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From: "Miranda Mars" <mirandamars4@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Laura - Chapter 310
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Date: Fri, 19 Jan 2007 19:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "310makshel.txt" begin>

       Laura - Chapter 310







       No sooner had Laura returned home from Charlotte than Makeeda got a 
call from her agent.  Due to illness a famous jazz artist had canceled a 
club date in New York City and they were seeking to plug in Makeeda and a 
jazz trio as a substitute for two weeks.

       "Oh my god!" Makeeda gasped into the phone.  Laura thought her 
darling was going to faint.  "Oh my god," Makeeda repeated.

       At first, after the initial jolt of excitement, Laura could see she 
was going to beg off.  Even though her career had lately burgeoned and 
thrived, being a jazz/cabaret singer was never going to make you rich.  She 
would have to pay her expenses to and from and while in New York, and she 
had little money.

       "My treat," Laura whispered, before Makeeda could hang up.  "I'm 
going with you.  And I'll pay."

       Makeeda covered the phone mouthpiece with one hand.  "I can't let you 
do that."

       "You can too.  I insist.  I need a vacation.  I can stay for . . ."  
She thought, then counted on her fingers.  ". . . three days.  Maybe four.  
Then I'll have to come back.  We have to get someone to feed Mingus and Monk 
[they had got another cat; `two old married lesbians with their cats,' Laura 
had thought with mock dismay] while we're gone. Settled."  She pointed 
peremptorily to the phone in Makeeda's hand.  "Tell her.  Find out when you 
have to be there."

       Makeeda obeyed slowly, as if sleep-walking.  She stared at Laura in 
disbelief the whole time she was assuring her agent that she would be in 
Manhattan the following day by three p.m. for a brief rehearsal before her 
first appearance in the club that night.

       "You can't be serious," Makeeda had said in shock, looking a little 
ashen as she put down the phone.

       "I am perfectly serious," Laura said.  "Come here and let me show you 
how serious I am."

       She covered Makeeda's face with kisses, and since they had not yet 
made love since her return--though Laura felt a little guilty for having 
exhausted herself in fucking Randi during that absence--they immediately fell 
on Laura's huge bed and devoured one another.

       The following day in New York, since hotel prices were astronomical 
and Makeeda, at least, would be staying for two weeks, they checked into an 
older, cheaper hotel on Seventh Avenue in midtown, a third-tier hotel which 
Laura could almost afford.  She had succeeded in wheedling five days off 
from her job.  Makeeda had to start rehearsals immediately, so that she and 
her ad hoc trio could get accustomed to each other and cobble together some 
quick repertoire.  Laura, preferring not to sit there and make Makeeda 
uncomfortable, spent the afternoon at the Museum of Modern Art.

       The jazz club was a place called Freddie's, on East 27th Street, and 
Makeeda did two sets, one at nine, another at eleven.  It was a small place, 
seating perhaps seventy to eighty people tops, but though she opened on a 
Thursday night, there were only five people in the audience, not counting 
Laura, for the first set, and six or seven different people for the eleven 
o'clock set.  Laura knew Makeeda was a little depressed by the sparse crowd, 
but in her slow career rise she had played to small crowds before, and at 
least the people who were there were very attentive and enthusiastic, as 
well as liberal with their applause.

       Nevertheless, as they rode in a cab back to the hotel, Laura could 
sense a very dismal mood growing and simmering and blackening inside 
Makeeda, who was glum and did not want to talk.  Laura forced her to stop in 
the hotel bar for a nightcap.  "It'll help you sleep.  You've had an 
exhausting day."

       Makeeda nodded.  She spoke little.  Laura tried to coax her feelings 
out of her.  Makeeda snapped at her.

       In their hotel room, Laura tried to embrace her.  "How about a little 
loving to make you feel better?"

       But Makeeda did not allow herself to be embraced.  Laura had seen a 
few of these moods before and decided to let well enough alone.  "How do you 
feel, paying for all this, for ten or twelve people?" Makeeda suddenly 
snarled.  "In a city of eight million people, I can draw a dozen?  Wow, some 
singer!  Twelve people."

       "It's a Thursday night," Laura said, lamely.  "Maybe Freddie's didn't 
do a very good job of getting the word out."

       "Isn't this the city that never sleeps?  Isn't it supposed to be: If 
I can make it here, I can make it anywhere?"  Her face fell.  "Guess I can't 
make it anywhere."

       "Do I detect a note of self-pity?" Laura teased, trying to cheer her 
up.  "I never knew you to let it get you down before, when there are only a 
few people.  Remember?  The Happy Few?  Didn't we call them that?"

       Makeeda looked at her sourly.  And yet, to her chagrin, Laura could 
feel an overwhelming wave of sexual desire flooding her own body at that 
moment.  Something about Makeeda being this depressed, this vulnerable, made 
her wildly desirable to Laura, who wanted to tear off her clothes and feast 
on her perfect naked body until Makeeda succumbed to one of her `Oh god, I'm 
dying' orgasms, the kind that seemed to leave her in a near-death state for 
several frightening minutes.  If you have an orgasm like that, my darling, 
you'll forget all about tonight's trivial disappointments.  Let me fuck you 
and make you come and tomorrow night they'll be fighting to get into 
Freddie's.

       Makeeda saw Laura's look.  They were by now, Laura knew, very 
transparent to each other.  Neither could disguise her lust, when it came on 
suddenly like this.  They were combustible, they yearned for each other, 
though sometimes not in synch, as now.  "Forget it," Makeeda whispered, 
managing a half-smile.  "I'm exhausted."

       "I know."  Laura smiled understandingly.  "Beddie bye.  I'll tuck you 
in."

