The following night she and Randi did a repeat performance, as Laura had requested, only this time no spanking. In fact, though Laura knew from the intensity and excitement they had experienced together doing it that it was not a dead issue, the subject never even came up, except briefly when Laura took a slow, thorough tour of Randi's exquisite naked bottom with her lips and fingers. Their fucking had been deep and soulful on the second evening, and by the time Randi left, Laura was reassured that their relationship had mended itself, and that the damage done by that horrible witch Rhonda was behind them.

She had not thought very much about Stevie Archer, except as an angel who had brought Randi back to her bed by dallying again with Rhonda. She had had a couple of wild moments in bed with the former Playmate, but Stevie was unpredictable and dangerous, as the video tape episode had confirmed. How it had ever got into Rhonda's hands was still a mystery to Laura. And why Rhonda had forgiven Stevie was an even greater one. Would I? Laura wondered.

She is a kick. She's stunning, and has one of the most beautiful pussies I've ever seen. And bodies, for that matter. But there's something a little fickle about her. Maybe I recognize too much of myself in her. She's certainly bright, and loves to fuck fuck fuck.

Dreamily, sitting at home on her sofa with a glass of wine, admiring the view, Laura thought back to the times she and Steve Archer had fucked. In the other room, she still had the video they had shot together in bed, while fucking, a video that actually showed the beautiful Stevie in the throes of a very powerful orgasm. You could also hear Laura coming seconds later, but by then she had dropped the camera and there was nothing but chaotic images of jumbled flesh and bed coverings.

Thinking about it aroused Laura. All day she had felt quite satiated after her two nights with Randi, warmly contented, wondering why she had felt the desire to be so promiscuous in the past. And yet, right now she was thinking, longingly too, of Stevie. She must be in town, if she's back with Rhonda. I wonder where she is. Staying at Rhonda's house? Would they dare?

Two days later, she found out. Stevie left a message on Laura's home voice mail.

"Guess who this is? Voice out of the past. Your friend Rhonda and I made up. We're lovebirds again, aren't you jealous? As long as we don't mention you, everything is okay. Or video tapes. Of anything. Some company sent her one advertising a cruise to Alaska, and she destroyed it. Right before my eyes. With a hammer. She's a little jealous. I guess I gave her reason. But she's a sweetie. Sure loves me to pieces, I can tell you that. Anyway, I'm not supposed to see you, but I was thinking. We might be able to sneak in a moment without her knowing. I'm only here for a few days, then flying to Rome for a shoot. I'm staying down on Sutter Street at Campton Square. It's one of those elegant boutique hotels, you know? Where the lobby is sort of like a funeral parlor for very rich people, and the glassware costs as much as a Mercedes. You know where it is? Why don't you give me a call? [She whispered.] Just a quickee. Laura, I don't think you can get what we had very often in life. Just a quickee, okay. I miss you. Be a dear. Give me a call. [Whispering even lower.] I meant it, nobody ever made me come like that."

Then she hung up. Laura was floored. She had to sit down and listen to the message twice over, enjoying every last nuance of it.

But she had to think it over, very carefully. She was already in enough deep shit with Rhonda without wading in further. There was the Stevie-video tape incident, which she had just been having a scintillating reverie about. Then there was April. Dear April, Laura thought, I seem to have forgotten all about her. Then there was Randi, whom Laura had just won back, and of course the long-term sporadic relationship both she and Rhonda had with Yvette.

Oh god, it's so complicated! Laura thought. How can I call Stevie? It's so risky. If Rhonda found out, she might really decide to get me fired this time. And she could probably do it. Rhonda was very powerful, and Laura had seen even Ada, her own boss, quail inwardly at the mention of her name.

So how was it that a few minutes later Laura found herself breathily speaking into the phone: "Do you have a Ms. Stevie Archer registered there?"

She could not stop herself. Her hand seemed to reach, independent of her will, for the phone. Fortunately, Stevie was not there. Did she want to leave a message?

"Uh . . . tell her to call 473-6203. Thanks."

Laura hung up the phone, blushing hotly. Oh god, how could I do that? I'm such a shit, telling Randi how much I love her, then doing this, leaving a message for this girl who's her chief rival with Rhonda! And I do love her! How could I have done that? What would Randi feel like to know that not only Rhonda but me too, I've slept with the Playmate! The 'fake Neegro,' as Randi calls her. I wonder why she calls her fake. God, it would kill her! It would kill me, if I were her! I should let Stevie and Rhonda have their fun, as long as I get Randi back. I can't be fooling around with Stevie, it's just so nasty and sleazy of me!

