by Miranda Mars
WARNING
This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults ONLY.
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Copyright © 2014 by Miranda Mars
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Please don’t be stupid and kill yourself. This book is a work of FICTION.
Do not try any new sexual practice that you find in this book. It is fiction and not to be confused with reality. Neither the author nor the publisher or its associates assume any responsibility for any loss, injury, death or legal consequences resulting from acting on the contents in this book. Every character in this book is over 18 years of age. The author’s opinions are not to be construed as the opinions of the publisher. The material in this book is for entertainment purposes ONLY. Enjoy.
Laura and Gail Chronicles
A Compilation
Hot Lesbian Erotica
By: Miranda Mars
© Miranda Mars 2014
ISBN: 978-1-62761-912-7
Table of Contents
Laura and Gail Chronicles 1: Gail’s Awakening
Laura and Gail Chronicles 2: My Little Yoga Darling
Laura and Gail Chronicles 3: Play Coquette
Laura and Gail Chronicles 4: We’ll Be Together Again
Laura and Sara Chronicles 5: Don’t Adore Me, Just...
Laura and Sara Chronicles 6: There’s No One But You
Laura and Sara Chronicles 7: And Sheena Makes Three...
Laura and Sara Chronicles 8: Bittersweet Reunion
Returning from lunch, strolling lazily down Market Street toward her office building, Laura paused at a sidewalk vending cart for an ice cream cone. It was a warm day. She had a date after work with Francine Bell and was idly turning over in her mind the way they would probably tear each other apart, it had been so long. She had not seen Frankie since her tryst with Frankie's twin Regina in Denver, and she knew Frankie would want to hear all about it, and would probably be jealous, and competitive. The thought of it made her smile. She'll want to prove she's hotter in bed than Gina. Be still, my heart!
But all thought of Frankie quickly flew out of her mind when she noticed the girl getting an ice cream in front of her. A pretty 'black blonde' girl with a tight little body and a cute face. An adorable butt, long strands of curly dark blond hair, obviously dyed but not coarse or orangeish, as some hair like that often was. Laura frequently found black blondes attractive, though the closest she had come to sharing a bed with one had been the wild bronze panther Kim, who was all-over bronze and burnished gold, with hair to match.
This girl in front of Laura saw her looking, as she must often have seen people looking. “I'm sorry for staring,” Laura said boldly. “You're just so cute.”
“God, I am cute, I know,” the girl sparkled at her. “I try everything I can think of not to be cute, but damn I'm just cute, there's nothing I can do about it.”
“Nothing wrong with being cute.” Laura looked over at the vendor, who was patiently waiting. “Oh . . . I'll have a single scoop of . . . cookies-and-cream.” She looked back at the girl, who was about to walk away. “I'm Laura,” she extended her hand. Anything to keep her there.
“Gail.” Gail took Laura's hand.
Laura held it a little longer than necessary, releasing Gail's hand only when it came time for her to dig in her handbag for some money to pay the vendor. “You work around here?” she asked, while paying him, trying to keep Gail there with her eyes.
“Walgreen's.”
“I was just going that way. I'll walk with you.”
Gail smiled patiently and waited. Laura paid for her ice cream, then joined Gail walking toward Walgreen's, which was actually the opposite of the way she had been going. But who knew? She certainly wasn't going to mention it.
Laura usually fumbled her way through these kinds of conversations, and this one was no different. You couldn't just say, 'God, I would love to fuck you,' to a darling little thing like this, right on the sidewalk in front of Walgreen's. You could let your eyes say it, though. Which was what she did, while prattling about fatuous things like the weather, and how much she loved Gail's hair.
“Do you do it yourself?”
“Oh god, no. I could never do it. I have a girlfriend who does it. For a price.” She made a cute grimace. “Sorry.” She looked at her watch. “I'm almost late. I'm still on probation. Just started two weeks ago. Got to be on time.”
“Of course.” Laura was afraid that her eyes were undressing the darling girl right there on the street. She pulled them back into their sockets. “Maybe I'll see you once in a while . . . like, when I come into the store. Like that.”
Gail beamed at her. “You probably will, if I don't get fired.”
“Go . . . go,” Laura smiled and made a shooing gesture. “Don't get fired because of me.”
Gail smiled over her shoulder as she entered the store, and Laura was afraid she had seen her looking at her butt. A gorgeous tight round butt. Oh dear.
