Laura ran into Sara while browsing at Saks, after work.  As was getting to be routine, Makeeda had been home from Japan only about four weeks before winging off again to appear at the North Sea Jazz Festival in Holland.  Her star was definitely on the rise, and yet she and Laura had little time to share together.  Trying not to feel lonely, Laura dawdled in the city after work most days; anything to postpone going home.  In this mood she was especially vulnerable to the powerful emotions that hit her when she saw Sara in Saks. 

She was at first tempted to sidle out of the store slyly, so that Sara would not see her.  But Sara looked up before Laura could move and caught her eye.

"Laura."

"Sara."  Long, painful silence, accompanied by awkward staring.  "I . . . I didn't know you were a 'Saks' kind of person."

That sounded awful, Laura knew.  It sounded like she was saying 1) I didn't think I'd risk running into you here, and 2) You don't usually shop for such fancy and expensive threads. 

"I'm not."  Sara looked around and then made a face, crossing her eyes.  "I came here thinking you might come here."

This was for some reason even more embarrassing for Laura.  She blushed deeply.

"Don't blush, Laura," Sara said protectively.  "It's just a joke.  I only work two blocks from here."

It was true.  450 Sutter, the medical-dental building where Sara worked, was only a few blocks from Saks.  She could very well be there, as Laura was, for a little recreational after work shopping.  How are we going to get beyond this awkward moment? Laura wondered.  She herself was feeling a terrible, bittersweet pinch of longing, mixed with the same turbulent sexual desire she supposed she would always have on seeing Sara, in whatever context, and wondered if Sara were feeling something like it too.

After a few moments of staring uncomfortably at each other, Sara broke the ice.  "Come out on the sidewalk and quit staring at me," she said, making another face.  "You're making me feel like a freak."

Laura followed her out of the store.  "You certainly don't look like a freak," she mumbled gracelessly.  "You look . . . good.  Great, in fact."

Sara smiled, and Laura did detect a flicker of that same bittersweet longing she herself was feeling in the smile.  After all, how could we not feel that way about each other? she reasoned.  We had life-altering sex in each other's arms for over a year. 

"Thank you," Sara said calmly.  "You too."  They looked at the traffic.  Things, it seemed to Laura, were not much less uncomfortable outside the store. 

"Should we go get a drink?" Laura suggested. 

"Don't you have to get home?" Sara said, pointedly.  "Aren't you . . . involved?"

"What makes you think that?"  Laura blushed.  Why was she lying?  She had no reason to lie about it, about her relationship with Makeeda.  She was proud.  She was even wearing a gold wedding ring, which Sara noticed and pointed to.  "Oh . . . that."

"It's that woman at the restaurant, isn't it," Sara said calmly, without emotion.  "La Rondine.  I saw you looking at her.  And her looking back."

Now Laura was so flustered and confused that she really wanted to flee.  Don't torture me this way! she wanted to scream at Sara.  I can't help it if I fell in love with her!  You were with that . . . Sheena!

She swallowed, looked away momentarily, and got control of herself.  "How is Sheena?" she asked deliberately.

Sara's eyes actually clouded up for a moment, though whether it was over Sheena or over the mistakes she may have made that resulted in losing Laura, Laura couldn't tell.  "She moved to Atlanta.  She works for the CDC.  She always wanted to, and . . . they offered her the job.  She had to go."

By now the throbbing emotion deep inside Laura had turned from bittersweet longing to a raging sorrow and pure physical hunger.  "You didn't want to go with her?" she asked, elaborately making conversation in the effort to control her desire.

"I wasn't in love with Sheena," Sara said evenly, letting it hang there.

"Come.  Let me buy you a drink.  We both need one."

"I can't drink.  I have to drive home.  You do too.  You moved, right?"

"How did you know?"

"I . . ."  Sara looked away as if embarrassed, then back at Laura.  "I drove by there once . . . hoping I might see you.  We could talk.  There was a Filipino couple moving in."

"I moved across the bay," Laura said after a slight pause. 