And yet, she waited for the phone to ring. All night. When it didn't, she realized that Stevie was right now, this minute, in Rhonda's bed, writhing and panting, her lean, gorgeous dark brown body stretching and quivering, her beautiful pussy oozing and swollen and puckering for Rhonda's lips.

She went to bed but couldn't sleep, and when she finally did get to sleep, the phone rang. Squinting at her clock radio, she saw that it was two thirty-four a.m.

"Yes . . . who is this?" she croaked into the phone.

"Is this the g-spot girl?" Stevie's teasing, outrageously droll voice came over the wire. "Gee! Oh, gee again!"

"Oh god, it's you."

"Oh god is right. If you had only called earlier, you would have saved me from another dreadful corporate party with the blonde bombshell."

"Isn't she afraid people will begin to talk?" Laura asked. "Like, maybe they'll start to think she likes girls?"

"Laura," Stevie said with elaborate patience. "Don't make me say this again. I was a Playmate. Everybody wants to do me. They only envy Rhonda. It gives her extra caché, believe it or not."

Laura had no trouble believing, at least, that everybody wanted to do Stevie. Just the sound of her voice was infectious, and Laura could see that beautiful baby face in her mind's eye.

"I have to sleep," she said groggily. "I have to get up early."

"Go back to sleep, g-spot girl. I'll still be here tomorrow. I'm not meeting Sweetie Pie until about eight, for dinner. She has a prior appointment, with her investment councilor. Come by and have a drink with me."

"What about the quickee?" Laura said, teasing her, still groggy with sleep but warmly tantalized by the thought of getting naked with Stevie again.

"We'll see." Stevie was playfully distant. "Only if you're nice . . . and if you bring me something. A flower, maybe."

"Gee," Laura said, deadpan. "I'll see if I can think of something. Good night."

"Good night, Laura," Stevie breathed.

Laura drifted back to sleep and had dreams—not of Stevie, which surprised her greatly in the morning—of April. April was teasing her, telling Laura how Rhonda treated her, then dropping her bra so Laura could see and crave her huge jet-black nipples. She awoke feeling tingly all over, smiling, wondering if in her subconscious mind the connection between April and Stevie was their link with Rhonda. The mind works in funny ways, she reflected as she dressed. I must give that darling April a call. Gosh, those beautiful big nipples! And she's so sweet to me these days.

All day at work she hummed with happiness.

I fall in love too easily,
I fall in love too fast . . .

I'm not in love with either of them, though, she thought. Not really. I'll have to find another song. I adore both Stevie and April, but it's not like . . . Randi. Jonelle. Charise.

She did have to flirt surreptitiously with Ada, and she and Randi exchanged several deeply meaningful smiles, but even her complex feelings for them both could not interfere with her sense of well-being, and her delighted anticipation of the end of the day. True, once or twice she did feel a twinge of guilt, when shooting electrified sexual glances Randi's way, by the background realization that promptly after work she was going down to the fancy hotel, hoping wildly to fuck with Stevie for a couple of hours before Stevie's date with Rhonda.

I just have to shut that part of my life off from this part, she told herself. After all, Randi was letting that handsome Nate fuck her just the night before we got back together. It's not as if she was pure and I'm the only one who is bad. But the twinge of guilt would not go away. I'm a scum and a shit, Laura thought at five o'clock, as she was leaving her office. I love Randi, but I can't wait to bury my face in that gorgeous Playmate's crotch.

Oh god, I can't! she thought. I can't wait! Since Stevie had insisted she bring something, Laura had grabbed the huge double dildo from under her bed that morning and tried to stuff it into her handbag, where it would not fit. Instead, she took her gym bag, the one in which she often packed her tennis dress when going over to Walnut Creek to 'play tennis' with Ada. It was a stylish gym bag, and not too big, and the dildo fit fine inside of it. Just carrying it down the busy city streets made her feel deliciously wicked. Wouldn't all you people just die to know what I've got in this bag? she smiled.