       Listlessly, Makeeda slipped into her nightgown and got into bed.  
Laura went into the small bathroom so she wouldn't have to watch and become 
inflamed by this woman's incredible naked body which, even after nearly a 
year, she could not train herself to ignore.  Then, she switched off the 
light, slipped into her own half-nightie, and climbed into bed next to 
Makeeda.  She leaned over and kissed her shoulder, which was bare since 
Makeeda's nightgown had spaghetti straps.

       "I love you," she murmured, but Makeeda was already asleep.

       Outside the window, though it was past midnight, New York continued 
to roar and rumble, honk and screech.  It was a constant, never-ending rush, 
this town.  It got into your blood.  You wanted to rumble and froth too, 
just like it was doing outside the window.  Laura found it hard to sleep, 
but soon the vodka tonic she had drunk in the bar downstairs while trying to 
get Makeeda to relax ended up relaxing her, and she slept without knowing 
it.

       She came awake--she hadn't the slightest idea what time it was--to the 
feel of Makeeda's warm, hard, naked body pressing urgently against hers.  
Makeeda had done this before, several times in the brief history of their 
relationship: coming alive in the middle of the night, out of nowhere 
almost, to announce her raw, physical need by swarming over Laura, setting 
her flesh on fire out of a sound sleep.  Laura had never known anyone, of 
all the women she had had by now, who had done this.

       Her response, as soon as she came awake, was pure, though a little 
groggy, delight.  Even though Makeeda was being a little rough, even ripping 
Laura's nightie in her haste and urgency, tearing away at her own and 
crushing her hard, sleek flesh into Laura's body, there wasn't a single 
thing about it that Laura would not want to feel.

       "Oh god . . . yes!" she gasped into Makeeda's shoulder, then almost 
gagged on her own breath as she felt Makeeda's lips tearing at one of her 
nipples, then felt it apparently going down Makeeda's throat.  "Unhh!  
Owwnncchh!  Oh!"

       Makeeda knew she had hurt Laura and quickly eased up, letting Laura's 
pinched, wet nipple slide back out of her mouth, but this brief accident did 
not for a second diminish the force of her hunger.  "I love you . . . you 
are everything to me!" she half-growled--her voice low and muffled and nearly 
incoherent, but somehow also plaintive and sad--into Laura's body, into her 
breasts, as her lips sought Laura's other nipple and this time sucked and 
mauled it a little less viciously.

       "Oh!  Ohhhhh!" Laura moaned, twisting and exulting at this fierce 
onslaught.

       The room was dark but enough light filtered in from outside for her 
to see Makeeda's beautiful dark body gleaming as she lifted her nightgown 
over her head and extricated Laura from what was left of hers.  Meanwhile, 
incredible New York City roared and pulsed and seethed outside the window in 
the dark.  Laura's hands ran up Makeeda's marvelous body to her perfect 
breasts, squeezing them hungrily, her fingers twisting Makeeda's swollen 
black nipples, which were also gleaming in the half-light.

       But Makeeda was having none of it; she was in charge and quickly 
swarmed over Laura's now-naked body once again.  For Laura there was the 
added thrill of being irresistibly devoured by the woman you loved, and 
since was Makeeda was strong and willful, she could do nothing but give in.  
And she wanted to give in.

       "Yes!" she gasped.  "I love you too.  You know I do."

       Makeeda was already scissoring Laura's pelvis with her legs and 
pushing her own pussy into Laura's, pumping and fucking her almost 
violently, grinding and pumping in a fierce, rocking rhythm, looming over 
her in a cowgirl position, looking down, grasping Laura's swirling naked 
breasts in both hands and twisting and squeezing them roughly.  This was not 
to be a gentle, sensual bit of love-making.  It was rough and demanding and 
sharp and searing.  Makeeda leaned down and sucked Laura's neck, and bit her 
shoulder, and her mouth again tore at Laura's nipples.  For a long time 
there was no sound in the hotel room but their hot, feverish panting.

       Then she was sitting up again, pumping, grinding, fucking Laura more 
urgently, more frantically, gyrating her own strong pelvis into Laura's, 
mashing her cunt into Laura's, her breath ragged and her marvelous hazel 
eyes glowing like a cat's in the semi-darkness.  They fucked like this, trib 
fashion, quite rarely, and almost never with Makeeda on top, in a sitting up 
position, except when she wanted for some reason to dominate and half-rape 
Laura, as she was now doing.  It was not exactly contrary to her nature, but 
usually she was content to be adored and ravished, not the other way around. 
  Yet each time this happened Laura was flummoxed and wildly aroused by the 
thrill of it, and this time was no exception.

       "Unh!  Oh . . . unh!  Unngghhmmnngguunngghh!" she grunted softly as 
Makeeda's pelvic thrusts raised her own lower body off the bed with their 
compact force.

       Again she let her hands run up Makeeda's marvelous naked body, 
touching the hard muscles of her midriff, clutching her firm, swaying 
breasts, holding them in both hands and gazing deep into Makeeda's glowing 
eyes, even though they could only barely see one another in the 
semi-darkness.  Makeeda's breath was rough and irregular, and she was 
increasing the tempo, throwing her head back and lunging forward, fucking 
Laura faster now, either knowing that Laura was going to come soon, or 
because she was going to come herself.

       Laura squeezed her breasts and tried to pull her down closer.  "Kiss 
. . . me . . . honey . . . kiss . . . me . . ." she gasped between each 
sharp thrust of Makeeda's hips, feeling her pussy throb and tingle as her 
inevitable orgasm drew nearer.

       Makeeda leaned down.  "Are you going to come?"

       Laura nodded.  "Any second.  Kiss me and stop for a minute."

