Laura had not seen Brenda for
years.� Years and
years.� During one lunch hour, she
caught the 8-Market Muni bus to visit a shop on Upper Market St. she had heard
about, and who should be driving it but . . . Brenda.� Both of them were, to put it mildly,
astonished.
"Laura!"
"Brenda?"
Brenda had to wrench her gaze from
Laura back to the traffic, which was, as usual, teetering on the edge of a grand guignol entertainment.� Laura hung on to the chrome bar that
separated the driver from the passengers, bracing herself
for each lurch of the bus as Brenda maneuvered it.� An electric bus; lots of
lurching.� There were no empty
seats nearby, and she realized that there was no way she could just leave it at
a startled greeting.� Not after what
we've done together, she realized.� We
have taken each other to paradise.� True,
it was a long time ago.� But look at her!
One was not accustomed to seeing
gorgeous bus drivers.� They were either
gruff middle-aged men or hugely fat, nasty-tempered black women, but not
this.� Brenda, though wearing an
unflattering brown Muni uniform, dark brown gabardine pants, light brown
starched shirt, with patches and insignias, looked positively luminous.� Or is it me? Laura wondered.� I mean, I have held her close and made her moan
and pant.� Of course she would look
beautiful to me.� She squinted to see if
she could glare through her fog of affection and lust to the Real Brenda.� No, she was real.� It was Brenda, Mavis's sister, and she was
heart-pinch lovely in her drab brown clothes, her black skin glowing and
smooth, her dark eyes flashing, her white teeth glistening, her sensual mouth
expressive and desirable, her shapely black hands
clutching the mammoth steering wheel of the bus as she guided it through the frightening
turmoil of traffic.� I could never do
that, Laura thought with admiration.
"Just . . . stand here for a
minute," Brenda said to her, but not looking at her, eyes still fastened
laser-like on the traffic.� "Somebody'll
get off.� Before long."
Laura did as told, and Brenda was
right.� After about a minute an old,
wizened Chinese woman in the seat by the door got up and painfully, slowly
exited the bus.� Laura took her seat.� She realized these seats were for the elderly
and handicapped, but the bus driver enforced those rules (or didn't), and she
knew she would not be asked to move.� Brenda
beamed over at her, as if she were a long-lost treasure.� It could make you feel good, Laura realized,
beaming back.
"Can't talk right now," Brenda
said, swerving the bus back into traffic.
"That's all right," Laura reassured
her.� "I'm happy to let you keep your
mind on your business."
But neither of them wanted to let
the other go, she could feel that.
Unable to talk to Brenda, she
lapsed into a brief reverie.� She had
finally, at the end of a week, accepted the offer of the job Rhonda had vacated,
and she was still getting used to the idea.�
They had moved her to a new, slightly bigger office, with a corner
window, though not the one Rhonda had occupied; and the window looked out on an
alley.� She fought back a moment of panic
at the thought that Shamika would not be able to find her.� But then she relaxed.� She'll find me, if she wants to.� And Shamika did.� Only two days after their 'algebra' homework
session, Shamika found her new office and dropped in for a few minutes of
electrifying and sexy flirtation.
More troubling than the office,
though, was the fact that they did not fill her old job with a new employee, or
an internal promotion.� Instead, she was
expected to do Rhonda's job and her own old job too; for more money, of course,
but she wondered if it was enough to make the change worth while.� And she did not exactly warm to the task of
supervising about two dozen people, a new experience for her. �Rhonda, being a ice
cold scheming bitch, had not apparently found it difficult, but Laura thought
of herself, true or not, as a friendly, accommodating, gentle, and wry person,
without the nasty streak that was perhaps necessary to succeed as a manager.� She was chewing all this over, staring
vacantly into space, when Brenda's voice broke through her abstraction.
"Excuse me, darlin', but you may
have missed your stop about five minutes ago," Brenda said, raising her voice
to be heard above the traffic commotion and the passenger murmurings.� "We're going left up here to turn around and
sit.� It's the end of the line."
"Oh, shit," Laura said under her
breath.