In the funereal lobby of the expensive hotel, she asked the clerk to phone up to Stevie's room and tell her that Laura was waiting in the lounge. A few minutes later, Stevie appeared, wearing faded (very tight) jeans, a Giants baseball cap, and a Hard Rock Café tee-shirt. Even though Laura knew she was twenty-six or seven, she looked all of sixteen, incredibly fetching, her auburn hair a cloud of glimmering curls, her slim hips and cute little butt drawing the stares of Laura and the sparse, dignified hotel staff.

"Hi, Laura. Long time no see. Unless you've been watching the notorious video. Then you've been seeing me."

Stevie gave forth some throaty giggles.

"How did you know I've got it?" Laura asked, drinking in Stevie with her eyes.

Stevie was rather full of herself, Laura was reminded. She was impossibly gorgeous, and all her life people had been evidently fawning over her and dying to fuck her, as she had reminded Laura on the phone. Who wouldn't feel like she was the top, the summit, the apex of desire? Laura knew people, male and female, wanted her too, but it was surely nothing like Stevie felt.

"Rhonda stole it out of my luggage. That's how she got her hands on it. When we were having our last fight—I thought she was going to kill me, by the way—she said she was going to confront you with it. So . . . you did get it? At least she didn't hammer it to smithereens like she did the Alaska cruise video. I almost got my eye put out by a piece of flying plastic."

"She must be hotter than a pistol when she gets mad," Laura said wryly, making a very plain allusion to Rhonda's sexual performance, curious, waiting to see how Stevie would respond.

Stevie smiled tightly, her black eyes flickering with mischief. "Rhonda is very sweet," she said in soft, measured tones. Then she leaned close and whispered. "Much sweeter than you are. Why don't you come upstairs and show me how sweet you can really be. Maybe you can out-sugar her."

Laura was so aroused she could barely speak. "You know I can," she whispered back.

"Promises, promises. What's in the bag?"

"A surprise."

Stevie took Laura's elbow and steered her in the direction of the elevators. Laura knew the hotel staff must sense the sexual electricity in the air. She and Stevie were clearly not heading upstairs to Stevie's room to play Scrabble.

Laura was very impressed by the hotel, which was small and frightfully elegant, with expensive furnishings and paintings everywhere, thick, deep, burgundy-colored carpets, ormolu mirrors. Stevie's room looked like the bedchamber of a Renaissance queen. There was a small settee and a rosewood armoire that looked like a brand-new antique. Laura set her gym bag down on the expensively-upholstered settee.

"How can you afford to stay in a place like this?" she asked Stevie, sweeping her hand around the incredible room.

Stevie winked. "I got a big divorce settlement. Didn't I tell you that guy with the video camera was a Hollywood producer? Big bucks. I don't stay in shabby little chain hotels. Life is short."

Laura found herself reflecting that this was why Rhonda and Stevie got along so well together: spoiled rotten by money and power. On the other hand, Stevie was wildly desirable in her perfect, imperious, haughty model's way, as if she owned the world and its treasure and could have her pick of bed partners but had chosen Laura especially to be here.

Laura smiled. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Stevie tilted her head coquettishly. "I'm sorry I never called. But I could never forget you after what we did."

Laura drew closer. Stevie's face captivated her, an exquisitely beautiful model's face, small chin, high cheekbones, narrow nose. Her features were really more Caucasian than African, and as Laura thought about it, she realized that Lorrie's were too. She recalled teasing Randi, in bed a few nights ago, that she should have been a model. And yet Randi did not have these fine, model's features that Playboy apparently wanted in its girls. But for Laura, Randi's face was a needle of the heart, full of such piercing beauty that she could quake inwardly just from looking at it.

Stevie's, though arrestingly beautiful, did not have quite that effect on her. Too perfect? Too much the popular stereotype? At any rate, it had no effect on Laura's desire for her. She was very beguiling, as well as being incredibly beautiful. Laura touched her cheek.

"I sure would like to have more than a quickee," she whispered.

Stevie leaned close, looking sultry and dangerous. "What's in the bag?" she breathed.

Laura went to the settee and opened the gym bag. She took out the huge double dildo and dangled it between them from one hand. Stevie's eyes widened as they traveled up and down the long, fat shaft, lingering on the bulbous cock heads that terminated both ends of it. Apparently without even knowing it, she began shaking her head slowly.

"Laura, let me tell you something. When I was in college, I had a boyfriend. He was a brother. His thing was so big that I thought he was going to knock over the furniture with it just coming to the bed. Byron, that was his name. God, I haven't thought of him for years. I had to break it off with him. It just hurt too much. Having that thing in me was more than I could take. I have a small, pretty little pussy. Not deep. Tight and small and pretty. You even said so yourself."