       She encircled Makeeda's back with her arms, pulling her down, 
crushing Makeeda's firm breasts into hers, devouring her slackened mouth, 
forcing her to stop the fucking for a moment since it was impossible to 
thrust when they were this tightly embracing.  Their tongues stabbed in a 
delirious frenzy of sharp desire.

       Then Laura's grip loosened, and Makeeda slowly pulled away, sitting 
halfway up again and beginning to thrust again.  "Fuck me . . . Cynthia . . 
. fuck me . . . Cynthia . . ." Laura panted to her, looking deep into 
Makeeda's almost orange cat's eyes, the normal hazel color having flared 
into these glowing embers.  This was a strange chant that had deep meaning 
for both of them, since Makeeda did not like being called by her real name 
but extended Laura permission from time to time since it sounded a note of 
intimacy between them that no one else could share.  At the same time, it 
made her a little angry, which Laura knew, and she began to fuck Laura more 
roughly because of it.

       Since both were about to come anyway, this added acceleration and 
heat only brought them closer to the finish line.

       "Fuck me . . . Cynthia . . ." Laura panted.  "Yes . . . fuck me, 
Cynthia!  Ungghhh!  Oh!  Yes!  Mnnngghh!"

       And again Makeeda began to show some reaction too, hints that she too 
was going to lose control.  Her body quivered and her ragged panting became 
soft, plaintive moaning.  Her fingers clutched Laura's thighs, her hips, her 
arms, her breasts, and she pumped Laura's pussy more and more frantically 
with her own, until both of them were surging and straining wildly together.

       "Oh god, yes honey!" Laura cried out, feeling her climax arrive.

       "Mmmnnnggeeee!" Makeeda cried out a split second after Laura, 
actually beating her to the finish by a hair since it was clear she had 
begun to come even before crying out.  Her body clenched and shuddered, and 
her spasming fingers almost clawed Laura's flesh.

       "Auunngghhhh!" Laura groaned, coming in sharp jolts, her own body 
arching and bowing up from the mattress as she felt the full weight of 
Makeeda's delicious flesh slump onto her.  "Auunnngghhhh!"

       Makeeda did not fall into one of her endless, soul-obliterating 
orgasms but instead remained conscious throughout, though apparently crushed 
and wrenched by the sweet hot spasms that kept her body twitching and 
jerking and quivering on top of Laura's for, it seemed, several minutes, 
with soft, helpless mewls escaping from her mouth.  They were completely 
locked together and did not move, except to breathe, during the whole time.  
They did not speak.  They were deeply in love, Laura knew, but never more so 
than at this moment.

       After another minute or two, Makeeda whispered.  "I must be crushing 
you to death."

       "If you move, I'll kill you," Laura whispered back.

       Makeeda nuzzled her neck.  "If you call me Cynthia again--"

       "I'll get raped again," Laura cut across her, giggling.

       "You just might," Makeeda said, tenderly kissing her forehead, then 
rolling to the side.

       They stared up into the darkness, both on their backs, listening to 
the ceaseless hot throbbing of the city outside the window.  After a while, 
in a soft, distant, even voice, Makeeda told her that a notable jazz singer 
had leapt to her death from a window in this very hotel about five years 
earlier.  She had left a suicide note, but the contents were never revealed. 
  With a wry smile, Makeeda said she wondered if this singer had ever drawn 
a mere dozen people to one of her club dates, implying that it was reason 
enough for suicide.  But then she sighed and tried to smile more 
philosophically at Laura.

       "I never liked her singing much," she murmured, "but it's kind of a 
sisterhood, you know?  Thinking of it really almost sank me last night."  
She reached for Laura's hand.  "If I didn't have you, I really think I would 
sink sometimes."

       Laura knew that anything she could say at this moment would be 
pointless.  So she kissed Makeeda long and deep, then held her tight.  The 
following evening so many people were trying to get into Freddie's that the 
club owners scheduled three instead of two sets each night, beginning the 
next night.  It turned out that a columnist from a New York paper had been 
there, one of the Happy Few, on the first night, and had written a glowing 
review of Makeeda the following day.

       "See, I told you," Laura gloated to her when they returned to their 
hotel room.  "I told you they would get the word out and then you would be 
the toast of the town."

       "Better than being toast," Makeeda smiled.

       The hotel maids had cleaned the room and very pointedly, Laura 
supposed, spread out Laura's ripped nightie on the bedspread.  As if to say, 
`We know what you two are doing in here.'  Laura picked it up and dangled 
the shreds of cloth in front of Makeeda.  "This is the third nightie of mine 
you've destroyed in acting out one of your rapist fantasies."

       Makeeda looked a little guilty.  "Sorry.  I couldn't stop myself."

       Laura dimmed the lights and crossed the room to her, taking Makeeda 
in her arms.  "That's okay, I'll give you about twenty years to stop it.  I 
guess you know that means I'll have to sleep naked from now on.  I only 
brought one nightie."

       Makeeda kissed her neck, then sucked it passionately.  "I guess you 
know that means probably the same thing will happen tonight that happened 
last night."




       Laura flew back on Sunday night, leaving Makeeda to enjoy her 
triumphant conquest of New York for another week.  On Monday morning, though 
groggy and tired, she was back in the office.  It was not until the 
afternoon that she remembered Bonnie, the girl downstairs in the alley 
sandwich shop, and the little `date' they had made to browse the new 
Bloomie's, which Laura had shamefully reneged on, without even giving Bonnie 
a warning.

       She felt enormously guilty and vowed to go down and apologize 
immediately.  But before she could break free, she got a call from Shelley, 
the hot Macy's underwear model she had been seeing on and off now for about 
two months.

