She realized she had a sharp desire to see Bonnie, whom she had not seen for weeks due to a variety of circumstances.  Now that Bonnie was working at the job Nyomi had procured for her with the city, she was not only less dependent on Laura but not as close, either; seeing her was not as easy as popping down to the sandwich shop in the alley, where Laura had first met her.  If she didn't stay in touch, Laura had to take the extra step to track her down.  She did not have Bonnie's cell phone number, which was something she intended speedily to correct.

With this in mind, on a day when she had to drive to work due to meetings outside the office, she decided to cruise by the Redevelopment Agency, where Bonnie worked, a little after five, when she knew Bonnie would be getting off.  To her great surprise, she even managed to snag a parking space about a third of a way down the block.  She fed the meter and waited, thinking to surprise Bonnie, to give her a ride home, and then go up to Bonnie's little studio apartment and fuck the dear girl for about three hours.  God, I could really get into that, she realized, squirming in her seat.  It had been two days since her tryst with Shelley, and Makeeda was not due home until the end of the week.

You, my dear, she told herself, are a lust-drenched sex maniac.  Poor Bonnie!  The moment she sees you, she probably thinks: Oh god, that sex fiend Laura wants to fuck me again.

Imagine her shock when she saw Bonnie emerge from the RDA building with a blonde girl, laughing and joking and walking together in the direction of the Civic Center BART station.  The girl was about the same height as Bonnie but huskier, with a butch haircut.  Lesbo, Laura thought.  Trying to poach my sweetie.  What am I going to do?

She promptly started up her car and pulled out to follow them, but traffic held her up, naturally, and by the time she got free she slowly drove by the BART station in time to see the blonde butch girl waving goodbye as Bonnie started down the stairs.  Honking was useless.  Anyway, she didn't want to make a spectacle, as if she had been shadowing them.

She drove to Bonnie's apartment in Oakland and waited a decent interval before going up.  It was embarrassing.  Now more than ever she began feeling that Bonnie would think: oh, it's that damn Laura again, wanting to fuck me.  Never see her around here unless she got black pussy on the brain.  It did seem an awfully lot like that.

But Bonnie was not at home.  Laura knew that the BART train would have made it there long before she did, and so Bonnie must've stopped off on the way, perhaps for a little grocery shopping.  She waited.  She felt silly hanging around in the corridor of the small apartment house, so she went downstairs and waited by the curb.  Soon Bonnie appeared, carrying a brown supermarket bag.

"Laura!" she smiled.  She seemed genuinely happy to see Laura. 

For her part, Laura could not take her eyes off Bonnie, who even at the end of a day's work looked fresh and delicious in her office garb and white sneakers.  I have held this darling in my arms and made her pant, and whinny through orgasms, she realized.  Sometimes it was hard to believe it.  She is so sweet and natural and shy and pretty, and has those devastating high cheekbones.  No wonder Butch Blondie wants to do the same thing.

"I . . . went by your work to offer you a ride," Laura said, blurting it out foolishly.  "Guess I missed you . . . but I really wanted to see you . . . so I came here."

Bonnie's dark eyes almost twinkled.  "Bet I know why."

"Oh god, caught out again," Laura spoofed herself.

"You wanted some of my good home cooking," Bonnie smiled, looking down at the grocery bag she was holding against her marvelous jutting young breasts, which Laura had sucked so hungrily on so many occasions, before melting down totally in orgasms divine.

Laura grinned.  "That's it.  You mind reader."

"Onliest trouble is, somebody else is coming too."  Bonnie gave her a troubled, ambiguous look.  "Friend from work."

Uh oh.  Laura felt her spirits, seconds ago skyrocketing in the anticipated thrill of hot fucking with this delicious girl, suddenly plummet.  She could not even control her reaction.  "Don't tell me.  Blonde?  Short haircut?"

Bonnie looked quizzical.  "How'd you know?"

"I saw her with you as you were entering the BART station.  You were waving goodbye."

"She's going home to get her car.  She lives in the city and has to get back after . . . dinner.  Don't like riding BART at night."  Bonnie paused uncomfortably.

Did this mean they were already doing it, already a couple, had already fucked and writhed and panted and fucked and . . . ?  Laura thought in a heated, jealous frenzy.  Or were they planning to do it tonight for the first time, after 'dinner'? 

She also hated herself for this petty jealous streak, which for years now she had successfully managed to suppress.  After all, she had encouraged Bonnie to make friends at her new job, male or female, to fill her life (and her bed) without depending on Laura to fill it.  Be careful what you wish for, she told herself.  Somebody else will hold her tonight.  Somebody else will hear those sweet little whimpers.  Somebody else will shove her brutal fist up into that beautiful tight pussy (Bonnie's sex act of choice; who would guess, looking at this sweet, innocent darling in her white tennies and her crisp blouse and simple skirt, that she loved being fist-fucked into screaming paroxysms of ecstasy?).  Oh god.

Laura gulped, visibly shaken but trying to hide it from Bonnie.  I must not let her know that I'm upset by it, she thought.  She looked down at the sidewalk and shuffled her feet.  "Well . . . it was just a thought.  I better get going."  She smiled, falsely bright.  "So you can get up there and start cooking."  She pulled away, desperately wanting Bonnie to call her back.

Bonnie did not.  "Why don't you come by tomorrow night?"

Laura continued to smile tightly.  "Sure.  Maybe I'll do that."

"Really."  Bonnie flooded her with a warm smile.  "Promise?"

"I promise."

Laura felt like her face might be in danger of breaking into pieces from this tight smile as she climbed back behind the wheel of her car.  I am so furious and sad that I . . . what?  I can't make love to her tonight?  I am so selfish.  Bonnie has a life.  She can spread her darling joy anywhere, and I encouraged her to do it!  Tonight Butch Blondie is the lucky girl, not me.  Poor Laura.  Grow up!