Laura nodded, smiling. Stevie had a hall of fame pussy. Laura remembered having thought that they should have put the girl's exquisite pussy on the cover of Playboy instead of her face.

"Well, I can't handle it," Stevie said, indicating the swaying, dangling double dildo. She made a face. "I don't even see how you can stand to have it in you. You have a pretty little pussy too. You must be sleeping with some girls who have some big, big twats. Shoot, one of the nice things about sleeping with you and Rhonda is that I don't have to have a big old thing stuffed up me, know what I mean?"

Her black eyes again sparkled with familiar mischief. Then she pouted. Stevie had the whole range of seductive wiles at her disposal.

"Anyway, you haven't even kissed me yet. Now put that thing back. All I want you to do is tie me to the bed and g-spot me until the hotel staff sends for the police."

She grinned. Laura, making a show of reluctance, slipped the gigantic dildo back in the bag. "I think you're turning down a great opportunity," she teased. "This thing will give you climaxes you never dreamed of."

Stevie continued to pout. "Give them to your other girlfriends, then."

"I didn't bring the rope," Laura said, staring straight and seriously at her.

Stevie's mouth dropped a little. "You have rope, don't you. God, I knew it. You are too wonderful, Laura. Well, we'll just have to use something else. What about towels, or sheets?"

Laura gave her a hot, smoldering look. "I didn't have to tie you up to g-spot you before."

"I know. I just sounds so deliciously kinky. Nobody ever tied me up before."

Laura looked down at Stevie's tight jeans. Stevie had very long, thin legs.

"Those might work . . . if you can get them off. They looked like they were painted on you."

"Very funny." Stevie did a pirouette. "Don't you like my pretty little ass? It drives men to slobbering groans."

"I'll bet."

Laura watched while Stevie began slowly to remove the jeans. She unzipped them and slithered out of them inch by inch, letting Laura glimpse her smooth dark brown skin, her white panties, her sleek thighs.

"Rhonda too," she whispered.

"I'll bet," Laura echoed herself, feeling the pulse begin to beat in her throat. "You're impossibly beautiful."

"Am I the most beautiful girl you ever went to bed with?"

"Oh . . . definitely."

By now Stevie was bending down, the jeans nearly at her ankles. Laura was surprised to see that instead of sexy bikini panties, she wore normal full-sized cotton ones. Somehow this contrasted with the glamorous image she projected to make her even more desirable.

Stevie stepped out of her jeans and held them up. "Will they work?"

Laura took the jeans and examined the length of each leg, nodding.

Stevie beamed. "God, I'm so excited, I'm wet."

"Me too," Laura acknowledged, beginning to remove her own clothes.

Stevie stripped off the Hard Rock Café tee shirt. Seeing her in her white underwear, her dark, smooth, lean body gleaming and silky and stunning, made Laura's blood race. Stevie pulled down the bed spread all the way to the end of the bed, making it a stripped platform for love.

Both of them now shed the rest of their underwear quickly and lay down facing one another on the mattress. Laura still had the jeans but had to drop them, so eager was she to clasp Stevie's small, gorgeous breasts in her hands.

"I love these," she murmured, running her thumbs across the small, already hard black nipples.

Stevie had enchanting breasts, a little smaller than Laura's but in every way perfect, upswept, in fact more upswept that any Laura had ever seen, her small, protruding nipples really above center and pointing at the ceiling, or in this case, at Laura's face, Laura's mouth.

"I know you do," Stevie whispered, acknowledging her own beauty, which it was useless to deny. "Now, are you going to fuck me harder and better than any guy ever could, or Rhonda either?"

"Yes, but not until I can feast on these."

She kissed her way down Stevie's smooth, dark brown upper chest to the girl's breasts, cradling them in her palms, licking Stevie's black nipples until Stevie was panting and squirming.

"Oh Laura . . . ohhhhh Laura! Oh yes! Oh god, if you don't suck them I'll kill you! Yes! Ungghh! Yes!"

Laura sucked the small buds one by one, licking and tonguing and lip-pinching them, then sucking them completely into her mouth, and some of each small breast too, sucking gently at first, then harder, not letting go. When each nipple was the consistency she wanted it—wet, shiny, rubbery, erect, pointing—she stopped sucking them and twirled them, gently pinching them, in her fingers instead, sliding up to kiss Stevie for the first time.