       "Oh god, Laura, Margaret's coming home from Paris," Shelley said, in 
an ambiguous panic, either very upset or very excited by this news, or 
perhaps both.

       "You don't sound too pleased," Laura observed calmly.

       "Oh, I am.  You know how I love Margaret."  Laura did know this.  
Shelley genuinely loved Margaret.  "But it means I can't see you as often.  
Can you come over now?  God, as soon as I got the news from her, I realized 
I was so horny for you I couldn't sit still."

       This was the kind of news that could only make one smile, Laura 
realized.  Bonnie would have to wait.  "I have to stay until six.  Can you 
sit still until then?"

       Shelley pouted fetchingly over the phone.  "I'll try.  Want me to 
pick you up?"

       "You don't live more than four blocks from here, darling," Laura 
said.

       "I know, but they're long blocks."

       "I'll walk.  Good for my legs.  You know, a guy I once knew said all 
the girls in Paris have great legs.  From all that walking they do.  So, how 
am I to compete with Margaret if I don't walk to give shape to my legs?"

       "You don't have to compete with Margaret," Shelley said in a low, 
smoky, sensual voice.  "She's number one, and you're off the charts."

         This compliment was enough to make Laura's day, and she nearly 
whistled aloud while making the brief walk after work to Shelley's apartment 
building, one of those glass and steel highrises adjacent to the Moscone 
Center.  Shelley, who had had time to prepare, greeted Laura at the door 
wearing a wispy orange bikini, and was barely able to keep a straight face 
as Laura took in the sight hungrily.

       "You just lounge around the place in a bikini most of the time?" 
Laura quipped as she stepped inside.

       "Only when I know someone is coming who I want to ensnare," Shelley 
snarled playfully.

       Laura, standing just inside the door to Shelley's apartment, having 
gone no further, was nearly paralyzed with lust.  This was a stunning girl, 
with a stunning body.  And most of it was clearly visible.  Furthermore, 
Shelley, a professional model, knew just how to turn and pivot and walk and 
pose to make it even more wildly desirable.  She displayed a little of this 
skilled repertoire for Laura as Laura followed her into the apartment.

       Laura was hypnotized.  Shelley was not very dark, though not really 
light-skinned either, not like Shontay, for example; instead a wonderful 
warm brown, even light enough to develop tan lines, which she got from 
sun-bathing on the small deck of the apartment.  Laura found them wildly 
sexy.  The bikini was actually four triangular patches of orange cloth, two 
for her full breasts, two more for her pubis and her bottom, attached by a 
thong that ran through her crotch.  Lucky thong, Laura thought.

       When it came off, there were triangular patches of lighter brown 
skin, as well as thin lines where the white straps had been running up her 
shoulders or around her hips.  The paler ghosts of the bikini's presence on 
her marvelous body.  Laura had seen the patches, the tan lines, in the past, 
but never the actual bikini.

       "So this is how you get those wonderful lines on your wonderful 
body," she said to Shelley as they reached the living room.

       Shelley made another playful moue at Laura.  "I have to leave them on 
because I saw a movie once where a guy was looking from about half a mile 
away through this gigantic telescope at a naked girl sunbathing, and at the 
end of the movie he tried to kill her."

       "Anyone who could kill a girl that looks like you should be locked up 
in a rubber room," Laura observed.

       Shelley flirted.  "Why, thank you, Laura."

       "When's Margaret due back?"

       "Day after tomorrow.  I figure that will give me one day to get over 
the guilt of having you here.  So I don't, you know, make any false steps."

       "I'm sure she would forgive you whatever little missteps you may have 
taken in her absence.  It was a long time."

       "I guess you don't know Margaret.  She's the possessive type."

       "How can she possess a wild creature like you?"

       This, instead of cheering Shelley up, actually caused her dismay.  
"Wild?  Do you think I'm wild?  Oh god!  I'm not wild.  Really.  Maybe you 
got that impression because I just . . . sort of came on to you at Macy's.  
I'm just a scared little mouse.  I stay home alone all the time, except when 
you come over and we . . . do this.  I'm really not wild.  Please, Laura, 
say I'm not wild.  I only try to look wild.  I'm not really wild."

       Laura went over and took the delicious half-naked creature in her 
arms, kissing her warmly.  "I only meant you're wild in bed," she soothed 
her.  "You are wonderful and wild to fuck.  I only meant that.  I've been 
lucky to know you."

       Shelley had the longest braids of any woman she had ever known, and 
more of them.  There were literal cascades of tight, thin braids hanging 
nearly to her waist.  Even though Laura knew they were that long through the 
magic of extensions, their allure was still irresistible.  How braids like 
this could be so sexy she didn't know, but she had the evidence of Randi, 
whom she had spent exhausting hours in bed with only weeks ago (though 
Randi's braids were now much shorter than these), and this enchanting 
Shelley to prove it.

       In fact, Shelley had initially, before they had met, lured Laura by 
the promise of allowing Laura to `touch' her braids.  Which Laura had done, 
and was now doing again, for the umpteenth time.

       "You're the only woman I've ever known who uses the `F' word," 
Shelley confessed softly into Laura's cheek while Laura stroked her braids 
and ran her fingers through them.  "Margaret would threaten to wash out my 
mouth with soap if I said it."  She had a thought flash.  "On second 
thought, that's wrong.  I did know a girl.  She rode a motorcycle and called 
herself a dyke.  She liked thinking of herself as a dyke.  But she was as 
sweet as anything in bed.  Not rough or tough at all, you know?  Sweet and 
tender.  But she used to say `fuck' a lot.  More like an exclamation, 
though, not like you do.  Nobody ever told me they wanted to fuck me until 
you did."