Brenda broke into a smile.� "Darlin', Mama don't allow no cursing on her
bus."
Looking around her, Laura noticed
that most of the bus was already empty, and the remaining passengers were
filing out the doors.� Her glum
expression made Brenda laugh and slip out of her driver's seat.� She ducked under the chrome bar and came to
sit beside Laura.
"Don't worry, we're going back the
same way in about five minutes," she said, looking at her watch.� "You can catch it on the rebound."
Just seeing Brenda's shapely black hand brought back a flash flood of memories to
Laura.� That hand has been inside my
pussy, she realized.� Plunging in and
out, making me scream and die of hot coming.�
She could feel herself blushing, without warning, and turned her face
away.� Brenda, not entirely grasping the
cause of Laura's hot emotion, put the hand on Laura's knee.
"You don't know how glad I am to
see you," she said softly, privately, though there was only one person left on
the bus, in the rear, evidently someone who had missed her stop just as Laura
had.� "I think of calling you every now
and then, but I lost your phone number."
An obvious fabrication, Laura
thought, since if you really want to find someone, you can.� But, feeling her hot blush recede, she turned
her head back and smiled.� She shrugged.� "We all get busy.� I thought of you, too.� How long have you been driving a bus?"
Somehow it did not comport with her
idea of Brenda.� A few years back, when
they had been fucking, sporadically but intensly, Brenda had been married and living
in a fairly upscale house in the Marina,
elegantly furnished.� Laura would never
forget the round bed, on which they had pleasured one another senseless on many
occasions.� Brenda had driven a snazzy
red Corvette and dressed to the nines.� Not
that you couldn't live like that and still drive a bus for a living, but it
seemed at the very least unusual.
"Oh, about three
years."
"Husband?"
"Long gone.� Remarried.� Lives in Phoenix.� He lost . . . everything we had.� Gambled it away.� Stock market.� Thought he was a stock market wizard.� And a real estate magnate."� Brenda looked off into the distance, though
it was really only the other side of the bus, to somehow conceal or dissipate
the pain in her dark brown eyes.�
"The . . .
house?"
"Oh yeah," she grinned with
bitterness.� "House.
Everything.� You
can't get much in a divorce if there ain't nothing left."
"Where are you living now?"
"I got a little bungalow in the
Ingleside.� You know where that is?"
Laura nodded.� A little neighborhood next
to the Ocean View, where Sara lived.�
She had never been there but knew the location.� "Why bus driver?"
Now Brenda smiled less
ruefully.� "Lots of
things worse than driving a bus, girl.�
It ain't hard.� And the pay is
good.� People get a little annoying from
time to time.� Missing
their stops."� She raised a
satirical eyebrow at Laura.� "Cussing and
fussing.� Old Chinese
ladies trying to get on the bus with their live chickens in a bag.� Stuff like that.� But they ain't gonna fire you.� People still got to get around, and nobody
can afford a car with gas this high."
Laura didn't know whether to bring
up Mavis or not.� But Mavis was the
reason she and Brenda had met in the first place.�
"Mavis is okay?" she asked, gently.
Brenda smiled directly at her,
knowing the history they shared, they all shared.� She had taught her baby sister Mavis to
fist-fuck her when Mavis was only twelve or thirteen, and had continued the
practice, off and on, throughout her marriage, unable like an addict to kick
the habit.� Mavis while still underage
had seduced Laura and immediately had drawn her into fist-fucking too; and the
three of them had even done it all together on one occasion.� It was a thrilling, guilty secret they
shared, and just the briefest mention of Mavis brought it all back to both of
them.
"She moved up to Arcata with a girl
friend of hers.� Jasmine.� White girl.� Works for a dentist up
there.� That's where Humboldt
State is, you know?� Mavis is going to some junior college up
there.� Trying to do pre-nursing, I
think."
And fisting that lucky Jasmine to
heaven day and night?� Does she ever
think of me? Laura wondered, wistfully.�
I think of her.� And I think of
you, her eyes throbbed to Brenda.� Here I
am getting aroused while sitting next to a bus driver, she teased herself.� Of course she happens to be the world's most
gorgeous bus driver.
