Keywords: FF, cons, interr, rom
Part: Chapter 28
Author: Miranda Mars
Title: Laura's Story - an Interracial Lesbian Romance





          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: 27 - 
    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.