A few days later during her lunch hour she was on her way to meet the rental agent she had promised Frankie she would engage to help Frankie find an apartment in the city when she passed by Walgreen's and couldn't resist the temptation to go inside and flirt for a few moments with Gail.
Or rather, she thought as she entered the store, just smile at her and drink in her cute loveliness. Flirting was too obvious. Gail gave no indication of being interested in girls, and Laura didn't want to embarrass either one of them.
She found her in the rear, stocking shelves of pain relievers, wearing a white smock like a pharmacist, which made her skin look darker than it re
ally was. She was not light-complexioned but also not dark-dark like Frankie, or Dawn, or Dee Dee. She did not notice Laura, who had to tap her on the shoulder.
“You look like a doctor . . . in your white coat,” Laura said softly.
Gail spun around and broke into a smile. “Oh god, you surprised me! Hi, Lana. Lana?”
“Laura.”
“Laura. Sorry. Forgot.”
“Are they turning you into a pharmacist?”
“Only a pharmacist's assistant. It means, if I work out, that they can send me to different stores when they need one there.” She gave Laura a painfully cute squint. “Job security.”
“Can't beat that. I was just passing by. Thought I'd pop in for a quick hello.”
Gail lowered her voice and looked around uncomfortably. “I can't talk to you unless I'm helping you find something.”
“Oh.” Laura acted chastened. “Then . . . help me find some Q-tips. I really need Q-tips. Are they near the cotton balls?”
Gail broke into the cutest, most devastating smile yet. “I think so. Now . . . let's see if I can remember where those are. Follow me.”
The white smock covered Gail's delicious little rump, so that Laura was not tempted to leer at it while following her down the aisle. Around one corner, down another aisle. Then Gail turned and presented Laura with a package of Q-tips.
“Oh gosh,” Laura grinned, “is there anything smaller? I don't think I need five hundred Q-tips.”
Gail looked on the shelf. Meanwhile, Laura luxuriated in scrutinizing her billowy blonde curls and her smooth dark brown neck and cheek and sensual lips. Yum. I could kiss you everywhere, Gail. You are a lot more than cute.
“Here.” Gail gave her a smaller package and took the first one back. “Only twenty-five in that one.” She squinted.
“Why don't I cruise by here when you get off and take you out for a drinkee?” Laura asked, feeling very silly and awkward, especially for having used the word 'drinkee,' which was definitely not part of her usual vocabulary. “Or coffee, if you like.”
Gail gave her a funny look. Laura realized that she was not accustomed to being asked out for a 'drinkee' by another woman. But the pause was very brief. “I have a yoga class after work,” she said. “And I don't drink. But some other time would be okay.”
“Coffee?”
“Don't drink that, either.”
“Goodness. What do you drink?”
“Green tea. Full of anti-oxidants.”
“Oh . . . right.” No wonder you are such a healthy-looking, glowing young creature. I love you already.
“Well then. Yoga, eh?”
Gail nodded. “Tomorrow's good, though.”
Laura had to be jarred by this out of her reverie. She was picturing in her mind Gail in some kind of tight leotard doing a yoga contortion that made her lovely young body strain and twist into infinitely desirable shapes. “Oh. Tomorrow. Shit, I have a dinner meeting tomorrow, right after work. Excuse my French.”
Gail laughed softly. “You're going to get me fired, if we keep this up.”
She glanced at Laura's hand holding the Q-tips, and for the first time seemed to see Laura's gold ring. Her whole face changed, but she said nothing.
“Well . . .” Laura stalled, “maybe some other time soon. We'll find a place that serves green tea.”
“You're married, aren't you.”
“Yes.” Laura blushed, unaccountably.
Gail seemed almost relieved. “Let's make it Friday. I get off at six. What about you?”
Laura nodded. “Six it is. We'll just get an ice cream or something. Like before.”
Back on the street, on her way to the rental agency, Laura couldn't help feeling fluttery butterflies of happiness and sexual anticipation stirring throughout her brain and body. Even though there was no reason to hope. There wasn't the slightest indication that Gail was even likely to tilt in a sexual way toward her. I shouldn't be getting these thoughts, she realized. I'm always jumping the gun like this.
