by Miranda Mars
Laura kissed Sara's face while she gently, slowly fucked her in this way. Sara's sensual, pillowy lips had always been a magnet to her, and she now feasted on them while feeling her cunt slide up and down slowly in the wet warm trench of Sara's gaping pussy.
“Sara . . . Sara . . .” she breathed, almost inaudibly, letting her tongue explore Sara's mouth, then kissing her neck and round shoulders, moving her upper body a little so that she could feel Sara's marvelous naked breasts sliding against her own.
“Oh . . . Laura . . .” Sara kissed her back eagerly, taking Laura's face in both hands and holding it steady so that she could stab her tongue deep into Laura's mouth. “Please come with me.”
Laura knew they were going to come, both of them. She knew it was not far off. “I will. Unhhhhh! Oh god, it feels so good! Are you going to come? Now? Soon?”
“Yes,” Sara gasped, her eyes rolling up. “I . . . think I am. Come with me?”
“Of course, my darling.”
And yet they did not come yet. The gentle rhythm of their fucking did not change, did not slow or accelerate; instead, they seemed to concentrate on the feel of their two naked bodies totally mated, their skin touching everywhere, their sensitive nipples mashed together, their lips still intermingling, their tongues coiling. In contrast to the usual increasingly urgent pumping of normal trib fucking, they were very calm and almost motionless, their bodies moving in a sensual, synchronized harmony, as they approached together as slowly as possible the ultimate moment.
When Sara had thought she was going to come, she was mistaken. Instead, minutes passed as they fucked slowly, patiently, tenderly this way, sublimely in tune with each other's body, their lips and their fingers and their undulating hips communicating so exquisitely that both knew when they did finally come there would be no trouble in coming together.
And now this slow, simmering, sensual rhythm seemed to draw out of them again the emotions they had been avoiding earlier, and the reason Sara had said they would come to regret this. It was impossible not to remember all the times they had rubbed together almost like this, breathed in unison like this, their bodies touching intimately. They may never have hit on this precise, wonderful position, but they had fucked in innumerable other ways and shuddered happily in each other's arms countless times, and the knowledge that this was almost a valedictory, a farewell to those intense, beautiful moments, stirred them both and made them both inexpressibly sad.
This too kept them from climaxing prematurely since they wanted to savor each miniscule feeling and sensation of this possibly final mating, maybe the last time they would ever permit themselves this ultimate pleasure, knowing as they did the emotional toll it would take. It made them kiss each other more searchingly, and more achingly. It made each aware of the other's sexual plateau, just where she was on the rising scale of soaring excitement, how close to inevitable relief. They did not need to speak it because they felt it through each other's warm, flexing flesh.
Ohhhhh, it's coming . . . it's almost here! Laura thought, feeling the tension mount in her own body and Sara's, doing everything she could, however, to maintain the slow, sensual tempo, unwilling to speed it up for fear that her vulva would be somehow expelled from the unfolded wet flower of Sara's receptive pussy.
For several minutes, due to this intensity and this deep union of their flesh they were experiencing, there was no sound in the bedroom but their breathing and the occasional slurping sound of their lips as they continued to kiss. But finally the sexual tension got the better of them, and they began to whimper softly, and moan. Laura slithered her tongue into Sara's ear, and immediately Sara let go a long, deep but very soft moan.
“Ohhhhhnnnnnnnn!”
“Yes . . .” Laura whispered in response.
Sara's eyes came open. “I think . . . I really am now . . . going to . . .”
Laura smiled at her, breathing a little harder. “Going to come? Me too.”
Sara's eyes held hers, almost desperately. “Come with me, Laura.”
“I told you I would,” Laura smiled, her eyes now rolling up as she felt the first wave of a shattering orgasm begin to sweep through her body. “Mmmnnnnnhheeee!”
She knew she was coming and yet felt Sara's flesh clench and shudder sharply even before her own killing bliss gripped her. This was not a normal, jolting orgasm, on either side. Instead, they were enveloped by a hot cloud of throbbing ecstasy, their bodies quivering together, their breath jagged and arrhythmic as wave after wave of the most exquisitely intense coming Laura had ever felt streamed through their clenching flesh. And through it all they kept their groins moving smoothly together, Laura rotating her thighs upward a little more persistently now to bring their clits actually together with each thrust, intensifying the deep spasms of their shared orgasm.
“Ohhhnnnnn! Oh god!” she heard herself gasping in a choked, throttled voice as the first five or six most severe spasms waned, enough for her to catch her breath.
Sara was whinnying uncontrollably throughout, and yet in a soft, distant, trancelike way, the sounds flowing out of her lungs but not loudly, only feathering Laura's ears with the sweet, apparently almost unbearable bliss of her climax. It was like suspended animation, their bodies linked in heavenly paroxysms and their breath intermingled as they kissed sloppily and hungrily during the entire event. It went on forever, but finally even their steady rhythm could summon no more rapture. They had milked it for everything and suddenly grew limp and exhausted.
