by Miranda Mars
"You just want to kill me, that's all," Sara said, briefly crossing her eyes in a face reminiscent of some of her funniest ones, but this time weary and completely destroyed by sexual pleasure.
"I just want to hold you and love you, that's all," Laura whispered.
She could see Sara's eyelids already growing heavy, see her drifting toward slumber more quickly than either of them were prepared for.
"You knocked me out," Sara murmured drowsily. "I'm . . . fading."
"I'll wake you in time for work," Laura whispered.
Mercifully, the music downstairs had ceased. It was getting later, and the party appeared to be breaking up. Laura could hear people's voices on the sidewalk outside. Sara nodded absently, almost asleep already, to Laura's remark. Seconds later, she was out.
Laura pulled the sheet and blanket up over both of them and kissed Sara's forehead, watching her in the faint light from the street a long time before lying back to sleep herself.
* * * *
"Mmnngggg . . . oh god, yes! Just that way! Unngghh!" Sara groaned.
She was on top with her palms planted on the mattress on either side of Laura's head, her own head thrown back, eyes shut, lips parted, her breath hard and quick, her moans long and laced with fierce sensual pleasure. Laura, on her back, held the strap-on dildo secure with one hand and with the other eagerly fondled Sara's magnificent dangling breasts, first guiding one swollen, glimmering dark nipple into her mouth, sucking and mauling it hungrily, then switching to the other and doing the same.
They had already been at it for five minutes or so and were still in no hurry, having sunk into a slow, smoldering, sensitive rhythm that gave each of them the deep, lasting pleasure they wanted out of this moment. It was late on Saturday night, and they had already been fucking off and on since Friday evening.
By Saturday night they were usually so exhausted that they often just curled up in each other's arms and fell asleep. The difference this time was that while they were out, eating dinner, going to a movie, Sara had fallen into a pensive mood and actually brought up a subject they usually avoided.
Laura had a lot of time to reflect on it while she slowly and sensually sucked Sara's gorgeous large wet nipples. If I had nipples like these, I would be home sucking them myself all the time, she thought.
As they were leaving the movie theater, Sara had casually asked, though clearly she had been pondering the subject, "Do you ever wish that we could see each other more often?"
This was not an unusual question for Laura, since she often felt a desperate need to see Sara during the week, when they had a tacit agreement to let each other alone. On the other hand, when she was not desperately longing for Sara she was instead in bed fucking like a gluttonous little pig with Amber, or Dawn, or somebody else. This contradiction worried her, but she was also unable to ignore her true feelings, and she blurted out, "God, yes, sometimes I die to see you before Friday."
Their eyes caught, right there on the sidewalk, and a crackling electrical current passed between them. Laura's mind raced back through the sex they had had since the preceding evening and realized they had both had about six or seven orgasms apiece and should feel satisfied. But clearly they were about to tear each other's clothes off right there in front of the movie theater.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Sara grinned.
"I think I am."
Sara made a seriously hilarious face. "I didn't mean it that way, you know," she said, crossing her eyes, "but somehow I think I mean it now. Let's go home and--"
Laura cut her off, almost crumpled up with laughter at the face. "Don't say it. I don't want you saying to me in advance what I'm going to do to you." She grabbed Sara's hand and playfully dragged her toward the corner. "I'm going to devour you."
"You're a sex fiend," Sara giggled as they got inside the door of her apartment, where they were staying this weekend.
Laura was already undressing her. "That's exactly what I am, and you're going to get the worst I have to offer, darling."
"Or the best?"
On the bed in Sara's bedroom was the strap-on dildo, which Laura had brought with her and which they had fully intended to use but had not got around to yet. Sara pointed to it.
"I want that. I want you to lay on your back and let me be on top for once."
"You want to fuck me?" Laura asked demurely, putting her fingers to her throat. "Poor little me?"
Sara made another face, though it was not as hysterically funny as the one she had made in front of the movie theater. "No, I want you to wear it but let me be on top. Get it, dodo?"
And that was how they had arrived at this position. As neither one was in any rush, they had been panting and grinding like this for a long time. Laura knew from experience that Sara came easily when she was on top like this, dildo or no dildo, and so she must either be somewhat sexually desensitized from all their earlier fucking or she was exerting phenomenal self-control to delay her certain orgasm.
They were also so connected emotionally at the moment that Laura could feel the love flowing through their flesh, knitting them together, like a low-level magnetic current. Occasionally she felt this suspension of time, especially with Sara, as if they were immersed in a singular dimension where nothing existed but their bodies rubbing in rhythm and their minds singing together in the ecstasy of having each other.
"Unhhh . . . unhhhh!" Sara panted softly, gnawing her full lower lip now, slowly pulling her groin up so that the wet shaft slid out of it, then slowly lowering her pelvis again so that it rode back up deep into her clasping pussy.