Sara made another face, but this time instead of being funny it was inexpressibly sad.  Laura felt it was sad in an unintended way, and she looked across the street at Union Square briefly, embarrassed.  "You better hurry home to her, then," Sara said softly.  "She might be waiting."

"Don't be nasty, Sara," Laura said, but not sharply.  "She's out of town.  She's in Holland."

Sara appeared to be considering whether to pursue this information out of politeness, or whether to just turn and walk away.  She looked suddenly desolate, and at the same time infinitely desirable, more desirable even than she had looked the first time Laura saw her in the dentist's office. 

"I want to talk to you, Sara," Laura murmured.  "I don't want to go home.  I want to talk."

"We don't have much to talk about," Sara sniffed.

"Maybe not, but I don't want to leave you."

Sara's eyes were watering, but she didn't want to let Laura see it.  "Might as well come to my place," she said, almost philosophically, resigned to it.  "We can talk.  I have a bottle of wine.  We shouldn't . . . you know, but we could."

"I know we shouldn't," Laura acknowledged.

"You remember how to get there?" Sara smiled sadly.

"How could I ever forget?"

 

 

Half an hour later they were sitting on Sara's sofa, raising their glasses.  Laura felt the need to make a toast.  She actually had butterflies, as if they had never sat together like this before, feeling the imminence of a sexual tornado in the room.  "To . . . the great times we had.  Really great times."

As soon as the words came out, she knew she had made a grievous mistake.  Whereas Sara had seemed the one who was vulnerable to tears while they were standing on the sidewalk outside Saks, now Laura unaccountably welled up and spilled over.  She had to set her wine glass down as her body was suddenly wracked with shocking sobs, and tears streamed down her face.

And then the sobbing was gone as quickly as it had started, but not before Sara had set her glass down too and embraced Laura warmly, patting and smoothing her hair, comforting her.

"Don't, Laura . . . don't," she whispered.  "You don't have to cry."  She held Laura for a long time, then made a little stirring as if she were preparing to back off.

But Laura did not want to leave this embrace.  She could feel Sara's warmth, and her breath.  She wrapped her arms around Sara too.  Her quick flood of tears had rubbed off on Sara's cheek, which was wet and shiny.  Sara's fantastic pillowy lips were only an inch or so from hers, and she could not prevent herself from pressing her mouth into them and kissing Sara with sharp, searching passion.  At first Sara did not kiss back, as if she were ambivalent over this dangerous moment, but then she did, her fingers digging into Laura's flesh through her clothes as her tongue met Laura's and her lips moved aggressively.

"Ohhhh . . . Sara," Laura panted. 

"Laura, we can't," Sara panted back.  She looked very honestly and frankly into Laura's eyes.  "We'll hate ourselves afterward."

"No we won't!"

"Yes," Sara nodded.  "We will."

Laura knew she was right.  She also knew there was nothing that could keep them from it, and she could see in Sara's swirling dark eyes that Sara knew it too.  It was at this point that the tornado entered the room.  One second they were gazing dangerously into each other's eyes, and the next they were tearing each other's clothes off and kissing and sucking each other's flesh in a hot, almost savage frenzy.

Laura had fucked this way with a few others—lock the door and fall on each other in a reckless, flaming, rapist mania—but she did not recall ever having done it with Sara.  No matter, they were doing it now, as if the world would come to an end in only moments if they didn't quickly get naked and satisfy this horrible desire to merge their bodies. 

Sara wore her usual office attire, white shirt and black skirt, and Laura, who was always careful undressing another, as she hoped the other would be in undressing her, threw caution to the winds, even popping a few buttons off Sara's shirt in her haste to get it off.  It was only half-off, still stuck into Sara's skirt at the waist but gaping open down the front, when Laura reached inside and pulled Sara's bra straps down her shoulders as far as they would go, until they were stopped by the shirt sleeves, then forced down the cups of her bra and exposed the magnificent breasts she knew were hiding inside them. 

