[Sholandra]

 

 

Laura worked late one night and it was dark when she got to the parking garage in the basement of her building, where only a few cars were left. She was a little nervous, and stepped quickly, looking around herself, into the shadows. As she slid her key into her doorlock, she heard some scuffling, and muted whimpering, about fifty yards in back of her.

Then a tiny yelp escaped, a women's desperate voice, and more scuffling. Oh god! she thought, peering into the darkness. Then another muffled yelp, and a sound like clothing being torn. Oh god, somebody's being raped! she thought.

She had a can of pepper spray in her purse for just such a moment, and without even thinking, she reached for it and dashed toward the sound. It took her only seconds to get there.

It was Sholandra, bent back over the hood of her red Miata. The rapist was on top of her, his cock jammed up into her, thrusting savagely, holding one hand over her mouth, and bending her arm up behind her back.

She was whimpering and struggling, and again without thinking Laura let out a blood-curdling scream and hurled herself onto the man, kicking and scratching wildly. Startled, he pulled back, and she let him have it in the face with the pepper spray.

The man let out a tortured cry, flinging his arm up over his face. Then he quickly pulled up his sagging trousers and ran. It was all over so fast that both Laura and Sholandra were left panting, staring into the darkness where the man had fled.

Sholandra was crying. Her clothes were ripped, and she was half-naked, but Laura didn't even notice. First she hugged her, then she pulled her up.

"Come on, we're getting out of here," she said.

Sholandra, for all her usual defiance and snide wit, obeyed completely as Laura took her quickly back to her own car. Only as Laura began to drive away did she speak.

"My . . . car," she whimpered softly.

"Leave it here," Laura said firmly. "We can come back for it. I'm going to drive to the police station so you can report this."

"No," Sholandra shook her head, tears beginning to pour down her cheeks again. "No no."

"We have to."

"No, I can't. Please . . . Laura."

Grimly, Laura drove to her own apartment and took Sholandra upstairs. She herself had been raped, by Yvette's husband, and by Rina's boyfriend. She knew how it felt, how Sholandra felt.

The fact that she had earlier wanted to fuck this beautiful girl totally disappeared as she made Sholandra a hot bath, then tucked her into her own bed, warmly dressed in a flannel nightgown. She had not looked once at the girl's delicious naked body, taking brusque and no-nonsense precautions to avoid doing so, and making them clear to Sholandra.

Looking up at Laura from under Laura's bedcovers in Laura's bed, wearing Laura's nightgown, her eyes watered again. "Thank you," she whispered.

"It happened to me," Laura said, softly.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Would you pour me a drink? I don't think I'll be able to sleep without a drink."

"Of course."

Laura made a drink for Sholandra, but none for herself. They talked briefly, and Sholandra fell asleep. Laura slept on the sofa. In the morning when they got up to go to work, there was tension again. Laura guessed it was because they had spent the night together in the same apartment. Sholandra had even slept in Laura's bed.

"I have to go home to change my clothes," Sholandra said.

They both regarded the shreds and rags of her clothes where Laura had dumped them by the door. Sholandra burst into tears again at the sight of them. Laura put one arm around her.

"It'll take a while," she said. "You can wear some of mine home. I'll take you to your car. I'll come home with you, if you want."

"Would you? I hate being such a baby, but . . ."

"Of course I will."

In Sholandra's apartment, Laura felt very uncomfortable. Sholandra was in her bedroom, presumably putting on some fresh clothes. But Laura couldn't help remembering the last time she was there, and how the sexual tension had been almost unbearable. She had wanted Sholandra, while Sholandra had wanted to tease and reject her.

But now Sholandra was grateful, even slightly sheepish.

"I . . . wanted to ask you where you got that . . . thing, whatever it was, that you sprayed at that guy," she said, averting her eyes.

Laura hugged her again, this time more gingerly, not wanting to seem to be taking advantage of the moment, or Sholandra's weakness. Then she quickly dropped her arm.

"It's pepper spray. I was raped twice. I got it then. Just in case. Tell you what. At lunch time today we can go get you some. I have to replace mine anyway, now. How about it?"

"Would you? I mean . . . do that for me?"

"Of course."

Now Sholandra was embarrassed by her emotions, and they dropped the subject. Later, at lunch time, they did go together to the store where Laura had bought the pepper spray. Walking back, Sholandra asked her, "You were raped?"

"Yes."

"I guess I can see why. I mean, you may like girls, but they wouldn't know that. Or care, I guess. And you're really beautiful."