       Laura raised an eyebrow.  "But you knew they did."

       Shelley smiled and tittered.  "I knew it since I was thirteen."

       Laura was already busy trying to devour Shelley's marvelous body and 
smooth skin, so much of which was available.  Her mouth was already 
descending to the valley between Shelley's wonderful breasts, her tongue 
pausing to lick sensually the raised, shiny keloid scar, the size of a 
quarter, below Shelley's left collar bone.

       Shelley was built like a more curvaceous version of Laura herself, 
fairly tall and willowy, but with much more substantial breasts and bottom, 
and a tiny waist that threw it all into marvelous shape.  Laura had feasted 
on this rare body frequently in the past few months and now realized, with a 
sharp little heart pang, that her feasting was about to be curtailed.  It 
made her briefly hate Shelley's sweetheart Margaret, whom apparently Shelley 
could not keep quiet about for even a few minutes.  It was Margaret this and 
Margaret that.  She had talked about Margaret before, but never this much.  
I'm going to make you forget Margaret for an hour or two, my pet, Laura 
thought.

       Already her lips were touching the swelling inner bulges of Shelley's 
fine breasts where they pushed out beyond the cloth patches of her bikini.  
"I think I want these," Laura murmured.  "I want them in my mouth."

       Shelley shivered and laughed softly.  "God, you make me so wet, the 
way you talk to me.  I don't know whether I can live without you, Laura, 
when Margaret comes back."

       Margaret again! Laura cursed inwardly.  "You don't have to."

       "What about Makira?" Shelley asked.

       "Makeeda," Laura said.

       "Yes.  Her.  Between her and Margaret, we'll never get to fuck."

       "There you go using the `F' word," Laura teased.  "Here, let me take 
this off."  Laura untied the bow where the strings of the bikini bra met 
behind Shelley's neck, under a long wave of thin braids.  Then she peeled 
the two patches of orange cloth away from Shelley's terrific, beautifully 
shaped breasts.  "Oh god, I love the way your tan makes them a little 
lighter than the rest of you."  She traced the tan line around one full, 
sculptured breast with her forefinger.  "They are so beautiful."

       "I hope you're going to do more than just admire them," Shelley 
half-croaked, softly, clearly beginning to feel the effects of the simmering 
sexual excitement that was now surging in them both.

       The first time they had fucked Laura did not recall having seen these 
tan lines, but over the next few months the weather had improved, and 
clearly Shelley had been spending more time on the deck.  Each time she had 
grown a little darker overall and the patches left by her bikini lighter.  
It was a marvelous effect on a girl who was already dark to begin with, 
though not as dark as many Laura loved.  Dawn, or Carmela, for example, 
could never do this.  All the sunbathing in the world would not leave them 
with tan lines, their skin was so richly and vibrantly dark to start with.  
But Shelley was just brown enough for some parts to be light brown and the 
rest dark brown, and the effect was amazingly sexy on her.

       Laura cradled one perfect breast in both of her hands, like a 
precious object, which it certainly was, and began to lower her lips to 
Shelley's big nipple, a jutting, thick center stub surrounded by a wide 
circle of caramel areola, already showing little bumps from her sexual 
arousal.  But Shelley stopped her.  With a cute, self-satisfied smirk, she 
lifted Laura's face back up with two fingers under Laura's chin.

       "Not so fast," she panted, her dark eyes pulsing.

       "Why not?"

       "Because I said so," Shelley smiled, beckoning with her finger.  
"Come with me."

        Since it was evening and late fall, the sun was already down and the 
twilight outside was quickly deepening.  In her bedroom--again, as always, 
they passed Margaret's on the way, though this time the door was pulled 
almost closed so that Laura could not peep inside--Shelley had lit three fat 
candles and placed them strategically, so that soft light spread through the 
entire room.  She had pulled the bed coverings completely down to the 
bottom, exposing nothing but white sheet.  Laura could feel her own flesh 
tingling.  Shelley's marvelous naked brown body looked delicious against 
this white sheet.   She could hardly wait to see it that way again, moments 
from now.

       On the pillow was a black strap-on dildo and a red buckling harness, 
lying there like . . . what?  A bomb waiting to go off?  An invitation?  
There was no way one's eye would not be drawn immediately to them.  The 
black dildo, Laura saw with a quick glance, was not a long, ridged one like 
her own, but shorter and thick, shaped more like an actual penis, an average 
sized one, though maybe a little fatter than a real one.

       "Oh goodness, what have we here?" she exclaimed softly, walking over 
to it and touching it gingerly with one long forefinger.

       She and Shelley, though they had been fucking on and off for two 
months now, had never yet used a toy.  And, unlike Laura's experience with 
some other lovers, it had not been from scruple or shyness, but only, she 
supposed, lack of interest.  They had been so busily consuming each other's 
body that the thought of other ways to fuck had never occurred to them.  
Until now.

       And Shelley, very cute, Laura thought, seemed about to blush.  "Can I 
tell you something?"  She was especially fetching since she was standing 
there with her luscious, perfectly upswept breasts exposed, the bikini top 
hanging down loosely by its bottom string only.

       "Please do," Laura smiled, as if to show her that the idea of some 
hot rollicking sex with the strap-on was perfectly welcome to her.

       "I love being fucked from behind."

       Laura raised an eyebrow and waggled her finger in front of Shelley's 
face.  "There you go using the `F' word again.  What am I going to do with 
you?  I seem to be a bad influence.  What will Margaret think?"

       Shelley gave her an alluring half-smile.  She moved her shoulders so 
that her delicious naked breasts, which she knew Laura to adore and hunger 
for endlessly, shimmied and quivered.  "I was too embarrassed to tell you 
before.  It seemed so . . . selfish."