"I wish we . . . were . . .
somewhere else," she murmured, almost inaudibly, but hoping Brenda heard her.
"Me too."� Brenda's dark eyes also throbbed.� "Why don't you call me and we'll arrange
something."� She glanced down at Laura's
left hand, at the gold ring there.� "Looks like one of us is . . . attached, though."
Laura smiled and nodded.� "She's very understanding.� And out of town."
"She?"
Laura nodded again.�
"I'll be damned," Brenda
beamed.� "Did you snag a sista,
Laura?� I know how you love the dark
meat.� Got yourself
hitched?� I think maybe I ought to try
that since I had no luck with the male of the species."
Laura glowed hotly at her.� "You know they all want to fuck you," she
nearly whispered, though the one woman in the back of the bus was reading her
newspaper.� "You aren't exactly ugly."
"That don't mean I want to get
hitched to one again," Brenda said.� She
raised one pretty eyebrow.� "You want to?� You know . . . do me?"
Laura looked deep into her
eyes.� There were depths in Brenda that
she had never taken the time to explore.�
"You know I do," she breathed softly.
Brenda squirmed.� Clearly Laura's words were having their
effect.� "You busy tonight?"
"I am," Laura said,
a little glum.� She had a date with the
delicious Gail, who would no doubt be wearing her pigtails and inviting Laura
to imagine she was screwing a twelve-year-old, flexing that taut, yoga-tuned
body under Laura's happy thrusting.� "But not tomorrow night."
Brenda shook her head.� "I volunteer at the suicide hotline on
Thursdays.� What about Friday?"
"Suicide hotline?� You talk people out of killing
themselves?� What do you say?"
Brenda gave her a wry grin.� "I say 'Just hang in there, darlin'.� One day someone like Laura gon' come along to
kiss you and fuck you, and all the long wait will have been worth it.'"
Laura blushed and again and
chuckled softly, but this time did not turn her face away.� "Friday.� Give me your number."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
But Gail was not to be ignored or
put aside.� She could be infinitely
exasperating, but also beguiling and so incredibly desirable that Laura might
spend hours just dreaming of her slim, adolescent body, her lovely little
breasts and large dark umber nipples, before they hooked up. �Gail was again apartment sitting for her
roommate Emily's boyfriend, dorko Larry, as Gail called him.� Larry and Emily had gone to Seattle
to meet Larry's parents.
"I think she wants to marry the
dork," Gail commented sarcastically as she let Laura in the door.� "Then they'll move in here and I'll have to
find someone else to share the Mission District place to make that horrible
Prentice tolerable.� You don't know how
hard it is to find decent roommates," she lamented, a complaint she had made to
Laura before.
"Why don't you move into a little
cheap studio apartment by yourself?� Then
I could visit whenever we want."
Gail pursed her sensual lips and
made one of her adorable 'cute' faces.�
She was incontestably cute, no getting around it.� Laura felt like a child molester whenever
they were naked together, which was curiously both alarming and arousing,
though Gail was actually twenty-two and only looked like jail bait.� "Little cheap studios, even if I could find
one, cost more than I can afford.� The place
in the Mission is
rent-controlled.� Prentice has lived
there for just about ever."� She
shrugged, adorably.� "I guess we'll be
fucking in his fucking Casbah again before long."
Laura drew her close.� Gail was wearing a white tee shirt and blue jeans
and had her enormous pigtails of curly blond hair jutting out from each side of
her head.� You could see outlines of her
black bra through her white tee shirt.� She
didn't look thirteen, this time; more like fourteen.� Laura brushed her lips against the girl's
smooth, dark brown cheek.� "I would fly
to the moon to fuck you," she murmured.
Gail crinkled her nose.� "You always know how to make me wet," she
murmured back.� "I did something to make
you jealous, though," she said with a careless toss of her head, swishing her
pigtails, pulling away a little.
"You did?� What would that be?"
"I went to bed with one of those
women who are always following me around Walgreen's."
