Laura's body ached for a while after her evening with Eric and Mavis, but that went away before long. What lingered was her sadness at not being able to have the emotional and sexual intimacy with Mavis that she had planned in her fantasies. Even worse were the myriad anxieties caused by her memory of Eric's clear lust for Mavis, and Mavis's flirtatious response.

At work, Rhonda dropped a malicious bomb on her by casually remarking, as they passed one another entering and leaving the restroom, "Hi, Laura. Gosh, must've crushed you to see that stunning young Tamara Taylor just quit like that, eh?"

Laura blushed beet red. She knew she had not seen Tamara around and had wondered why. After all, the girl had fallen deeply in love with Laura, honestly and completely in love, after Laura had found her g-spot and made her nearly perish in a string of glorious orgasms. She had been so in love that even Laura had been mildly embarrassed.

"Quit?" Laura half-choked.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Rhonda turned sickeningly sweet and confidential, suddenly Laura's oldest, trustiest friend. "She quit last week, just like that. Moved to Europe or something, I heard. Maybe getting married." Rhonda raised one blonde eyebrow. "What a loss, right?" she lowered her voice to a whisper. "What a gorgeous body. And face. She was perfect. I don't think she liked our type, though. I tried to flirt with her once and she gave me the icicle treatment. Did you try?"

"Oh . . . no, never," Laura mumbled, confused and hurt and dumfounded. "Too beautiful for me."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Rhonda adopted her most sarcastic, cutting tone. "What about Randi? She's just as beautiful."

This made Laura blush again. They both knew that Randi was now sleeping with Rhonda instead of Laura. It made Laura painfully, deeply jealous and angry, and she nearly gave into her anger right there. She hated Rhonda anyway, for any number of reasons. The cunt. How can you bring that up and fling it in my face, you harpy!

Instead, she took a deep breath, looking away, so as not to be tempted to scratch out the witch's eyes. "Yes . . . she is very beautiful," she said, softly, feeling on the verge of tears and not wanting Rhonda to see them.

Then she hurriedly brushed past Rhonda and walked away quickly, surprised at the sharp pain she felt inside at the mention of Randi's name. By the time she got back to her office, she was in bad shape. Her fears about Mavis being attracted to Eric mingled with her shock at Tamara's disappearance and her loss of Randi to Rhonda to truly sink her spirits. She was very depressed.

She realized that it was precisely this kind of distressing contretemps that in the past had driven her to Karen for hours of depraved sex, so hot, masochistic, and twisted that it scorched away any vestige of naively amorous longing for the darling girls Laura craved so deeply. It was really in order to prevent this that after work she drove by the apartment house where she had last seen Tamara, having helped her with the boxes, and then, in Tamara's narrow twin bed, having fucked the beautiful girl into a seventh heaven of sexual rapture.

She loved me, Laura thought, mawkishly, embarrassed to be going over and over it but unable to forget it. I loved having her love me. It meant she would let me have her again and again, and that Stewart didn't matter. Did she really just take off like that?

Laura found it hard to believe. Almost in a daze, as if sleepwalking, she parked her car and moments later found herself ringing the doorbell of Tamara's apartment. Or former apartment. The door was answered by a young, slender black girl who looked vaguely familiar. Then Laura saw the long braid coming directly out the hair at the top of her forehead. The girl in the picture! Layla? Shayla? What was her name?

The girl smiled at Laura. She had a beautiful, open, friendly smile, betraying no suspicion or annoyance. "Yes?"

"Hi, my name is Laura. I'm a friend of Tamara's. From work. Is she in?"

Only now did Laura sense that someone else was inside the apartment, behind the girl. But there appeared to be nothing private going on since the girl opened the door even wider, though her intriguing face turned into a frown of concern.

"Oh, you didn't know? She must have forgotten to tell you, it was all so sudden. Tamara moved to Italy. She went over there with her boyfriend. They left last Tuesday."

Laura knew her face must have sunk, and she could even feel her shoulders slump in disappointment. On the other hand, she remembered to stand up straight again quickly. It wouldn't do for her to seem like a rejected lover.

"Oh. No, she didn't tell me. I . . . well, I really only knew her in passing. Not very well. She probably didn't think it was important to tell me."

There was an uncomfortable pause. Then the girl brightened up again, probably feeling sorry for Laura's distress. "You want to come inside for a minute?"

She opened the door very wide now, inviting Laura in. Now Laura caught a glimpse of another black girl inside. This one, though not beautiful by any standard definition, sped like an arrow straight into the depths of Laura's overactive libido. She was very black, like Cecilia or Charise, and had flashing, ambiguous eyes. Her dense, wiry hair was drawn up in a broom-like spray behind her head, wrapped in a bright yellow scarf. She was wearing jeans and a big, loose sweatshirt. The girl at the door saw Laura looking at her, and Laura quickly covered by smiling and accepting the invitation.