Laura said nothing.

"Did they hurt you?"

"Yes."

"God."

They walked on in silence, causing many stares, since both were stunning.

"Did he hurt you?" Laura asked softly.

It was softly said, but Sholandra suddenly and unexpectedly burst into tears. She stood on the sidewalk, sobbing, leaning against a light stanchion. Not wanting to hug her in public, Laura put a comforting hand on her arm.

"Oh god . . . I'm sorry," Sholandra wept.

"You'll be okay," Laura murmured. "You will."

In a moment Sholandra got control. She wiped her eyes. They walked slowly back to work.

"She got her boobs pumped up, did you know that?" Sholandra sniffed, asking a bizarre question out of the blue.

"What?" Laura said.

"That model you look like. Stephanie Seymour. She had a boob job."

"So I heard."

"I can't imagine why. Her boobs are probably already great."

Laura blushed. It was almost as if they were talking about her own breasts. She wondered why Sholandra was rattling on about this.

"I wouldn't know," she said, vaguely.

"I've thought of it," Sholandra said. "Mine are kind of small."

Laura realized that Sholandra was looking sideways at her. She also realized suddenly that their relationship had taken on a whole new dimension. Not only the rape, but now Sholandra was talking to her about their breasts. That could have never happened earlier, when Sholandra had been so hostile. What is happening here? she wondered.

She smiled at Sholandra. "Mine aren't really big either. But no one's ever complained."

Their eyes met, and Sholandra didn't turn hers away. Instead, they smoldered briefly, locking with Laura's, and Laura felt stirrings of sexual excitement. Then Sholandra looked away.

Back at work, they parted smiling, businesslike again, no hint of the brief waves of heat that had passed between them on the sidewalk. But Laura couldn't help watching Sholandra as she walked away, her eyes fastened on the girl's marvelous, shapely legs and swaying bottom. And she knew Sholandra knew she was watching, for Sholandra seemed to walk extra slowly, giving Laura the complete show.

A week later they were thrown together in a meeting, which lasted very late. It was eight o'clock when they were both walking to the parking garage.

"I took a taxi to work for a while," Sholandra said. "I couldn't bear the thought of parking here. It scares me even now. I'm glad you're walking here with me."

"You have your spray can," Laura said.

"Yes. Thanks to you."

"Here, get in my car and I'll drive you to yours."

Sholandra smiled. "Thanks."

When they reached her car, she leaned close and touched Laura's hand on the wheel, a totally unnecessary and very intimate gesture. Her mouth was only inches from Laura's, but Laura knew they were not going to kiss. Still, Sholandra's sensual mouth was wildly tempting. God, it'll ruin everything if I try it, Laura realized.

But Sholandra's eyes were smoldering again. "Laura, I---"

"I know. You don't have to thank me again," Laura smiled, cutting her off before she could say anything else.

But Sholandra was not to be silenced. "I wasn't going to thank you again. I . . . wanted to say something else."

But before she could say it, her eyes dropped to Laura's lips, slightly parted. And then her own lips touched Laura's, curved into them, moving, warm, expressive. Laura began to respond, totally thrilled and bewildered by this unexpected kiss, when Sholandra suddenly pulled back.

"Oh god . . . I don't know why I did that," she said, fiercely ashamed. "I . . . I . . . oh god, Laura, forgive me."

But Laura only smiled faintly. "I forgive you," she said, trying hard to conceal the irony.

"I . . . I didn't mean to," Sholanda sputtered softly.

"I know."

Laura put her hand on Sholandra's, but this time Sholandra pulled hers back, as if a snake had bitten her.

"You don't have to explain anything," Laura said. "I liked it."

Hatred and fear and anger poured back into Sholandra's eyes. "Don't say that!" she almost hissed. "How dare you say that?"

Laura shrugged. "Because I did. You're very beautiful."

"I'm not a lesbian," Sholandra snarled. "Don't get the wrong idea."

"What am I supposed to think?" Laura asked, gently.

"Not that!"

"Okay. I don't." She put her hand out tentatively again, but Sholandra shrank back against the door of the car. "Sholandra, I won't touch you again, if that's what you're afraid of."

"Oh Laura . . . I'm sorry," Sholandra suddenly blurted out, and tears began to stream down her cheeks.

Laura suddenly realized what she was going through. Sholandra really did want her, and the confusion and shame was causing her this violent turmoil.

"Here's your car," she said brightly, changing the subject. "I won't leave until you're sure it's going. In fact, I'll follow you out, to make sure."