Stevie was already in a sexual frenzy, and they kissed heatedly, passionately, drinking one another, their tongues stabbing and coiling together.

"You better tie me up before I make you fuck me right now," Stevie panted, her eyes glazed, wild with excitement.

"You have to bite into something when you come," Laura said. "We really don't want the hotel staff in here. I'm going to make you come a dozen times."

Stevie's eyes rolled up in anticipation. Then she saw a small satin pillow at the foot of the bed. "That," she pointed with her eyes.

Laura retrieved it. "Are you kidding? This thing cost a fortune."

"Shit, for what I'm paying they could buy a whole warehouse of them," Stevie panted. "Hurry, Laura. I want it. I'm dying for it."

Quickly, using the legs of Stevie's pants, Laura tied her wrists together over her head with one and then both wrists to the bedpost with the other. Stevie had claimed to be a slow comer, and indeed did take a little longer than many of Laura's lovers to reach an orgasm, but from the hot, pulsing look in the girl's dark eyes and the contorted sexual turmoil on her beautiful face, Laura guessed that it wouldn't take her long this time. She was almost coming already, just from the excitement.

"Oh yes . . . oh yes!" she panted, squirming, her lean naked body twisting in the dim light caused by the heavy curtains, looking wildly erotic to Laura.

"Oh baby, I love your body," Laura murmured, kissing it everywhere, slowly descending, crouching between Stevie's spread thighs.

"Oh god, Laura, I want you to fuck me hard," Stevie panted. "Fuck me hard. Rhonda won't fuck me hard. She thinks I'm a china tea cup. Fuck me hard, please."

"Mmmm, anything you want, my darling," Laura purred, kissing her smooth, flat midriff, rising briefly to her small, perfect, upswept breasts again, taking each nipple into her mouth and sweetly tormenting it with fierce, hot sucking.

"Oh! Oh!" Stevie gasped, nearly losing control.

"Can I have your beautiful pussy now?" she purred again, looking up into Stevie's sexually desperate face.

It thrilled Laura to reduce these beautiful girls to such extremities of desperation, so that they were completely hers, completely in her sexual power, begging her with their eyes, and sometimes begging literally, wanting her to deliver them from this sweet, agonizing tension.

"Yes! Please!" Stevie panted. "You can have it! Please . . . Laura!"

"Oh honey . . . oh honey."

Laura kissed her way back down Stevie's lean, flexing body, sliding between her willowy legs, kissing the warm dark skin of her inner thighs, then lip-brushing the puckered miracle of her black-petalled cunt flower, all juicy and hot-pink inside, a shapely wet orifice of heaven to her invading tongue. Stevie was wrong; she did not have a small pussy, as some girls indeed had, a glimmering little opening within a dense bush, tight and sweet but not especially beautiful. She probably had a shallow one, if Byron's huge tool had hurt her so much, but the exterior of her pussy was as beautiful as it was possible for such an organ to be, with shapely, long, black cuntlips that enclosed in their wavy sinuosities a burbling, wet, inflamed fuck-cauldron of unsurpassed beauty, which now gave off a thick, heady aroma of erotic excitement that filled Laura's nostrils and made her blood sizzle.

Knowing she could not make Stevie have the killer string of orgasms she craved merely with her mouth, Laura still did not mean to be denied her opportunity to devour this beautiful, oozing blossom first, and she began by sliding her tongue into Stevie's pussy as deeply as it would go. Stevie yelped, and her lithe body did a brief, instinctive flip, jerking up off the mattress, then falling back, with Laura's mouth still glued to her aching slit.

"Oh Jesus!" Stevie gasped. "Yes!"

"Careful, darling," Laura warned. "Remember the pillow."

She began to lick and slurp and suck Stevie's beautiful pussy with unrestrained passion, knowing that Stevie might come, but that it would take at least one orgasm to prime the pump, that many more would follow it. Stevie, her arms tied together at the wrists above her head, writhed and twisted, her lovely lean body straining, her ribcage surfacing below her small, swirling breasts, her flesh flexing provocatively because of her unnatural physical position. The tangy, thick nectars that flowed from her hot pussy oozed over Laura's tongue, and she spread the girl's beautifully-shaped pussy lips apart, exposing more of the glistening, deeply pink trench, running the flat of her eager tongue over every last inch of it, and sucking in Stevie's juices.