"Only for a second," she said, stepping into the apartment.

"My friend Dawn," the girl said, introducing Laura to the very black girl. "You said your name was—"

"Laura."

"I'm Shayla." Shayla beamed at Laura again with her wide-open, innocent, friendly smile.

"Of course," Laura said. "The girl in the picture." She pointed to the mantel. "Tamara told me about you. You were in New York, auditioning."

Shayla nodded, beaming proudly. "I'm going back, too. I got the job. I'm going to be a dancer in the Dance Theater of Harlem."

She was a slender, half-formed slip of a thing, but this made her nearly burst the buttons of her man's white shirt with pride, though it was clear that her breasts were small to nothing. She had a dancer's body, almost a female sprinter's body, very athletic, not an ounce of fat, only sleek muscle, from the little that Laura could actually see, but not the bulging, glossy, grotesque muscles that a bodybuilder like Brandi had, or even the impressive muscles Kendra sported from working out all the time. Shayla's were the muscles a dancer needs to spring and sail through the air, or to spin perfectly in one place, to leap, to bend but not break, to arch and soar and descend with superior grace to the floor.

Both Laura and Dawn broke spontaneously into admiring applause, so swept up were they in Shayla's immense joy. "Congratulations," Laura said. "You must be very good."

"She is very good," Dawn said, looking almost as proud. "She's the best. You should see her."

"I'd love to," Laura said, genuinely.

She liked them both as well as feeling a powerful sexual attraction to Dawn. But she couldn't look at her very intently since she didn't want to seem rude and intrusive, and she was also afraid her lust would show.

"I'm leaving for New York tomorrow," Shayla said, ebulliently. "Dawn and her boyfriend are going to be living here. They're taking over the apartment for Tamara and me."

"I was just on my way out," Dawn said, heading for the door behind Laura. "We still have a lot to do before we move our stuff over here tomorrow." She squint-smiled at Laura, riveting Laura's gaze with her ambiguous dark eyes. "I'm so glad I could meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Dawn."

God, I'd give anything to go to bed with you! Laura thought, but bit her tongue and twisted her fingers together, trying very hard to be disciplined and not to give in to these horrible impulses. The girl was enchanting in some mesmerizing way, and Laura's heart was also sunk by the knowledge that she had a boyfriend who would be living her with here. You can't have every lovely girl! she told herself. Just get used to it!

In seconds, though, the door shut, Dawn was gone, and she and Shayla were alone. Shayla, it quickly appeared, was one of those people who are at ease anywhere, in any situation, and never made nervous by anything. She was relaxed and friendly, as before. It was Laura who was nervous.

"I guess it must be a little shock to you," she said to Laura. "Italy and all. It was pretty quick. Would you like a Coke? Or some green tea? I drink green tea all the time. Calms me down."

Laura smiled. "You are very calm. I'm impressed. My heart would be fluttering if I were moving to New York tomorrow."

"Oh, it is," Shayla smiled back. "I just don't let it show."

"Tea would be great."

Shayla brewed them both a cup a tea, while Laura watched. She also realized that Shayla was one of those people who were not intrinsically beautiful but nevertheless very attractive because of their natures, because they radiated a kind of comfort with themselves and genuine interest in others that was irresistible. Shayla had a sort of bulbous nose with a flat front which on many women would have been flagrantly homely, but on her it was barely noticeable. She had a few unpleasant acne scars on one cheek, and not perfectly straight teeth, but her smile was radiant and stirring, and she moved with a grace—obviously a dancer's grace—that Laura could only envy.

She was wearing a white man's dress shirt with the tails hanging out and down her thighs, and black stirrup pants, no shoes. Her hair, except for the long, bizarre braid that came down from the top of her forehead, was swept back and up into a bushy little clump, like Dawn's had been, and tied with a rawhide strip. Even the braid seemed totally natural after a while, and instead of drooping oddly in front of her face, she managed to sweep it to one side or another, where it looked original and even inspired, making her more interesting than ever. She was not nearly as black as Dawn; instead, her smooth skin had the rich deep milk chocolate color of Randi or Ada.

Laura felt very good and relaxed being with her. The green tea really did have a calming effect. They talked about Laura's job and Shayla's new opportunity.

"It's about the most exciting thing that can happen to you if you're a dancer," Shayla said. "Especially a black dancer."

"I'll bet it is," Laura agreed. "I wish I could see you dance."

"I used to dance around here," Shayla swept one arm around to indicate the whole room. "We had all the furniture pushed to the sides. "That's when Tamara was here. I've sort of stopped in the past two weeks. Don't want to sprain my ankle or anything."

"I know, I saw it all cleared out for your dancing when I was here once before," Laura said. "Tamara said you practiced dancing here."

"I guess you were sleeping with her, eh?" Shayla said, apparently without any devious intent, as if she were asking if Laura and Tamara belonged to the same bridge club.