       Laura went over to her and again filled both hands this time with the 
warm brown globes of Shelley's scrumptious breasts.  "Darling, if you let me 
suck these paragons of beauty, I will fuck you any way you require until the 
sun comes up.  And no one will ever know but you and me."

       Shelley looked down at Laura's hands holding her breasts.  "What's a 
paragon?"

       "Ummmm, something nothing else can equal," Laura murmured, nuzzling 
her long smooth brown neck, then raising her lips to Shelley's earlobe, 
licking it, sucking it, then nipping it gently.  "How about it?  Deal?"

       Shelley's face broke into a smile.  "Deal," she whispered.  "Only . . 
. take these off," she plucked at Laura's clothes with her fingers.  
"Promise me you won't get carried away.  Like, we'll do that first.  I've 
been dreaming of it for days."

       "You mean you don't want me to simply smother you with passion, the 
way I usually do?  Rape you, and fuck you madly?" Laura asked as she quickly 
tore out of her clothes.

       Shelley removed the bottom half of her bikini with tantalizing 
slowness.  There were enchanting tan lines also around her pelvis.  "You can 
smother me all you want . . . as long as you . . . you know, do me that way. 
  I can come really hard that way."

       "I wish you had told me before, my darling," Laura said, reaching for 
the red buckling harness.  "There's nothing I like more than making my 
darling Shelley come hard.  I want her to come so hard she'll never forget 
me."

       "Fat chance of that happening," Shelley said, sidling up to Laura 
just as Laura discarded her last piece of clothing and pushing her naked 
body into her.  "I could never forget you."

       The time for talking was finished, at least for the moment.  They 
fell together on the exposed sheet and began kissing and rubbing their 
bodies together happily, gurgling and cooing, but not speaking.  Laura only 
had the harness about half on and had to interrupt their feverish groping 
and kissing long enough to sit up and maneuver it properly into place.  The 
fat, black, fairly short (by comparison) dildo jutted up obscenely from her 
groin, looking hilariously absurd but also somehow thrilling.  She knew the 
sight of it thrilled Shelley, who could not take her eyes off it.

       Laura had known a few other women--maybe even more than a few, she 
reflected--who had very powerful orgasms when being taken doggy style from 
the rear.  She herself could not discriminate: hers were pretty much the 
same either way, but she had known others like Shelley who seemed to come 
harder that way.  If I had only known . . . she thought again, pulling the 
delightful, long, lissome beauty down beside her and kissing her hungrily.

       "I get to suck a little first," she murmured against Shelley's smooth 
brown cheek.  "It really gets my engine charged up.  Then I can really ram 
you like you want."

       Shelley laughed a full, throaty laugh.  "Promise?"

       "Mmmmm, I promise," Laura half-growled, kissing her neck, her smooth 
shoulders, her chest, licking the little keloid scar again, then letting her 
lips trail down the girl's fresh young body to her marvelous naked breasts.

       For the next several minutes she made love to them as they truly 
deserved.  She had spent, it seemed, hours in the past worshipping and 
adoring these marvelous upswept brown globes, and yet her hunger for them 
apparently never ceased.  She cradled each breast in her palms and moved her 
lips back and forth between them, tonguing and sucking Shelley's delectable 
brown nipples until they were wet and hard and jutting, the wide areolas 
shiny with warm spittle and covered with tiny bumps, and Shelley was 
whimpering and squirming.

       "God, you do that so good," she gasped to Laura, watching Laura 
love-maul her breasts until could barely stand to have it continue and 
needed badly to have Laura get to the ramming.  "I need it," she whispered.  
"You make me need it more than anyone I've ever known."

       Even the sainted Margaret? Laura wanted to tease her, but restrained 
herself.  There was only so much playful taunting that could be allowed 
before it became pointed and meaningful instead of passionate whimsy.

       "Mmmm, then turn over and let me fuck you," Laura purred to her, 
sucking the stiff wet nipple that was closest to her lips harder than ever 
now, making little strangled yelps surface from deep in Shelley's throat.  
"Let me fuck you doggy style and rip and ram you and make you scream and die 
with coming, my darling."

       Laura knew that nasty words at this juncture would be like gasoline 
on Shelley's fire.  Especially for someone who was curiously observant about 
who used the `F' word, these inflammatory little arrows would surely fan her 
flames.

       Getting into the spirit of things, Shelley stopped Laura from sucking 
and nearly inhaling her breast by pulling Laura's face up to hers.  "Yes!  
Yes . . . I want you to fuck me!  Now!  Fuck me now, Laura!"

       Laura grinned.  "Ooohhh, you make me hot!  I'm going to give it to 
you hard."

       Shelley broke into a grin too, twisting her body around now so that 
she was flat on her stomach, with her delectable bottom upraised.  "I hope 
you will," she murmured almost demurely.

       Contemplating this splendid swelling brown ass, Laura briefly 
wondered if she shouldn't plow both holes now that she had the opportunity; 
but then reconsidered.  She and Shelley had never discussed anal sex, and 
that was not what she had been invited to do.  It might come later in their 
relationship, but not yet.  And the sight of the girl's beautiful inflamed 
black pussy glimmering pinkly under the swelling brown moons was enough to 
engage Laura's sexual interest to the fullest extent.  It was all wet and 
glistening and swollen, and she could hardly resist the urge to press her 
lips to it.

       In fact, she wanted to run her mouth and hands all over Shelley's 
delicious body before getting down to it, but Shelley did not want to wait.  
She squirmed and looked back over her shoulder at Laura.  "Hurry," she 
panted softly, her eyes glazing with the delirium of acute sexual need.  
"Hurry, Laura."