"Ungghhh! Oh shit oh god Laura!" Stevie whimpered, her body arching and quivering.

Laura's tongue had not yet even touched Stevie's clit, a tiny little bead though now somewhat enlarged, peaking out tentatively from a sculptured, upside down v-shaped flap of glossy black skin at the very top of her pussy. For a brief second Laura marveled at the tiny thing, so small and delicate compared with the fat, bulbous clits of both Randi and Ada, which she had been sucking so hungrily only recently. Oh honey, get ready, she thought. Your little berry is going to explode with happiness.

"Oh! Oh!" Stevie continued to half-pant, half-whimper, her lovely lean body writhing and straining, her hips beginning to gyrate faster now as Laura's licking and kissing became more heated.

Laura slid her hands under the girl's smooth, round buns and squeezed them while at the same time lifting her tongue up to Stevie's clit and flicking it rapidly. This was enough to tip Stevie over the edge. She began to come almost immediately, and Laura was alarmed to hear a fierce howl of ecstacy traveling up from her lungs.

"AAWWONNNGGGGHHIIEE!" she began to cry out, before Laura quickly freed one of her own hands from Stevie's delicious naked bottom and reached up to grab the pillow, pushing it into Stevie's face.

In their sexual excitement leading up to this moment, neither one had realized that when Stevie came she would be unable to grasp the pillow because both of her hands were tied. By this time, however, Stevie was past caring. She had a truly wrenching, toe-curling climax, whinnying helplessly into the pillow that Laura had stuffed into her face, her lovely, lithe body surging and stiffening, then shuddering and undulating as wave after wave of coming shook her.

Ordinarily, Laura would have embraced her and let her come down gently from this pulverizing moment, but this was the opportunity she could not afford to squander. While Stevie was still plateauing on her first orgasm, Laura slid two fingers up into the warm, greasy channel of her pussy and, turning her hand up, began probing for the secret spot, knowing that it was definitely there since she had once before given Stevie a killing string of orgasms just like the one she was now shooting for.

"Oh! Ohhhhh!" Stevie was still sighing, stunned by the force of her first orgasm, but surrendering her body completely to Laura, knowing that even more crushing bliss was on the way.

Now, still probing Stevie's pussy with her fingers, Laura slid up her body, kissing her face, her cheek, her mouth, devouring her mouth, looking into her dazed, glassy eyes, looking and feeling for a sign. Am I near? Am I close? Can I feel you twitch?

"You want to come some more?" she half-teased, delirious with sexual passion and fierce desire for this beautiful girl and her delectable, writhing body. "Can I make you come harder? Do you want to come again?"

"Oh god . . . yes! Ungghhhh!" Stevie groaned, her eyes imploring Laura. "Oh god, yes, Laura. Please! Anngghhh! Oh!"

Stevie seemed to be waiting, hoping for Laura to find the trigger too, shocked and half-hypnotized by her climax. But then Laura saw a brief, split-second jolt of recognition in Stevie's face, and in another split-second felt her body jerk. Both of them knew in an instant that a hurricane of orgasms was about to unload on the quivering, stiffening girl.

"Oh god, yes. Now," Laura panted to her, probing the patch of flesh inside Stevie's wet, clinging pussy harder with her fingertips.

"Aaunngghrrrhhuuggnhhmm!" Stevie moaned, trying to turn her face back again into the silk pillow but quickly overwhelmed by a series of wild spasms as another orgasm engulfed her.

From this point Laura could only hold on for the ride. With her fingers still embedded deep in Stevie's pulsing, spasming pussy, pressing and rubbing the magic spot, she cradled the girl's shoulders in her other arm and gently pushed Stevie's face over into the pillow each time another sharp convulsion of white-hot rapture seized the girl's body, enchanted by the repeated looks of ecstacy passing over Stevie's beautiful face as her long, violent moans poured out. Stevie came twice, and then a third orgasm seemed to erupt almost from nowhere, through the center of the second one, an explosion that left her gasping, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

Scarcely had this orgasm begun to wane than two more followed it in quick succession, this time devastating, crippling shocks, as if Stevie were being electrocuted by a kind of scorching, galvanic sexual pleasure that she had never known until now, and that Laura had seen infrequently herself. Stevie's body twitched and flipped and strained and jerked in wild, spastic leaps and horrific, convulsive archings, her lean flesh quivering helplessly as almost unbearable pleasures wracked her.