But Laura, as usual, was totally flummoxed and actually choked on her tea. She gulped and spluttered and coughed, holding her fist to her mouth, turning purple. It seemed like one of the most embarrassing moments of her life. She was aware of Shayla pounding her back and asking if she was okay.

"Yes," she swallowed. "I . . . think I'm okay. Just a little drop of tea . . . down the wrong pipe."

Shayla withdrew, sitting down across from Laura again. "I didn't mean to make you choke," she smiled with concern. "Sorry."

"Don't be. My fault."

"I shouldn't have said that. It just popped out, I guess. It doesn't mean anything to me. If you were, I mean. Sleeping together. It just seemed a little weird. She's kind of . . . well, you know . . . kind of a surface kind of girl, know what I mean? Not very deep. And she's so gorgeous and everything, and all the guys are after her all the time. And she was so proud of going with that linebacker guy she moved to Italy with. He got a job on some football team over there. I think that really means he wasn't good enough to cut it over here, but Tamara thought it means he's going to the hall of fame or something. Anyway, suddenly all she could talk about was you. 'Laura, this girl from work, she's so beautiful. She's so sexy, I wish I looked like her. Laura was so sweet to me, I just like being around her so much.' Laura this, Laura that. I don't think anyone ever had the effect on her you had. Not since I knew her anyway."

This monologue had a very mixed effect on Laura, who was flattered to be hearing it and filled with mortification at the same time. After all, Shayla was rattling on about Laura being a lesbian, which Laura did everything in her power to conceal. She didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry," Shayla looked down, genuinely upset with herself. "I really put my foot in it."

"No," Laura shook her head, looking her straight in the eye. "You're right. We did . . . do that a couple of times. It was really quite wonderful for both of us."

Shayla grinned, half-ashamed, apparently to be thinking this. "I'll bet. You're both so beautiful. She told me you were. But you know, hardly anyone is as beautiful as she is. It took me a while to get used to all the guys mooning after her and not even looking at me."

Laura wanted to bite at this invitation, to tell Shayla how fetching she was herself, and that she shouldn't let a gorgeous but vacuous airhead like Tamara make her feel inferior. But she decided quickly it would make her seem too predatory. Not only a lesbian, but a horny one eager to fuck every pretty young girl in sight. Still, it made her look differently at Shayla. This lovely young girl, why wouldn't men want her? Laura could suddenly recognize a yearning in her own mind and body that she understood very well.

"I love that braid," she said, indicating the long braid that was currently swept to the left side of Shayla's face. "Where did you get such a brilliant idea? It makes you seem so . . . original, you know? So creative."

Shayla squirmed and smiled, flattered. "Most people think it's dorky. I have to tie it back when I dance, or else it's flopping around like a rope or a switch."

Laura smiled at her during a long, fairly uncomfortable pause, and then self-consciously looked away, aware that she was giving Shayla the smoldering, sexual stare she reserved for those she desperately desired.

"I had an experience with another woman once," Shayla said, almost brightly, as if remarking on the weather.

This, Laura reflected, was a natural part of the girl's relaxed, frank, unruffled mode, the aura she had of not really being shocked or unnerved by anything.

"Did you," she said, not asking, more just filling the silence. "And was it good?"

"Not really. She was another dancer. Lots of dancers are gay. I guess you know that. I think it's from focusing on your own body so much."

"Actually, I didn't. But I guess everyone thinks the men are, at least."

Shayla smiled with intriguing mysteriousness. "Oh, not all of them."

"You went to bed with one of them too."

Shayla nodded shyly. "Two of them. One's my current boyfriend, though he's in school right now in Ann Arbor. We hardly see each other."

"I guess Barishnykov wasn't gay. He had lots of girls, didn't he?"

For the first time, Shayla almost lost her poise. She seemed briefly to swoon, amusingly so to Laura. "Oh wow, I think he did. He could sure have had me, if he wanted to."

"I know what you mean. Pretty good looking guy . . . for a Russian. Right?"

Now Shayla looked puzzled. Laura knew the girl wanted to ask her why she would be attracted to a man too. Before she could ask, Laura veered back.

"Did you ever think about trying it again?" she asked gently, but kept her eyes tightly riveted to Shayla's.

Shayla held Laura's gaze without flinching, then looked down at her tea cup. "Not until now," she whispered.

Though weary after a day of work, Laura felt herself perk up. She had not come by this apartment with such an intent, but neither had she expected to run into Shayla or Dawn. She now wondered what she had expected.

"Do you mind if I take off my jacket and stay a while?" Laura asked.

Shayla shook her head. She smiled. "I don't mind."

Laura took off her suit jacket and set it carefully on a nearby kitchen chair. She turned back to Shayla.

"Aren't you going to show me a few dance moves? Before you run off to New York? So I won't feel cheated?"

Shayla grinned and shook her head. Her one long black braid dangled in front of her face bizarrely, and she crossed her eyes in a clownish frown, looking at it in front of her nose. "See what I mean?" she smiled.