Laura figured they had each come three or four times, the subsequent orgasms smaller than the first one but no less agonizingly intense. “I came forever,” she whispered into Sara's marvelous ear, kissing her cheek, running one hand up to Sara's breast and squeezing it affectionately. “I could come forever with you.”
Sara smiled and made a face, crossing her eyes. “They'll find us like this. Two dead lesbos, pussy to pussy. 'They died happy.'”
“They certainly did.”
Sara grew serious. Laura could read her mind. After all their intimate time together, each could sense what the other might say. Sara was going to bring up Makeeda, though she didn't know her name. She was going to make a sad remark about how unhappy Makeeda would be after 'they' found the two dead lesbos locked together at the crotch.
“Don't say it,” she murmured softly, shaking her head.
Sara's face softened as she knew Laura had divined her intent. “Okay. You're right,” she breathed, resigned. She kissed Laura's forehead, even though she was still on the bottom. “Want to get off me so I can breathe?”
Laura reluctantly peeled herself off Sara's body, literally peeling away since they were stuck together by a thin film of sweat. “Sara,” she said, lying beside her, running her fingertips over Sara's beautiful dark brown flesh and darker nipples, “I don't think we ever made love that . . . that beautifully. Even when we were together.”
Sara nodded. “Maybe it takes this sadness to make it so intense.” She crossed her eyes. “Ain't life a bitch?”
Laura said nothing. She was afraid she had said too much already. “I'm going to go get my glass of wine. Want me to bring yours too?”
Sara flirted. “Trying to get me drunk? So you can have your way with me again?”
Laura leered playfully at her from the bedroom door, letting her eyes fall hungrily to Sara's scrumptious breasts. “You have read my mind, my darling. I am going to ravish you so thoroughly that you will not be able to walk afterward for hours.”
“God, I miss you,” Sara said, before Laura, sensing another dangerous moment, darted into the living room to retrieve their wine.
They managed for the rest of the evening to keep their changed circumstances off-limits as a topic of conversation and allowed themselves to be haunted only by the bittersweet ache that lay behind every word and every caress. And yet they had made love to each other for so long that they knew every nuance of sexual manipulation it took to make each other nearly scream with need. By ten o'clock the
y had drunk so much wine and had so many orgasms they could barely move.
“We should eat something,” Laura half-groaned as she rolled over, trying to rouse the languid Sara. “You fucked me too much. I'm hungry.”
Sara came to life and kissed Laura on the nose. “You shouldn't be hungry. You ate enough black pussy to last you for a week.”
“Mmmm,” Laura laughed. “Don't start. I couldn't do it again if the earth were blowing up in five minutes.”
Sara crinkled her nose. “Speaking of. That's about what that last climax I had felt like.”
They grew solemn and kissed searchingly, as if they both knew they might never kiss again this way. “I better go home and eat,” Laura whispered. “If I stay here, eating will only get our strength back, and we'll be back in this bed the rest of the night.”
Sara smiled calmly and shrugged, resigned. “It's not such a bad thing. We do it well together.”
Laura was already reluctantly pulling on her clothes. “We sure do.” She wanted to say 'I love you, Sara,' and she did, she did love her, but she knew it would be misinterpreted. It was no longer like the love she felt for Makeeda, but it was still love. And the ache as she got ready to leave was almost unbearable. She could see it was for Sara too.
“Friends?” she asked softly, clasping both of Sara's hands in her own.
Sara nodded. “Friends.” Her eyes welled up and grew shiny but no tears fell. “Good friends. Very good friends.”
“Good.” Laura turned the knob.
“You can . . . call.”
“I will. I will call. When I can.”
“Bye, Laura.”
Makeeda was home only three weeks before she had to leave again for two weeks in Los Angeles.
“Forgive me for saying it, but I think you must have a lover or something down there, you go there so often,” Laura said in a clipped tone of voice, sort of hating herself for being petulant, but unwilling to be silent.
Makeeda smiled. “Are we getting a little jealous? I have a vocal coach, an agent, and several musicians I work with regularly at club dates and to develop repertoire down there. It is the entertainment capital of the world, you know. What do you expect me to do?”
Laura held her head high with mock disdain. “I still think you're seeing somebody.” She was only half-serious, but she could get into the theatrics of it if required.
Makeeda pursed her lips in exasperation. “Maybe we should move down there. Then you could keep an eye on me. Anyway, what about you? I know you're not 'knitting with the cats,' as you say, while I'm gone.”
Laura blushed. “I--”
“What about that cute, short one who makes the funny faces? The one you were with when we first saw each other?”
Laura blushed hotter. “What about her?” She couldn't help feeling guilty for her latest infidelity, when she and Sara had met by chance at Saks and returned to Sara's apartment for an almost spiritual session of missionary trib fucking. “And how do you know about the faces?”