After this, she appeared to be unable to have any more orgasms, her body collapsing and sagging against Laura's, her breath still labored and her eyes swirling in a hot turmoil as the sweet spasms of her final climax slowly subsided. She had had five orgasms in a row, each more powerful than the last, following the first one. Six orgasms had left her barely able to open her eyes as Laura reached up to untie the twisted legs of the pants she had used to tie Stevie's wrists to the bed post.

With Stevie's arms free, Laura embraced her, rubbing the full length of her own naked body against Stevie's, kissing her neck, groping for her lovely small breasts, sliding one thigh between Stevie's and rubbing it up against Stevie's pussy, for some reason unable to stop swarming all over Stevie, wanting to fuck her again, to keep fucking her, even though Stevie seemed slack and spent and destroyed from her six climaxes.

"Oh Laura . . . ohhhhhh Laura!" Stevie moaned.

"I want you," Laura panted. "I still want you. I want you again. Can you come again?"

Stevie's hands came up now to caress Laura's naked back, and her body undulated under Laura's.

"Oh Laura . . . I don't think so," she murmured softly. "I came so much . . . so hard."

"I think I can make you come again," Laura breathed into her ear, feeling Stevie's warm, slippery pussy lips splayed against the bare muscle of her thigh.

But it wasn't thigh-fucking her that she had in mind. Her hands roamed down the girl's squirming, delicious body to her ass, cupping and squeezing the small, firm moons, her mind quickly focusing on the little back-door love hole between them.

"Let me make you come," Stevie panted, suddenly becoming less passive, embracing Laura more heatedly, even rolling Laura onto her side, her hands rising to Laura's breasts. "You must need to come, Laura," she panted. "After that. Didn't it excite you?"

"Oh god, yes," Laura confessed.

Stevie dropped her mouth to Laura's breasts, kissing them passionately, sucking Laura's nipples in a heated frenzy, more excited than Laura had ever seen her, even after coming six times.

"Oh, I wish my boobs were just this big, just this size," Stevie panted, slurping and stabbing Laura's throbbing, wet, erect nipples with her busy tongue. "They're so beautiful."

Laura could feel the overwhelming uprush of a shocking orgasm on the way. Fucking this beautiful woman and making her come six times had the effect of winding Laura up like a spring, and now Stevie, by hungrily sucking her aching nipples, had released the lever that held her taut. Not wanting it to stop, she saw herself as if it were someone else's arms pushing Stevie's head down, further down her body.

"Oh honey . . . I'm going to come so hard," she gasped to Stevie. "Suck my pussy . . . hurry!"

"Yes!" Stevie gave in, sliding quickly down Laura's undulating body, slipping between Laura's yawning thighs. "Come to Mama. I'm going to lick your pretty pink pussy to heaven."

Having learned from both Rhonda and Laura, Stevie was good. She knew where to touch each sensitive part of Laura's streaming pussy with the tip of her tongue, slithering it everywhere, tormenting Laura's clit until Laura was coming in only seconds. Laura bucked and twisted, feeling a hot cloud bloom inside her body, feeling a scream of terrible release fight its way up her windpipe toward her throat.

"Oh god! The pillow . . . oh god, the pillow!" she gasped desperately, interrupting the progress of her scream with a plea to Stevie.

A guttural, delighted giggle erupted from Stevie's mouth, though she never paused in her devotions, still rapidly flicking Laura's clit with her tongue. With one long arm, she reached up, patting the bed to find it, then drew the small pillow over to Laura's hand.

"Here. Quick, honey, you're coming already!"

"I know! Ungghhhmmpphh! Oh! Oh Stevie! Auungghhhhhh! Owwwngghhhhh! Unghh! Angghh!"

Laura came so hard and so fast that she could only push her face halfway into the pillow, and most of her helpless cries escaped into the small hotel room. Stevie made no further attempt to muffle them, and giggled even more, still licking Laura's pussy, as Laura convulsed and twisted, her pelvis shuddering mightily as the spasms of her climax shook her body.

As she began to unclench and slacken, Stevie slid up to kiss her. "Maybe I can find your g-spot and pay you back," she purred, caressing Laura's still-quivering naked body lovingly.

Laura smiled wanly at her, still gulping as several aftershocks struck her. She knew it was possible. Kim had done it.