"I want to see you dance."

Shayla, who was sitting on the floor in a lotus position, got to her feet. She lifted her tea cup and saucer up and put them on the small coffee table Laura had been using.

"Are you sure? Because I can't dance in this. I have to change."

"Then change," Laura smiled. "How often to you have a devoted audience of one?"

Shayla was a performer, and this offer was too great for her to turn down. She quietly disappeared into the bedroom, the back one where Tamara and Laura had enjoyed an exhausting marathon of fucking only a few weeks earlier, and returned a few moments later wearing a white leotard. She had tucked the long, thin braid into the bun of hair at the back of her head. Her body was even more slender than Laura had imagined, though the leotard of course flattened everything out anyway.

But she had a catlike grace that was now even more apparent. She put on a CD of Bach's fourth Brandenburg Concerto and danced for Laura in the small apartment for the next twenty minutes. Her lean, willowy body swooped and soared and spun through the room, dipping and whirling in stunning, graceful motions that had Laura's heart fluttering. The stark white leotard contrasted thrillingly with the deep rich dark chocolate of her skin, a contrast Laura always found fascinatingly erotic anyway, now hypnotic and scintillating as Shayla showed off her amazing physical skills.

When the music stopped, she was panting and shiny with a thin film of perspiration. This aroused Laura even more. She clapped, genuinely excited, as Shayla bounced over to the CD player and shut it off.

"God, you are terrific," Laura said. "I see why they gave you the job."

Shayla beamed, still panting. "I'm glad you liked it."

Feeling bold in the aftermath of this exciting performance, and liking Shayla very much, Laura went over to her and carefully disengaged the long braid, freeing it to dangle again in front of Shayla's face. Shayla's eyes were on hers the whole time, and Laura brushed the braid to the side so that their mouths could come together. They kissed slowly, without any aggressive passion or insistence. Shayla's mouth opened to Laura's searching tongue after a while.

Laura ran her hands lightly over the leotard, up and down. Shayla had so little body fat that she seemed only half-formed, as if she were a fourteen-year-old girl instead of a young woman in her early twenties. Laura realized that Charise or Jane, both teenagers, had more flesh on them than this girl, larger breasts, fleshier, rounder bottoms. But Shayla was superbly conditioned and supple, and her body seemed to melt willingly into Laura's as they kissed and embraced more eagerly.

Laura kissed her damp neck, then her ear. "I want to take this thing off you," she whispered. "I love your lean dancer's body."

Shayla batted her long eyelashes at Laura. She was not above a little coquettish teasing. "It's hard to take off. I'll take it off for you."

Laura felt a hot squirt of sexual fire shoot through her whole body at these words. Things with Shayla were so natural, so relaxed. There was no complicated flirtation or anxiety, as with so many others. She and Shayla enjoyed one another. Shayla had loved dancing for Laura, and Laura had loved watching. And now they were going to enjoy thrilling sex together, and it was all so relaxed and natural. Laura was filled with wonder.

"I would be so grateful if you did," she whispered back. "I want to kiss every inch of you."

Shayla smirked sexily at her. "Let me pull the drapes shut. I don't want to do it in the back bedroom because that's where you did it with Tamara."

Laura felt another hot, red blush rising to her face, but she fought it off, suffering only a temporary pink bloom. She didn't know whether to say something stupid, like 'Oh, it didn't mean anything,' or just be silent. Shayla pulled the drapes quickly, so Laura chose the latter. God, how embarrassing, she thought.

But Shayla seemed unperturbed by it and was back in a second. She even took Laura's hand and drew her over to the worn leather sofa.

"Here will be fine," she said, matter-of-factly.

With a fluid motion born of many years spent pulling leotards on and off, she peeled the garment off and was completely naked. Being a few inches shorter, she looked up expectantly at Laura in the dim light, since the room was much darker now that she had pulled the drapes. Laura removed her own clothing in a hurry, feeling very conspicuously dressed since Shayla was now stark naked.

Shayla helped Laura off with her bra. "Oooohhh, you have nice ones," she said, letting her long black fingers curl around the small, perfect globes of Laura's pale naked breasts.

Laura cradled Shayla's face in both hands and kissed her mouth more heatedly, driving her tongue in deep, feeling her own passion rise and throb and ache inside her body. She somehow went from tentatively embracing this marvelous young woman with the half-formed body of a child to clasping Shayla urgently, hungrily, digging her fingers into the girl's supple flesh, kissing her in a ravening fit of wanton need.

"Oh god, honey, you're so lovely," she panted into Shayla's neck. "I want you so bad."

Shayla smiled up at her, sensual and soft. "I want you too, Laura."

"Come here . . . lie down with me and let me kiss you forever."