“I saw her making them. At La Rondine, when you two came in together. You know, I fell in love with you at first sight. I couldn't keep my eyes off you. I thought she was so lucky. Cute, too. I was jealous. I'm still jealous.”
“Too bad I didn't ever get to meet Diane, so I could be jealous of her,” Laura said, pouting and hoping to veer away from the subject of Sara.
“You are jealous of her,” Makeeda smiled. “You frown every time her name comes up.”
“I guess I am,” Laura shrugged. “I fell in love with you at first sight too.”
Makeeda embraced her. “Aren't we lucky? Some people are never so lucky in their whole dreary lives.”
“I know. But I'm still jealous of L.A.”
Still, she was not so jealous of it as to spend her days simmering in green stew all the time that Makeeda would be away. The thought of Sara was dangerous enough to keep her in a blue funk of denial. She was due to get her teeth cleaned, and the dentist for whom Sara worked was her dentist. That was how they had met, at the dental office.
God, I should just get another dentist, she thought. Ask Rhonda, or Yvette, or someone else at work what dentist they use.
But . . . she didn't. Makeeda was gone, she was lonely, she was horny. She knew she would see Sara and it would be playing with fire . . . but she kept her appointment.
Sara--in charge of the appointments list, of course--knew she was coming. She looked up from her desk calmly, impersonally, serenely almost, as Laura entered the office. It was almost a flashback to their first meeting. Sara in her crisp white blouse with the little name tag above the pocket: SARA PAIGE. Laura nervous and desperately attracted to her, though this time determined to overcome it. After the sweet little sparring match she had had with Makeeda about jealousy, she was not about to give in to this temptation again. Once had been bad enough.
Still, we fucked, she couldn't help thinking over and over again, as she stepped up to the desk. We did it every day for over a year, and came in each other's arms a hundred times. This lovely woman. I held her fat, pretty little clittie in my mouth. I made her whimper and gasp. How can we just look at each other now as if we're total strangers? Or if not that, at least just receptionist and patient? I want to do it again. And she does too, I know she does!
Sara, however, looked up at her with only the vaguest flicker of recognition in her limpid dark brown eyes. “Hello, Laura,” she said softly.
There were three other patients in the waiting room this time, so any intimate reference was out of the question. “Hi,” Laura said meekly. She smiled with all the warmth of her old time love for Sara, hoping it would clearly register.
They stared at each other. Then a hint of a friendly smile turned up each corner of Sara's opulent, desirable mouth. “Just have a seat. It might be ten minutes or so.”
Laura was crestfallen. Sara was not cold to her, but she was not forthcoming either. Probably she too had reconsidered their last time together and decided that risking these emotions was a dangerous activity, best avoided. This was, after all, the same office in which Laura had pleaded with Sara to take her back after she had committed the unpardonable indiscretion of sleeping with Sara's own sister, Dee Dee. They had such a history together, both good and bad, ecstatic and painful. No wonder Sara might want to avoid complicating matters any further.
Laura sat quietly and read a magazine, then took her turn in the dentist's chair when her time came. She stopped at Sara's desk on the way out to confirm another appointment in six months.
It was four o'clock. Sara would be getting off soon, at five. “Are you riding the Muni Metro?” Laura asked her. “Why don't you let me give you a ride home.”
Sara looked up at her from the computer screen, her face a blank, unreadable. She did not speak for the longest time. There were no longer any patients waiting, and so Laura knew that they both could speak freely.
Finally, Sara shook her head slowly. “I don't think we better, Laura.”
Laura shrugged, trying not to wince at this little rejection. “I guess . . . you're right. I can't help . . . wanting to . . . you know.”
Sara nodded. “Me too,” she said, almost inaudibly. “I have a . . . girlfriend now.” She looked down, almost embarrassed to admit it, apparently. “She might see us. She works in this building.”
“Oh.” Laura felt her heart flutter and her head grow light. “Gosh, I'm so happy for you. Really. Wouldn't want to upset her. That would be bad.”
Suddenly, Sara crossed her eyes and screwed up her features into a zany face, the kind Laura had grown to love. “She's a possessive little 'B' anyway, so maybe we should try it.”
“Oh no . . . oh no,” Laura backed off, laughing softly. “You're not involving me in your romantic intrigues. I just offered you a ride. That's all.”
Sara looked suddenly pensive. “That's all?” she asked, in a haunted voice, as if she would be desolated to discover that Laura meant only to give her a ride, not jump into bed with h
er.
“No. That isn't all,” Laura said evenly. “You know that could never be all.”
They looked into each other's eyes without speaking for a very long time, so long that Laura almost felt as if they were making love right there, with their clothes still on. “You better go, Laura,” Sara finally said, again almost inaudibly.