Laura knew that this was the way to make your pussy feel each ridge on the dildo as it slid across the wet, sensitive inner flesh of your slit. She knew it could drive you wild, as it was doing to Sara, and yet Sara still didn't accelerate her movement, still kept iron control over her need to go frenzied with sexual gyrations. Laura watched her, rapt with fascination, holding Sara's saliva-wet, dangling breasts in her hands, sucking her big glossy nipples from time to time and wondering how long it would be before Sara simply gave in and came in a killing, wrenching finish.
She knew it couldn't be long. Sara was controlling it very well, but her breathing was getting harsher, and her soft little grunts and groans more helpless.
"Unh! Unh!" she gasped, her eyes finally fluttering open.
There was a desperate glint in her eye, the kind you got just before you erupted in a hot seizure of coming, and she looked down at Laura's lips on one of her swollen, wet nipples, now not so black as in some light, but more burnt umber and covered with small bumps. Laura saw her looking and purposely sucked the large wet bulb hard, sucking the whole thing and part of Sara's breast too into her mouth.
"Unnhhh . . . oh god!" Sara gasped, throwing her head back again.
She held her breast in one hand and pushed it into Laura's face, now moving her undulating hips more forcefully, fucking herself more rapidly on the dildo.
"Unhhh . . . unhhhh!"
"Honey, you're going to come," Laura said softly, releasing the bulbous, shiny, wet nipple.
"Unnnhh . . . unhhhh . . ." Sara nodded, now slumping forward so that her face came close to Laura's, reaching Laura's ear with her lips, breathing warm, rapid breath and chanting into Laura's ear at the same time. "I love you, Laura. God, I've never loved you so much as I do tonight! Unnhhh! Ohnnnn! I . . . just love you. I can't help it."
"I love you too, Sara," Laura whispered back, looking up at her almost worshipfully, bursting with love.
Usually it was Laura who could not control the impulse to blurt out her fierce, undying love for Sara. At first she had often done it at inappropriate moments: eating out together, walking along the street, talking on the phone. When she finally got control of this, she still could not stop herself from whimpering it during sex, almost constantly. Sara's only response to this, from time to time, was the wry and caustic: "Don't adore me, just fuck me, darling."
Sara was much more restra
ined and rarely blurted it out uncontrollably, as she was doing now. And yet Laura well knew there were times when you just had to. Holding it in could only work so long, and her own heart flooded with happiness as she felt Sara yielding to this need to let it out. She was so touched by it that she could feel a future orgasm awakening in her own body now, a distant swelling and throbbing, which had not been there before, so intent had she been on her task of being the cherished one on whom this delightful and passionate woman was bringing herself to a crushing bliss.
Sara never recovered from this moment. No sooner had she confessed this to Laura than her body gave a violent shudder, and a sexual climax of huge dimensions began to rock her. This one seemed to rip and rend her down to her toes.
"Ahhnnggnnieeee . . . ahhnnggnnieeee . . . ahhnnggnnieeee . . . " she whinnied hysterically into Laura's ear, her spastic fingers clutching Laura's flesh frantically, her pelvis twitching, still plunging up and down on the dildo that Laura held valiantly steady with one hand. "Ahhnnggnnieeee . . . ahhnnggnnieeee . . . ahhnnggnnieeee . . . "
Laura held her, Laura kissed her, Laura murmured to her, Laura undulated her own body under Sara's surging flesh to match each convulsion, feeling a kind of bliss of her own that even her strong love for Sara had never matched before. When the worst spasms had ripped through Sara, she began to quiver and twitch and coo, and Laura clasped her tightly, rolling her to the side and caressing her flesh and murmuring to her still, now kissing her face, though not her mouth since Sara was still panting, her breath ragged and labored.
In all their time together, Laura had never seen her come this hard or this long. Even after her climax had clearly waned, Sara did not open her eyes and was still breathing rapidly. She clung tightly to Laura. When she did finally open them, she was completely clear-eyed and sane and spoke quietly, her dark brown eyes big and shiny.
"Sometimes I wish I had never met you because you make me love you so much," she said softly.
Laura, feeling a definite role switch, temporary though it might be, chucked her under the chin with two fingers. "Does this mean I can adore you now instead of just . . . you know?"
Sara broke into a grin that communicated not only her acknowledgment of what Laura was saying but also the resonance of the ferocious, body shattering orgasm she had just experienced. "I . . . guess I can't stop you now, can I."
Laura finally and carefully extracted the ribbed dildo from Sara's pussy. She slipped out of the harness. "I want to adore you while you fuck me senseless," she purred. "I'm very envious."
Sara smiled calmly and reached out for Laura again, pulling her closer, so that their naked breasts mashed happily together again and their mouths could easily touch. "Give me a few minutes, okay?" she asked, almost shyly. "I've never loved anyone like this. It . . . takes a lot out of me." An unexpected tear began to roll down one of her dark brown cheeks. "I don't know what happened. I just . . . all of a sudden, I felt this horrible, wrenching love for you. I still feel it. I don't know what came over me."
Laura kissed the tear to stop it, and continued kissing the smooth cheek, then Sara's soft, pillowy lips. "I don't know why either. But I couldn't be happier," she murmured.