Laura pulled her own onto the sofa, which made creaking, squeaking noises as their flesh pressed against the worn leather. She enfolded Shayla's naked body in her arms, feeling their small breasts brush and then press together, feeling Shayla's warm breath on her neck. Laura really was rhapsodically enchanted by this lean, delicious, graceful naked woman in her arms, filling her lungs with Shayla's welcome odor, the faint scent of sweat mingled with the ripe, thick, pungent fumes of aroused pussy that she could detect wafting up from their crotches.

She's just as horny as I am, Laura realized. They kissed and stroked one another for several minutes, in no hurry to move beyond the thrill of this intimate moment to the more engrossing caresses that lay ahead of them.

"You know," Shayla whispered between kisses, her eyes glowing, "I sometimes come really fast when I get excited. And I don't want this to stop, I just want to go on with you. I like this."

"I do too. I think I might come if you just . . . touched me," Laura breathed, meaning it. "You know?"

Shayla nodded slowly. "I guess we won't have any trouble," she smiled.

"I don't think so. Will you come if I suck your nipples?"

Shayla gnawed her lower lip. "I might. I'm pretty excited." She giggled softly. "You should feel my pussy. It's gurgling and throbbing."

Laura realized that it was a perfect opportunity for what she yearned to do. Sometimes pussy-to-pussy fucking could be hard to bring off since it took a lot of grinding and patience and care to keep your cunts together and your clits touching, but if you both were so aroused that you were about to come anyway, the merest touch of your wet, open pussy against hers was often enough to trigger the bomb.

"I'd like to touch yours . . . with mine," she whispered into Shayla's ear, following the words with her tongue and some warm breath that made the girl shiver sharply.

"Oh!" Shayla gasped, quivering helplessly in Laura's arms. Her eyes blinked open. "God, I've never done that. Yes!"

Laura slid down her lovely, slender, black body, wanting to kiss and suck and devour all of it but knowing she would later have the chance. Shayla had very small breasts and small black nipples that Laura's eyes lingered on hungrily as she carefully slid one leg under one of Shayla's, bringing her wet, pulsing groin up so that her inflamed, oozing pussy was only inches from Shayla's gaping slit, the edges jet black and shiny with juice, the interior glistening and ruby-red. Shayla watched everything in deep fascination, glancing up into Laura's eyes in the instant before their two swollen cunts came together.

"Ahnnn!" Shayla gasped, eyes rolling up, as she felt the contact.

Laura was too overwhelmed even to make a noise. Her body filled with liquid fire that seemed to flow back and forth between her own throbbing pussy and Shayla's, the raw, wet flesh of their most intimate parts sliding together and causing intense, unbearably sweet sensations.

"Oh god!" Laura finally panted, surfacing from her sexual rapture long enough to let her eyes drift up and down Shayla's beautiful lean black body, then fasten on her face, which also was torn by acute sexual pleasure.

The long center braid was falling down over the middle of Shayla's face as her dark, imploring eyes caught Laura's, and they both began to undulate their hips, carefully letting their warm, greasy cunts slide together, each one aware that they were both about ready to burst into flames.

"Ohhh Laura . . . it's so good," Shayla gasped, looking down at their joined pussies, moving her body with the exquisite grace she was capable of, sliding her cunt against Laura's and throwing her head back as the sensations poured through her.

Following Laura's example, she slipped two fingers down to spread her cuntlips apart, as Laura was doing, and make the pressing together of their wet warm cunt flesh easier. The result was a heightening of the intensity to an even higher level, so that they both sank into a hot delirium of need, gyrating vigorously, gulping air, whimpering, clutching one another's naked thigh, urging each other toward the final release.

"Oh . . . Laura! Oh . . . now!" Shayla gasped, her small breasts swirling in circles as she pumped her streaming pussy into Laura's.

Laura used her forked fingers to guide her own clit into Shayla's, feeling them mash together just as Shayla's body seemed to be wracked by a fierce jolt of coming.

"Yes, baby . . . yes," Laura panted, gyrating her own pelvis frantically, feeling her own body erupt only a fraction of a second behind Shayla's.

"Auungghhh!" Shayla cried out, her body buckling, then thrown back by the force of the shock.

"Oh yes . . . oh aauuAUUNGGHHHH!" Laura followed close behind her, feeling a huge hot bubble of molten sexual lava burst inside her and flood her veins.

Both of them nearly collapsed under the impact, and yet at the same time their bodies were surging and pushing together, their hot, throbbing cunts sliding and mashing together in a slippery, wet union. They undulated in unison, groaning and whimpering, sunk under successive waves of intense ecstacy, until the spasms began to wane. Even then, then did not want to move, to break the connection, the hot wet kiss of their throbbing pussies, their groins mated and pulsing with the aftershocks of a stunning shared climax.

Finally, Shayla propped herself up on her elbows, her small breasts jiggling and catching Laura's eyes as Laura realized they had fucked once already now without Laura having tasted these pretty little breasts.

"Oh god . . . I never knew that was possible!" Shayla gasped softly, in awe of what they had done, grinning in gratified surprise.

