would ever happen between them, Laura could feel the wetness and hot
itching in her own pussy.
But she got control of herself. Yvette reappeared, completely
dressed. She smiled and dangled the cutoff sweatshirt from one
finger.
"Sure would like to borrow this, though," she said.
"It's yours."
"You sure?"
"Anyone who looks like you do in it should own it," Laura said.
There was an awkward pause. Then Laura got control of herself
again.
"Can I call you a cab?"
"I think I'll just call my husband," Yvette said, slightly
emphasizing the last word.
Laura smiled and nodded. At the doorway, as Yvette left, Laura
couldn't help raising her finger to the girl's face again, and
tracing a gentle path down her smooth dark cheek.
"I want you to know I wouldn't have done anything to offend
you," she whispered. "But I can't help wanting you."
Staring straight into her eyes, Yvette took Laura's wrist and
brought Laura's palm to her mouth, kissing it. Then she turned and
walked away.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The Laura story chapters are now available, in both text and html formats,
on the ASS html archive site at http://www.asstr.org/~laura. Text files may
also be downloaded via FTP at ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/laura.
The chapters are now also available in html format at http://www.thevalkyrie.com/stories/miranda/index.html.
© Copyright Miranda Mars, 1999-2008. It is unlawful to reprint or otherwise
distribute this material without the written consent of the author.