Laura felt a hot blush�this time of
anger�trying to surface, but she fought it back.� "You did.�
Well.� So.� And how was that experience?"
She could hear herself being
clipped and curt and wounded somehow and knew Gail was hearing the same
thing.� And from the flashing, amused
look in Gail's dark, dancing eyes, she knew that this
was exactly what Gail had been hoping for.�
She hated herself for making it so easy.
A sly curl curved Gail's fetching
mouth.� "Her name is Moira.� She's kind of an old goth,
if you know what I mean.� Black clothes.� Too much eye shadow.� Long nails.� She kind of looks like a witch, or like that spooky Elvira.� You know her, that creepy Elvira?"
"Sounds like a charming person to .
. ."� Give your sweet little body to! Laura wanted to yell but stopped
herself.� ��". . . to spend your
time with."� Suddenly restless, she
walked over to the window looking out on Balboa street, examining the traffic
and the buses, and the few pedestrians.�
Why should I care who she goes to bed with? she
wondered.� A goth?� Elvira?�
I must seem depressingly and drearily normal to her.
"She does yoga too, like me.� Only she does some weird offshoot called
Kundalini yoga.� I think it's some kind
of sex thing.� Yoga with sex mixed
in.� You're supposed to be able to have
wild orgasms with it.� But it takes
incredible discipline and dedication."�
She sighed, airily.� "I think I
just don't have the energy for it right now."�
She paused, looking slyly over at Laura by the window.� "She did this incredible thing, though.� She made me almost come about a zillion
times, but then wouldn't let me.� And
when I finally did . . ."
Laura turned toward her
suddenly.� "Don't tell me!� I don't want to hear it."
Gail looked genuinely shocked.� Even chagrined.� "Oh god, I shouldn't have said that, should
I?� I'm sorry.� You're jealous."
Laura shook her head.� "No.�
I'm not."
"Yes you are."� Gail smiled.�
She came across the room to Laura.�
"I didn't mean to make you jealous."
Laura grinned.� "The hell you didn't.� You just said you did"
Gail pushed up against her, as if
the touch of her body would be enough to melt Laura's distress and
tension.� "She's older than you," she
breathed, so close that Laura could feel her breath on her face.� "Way older.�
And not beautiful like you, either."
"Well.� Thank the cruel universe for small favors,"
Laura said sarcastically.� Sounds a
little like self-pity, Laura, she told herself.
Gail rose on her tiptoes and kissed
Laura's jaw clumsily.� "I really have
better orgasms with you," she whispered.�
"I mean it."
"It's not my concern who you go to
bed with," Laura said coldly.� "At least
you and Elvira have something in common."
Gail looked puzzled.� Then, a flash of
recognition.� "Oh.� You mean yoga."� She tried to kiss Laura again, but Laura
turned her head away, being, she told herself, a real petulant bitch and baby.� "I could teach you some," Gail added.
"Yoga?� I'd probably throw my back out and spend the
rest of the week in the hospital."
Gail decided to employ another
tack.� She moved away from Laura, perhaps
tacitly admitting that she had made a mistake in bringing up a potential
rival.� "I know you've been going through
a lot of shit at work," she said softly.�
"How's it going?� Did they offer
you that job you were worried about?"
Laura nodded, softening.� She now began wondering how much of this
little contretemps was her fault, not Gail's.�
She hardly needed to be so edgy about Gail's love life.� Good for Gail, finding love where it was
available.� She should actually be
pleading to hear more racy details, instead of bristling and sniping.
"They did, and I took it."
"Good!" Gail burst out, happy for
Laura.� "Now you're a big shot.� Do you make a lot of money?"
"A little more.� I don't know if it's good, though.� I still have to do my old job.� I think they might be taking advantage of
me."
Gail re-approached her, apparently
now figuring she had done enough to placate Laura's jealousy by expressing
interest in her career.� "Of course they
are," she murmured, again rising on her tiptoes to brush her lips against
Laura's cheek.� "They're capitalist
shits.� What do you expect?"� She brought her lips around to Laura's and
brushed those, her eyelids growing heavy.�
"Did you bring that gigantic strap-on dick with you that you fucked me
with last time?� I hope so."