"Ummm, lots of things are possible," Laura purred, disentangling their legs. She could feel a lot of wetness. "Maybe we should get a towel. I think we got carried away and wetted each other up."

"I'll get one."

Shayla hopped up and disappeared in the direction of the bathroom, giving Laura a chance to gaze unobserved at her graceful, slender, naked body from behind. She had a delicious, long, and sinuous back though without the curves and shallows and cambers that gave a back such as Deshona's such thrilling beauty. Instead, probably because of dancing, Shayla's muscles were all long and smooth and evenly formed. She was also long-waisted, with narrow hips, and a rather flat though charming little bottom.

Laura, who almost worshipped the round, high, out-jutting, beautiful asses of some of her girlfriends, was always surprised to find a black girl with no bottom to speak of. It seemed so odd, as if the girl had been cheated by the gene pool, deprived of her rightful heritage by a genetic quirk that left her posteriorly challenged. It was rare, but it happened. On the other hand, Shayla's naked body was entirely unremarkable, pretty and very graceful, but half-formed and almost boyish: narrow hips, small breasts, flat bottom. What made her remarkable was her sweet, honest, relaxed, forthcoming nature, and her resonant woman's sexuality that was completely authentic and quickly made you ignore the fact that her thin slip of a body was not especially sexy in itself.

Even after pussy-fucking with her into a quick, ecstatic explosion, Laura wanted her body fiercely. She was unable to take her eyes off it as Shayla returned with a bath towel.

"I know I got carried away," Shayla said, handing it to Laura and taking up the conversation where they had left off. "I told you I come real quick sometimes."

"Come here, you delightful girl," Laura pulled her down on the sofa again, after drying off her crotch a little with the towel. "I'm already dying for more of you."

They laughed and embraced. "Everything seems so natural with you," Shayla confessed.

"Not like your first time with that other girl?"

Shayla shook her head. "Nothing like that. She was kind of . . . pretentious. Know what I mean? Being a lesbian was kind of a political act with her. She hated men and said women had to stick together. It was more like voting than fucking."

Laura laughed. This girl was a real wit. Don't fall in love with her, Laura, she warned herself. Shayla is going away to New York. Keep that in mind. New York. You have enough heartache already.

But it was hard. Shayla was even more delightful and charming than Laura had imagined, and soon they were cooing and murmuring and kissing again.

"This time we won't come so fast and we can take our time," Laura purred to her, kissing her neck and shoulders.

"Don't count on it," Shayla giggled softly, caressing Laura's cheek, twirling her fingers in Laura's rich chestnut hair. "I like doing it with you. It makes me hot."

Shayla's small breasts may have been unremarkable by comparison with some Laura had made love to, but they fell into the category—like Jonelle's, or Mavis's—of being just enough round, firm flesh to fit completely into her mouth, nipple and all. And Shayla's nipples were small, coal-black, soft nubs that seemed extremely sensitive since she gasped and quivered just from feeling Laura's tongue teasing them.

"Oh! Oh yes!" she panted, watching Laura suck first one, then the other entire breast into her mouth.

Even though she was sucking each little breast completely into her mouth, Laura started slowly, not devouring the delectable little mounds but sucking them gently, licking the small nipples with the back of her tongue, and pinching them against the roof of her mouth. But it excited Shayla wildly, and therefore Laura too, and soon she was really sucking them hard.

They were lying face to face, side by side on the sofa, but Laura quickly rolled Shayla onto her back and slid on top of her, now pinching her wet black nipples, which were growing more rubbery and erect by the second, and kissing her mouth hungrily.

"Your mine, you're all mine now," she panted. "I'm taking you, you just lie there and let me have every inch of your lovely body."

"Ahhnn! Unhhh! Oh Laura god that feels so good!"

"Your little breasts are very sensitive."

Shayla's eyes rolled up as Laura's fingers twisted her small, hardened nipples. "God, I love it when you suck the whole thing in like that. Do it again."

"Ummm, I'd be happy to."

She gave Shayla a repeat performance, this time scooping up one small breast in both hands and trying to swallow it, then doing the same with the other. Shayla went wild, twisting under her, moaning and undulating.

"Oh! You really know how to make me want it!" she confessed, her eyes pulsing and swirling with hot sex. "Please, Laura."

"Ummm, not so fast," Laura purred, now kissing her smooth, taut stomach. "I said every inch of your body. Every inch. I love your smooth stomach. Your abs are so hard. You're so firm and smooth everywhere, so strong and lean and beautiful."

Shayla could not respond in words. Laura was using a skill on her that had been developed in many similar situations, and Laura knew how to bring her along slowly but inevitably, until she was a quivering, aching mass of sexual need, writhing and mewling, her lovely lean black body more desirable than ever now as Laura descended further. Her lips reached the top fringe of tight little black curls that formed Shayla's pubic patch, but instead of sinking further, Laura kissed her way back up the girl's smooth belly to her navel, a slight 'outie' that tempted her tongue. She teased it until Shayla was actually trembling and grabbing her head with both hands, forcing it down, dying to feel Laura's mouth on her inflamed pussy.