       But Laura was rarely in a hurry, and Shelley knew it.  By her 
seductive pleas she might get Laura to accelerate her attentions a tiny bit, 
and might get Laura to forego for the present her hunger for the rest of her 
body, but Shelley knew that Laura was not a speedy lover, and that she 
especially liked prolonging the arrival of the denouement.

       "All in good time, my pet," Laura purred to her, running her fingers 
over Shelley's taut, swelling bottom, then up her long, sinuous back.

       She bent to kiss it, knowing that this exquisite delay was ramping up 
Shelley's need considerably.  She kissed Shelley's long, smooth back 
everywhere, pausing especially long at her shoulder blades, then her 
delicious dimpled sacrum.  The girl moaned and twisted under her lips, and 
Laura's fingers slid down into the crease between her round buns and into 
the soupy crevice of her aroused pussy.  "Oh, darling, you're so wet for 
Laura," she whispered.

       "Oh yes!  Oh god . . . yes!" Shelley gasped, scrunching her knees 
forward in the sheets to raise her ass a little higher and show her pussy 
even better to Laura.  "Wet wet wet.  Fuck me fuck me," she giggled.  "I'm 
all ready."

       "You sure are, my angel," Laura purred again, now maneuvering her own 
body between Shelley's marvelous dark brown thighs, and guiding the fat 
little black dildo with one hand toward the gooey, shiny, dark-pink target.

       "Ummmmmmm!" Shelley let out a low, semi-guttural hum as the thick 
shaft slid between her well-lubricated pussy lips and into the heaven they 
enclosed.  "Oh Jesus!"

       Laura began to rock her slowly, holding Shelley's hips and thrusting 
forward, then pulling slowly out, enchanted by the exquisite sight of the 
girl's long, svelte body now impaled on the stubby, shiny little black prong 
that protruded obscenely from Laura's groin and was swallowed up by 
Shelley's clinging cunt lips.  For a long, long time she simply rocked 
forward and backward like this, fucking Shelley gently and persistently with 
it, but not hard, or fast.

       And Shelley seemed to be enjoying it even more than Laura had 
expected.  She lay her cheek on the sheet and closed her eyes and moaned 
very softly each time the dildo penetrated her, then sighed and exhaled each 
time Laura pulled it back.

       "Oh god, it's heaven!" she finally gasped, her eyes fluttering open 
long enough for her to glance back over her shoulder again at Laura.

       Their eyes locked, but neither said anything.  Their physical 
connection at this moment was so intense that words were unnecessary.  There 
were no nerve endings of hers in the dildo, Laura knew (duh), and yet it 
felt like an extension of her own body.  She realized this must be what men 
felt when they were inside you, and her closeness to Shelley at this moment 
was very intense, their bodies moving rhythmically in unison, rocking 
slowly, but also slowly building toward a more violent moment.

       Laura could feel the pressure, the sexual dynamic, building.  In 
fact, she realized that they were now pumping and thrusting so vigorously 
that she had to reach down with one hand and hold the dildo to make sure it 
didn't slip out.  It was no more than six inches long, a normal size for a 
penis, even a fake one, she supposed, but now that they were huffing and 
chuffing and fucking more frantically, it was in danger of slipping out at 
any instant.  She held it and rammed Shelley's sweet pussy with it and 
exulted each time the girl yelped and groaned.

       And Shelley did so more and more often, keening, even whinnying 
softly now and then as the sensations got too intense, or too piercingly 
acute.

       "Unnggghh . . . ommngggg . . . nngggeeeehhh!" she cried out softly, 
her cries sometimes swooping up suddenly from her throat, as if pushed 
forcibly out of her lungs by a sharp stab of nearly unbearable pleasure.

       Laura realized that the girl certainly knew what turned her on and 
marveled that she had never mentioned it until now.  Shelley seemed to 
thrill and revel in this method of fucking more than she had ever done in 
any other mode.  She was going mildly but rapidly crazy with sexual delirium 
under Laura, squirming and gasping and mewling as Laura fucked her now more 
relentlessly and energetically, spearing her from behind with the dildo, 
burying it deep in Shelley's tight, clinging pussy, watching the wet black 
shaft go in and come out, loving the way Shelley's black cunt lips clung to 
it as if reluctant to let it go.

       "Oh Jesus . . . oh Jesus . . . oh yes, Laura . . . oh Jesus!  
Ungghhhh!  Do it hard!  Yes!  Hard! Ummnnggghh!  Nngggeeehhh!"

       By now the bed was even rocking a little as Laura lunged forward and 
Shelley shuddered and moaned.  It was a kind of rule of thumb for Laura that 
when the bed began to rock, the orgasm was near.  Shelley was whooping and 
gurgling and gyrating her ass back into Laura's fierce forward thrusts, her 
face torn by sublime intimations of sexual obliteration.

       "Oh god yes!  Oh god yes!" she chanted over and over again, her words 
interrupted only by her frantic panting and soft yelps when Laura pushed the 
strap-on dildo into her pussy as far as it would go.  "Ungghhh!  Ohmmnnggg . 
. . yes!"

       Laura knew the girl was close to coming.  It was probably less than a 
minute away, maybe even seconds, given Shelley's contortions and grimacing 
and wild yelps and whinnying.  Somehow Laura wanted to feel closer to her 
when it arrived, and she leaned forward, pressing her body into Shelley's 
back, pushing her small breasts into it, and releasing the dildo from her 
guiding hand since now it was buried as far in Shelley's body as it would 
go, freeing her arms to encircle the girl from behind.  Her hands found 
Shelley's marvelous, beautiful breasts and squeezed them, and she began to 
fuck her in short, quick, powerful rabbit jabs, sucking the back of her neck 
and pinching Shelley's hard nipples between her fingers at the same time.