Gail did not wear perfume, of any
sort.� She was sharply oriented in the
direction of the pure and natural, and would do nothing to mar the raw pristine
purity of her splendid young body.�
Therefore when she came close the scent of her was completely her own,
sweet and healthy and sometimes redolent of sexual notes and highlights, like a
fine young wine, maybe a Beaujolais
nouveau that would trickle down your throat and give you an earthy,
unexpected orgasm of taste and aroma.� Laura,
in any case, found it thrilling and arousing, so much so that she nearly lost
track of what they were gently sparring about.
"God, you smell good," she said.
Gail smiled warmly.� "All for you.� Nothing here but me."� She up-tilted her luscious mouth, bringing it
within an inch of Laura's again.� "Just
waiting to be railed and ravished."
Oh you sweet thing!� How could I have been so lucky as to find
you? Laura exclaimed to herself, as she yielded easily to the temptation and
encircled Gail with her arms, crushing her mouth down into the offered lips.� She stabbed her tongue in deep, past Gail's
open teeth, trying to tickle the bottom of her throat.� Her hands clutched Gail's hard round little
buns and she dug her fingers into them.�
"I want to fuck you so much," she panted into Gail's open mouth.
"Good, 'cause I sure want you to,"
Gail panted back.� "C'mon, let's go into
the bedroom."
She began peeling off her white tee
shirt as she walked, but Laura quickly grabbed her from behind and stopped
her.� "I want to undress you."
Gail smiled back over her
shoulder.� "Nasty old
lecher.� I'm only twelve."
"Let's not start that again," Laura
warned her, but playfully.
"You know you love it."� Gail literally flounced into bedroom,
presumably dorko Larry's bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed, swishing her
pigtails dramatically.� "You want to fuck
a little girl."
"No, I want to fuck this little girl."� Laura sat next to her and pulled the tee
shirt up over her head, stuffing each pigtail through the neck hole to get the
shirt off.� "Take these down.� I'm not really a pervert."
"Oh yes you are!" Gail
giggled.� "I'm not taking them down until
after you fuck me once.� It's fun to
pretend."
It certainly was fun to be next to
darling Gail's half-naked body, Laura knew.�
She reached out for her.� "Come to
Mama."
"See?� You do
like me to be a little girl!� You even
want to be my mama.� Believe me, she would cut out your liver with a butcher knife, if
she could see what you're doing.�� And
mine right after, for letting you do it."
Laura was kissing her smooth bare
dark brown skin everywhere, throbbing and sizzling with lust.� She knew she enjoyed a tantalizing girl like
Gail with her bra on and also with it off.�
With it still on, she could kiss all the lovely exposed parts of her
upper body without going directly for her lovely little breasts.� With it off, well, there was nothing that
could keep her from trying to swallow them.�
Monstrously oral as usual, she would siphon up the lovely little balls,
devouring the enchanting large dark umber nipples, until Gail was whooping and
writhing and gurgling with eager passion.
Laura hugged her close and
unfastened the clasp of the black bra while she was kissing her neck, her
collar bones, her delicious throat, her shoulders; then peeled the garment away
from her body, exposing the luscious little globes.� "Gail . . . you have the prettiest breasts,"
she murmured as she filled her hands with them.
Gail said nothing but looked down
at Laura's pale fingers squeezing and kneading the dark, springy flesh.� "I wish they were bigger," she finally said,
softly.
"No, you don't," Laura smiled.� "Because then I couldn't get one completely
into my mouth."
Gail smiled back.� "But you can.�
I've seen you."
"Like this?"
Laura shifted one hand so that she
was cradling one small breast in both hands now.� She licked and tongue-teased Gail's large,
swelling, dark nipple before drawing it slowly between her lips.� She did not stop sucking until nearly all of Gail's breast was inside her mouth.� Of course, she had been slightly inaccurate:
she could really not get the whole thing into her mouth, but most of it,
yes.� She could feel Gail's thick, hardening
nipple nudging the back of her throat.�
She sucked hard, and both of them quivered and mewled a little.