"Oh please! Oh please! Laura . . . please!" she moaned, twisting and flexing in a desperate fit of need.

"Yes, baby, yes," Laura purred, giving in.

She wanted to kiss the girl's oozing quim as much as Shayla wanted it, and now she slid between Shayla's yawning thighs and saw it up close for the first time, a lovely festering flower, deep glistening ruby red inside, with thick, meaty black labia folding out like the petals of a gorgeous, juicy blossom. Shayla's clit was so small that Laura could barely see it under the small, sheltering tent of skin at the top of her pussy, but she gently pulled the flesh apart with her thumbs, and the tiny bead emerged.

"Oh honey . . . what a beautiful pussy you have," she murmured. "I want to kiss it and lick it."

"Oh . . . yes! Please!"

Shayla's hips quivered, and she arched her back gracefully, her body fluid and skilled in movement even in this extreme state. Laura touched Shayla's exposed, tiny clit with the tip of her tongue, and Shayla groaned, arching even more stiffly, as if much closer to an orgasm than Laura had thought she would be yet.

"Ahh!"

"Mmmm, you like that," Laura whispered.

"Oh god, yes! I love it!"

"I guess I'll have to do it some more. But I'm afraid you'll come. I don't want you to come yet. I want to lick this beautiful pussy for a long time before you come."

"Ohhhhh Laura . . . I want to come! Please do it! God, you make me feel so good!"

But Laura was telling the truth. She did not want Shayla to come so quickly this second time, and she began kissing the smooth, warm, dark skin of her inner thighs, exploring more of her delicious body, as if to draw the sensation away from her over-stimulated pussy. And it had the desired effect. Shayla's body slackened, grew less tense, and her breathing less frantic as she luxuriated in the pleasure of Laura's skilled caresses.

Laura's hands were busy too, stroking Shayla's hips, her long, thin waist, rising again to her breasts, still damp with the residue of Laura's own saliva, kneading and lightly pinching her small, erect nipples, while her tongue returned to Shayla's shiny, gaping pussy, licking slow, tender swaths up and down the girl's swollen cuntlips.

"Mmmm, it smells and tastes so good, darling," she purred, now letting her tongue slither in between the warm wet folds and creases, pushing it as far as it would go into the hot pit of Shayla's throbbing cunt.

Every part of Shayla's body seemed to be acutely sensitive, and now she whimpering semi-hysterically, churning her pelvis frantically as Laura's tongue stabbed deep into her ruby-red wet slit.

"Oh! Oh!"

"Hold on, honey . . . hold on."

"Oh god, Laura! I can't stop it!"

"I know, I know."

Laura slid both hands under the girl's small, naked buns and squeezed them, scraping the flat of her tongue up across Shayla's tiny, now-bulging clit, knowing it was so sensitive and ready to pop that Shayla would come in only seconds. A deep shudder gripped the girl's supple, writhing body, and then she went quickly into stiff, wrenching convulsions, coming so hard that even her breath couldn't escape.

"Hhhh! Hhhhh! Ungghmmmnnggghhaaauunngggghhh!" she finally groaned in a strangled, clotted voice as the breath caught in her lungs finally escaped. "Oh! Oh! Unnngghiiieee!"

Her long dancer's legs flipped and jerked in the air, her toes curling visibly and her abdomen clenching to reveal the smooth rolling strips of hard muscle as she pumped her flowing pussy up into Laura's mouth, groaning and arching her back as fresh spasms, then another orgasm, shook her long, slender body. Laura had to pull her face back momentarily so as not to get bumped in the nose by Shayla's rising pelvic bone, which jabbed up and down as her hips surged and bucked. Mewling and moaning softly in the aftermath, Shayla finally slumped back to the mattress after a long bout of intense climaxing, fluttering her eyes and laughing in soft embarrassment as Laura slid up to kiss her.

She could not even speak, and Laura didn't want to infringe on the stunning quality of this sexual moment by speaking herself. Just let us feel it, she thought. She really came hard. God it was beautiful.

It was almost two minutes before Shayla smiled and shook her head. "I think I better go to New York. A little more of that and you're going to make me forget why I was going in the first place. I never came like that in my life. Never!"

"You're so in tune with your body," Laura said. "I'm surprised you never did before."

Shayla smiled bashfully. "You're the one who's in tune with my body." She propped herself up on her elbows, which made her small breasts jiggle sexily. Laura wanted them again. "Did you make Tamara come that way?" Shayla asked bluntly, as if it were an obvious, non-offensive question.

But Laura gulped and nearly blushed, sucking air hard to prevent it. She hated these questions. "Of course not," she lied. "She isn't in touch with her body like you are."