       This was truly an assault, a more violent and vigorous mauling than 
she had been giving Shelley up to that point, and Shelley responded by 
undulating wildly under her and crying out with devastating and wanton 
passion.

       "Unnnmmmggghiiieee!  Oh yes . . . oh yes!  Oh Jesus Laura you're 
going to make me come!  Ungghhh!  Oh!"

       "Go ahead, honey," Laura panted to her, still fucking her 
aggressively.  "Go ahead.  Come for me, honey.  Come for me right now."

       Somehow the turbulent violence and sweet, scorching passion of this 
moment made her want to grab a handful of Shelley's hair and jerk her head 
back as the girl came, just to give her the extra stab of fire through her 
body that she knew it would provide.  But because of Shelley's elaborate 
hair style, which clearly depended on extensions that brought the zillions 
of long, thin braids down to her ass, Laura was afraid to try it.  Shelley's 
long braids lay tangled and coiled like beds of writhing snakes all around 
them as they groaned and panted through the last, sizzling moments of this 
scalding union, until Shelley suddenly did begin to come, howling in great 
cries of fierce ecstasy.

       "Auunngghhhh!" she suddenly groaned, and her long, svelte body tried 
to jackknife in a sharp spasm under Laura, but Laura's weight on top of her 
made it impossible.  "Owwnnnggghhhhnnggiieeee!" she cried out again, now 
twisting and squirming under Laura as the jolts of a powerful orgasm 
wrenched her.

       Laura belatedly realized that she was somewhat selfishly smothering 
the full power of this climax by restraining Shelley's natural movements, 
and she quickly raised herself up to give the girl more freedom.  At the 
same time, she renewed her vigorous thrusting, punching the fat little dildo 
into Shelley's spasming pussy again and again, until, miracle of miracles, 
another sharp orgasm welled up out of nowhere and briefly throttled Shelley 
just as the first one was dying away.

       "Ohhnnmmggghhh!  Oh shit!  Oh . . . god, Laura . . . 
unngggnnmmiieeee!  Oh!  Aunngghiiieee!"

       This one was clearly not as powerful as the first, but coming 
directly on its heels it was enough to crush her with bliss.  She grimaced 
and gasped and slumped forward into the twisted sheets.  Laura eased up and 
stroked her lovely bottom with her fingers, waiting for Shelley to recover 
from this sweet turbulence.  Next time, darling, she thought, you should let 
me put it in this pretty ass.  You will come twice as hard.

       But Shelley, when she finally, groggily, lifted her head up off the 
sheet and squinted back over her shoulder happily at Laura, seemed to be 
fully satiated by this thrilling little episode.  She grinned and playfully 
bit her full lower lip with her fine, even white teeth.  "You made me come 
twice," she said in a barely audible voice, as if she could scarcely believe 
it.  "Twice."

       Laura smiled and leaned down to kiss her.  "It's not unheard of," she 
whispered.

       "I know . . . but I never come twice.  Not at the same time.  I mean, 
with you . . . you know," she smiled almost demurely as Laura extracted the 
wet dildo and disencumbered herself of the strap-on harness.  "With you I 
seem to come more than I ever have with anyone else.  One time after you 
were here, I counted them up when you left.  Eight.  I think it was eight.  
God, I've never come eight times in my life, except for that time."

       "Mmmmm, then maybe today we should shoot for nine," Laura laughed 
softly.  "You've already got two in the bank.  That means seven more.  What 
fun for me."

       She stroked Shelley's marvelous body and kissed her shoulder, then 
her neck, then her mouth.  "I think you're behind and have to catch up," 
Shelley murmured against Laura's lips as they kissed.  "Want me to fuck you 
the same way?  God, you can see it really does it for me.  I come so hard 
that way."

       "I guess I wouldn't turn it down, if you're so inclined," Laura 
smiled.

       Later, cuddled in the warm, flickering candlelight, after a 
stupendous orgasm of her own--only one, though, at this moment--Laura cradled 
the sweet girl in her arm and lovingly fondled one of Shelley's gorgeous 
breasts.

       "When Margaret comes back, we won't be able to do this," Shelley said 
sadly.

       "We'll find a way to squeeze it in now and then."

       "She never made me come eight times."

       "That's not the most important thing, is it."  This was not a 
question.

       "No," Shelley agreed.  "I didn't mean to make a big deal out of it 
anyway.  If I come once with her, it's enough.  I love her.  Just like you 
and Makira."

       "Makeeda," Laura smiled.  "Yes.  Like that."

       "Did you ever make her come eight times?"

       Laura frowned.

       "Just asking.  Don't answer, if you don't want to."

       "She comes enough for eight times in just one orgasm," Laura said.  
"It's scary."

       Shelley lay her head on Laura's shoulder, so affectionately that 
Laura did feel a brief heart pang.  They really did get along well and 
seemed to adore each other, in spite of their more important attachments.  
"All this talking is making me horny again," Shelley confessed softly.  "I 
think I'm about ready to have another one myself.  How about you?"

       "I guess I could be talked into it," Laura smiled, rolling on to her 
side and embracing the lovely naked girl with fresh and exuberant lust.













++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Laura story chapters are now available, in both text and html formats, 
on the ASS text archive site at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/laura/www.  Text files may 
also be downloaded via FTP at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/laura.  The 
chapters are now also available in html format at 
http://www.thevalkyrie.com/stories/miranda/index.html.  (C) Copyright Miranda 
Mars, 1999-2007.  It is unlawful to reprint or otherwise distribute this 
material without the written consent of the author.
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