Sholandra blinked back her tears. She was both defiant and vulnerable, and wildly fetching to Laura at this moment. "Laura, please forget what happened," she almost whispered. "I . . . just lost control, for a second."

"It's forgotten," Laura said, warmly. "You have my phone number. Just call if you want to talk. Take care now."

As she had promised, she followed Sholandra's car out of the parking garage, waving as they went separate ways. But it wasn't forgotten. Sholandra's beautiful face, her eyes sparkling with tears as she fought confusion, guilt, and desire, maybe even lust, stayed with Laura.

She almost hated herself for responding so sharply to the girl, but by the time she got home she was wet and throbbing, unable to forget the brief kiss. If only she had given in to it, Laura thought. But she couldn't let herself.

I wanted her. I want her.

Laura went to the bathroom and drew a warm bath. As she lay in it, getting ready to quench the fires Sholandra had lit in her body, she began to recall things she had earlier suppressed: images of Sholandra's half-naked body, her clothes hanging in rags and tatters, as Laura had rescued her from the rapist.

The feelings aroused by this recall were complex. After all, Sholandra had been violated, brutally attacked, and the glimpses Laura had caught of her naked flesh had not aroused her at the time. But now, her mind's eye dwelled on the smooth expanse of Sholandra's midriff, on the globe of a small breast and large, soft, black nipple that reminded her of Jonelle's nipples.

In fact, the memory of Sholandra's nakedness half-concealed by her ripped clothing was wildly arousing to Laura, even more than she would have expected. She found herself trembling and moaning softly, her hands moving to her crotch, then up to her breasts, twisting her nipples, making them throb.

"Ohhnnnnn!" she moaned softly, stroking her wet pussy with one fingertip, from top to bottom, then back up, flicking her clit gently at the end, gasping sharply. "Unh! Oh!"

She was more aroused than she had suspected. She knew it would take next to nothing to make her come. An image of Sholandra's sensual, pouting lips swam before her, and she remembered the kiss, Sholandra's beautiful face, her half-naked body in her torn blouse . . .

"Oh god . . . unhh!" she panted.

Hands shaking, she adjusted the stream of water from the faucet so that it was warm but not hot, and gushing out as strongly as possible. Then she lay on her back, summoning the images of Sholandra again as she slowly slid her groin under the stream of water.

"Aunngghh! Ohngg! Ahhnnn! Oh! Oh! Mnnnggnneee!" she cried out, trying to muffle her screams, aware that they were echoing through the bathroom.

A sharp, rupturing orgasm shook her body, wrenching her, and filling her with fiery bliss before it set her free, almost as quickly as it had arrived. Slowly, she struggled up and turned off the faucet.

"God . . . I want her, I want her," she murmured to herself, still panting softly from the aftershocks of her climax.

She toweled herself off and put on the same nightgown she had loaned to Sholandra, then went to bed, hoping this explosion of coming would release the tension enough to let her sleep. And she was drifting gently off when the bedside telephone rang.

"Yes?" she answered drowsily.

It was Rob. "Sorry to wake you."

"It's all right. I wasn't asleep yet." Dreaming of her, Laura thought. Trying not to get horny all over again.

He whispered, as if trying not to wake somebody. "Can you come to dinner here tomorrow night? I'm going out of town."

"Oh, but really coming back unexpectedly? Right?"

"If that's okay with you. Is tomorrow good?"

Laura could feel the familiar, excited stirrings already, even after her explosive bathtub orgasm. "Tomorrow couldn't be better," she purred.

"You plan to be here at seven. I'll be called away before you arrive. Just you and Camille. How long should I give you?"

"Gosh . . . I don't know. It depends on how resistant she is. Or how shy."

Laura thought ruefully of Sholandra.

"You know," she warned, "if she isn't interested, we'll just have to forget it. We can't force her."

"I can't imagine anyone who wouldn't want to sleep with you," Rob said.

"Believe it or not, there are a few."

"I understand. I won't push it. But I can't believe you aren't interested enough to try to make it happen. What did you think of her?"

"She's very beautiful."

"You wanted her?"

"Yes."

"I can tell you one thing, just to motivate you further. She's really a tigress in bed. She likes to bite. And scratch. And she's just as insatiable as you are."

"Mmmmm," Laura smiled, "I thought you were only going to tell me one thing."

Rob chuckled. "Seven o'clock. She'll be expecting you."

"I'll be there with bells on," Laura said, before hanging up.