"Mnnnggeee!"
Gail wailed happily.� "Oh shit!� Do it hard.�
Bite it."
Laura pushed her down onto her back
on the sheet, feasting on her young breasts, first one, then
sucking the other nearly down her throat too.�
Gail was still wearing her jeans, and Laura�everything.� She squirmed to get out of her clothes but
could not relinquish her mouth's hold on Gail's lovely little saliva-wet
breasts, which she continued to maul passionately.� Gail moaned and twisted.� She held Laura's head, watching everything,
watching one wet breast slip from Laura's mouth while Laura hungrily assaulted
the other one, lashing Gail's erect nipple with her tongue, pinching it with
her lips, then sucking it deep, pulling Gail's breast away from her body in the
urge to get it all into her mouth.
"Unngggunnnggg!"
Gail gurgled, twisting excitedly.� "God .
. . Laura . . . yes . . . here, get out of these . . . here, let
me help . . ."
Together they frantically shed all
their clothes.� Laura helped Gail skim
the tight jeans down her hard brown thighs, unable to keep her mouth off those
either, then pulling Gail's pale green panties down roughly.� Gail nearly ripped Laura's blouse trying to
get it off.� Her fingers clawed at Laura
bra straps.� Laura wriggled out of her
skirt, and skimmed off her panties, clumsily pushing and tossing her garments
to the side and rubbing her naked skin everywhere against Gail's smooth warm body,
feeling Gail eagerly do the same to hers.�
"Now you can fuck me," Gail panted
softly, pulling Laura as close as she could, kissing her.� "Suck my titties again . . . and fuck
me.� Hurry."
This was not going to be, it dawned
on Laura, one of those slow, sensual, simmering, interminably building sexual
encounters.� It was going to be a quick,
urgent, throbbing, surging collision of two hungry bodies, who
were already devouring one another with wanton need.� She had been hungry for Gail's flesh from the
very beginning, but she didn't recall having been so consumed by the need to
inhale the girl.� And Gail seemed equally
hungry.
"God, Laura, fuck me!" she
gasped.� "Don't kiss my pussy or
anything.� I think I can come so fast if
you fuck me."
This was a revelation, if true,
since Gail was one of those girls who frequently had a slow, difficult time
getting to the finish line, who could come in some positions and not others, who
had to concentrate, to feel her body responding each step of the way, until she
could finally pull the trigger.� In
Laura's limited experience with her, it was rare for her to come quickly.� But right now she seemed totally convinced
that an explosive orgasm was only seconds away.
Gail, when fucking with the horrid
Moira/Elvira, might have loved in retrospect the way the ingenious 'goth' had
brought her repeatedly to the brink, forcibly postponing Gail's climax so long
that the tension was excruciating before delivering the coup de grace, but
right now she wanted to be ripped, wracked, impaled, and destroyed in a blazing
fury of coming by Laura.� Railed, as she had so
charmingly put it, moments earlier.�
Laura had to scramble to get the
strap-on dildo out of her handbag and into place.� While she was slipping the harness on and
adjusting the straps, Gail stared in fascination at the bobbing shaft.
"Shit, it's even bigger than I
remembered," she said in awe.
True, it was bigger than the one
Laura had used on her before, but not bigger than Prentice's dildo they had
used in the Casbah, the first time.� This
one was a full eight inches long, as opposed to the seven-inch one Laura had
brought along before.� (Prentice's, she
reasoned backwards, must've been a nine or ten incher.)
"I'll be gentle," she assured Gail,
whose mouth was still open in shock.
"I don't want you to be gentle,"
Gail said.
Now the apparatus was completely in
place and secure, and Gail was running one forefinger up and down the rippled
shaft that would in seconds be embedded in her tight little pussy.� "You want to kiss it?" Laura teased her.