"Oh god, you are so beautiful!" she exclaimed, as if she had never seen Sara's naked breasts before.

Sara was working on Laura's clothes too, only slightly more carefully, and she too popped loose two buttons on Laura's silk blouse.  They were almost fighting each other to get naked.  Laura's hands were all over Sara's naked breasts, and she lowered her lips to one dark, bulbous nipple and quickly sucked it into her mouth.

"Oh!  Unhhh!" Sara half-moaned, looking down at her nipple disappearing between Laura's sucking lips.

Laura was delirious.  The feel of Sara's plump, soft, huge black nipple in her mouth made her briefly crazy, giddy with sexual heat, and though she tried not to be too rough, she ended up sinking her teeth into it a little too hard.   Sara yelped.

"Aiiyyeee!"  Then she suddenly laughed.  "Oh god, Laura, you made a flame flash up inside my pussy when you did that," she dissolved in laughter.

Laura held Sara's wet nipple loosely in her half-open mouth, looking up at her and smiling.  "I guess you liked it?"

"God yes."

"Let's go in your bedroom.  And get these clothes off."

Sara nodded.  "We shouldn't, though."

Laura pursed her lips.  "I know.  We shouldn't."  Again she took Sara's wet, beautiful, shiny black nipple into her mouth.  "Don't you want me?"

"Oh god, yes!"

They both jumped up from the sofa as if the apartment were on fire.  Most of the rest of their clothes were shed by the time they got to the bed.  Sara quickly ripped down the spread and the top sheet.  Her skirt was still half drooping around her thighs with Laura frantically trying to pushing it down to the floor.  Laura's bra fell loosely around her arms, and she still had on her panties.

They grabbed each other in this state, mostly undressed but still with a few pieces of underwear hanging from their bodies, and fell together on the bed.  Their mouths met in a fierce, wildly hungry kiss.  Laura twisted her body intentionally, wanting to feel Sara's flesh crushing into her, Sara's breasts mashing into hers.  She dropped her hands to Sara's substantial bottom and squeezed Sara's large, firm cheeks hard.

"Oh god, you have such a beautiful ass," she panted into Sara's neck, digging her fingers into the round, firm buns.

Sara was busy herself.  She now had dropped her mouth to Laura's breasts, and her hands too, and was mauling them with thirsty passion.  Laura's hands flittered up Sara's naked back to her head, which she pulled into her chest, pushing her breasts hard into Sara's face, panting, even whimpering excitedly.

"Mmmmnnggg!  Oh!  Mnnnggeeee!  Yes!  Yes!"

"Laura," Sara panted, looking up for a moment from Laura's saliva-wet nipples, her dark eyes pulsing and throbbing, "I dream of fucking with you.  I dream of it."

"Don't dream of it, honey," Laura panted wildly.  "Do it."

She rolled Sara onto her back and crouched over her, holding her arms by the wrists below each hand and kissing her ravenously, letting her breasts sway above Sara's and moving her upper body slightly so that the small, dangling globes brushed hers.  Then she moved up and dangled them directly in Sara's face again, almost daring her to assault them the way she had been doing before Laura had rolled her over like this.

Sara was eagerly up to the challenge.  Without the use of her hands, she could only chase Laura's swelling coral nipples with her lips, raising her head briefly off the sheet.  It was a game, but a deadly serious one since both of them were raging with sexual fire.  Soon Sara caught one aching nipple in her mouth and sucked it in deep, sucking so sharply that a gargled cry of incredible pleasure escaped from Laura's throat.

"Oh!  Unnggghmmmnngg!"

Sara did not relent.  Laura's physical pleasure was so intense that she could no longer hold Sara's wrists tightly with her hands, and Sara brought them up to Laura's dangling breasts, holding them and devouring them heatedly, moving her mouth back and forth from one throbbing nipple to the other.  This lasted for the longest time.  Laura threw her head back, exulting in the feel of Sara's searching mouth on her breasts.  When she could take it no more, she slid back down, pushing her wet breasts into Sara's smooth stomach while filling her own hands with Sara's beautiful globes and nearly swallowing Sara's big, swollen black nipples with her mouth.