During succeeding weeks she could not resist dropping into Walgreen's now and then to flirt with Gail. Of course, it was 'flirting' only to Laura, not to Gail. Who could say what Gail thought of it, why this thirtyish married woman Laura (three more times Laura had had to correct her from 'Lana' to 'Laura'; that's the kind of impression I've made on her, she thought in waspish self-regard) was always hanging around her with her tongue metaphorically out. Their Friday 'date' to meet and share some green tea or ice cream had fallen through when Gail's boyfriend, who was in college at UCLA, suddenly appeared in town. This really wilted Laura's flower. Her boyfriend, for Christ's sake! Why are you keeping this up, Laura?
Finally Makeeda was off again to appear in clubs in Seattle, Minneapolis, and Atlanta. Laura took a couple days to percolate, but then found herself one evening after work driving Gail home from her yoga class.
“I'm so glad you could do this,” Gail said, about the tenth time she had thanked Laura.
“No problem. I had to work a little late anyway.” It was only seven o'clock. “It's nice to see you.”
There wasn't much of Gail to see, however. The fantasies Laura had indulged in at one time about seeing her in a tight-fitting leotard were crushed. Gail wore simple sweatpants and a loose basketball jersey with a big crimson number '43' on the back.
“Who is forty-three?” Laura asked her as she got into the car.
Gail shrugged. “I haven't the faintest. Some dopey basketball player, I guess.”
“I thought maybe you were a fan.”
“Not me. Jason is a Lakers fan. But I don't think this is a Lakers jersey. Wrong color. Look, I'm so glad you could pick me up. The car I usually borrow from Prentice, one of my roommates, broke down. I think he said water pump or something. Anyway, you're a lifesaver.”
And you haven't yet guessed I'm trying to get into your pants, you cutie? Laura wondered. But maybe not. After all, she had made no obvious moves. I just thought she could see it in my eyes, that's all. That I'm eating her alive with them every second.
Gail lived in the Mission with two other roommates in a three-bedroom flat. Even though there were three bedrooms, Gail slept on a futon in the living room. “That's Prentice's room,” she pointed. “That's Emily's room. And that,” she pointed at the last door down the hallway, “is The Casbah.”
“The what?” Neither of Gail's roommates was there, so Laura felt free to express her shock and amusement.
“The Casbah. Prentice calls it that. He's gay. He brings his boyfriends up here. That room is for . . . you know . . . doing it. Only Emily doesn't use it much. Her boyfriend has an apartment and she mostly stays over there. Especially for sex. Prentice brings his guys up here. I just leave. Or put in my earplugs.”
Laura wanted to ask her, What about you? Do you use The Casbah? You and this guy Jason, for example?
Gail could see the question in her eyes. Can't see I want to fuck her, but can clearly see I think someone else is doing it, Laura reflected acidly. “I've used it a couple of times,” Gail said. “I'm too inhibited, if someone is here. I can't even come when I get all nervous like that. Prentice doesn't even mind. Groaning. Shouting. It's a little uncomfortable. There's a coffee shop with wifi down the street. I just take my laptop and go down there.”
She smiled sweetly at Laura, as if leavening all this sexual talk with a dollop of her incomparable elfish innocence would make things more relaxed. It made Laura want her more than ever.
“Let's go in there,” she said suddenly to Gail, almost surprising even herself. “Nobody's here. Not for sex. Let's just go in there and kiss. I'm dying to kiss you. I've always been dying to kiss you. Let's kiss in The Casbah.”
Gail broke into soft laughter. “You are a lesbian, aren't you. I kind of thought you were.”
Laura could not resist reaching out to caress her cheek with the backs of her knuckles, very tenderly. “Is that so bad?”
Gail continued laughing. “It isn't bad at all. I'm just .
. . not one. You know. I guess you figured that out before now.”
“I sort of guessed.” Laura realized she was threatening a delayed blush. She had not been embarrassed at all about popping the 'kiss' suggestion, but now a huge wave of chagrin was about to wash over her. She lowered her voice, even though there was no one there but the two of them, making it soft and smoky. “Let's do it out here, then. The kiss. It'll only take a moment. Just do it as a favor to me. I love those lips.”
She ran the tip of her forefinger lightly over Gail's very sensual mouth. Gail's dark brown eyes grew soft and glowing. Laura believed she was considering it; weighing the good and bad. She wants to, Laura thought. She wants to give in.