"No.� I want to feel it."� Gail's dark eyes were smoking.�
She lay back on the sheet,
spreading her hard young thighs to expose her inflamed black-edged pussy, all
fiery hot pink and glistening inside, a long gash below a tight black little
puff of pubic hair.� Laura did want to
kiss it.� She wanted to do more than kiss
it, she wanted to rape it with her tongue, and her fingers, and finally invade
Gail's tiny pinched tight asshole with her finger.� But all this she had been warned
against.� Gail wanted to be fucked, hard
and now.� No detours.
Laura guided the knobby head of the
dildo into the oozing, inflamed crease of Gail's open pussy and slid it in
deep, unable to keep her eyes off the girl's pretty face and huge pigtails,
which never failed to make her feel slightly criminal at possessing this
delightful young creature.� She's
twenty-two, she reminded herself, over and over.� She's not thirteen, she's twenty-two.
But it didn't take long for all
this to disappear in a gathering maelstrom of seething lust.� Though she had been calmly appraising the
large dildo moments earlier, Gail now quickly transitioned again into a tornado
of urgent lust, churning and pumping under Laura, and whimpering and mewling
uncontrollably.
"Mnnneeee . . . oh yes . . .
yes!� Ungghh!� Ungghh!�
Yes . . . Laura!� Oh . . . so
deep!� Ungghhmmnngeee!� So deep!�
Yes . . . like that!� Just . . .
like . . . that!� Unnggmmnn!� Owwnnggg!"
Laura was afraid she had hurt
her.� She was recklessly plunging the huge
thing into Gail's tight young pussy, plundering it precisely the way Gail had
said, and continued to say, she wanted it.�
And yet Gail winced and yelped and emitted keening cries of sexual
torment, all the while urging Laura on and on.�
She was wilder than Laura had ever seen her, writhing and churning and
yelping and jamming her pelvis up into Laura's, as if she were trying to make
the cock go even deeper into her body. �Was this New Gail the result of her having
fucked with the horrid Moira?
"Unh!� Ungghhh!�
Ohnngg!� Unggghhh!"
And Laura, for her part, was amazed
at her own reaction.� Usually she was
totally focused on the business at hand: bringing the most intense sexual
experience and climax possible to the darling creature in her arms.� But a swirl of wild images now seemed to be
teeming through her brain as she fucked the twisting, yelping girl under her.� It started with thoughts of the cute Gail
when they had first met, at the ice cream stand, and then their first kiss in
The Casbah, when Gail was so flirtatious and coy, and then their first fuck, a
far cry from this gasping, surging, wailing collision of bodies.� And then abruptly images of Gail in her
reeling mind were replaced by images of Brenda, as if instead of fucking the
darling Gail she were fucking Brenda in this white hot frenzy of passion.� When she opened her eyes, it was Brenda's
face she saw, not Gail's, and when she felt every inch of her naked body glued
to the writhing flesh of the girl underneath her, it was Brenda's far more
voluptuous body she felt, not Gail's hard, petite adolescent form.� This all happened in a flash, but Laura
rarely if ever thought of a woman other than the one she was fucking right in
the middle of the act, and it was vaguely troubling to
her.
She had not had sex with Brenda for
years.� How could this be happening?
Nevertheless, Gail's wild sexual
excitement quickly brought her back to reality.�
"Oh shit, Laura, yes, now now!"
That would get anyone's
attention.� Gail's fingers were clawing
at Laura's arms, and her strong young body was arching, and gyrating
wildly.� It was a very desirable body to
Laura, who now blessedly forgot or was completely flushed of all images or
memories or fantasies of Brenda and returned to the excruciating and
pleasurable moment in which the writhing Gail was about to have her climax.
"Yes . . . honey . . . yes!" she
panted to Gail, enfolding her even more tightly in her arms and thrusting rapidly,
feeling Gail's marvelous lean body flex and shudder sharply, then erupt in
frantic spasms.
"Annnmmmgghiieee!"