They kissed and whispered and dozed this way for another half hour before Sara's physical and emotional energies began to revive. Finally, Laura got her way. Insisting that they follow the same script, she mounted Sara in the same way Sara had earlier mounted her, and they again took the slow ascent to the top, their eyes locked together, their bodies smoldering with even more love this time, since it had been so freely and helplessly confessed. When Laura finally came it was like the end of the world.
This weekend, she knew, and Sara knew, had all the signs of a milestone in their relationship. They had been in love for months and thoroughly enjoyed each other's company every weekend, but this last Saturday night had unaccountably overwhelmed them both with an intensity of physical and emotional passion neither had anticipated. On Sunday evening they were reluctant to part, clinging to each other with almost embarrassing fervor.
And even though they had confessed to one another their need to see each other more often, they were both somehow spooked by this strong outpouring of emotion that had taken them both by surprise, and they actually took precautions to avoid each other, both of them needing some time to digest their feelings and come to terms with Saturday night. For Laura in addition there was frank puzzlement, which she took pains not to show, over Sara's feelings about the Dee Dee incident. After all, I fucked her sister. How could she forgive me for that? I apologized . . . I groveled . . . I was sincere, I felt like killing myself over it. But could she really forget? And now, this outpouring of love! God, I'm so happy for it, but how could it be possible?
To be continued...
Something was wrong between her and Makeeda, and Laura didn't know what it was. Since these were still the beginnings of their relationship, and their love was fresh and still blooming, she was made very anxious by this strange distance she felt growing up between them. She had been forced to take a week-long trip to Dallas, to troubleshoot some problems in her company's office there, and when it came time to return home she almost didn't want to go back.
Her fear of returning was due to her certainty that she would now come face to face again with Makeeda, and whatever was causing this vague anxiety and dread would finally be made plain. Makeeda had somehow mysteriously changed between the time she had left Laura the song on her voice mail and her return from her club engagement in L.A. Laura had been happily in love, and then had been plunged into the deepest misery and pain by Makeeda's evasive ambivalence.
She still did not know what was going on, and she flew home full of trepidation at the thought that she would now find out. It did not, somehow, help that there was a message from Makeeda on her voice mail, though ordinarily she would have died with happiness to discover one.
"Laura. It's me. Call me when you get in. You have to call before Sunday morning, 7 a.m. After that . . . too late. Call me."
It was a very brusque and emotionless message, just the kind Laura dreaded, and it made her heart fall even farther. Furthermore, this warning that she must call before Sunday morning or it would be 'too late' filled her with alarm. What could that mean? Too late? Was it over between them? How could it be over when they had barely started? She knew Makeeda felt about her the same way that . . .
Or did she? Oh god. Laura was afraid even to pick up the phone.
She had a drink to calm herself, and paced her condo from front to back many times. God, I love her! she realized. How can she be so cold? How can I call her without breaking into tears? But she realized she had to get it over with. After fifteen minutes of pacing, she steeled herself for the worst and went to the phone, standing instead of sitting so she would at least feel agile and ready to dodge the hardest blow.
She realized halfway through dialing that she would probably have to leave a message too, since it was already Saturday evening and Makeeda would be at work. But to her surprise, Makeeda answered.
"Oh hi, Laura. I'm glad you could call before tomorrow morning." So cold.
"I thought you might be at work. I . . . missed you."
Makeeda let that go by. "How was Dallas?"
"Oh . . . just work work work. I . . . thought about you the entire time."
"You didn't call." Makeeda's voice was not accusatory, only factual. "You said you were going to call."
"I . . . didn't know if you wanted me to call. You've been so . . . distant."
"Sorry. A lot on my mind. Look, we can't get together because my agent got me this three-week engagement in Tokyo." Her sterile voice suddenly brightened. "Can you believe that? Oh god, I'm so excited. The Japanese are very big on jazz, you know. They hired me to sing in this great club in Tokyo. For three weeks! Oh god, I thought I might have heart failure when she called and told me. They're paying for my flight, my hotel, everything. I have to leave early tomorrow morning. That's why I sai
d to call before then."
"I'm so happy for you," Laura said. She truly was. It meant she wouldn't see Makeeda for three more weeks, but that might not be all bad since she had sensed that their meeting would be somehow unpleasant, if not a calamity, for her.
Makeeda's tone changed. She became genuinely solicitous, and her voice softened. "I know you are, Laura. I believe you," she said, much warmer now. "Thank you for being happy for me."
A hint of the feeling Laura knew Makeeda had had for her in the beginning came through in her voice. This brightened Laura a little. "I hate not seeing you. You know it doesn't have anything to do with sex." Laura was blunt. "I love you. I can't stand not seeing you."
As usual, this confession made Makeeda uncomfortable. She paused. Laura could hear her breathing nervously on the other end of the line. "Tell you what," she finally said. "I'll call you from Tokyo. I'm not sure of the time difference but I'll figure it out and call you when you're home."