Again, this went on for the longest time.  Laura had always worshipped Sara's gorgeous breasts and was lengthily taking her fill of them, sucking and kneading them slowly and passionately and nearly forever, unwilling to move on.  And Sara was used to enjoying Laura's breast-worship and made no effort to hurry her.  Instead, she gazed down serenely at Laura, her eyes rolling up when Laura sucked her nipples especially hard, her body sometimes undulating gently under Laura's as her sexual arousal heightened. 

Almost imperceptibly, their lower bodies began to move together in unison.  Sara had let her thighs gape to make to easier for Laura to settle between them, and their effortless rhythm brought their groins together without a real prior intent, simply as a result of their slow undulations.  They had tribbed often in the past, but never in this particular position, though Laura came slowly to realize that this was a natural for them, and she realized by looking up briefly into her eyes that Sara did too.

Laura had a slightly prominent pubic bone, which was why, in addition to its normal delights, she was always able to get pretty aroused by strap-on fucking her partner, and now she realized that it gave her an unexpected advantage here too, for the more she moved her pussy against Sara's, the more she could feel Sara's opening under the pressure, blossoming, spreading to let her in.  Sara did not have a long, thin-lipped pussy but a thick, meaty, plump one with pulpy, swelling lips that were more easily pried open and seemed to part like the petals of a flower to let Laura's buttery, slippery vulva, already slick with her own juice and Sara's, inside. 

"Oh god . . . honey . . ." she panted, overcome briefly by the sweet intensity of this intimate invasion, feeling her clit even touching the warm wet inner folds of Sara's blooming pussy.  "Ohhhhh . . . I'm really inside you . . ."

"Unhhhhh!" Sara gasped.  "I . . . know . . . oh god don't move for a second it's heaven!  Oh!"

They began kissing, their wet nipples now pressed together, their tongues slowly coiling, not moving their pelvises for fear of dissipating this sweet intensity of intimate connection. 

"I'm inside you," Laura repeated softly, panting, unable to control her panting.

The longer they remained in this position, the more the lubrication from each of their wet cunts seemed to encourage them to pick up the pace, to actually begin fucking, instead of simply remaining stationary in sublime enjoyment of this union.  Laura began to move a little, gyrating forward, sliding her pussy up inside Sara's until her clit actually met and mashed briefly against Sara's, giving them both a happy jolt of sexual electricity.

"Unghh!" Laura groaned.

"Hhhhh!  Ahhnn!" Sara gasped.

And for the first time Laura realized that she felt no pussy ring, Sara's usual little silvery piece of crotch jewelry which she had found so strange yet endearing in the past.  It was gone; not present.  No pussy ring.  Why?  And yet the thought of it quickly left her because the sensations they were creating by this slow rhythm were so piercingly sweet and intense that she could concentrate on nothing else.  Even the sad bittersweet emotion they had both clearly been feeling up to now had disappeared behind this deep sexual trance they were sharing.

Laura knew they were going to come this way, and come together, and probably more than once.  She had never felt her vulva inside another woman's pussy before, or her clit, even though she had tribbed a thousand times, and it thrilled her with deep emotion, especially because it was Sara she was inside of.  We're going to come together, she thought.  Together.  Oh god, I still do love her, in a way.  I know I do.  I know she knows it.

They quickly found that fucking this way required them to move very little, only a slight, steady motion, a slow, gentle undulation of their hips.  In fact, anything more might disrupt their fragile union, might expel Laura's wet vulva from the receptive groove of Sara's open pussy, obligating them to carefully adjust their bodies in order to regain this blissful contact.  Laura realized that a pillow under Sara's buns, elevating her ass and groin and uptilting them a little to this approach, might have eased their task, but she knew there was no way now either of them would permit a pause to implement that.  They were too thoroughly locked in the mystery of this embrace.

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 they 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."