Gail cried out, very loud, very piercing.�
She clung to Laura, her face contorted with what almost amounted to
horror at the fierce shock of her orgasm, but then quickly overspread with a
sublime smile of ecstasy.� "Ommwwmmggg!� Oh Jesus
oh shit oh shit oh god ohhhhhhhh!�
Ummngghiiieeee!" she squealed again, her body now undulating instead of
jerking and flipping, the long undulations rolling through her quivering flesh
like shockwaves, her yelps and squeals melting into moans of bliss as Laura
held her and kissed her.
The violence of this orgasm stunned
them both, and they lay panting and softly wheezing together for several
minutes, though soon after the initial jolts Laura eased over onto her side so
as not to crush Gail by her weight.� The
huge, wet dildo popped out of Gail's tight, clinging
little pussy at that moment, and Laura was careful not to let the clammy shaft
brush Gail's still slightly twitching thigh.�
She held her gingerly until their breathing returned to normal.
Gail blinked at her.� "Bet you didn't think I could ever come that
fast, right?"
Gail was alluding to what both of
them knew.� It usually took her a while
to get to the pinnacle, a journey Laura was never reluctant to make, since it
involved lots of kissing her delicious young body and stroking it
everywhere.� I could do that for hours,
she thought.� You can take as long as you
like.� Longer, even.� Better for me.
"Too fast," Laura murmured, kissing her sweaty neck, licking the
salt.� "I wanted more."
"Don't worry," Gail sparkled,
exhilarated, apparently, after her powerful orgasm.� She reached down and touched the wet dildo,
without making a face.� "Now it's your
turn.� I get to be on top."
Laura obligingly unfastened the
strap-on harness and helped Gail into it, unable to keep her mouth from chasing
the girl's marvelous dark nipples as Gail's small breasts danced around in
front of her face.
"Stop that!" Gail laughed,
playfully slapping her face away from them.
"I want your nipples," Laura
panted.� "I want them in my mouth."
"You'll just have to wait."� Gail was taking down her pigtails now,
unwinding the fasteners, tossing her head to loosen her thick hair, which made
her lovely young breasts bounce and dance even more than before.� "You are a lecher.� You just want me for my skinny little body."
They settled into a slow,
delightful rhythm with Gail on top, as promised, and unfortunately for Laura,
who also wanted this to last, she came in about a minute, so aroused was she by
Gail's own earlier tempestuous orgasm, but also by merely looking up at Gail
while Gail was fucking her with the strap-on dildo, an experience she thought
she would never forget.� Their eyes
locked, and with her hair down it was clear that Gail was no thirteen-year-old,
but a fully grown sensual woman of thrilling sexual instincts who just through
the promise in her throbbing dark eyes could make another grown woman, Laura,
quake and shudder in excruciating convulsions of pleasure in only minutes.
Afterward, they lay together
without speaking, and in about twenty minutes or so began to hear the soft,
distant moans and deep diaphone belching of the foghorns out by the Golden
Gate, which had so thrilled Gail the first time they had been
together in this apartment.� It made them
snuggle even more closely, pressing their naked bodies
hard against each other.�
"Mmmmmm," Gail hummed drowsily,
pushing her face into Laura's neck.� "Are
we going to fuck again?� I think I'm
hungry.� I mean for food."
"Mmmmm," Laura hummed back.� "Hungry for you."
Gail kissed her on the nose.� "You know I broke up with my boyfriend," she
said softly, even a little pensively.�
"He goes to UCLA anyway, so he's never up here.� And . . . well, I hope you won't be shocked,
but I'm falling in love with you."
Laura clenched inside.� "Darling, you mustn't do that," she said, but
very calmly.� "I'm married."
"I know."
"And . . . well, what about Moira,
for instance?"
"I don't love Moira.� I love you."
Oh god, Laura thought.� As if I didn't have enough troubles.� "Let's talk about it later, okay?� Right now maybe we better get something to eat.� I'm hungry too."
"I don't expect you to love me
back," Gail said sensibly and bluntly.
Laura kissed her shiny
forehead.� "I adore you, my sweet.� We'll talk about it later, promise."
"Okay.� But you can't talk me out of it."
"Then I won't try."� But I really will, she thought. She loves
me.� Oh god.
�
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