"If you have time . . . we can try it," she whispered hoarsely, having groaned her voice away during her climax.

She saw Stevie's face suddenly tense up. "What time is it?"

"I don't know. Probably six-thirty or so."

"Oh shit, Rhonda will be here at seven!"

Stevie hopped off the bed, still totally naked, impossibly gorgeous, her small, uptilted breasts jiggling, small black nipples gleaming in the soft light. Watching her, and letting her eyes roam around the small hotel room, Laura realized that it was so sumptuously furnished, with heavily-padded furniture and thick curtains, that her screams had probably not been audible out in the hallway.

She watched Stevie gathering up clothes and underwear, her own and Laura's, tossing them on the bed. "I don't mean to rush you, but—"

"I know," Laura said quietly, leaning forward to pluck up her bra. "Rhonda is sweet. She loves you."

"She doesn't fuck like you, but you can't have everything."

Stevie smiled with meaningful directness at Laura, who said nothing but slowly continued to dress. Stevie stashed her own clothes in her open suitcase and got a thin, ravishingly sexy dress out of the closet. By the time she got it on, she looked like she had stepped out of the pages of Vogue, or Elle. She stood in front of the mirror, brushing out the hundreds of curls of her glossy auburn hair.

"Anyway," she went on, "I get the feeling you didn't learn that g-spot stuff just from fooling around with a few girls. You like to fuck too much, Laura. I don't think I could trust you."

Laura gave her a hard, amused stare. "You trust Rhonda?"

Stevie nodded. "More than I would trust you. She isn't as . . . ingenious as you," she winked at Laura through the mirror. "Or as flat-out horny. She loves me for a lot more reasons than my pretty black pussy."

Want to bet? Laura wanted to say, but she let it pass. It would be too mean, and maybe Rhonda did.

She found herself wondering about the hair, which was so unlike that of any black woman she had every known intimately before. Randi had focused on it immediately. That fake Neegro with the red hair, she had said. Laura thought the 'fake' part probably had to do with Stevie's chiseled, unAfrican features, her thin nose and lips. But the hair was different.

"How do you get your hair to look like that?" she asked calmly, cinching up her belt, now almost completely re-dressed and ready to leave.

"Partly just luck, partly a mysterious secret," Stevie smiled sassily at her, again through the mirror. She continued brushing. "Ever hear of Lucrezia Borgia?"

Laura nodded. "Daughter of a pope, in the middle ages. Had a son by him, fucked everybody else, right? And people think we're bad today."

Stevie nodded. "She was famous for her hair. A hairdresser in L.A. that I know found her secret, which is a special shampoo made with honey, black sulphur, and alum. Aluminum sulfate or something like that, I think. Anyway, I get it from him. Before I started using it, my hair was brown. Just brown. Not quite as soft."

Laura's sexual desire was growing again as she watched Stevie brush her hair, and listened to her speak about her secret shampoo. She went over to her and brushed the billows of hair aside from the back of her neck, then leaned forward and kissed it lingeringly.

"I want you again," she whispered. "I never get enough."

Stevie turned and put the hair brush down. "I don't know how I can want it again after coming that much," she murmured, kissing Laura's mouth in a long, romantic way. "I'm going to Rome tomorrow. We have to wait."

"Aren't you afraid Rhonda will smell that you've been fucking?"

"Can you smell me?"

"Yes. You came six times."

Stevie's eyes rolled up. "Oh god, don't remind me. It was heaven. You are the devil, Laura. Doing that to me. Now, if we don't want a scene, you better skedaddle before she gets here."

Laura felt a little sadness grip her at being shuttled out the door like this. Especially so that the atrocious Rhonda could waltz in and take over. But she tried to be resigned and dignified. She watched Stevie spray expensive perfume behind her ears and into her crotch to disguise the smell of rutting that was left over from their exuberant fucking. Then Stevie walked her to the door and kissed her.

"Take the stairs. It's only two flights. What if she's coming up in the elevator?"

"Good thing I love to do it with you," Laura replied ruefully. "I wouldn't take this from just anybody."

"See," Stevie smiled brightly. "You love me too, in your way. You don't want me to get in any more trouble."

"Call me when you get back from Rome?"

"Of course, darling," Stevie breathed. "I still have to find your little trigger and return the favor. Sorry we got cut short this time."

But Laura, as she walked down the stairs in the echoing stairwell, clutching its iron railing, didn't really know if Stevie meant it.