"I don't know whether I believe you."

"Why not?"

"She was in love with you. She couldn't talk about anything else. I think she ran off to Italy with that big dope Stewart because she felt exactly the way I feel right now. This is just too wonderful to be true, what we did together, and it really fucks up all your other plans."

Laura stretched out next to her, embraced her, kissed her. "If it was that good, maybe you'd like to try for another," she murmured, nuzzling Shayla's smooth black neck, wanting to veer away from this uncomfortable subject.

Gosh, maybe I have to stop fucking these lovely girls so well, Laura thought, if all it does is make them want to run away from me. She thought of Jonelle, Brandi, Trina, all of them afraid of the feelings Laura inspired in them, all of them fleeing. Now Tamara. Or maybe they just want a more 'normal' life than this crazy sexual intensity, she thought. It certainly can be a little wearing.

But it wasn't at the moment. She was very aroused by Shayla and definitely didn't want the evening to end here. Having come twice, and pretty violently the second time, Shayla now exuded a faint, thrilling, musky odor that aroused Laura even more. She pushed her nose under the girl's earlobes to inhale it.

"I love your sexy smell," she purred. "It makes me horny."

Shayla giggled and squirmed in her embrace. "I think you need it more than me," she whispered. "I can lick you too."

"You want to?"

Shayla nodded seriously. "I want to a lot."

The next five minutes were exquisitely pleasurable to Laura, who lay back and surrendered her body to Shayla. Unlike some girls, Shayla was not uncertain about her ability to please. She was tender but firm, licking and probing Laura's pussy with her tongue until Laura was twisting and churning uncontrollably.

"I never came twice like that at the same time," Shayla grinned up at her, tickling Laura's swollen clit with the tip of her tongue. "God . . . it felt like my whole body was exploding. Do you think you can do it too?"

"Yes!" Laura panted, almost exploding herself. "Oh god, honey, right there! Just like that! Ohhhh!"

"Want me to put my fingers in?" Shayla asked, absorbed by her activity, anxious to make it as good for Laura as she could.

"Yes! Hurry!"

Laura came only seconds after Shayla slid two fingers up into her aching slit. It was not the usual wrenching, jolting orgasm but instead a soft, blossoming, ever-intensifying hot cloud of bliss that enveloped her whole body. She lay quivering in its thrall for nearly a minute, only whinnying softly as wave after wave of sweet pleasure coursed through her body. And when Shayla, still with her fingers in Laura's pussy, slid up partially to embrace her, she came again, shuddering and gasping in Shayla's arms, looking straight into her eyes, as a stunning aftershock gripped her body.

"Auungghhhh! Oh god!" she moaned, writhing, shuddering in a fresh spasm of killing sexual pleasure.

Shayla smiled and held her. "Wow. You did it too. Two times. I think we really are good together."

Still panting, eyes glazed, Laura looked up at her. "I think so too. That's an understatement."

Shayla leaned on her elbow, tracing an invisible line up Laura's body with one long, slender black finger. "Anyone ever tell you that you look like that underwear model? The one that used to be in the Victoria's Secret catalogs? I can't remember her name."

"Me either," Laura shook her head.

"It's like being in bed with a movie star or something."

Laura shook her head again and laughed, beginning to recover from the dual blast of her orgasms. She pulled Shayla down and rubbed their naked bodies heatedly together.

"It's only me. I'm no movie star. But I love being in bed with you, Shayla."

"Can you stay the night? I'm almost already packed. We can just screw and screw. I want more. Hope you don't think I'm too greedy."

Without answering, Laura dropped her mouth to Shayla's small breasts and took one of them completely inside it again, not sucking hard, just tonguing the small, soft black nipple.

"You're not as greedy as I am for this wonderful body," she said, comically, her mouth completely stuffed with Shayla's breast. She released it, eyes smoking. "But I have to go to work in the morning."

Shayla hopped up on her knees, leaning to the side of the sofa. "I'll set the alarm clock in the bedroom for six a.m. Then you can drive home and change quick."

Laura grinned, reaching for her. "I accept your invitation. Come here, greedy."

They kissed deeply. "Are you hungry?" Shayla asked softly. "It's about seven. You haven't had dinner. I could fix something."

"I only have eyes and appetite for you, my darling," Laura said.

They slept—very little, much interrupted by exhilarating fucking—on the sofa with a blanket thrown over them, and by morning they were barely able to get up when Laura's alarm rang, so busy had they been during a night of prolonged and exhausting sex. Shayla pouted at the door.

"Do you ever get to New York?" she asked, morose.

Laura kissed her nose. "I will now," she said. She gave Shayla her business card. "Write or email me. I'll be there before two months are up. Promise."

There was even a tear in Shayla's eye as they said goodbye. And Laura, feeling some post-coïtal sadness too, reflected that often the best things were the briefest. On the other hand, could she possibly resist Shayla and New York?