At home, though, she called Frankie.  "Oh god, Laura, I can't tonight.  Really.  I'm working as backup on a case, a big case.  I'm working about sixteen hours a day.  I'm exhausted, but I can't stop.  If I could, you know I would.  I'm dying to see you.  I won't be finished with this damned thing for weeks.  But maybe there'll be a lull now and then, once we go to court.  There'll be recesses and stuff.  Call me back?  Or rather, I'll call you at work.  Don't want to raise suspicions.  I love you, think of me, okay?"

Then she stewed for a little while, played with the cats, and phoned Sara.  Sara whispered into the phone, so faintly that Laura could barely hear her, though she picked up the tension.  "Laura, this is really a terrible time to call.  Really.  Darlene is over here.  She and I are . . . oh, you know, doing what you and I used to do.  We're naked."  [She really didn't have to put in that part, Laura thought, bitterly.]   "She's so suspicious.  She'll want to know who this is, why they're calling.  I can't see you.  I'm sorry.  Call me ahead of time, okay?  Not at home.  Okay?  Sorry.  Bye."

Next, Nyomi.

"You really pick your times, don't you, Laura.  My mother is here.  She's staying for three days while they paint her house."

"Is she standing there?"

"No.  She's playing with Alana in her bedroom, like you do when you're here."  Nyomi laughed.  "When you're not playing with me in my bedroom."

"God, I miss you!"

"You miss my floppy-lipped black pussy, girl.  You know that's all you miss."

"Not true.  You are the top of the heap."

"Except for the singer."

"Yes, except for the singer."

"Where's she?"

"She's in Vancouver, until Sunday night."

"Well . . ." Nyomi drawled affectionately, "at least you won't have too long to wait.  Tell you what.  Here's my prescription for happiness.  Just lay down naked on your bed and think of me kissing you all over your body, and rubbing my boobs against you, and licking your pretty pink pussy the way you taught me to do it.  And rub one of those strap-on doodads of yours against it, and maybe push it inside, and keep it up until you come, and cry out 'Nyomi!' when you do.  Believe me, it works.  I do it myself about twice a week."

"And you cry out 'Nyomi'?" Laura teased her.

"No.  I cry out 'Denzel!'  I always wanted to fuck with him.  That's before I met you, of course."

Laura couldn't help laughing.  Nyomi could always make her laugh.  She wanted desperately to be burying her face between those magnificent breasts right now.  But she calmed herself.  "Good advice.  I guess I'll have to take it."

"Call me, darling, when the singer leaves town again."

"You know I will."

Nyomi made kissing, smacking noises with her lips into the telephone receiver.  "Kisses all over your body!"

Laura smiled as she hung up the phone.  She was alone, true, except for the cats, always good company.  But each one of her sweeties, though preoccupied, had been in their own ways receptive, and none, except perhaps Sara, had rejected her outright.  And even Sara had her reasons, not wanting to jeopardize her relationship with the outrageously possessive Darlene.  I forgive her, Laura thought.  She doesn't need me fucking up her life twice.

She grew more resigned to a quiet evening.  Perhaps a little TV, or even a library visit.  It was still only six-thirty.  On an impulse, she checked her work number voice mail, since she was expecting a message not yet received.  It was still not there, but wonder of wonders there was a message from Deshona Reed.

Her voice was full of warm, intimate laughter.  "Okay, bitch, you're not answering again, I can never get you person to person, only this sterile electronic voice box.  I'm thinking of you all the time.  And missing you.  Give me a call.  When you can."

I can! Laura nearly jumped out of her chair.  "I can!" she said aloud, briefly startling Monk, who had just sauntered into the living room.

"Sorry, Monk," she winked at him.  "Mommy's going to get laid after all."  She quickly dialed Deshona's number, from memory.

"Why are you calling me a bitch who's your oldest, dearest friend!" she snapped into the phone when Deshona answered.

Deshona laughed.  "Laura, darling.  I guess you got my message.  You are a bitch, love.  You ignore me.  It's been months.  My ass has almost forgot what the flat of your hand feels like."

A sly little allusion to their spanking games, which they somehow had never been able to abandon once they had started them. 

"Mmmm, I could take care of that in a New York minute, I bet," Laura said in a sultry, suggestive voice.

"Well . . ." Deshona sounded bemused, "I'm here alone.  Except for the dogs.  Think you feel up to the drive?  I could make it worth your while."

"The dogs?  Plural?  I thought there was only Molly."

This was Deshona's fearsome Rottweiler that she had for protection, since she lived alone in a big house in a secluded, wooded area.  Though Molly was terrifying at first glance, she had been good friends with Laura since she was a puppy.  Only once had she become nervous and upset while Laura and Deshona were fucking in a serious and hair-raising pandemonium of ecstasy.  She had apparently thought that Laura was attacking Deshona, which in fact she was, in a loving, passionate way.  After that, they had locked Molly in another part of the house while they were fucking.

"There's also Susie, a friend for Molly.  I got her recently.  There had been some suspicious incidents in the neighborhood.  I figured two is better than one.  Who wants to go up against two Rottweilers, right?"

"Right.  I sure don't.  I guess I'll have to spend a little time getting to know Susie."

"Oh, it won't be so bad.  I had Jill out here from Baltimore a few weeks back, and they got along fine after ten minutes.  I think the fact that Molly is used to you will make you okay with Susie."

"I can be there in forty minutes, if the traffic cooperates," Laura said, cutting to the chase.  She could feel a happy, prickly little wave of excitement in her pussy.

"Fine.  If you feel like it, bring a suitcase.  You can stay over instead of driving all the way back."

This sounded like a perfect solution to Laura, who packed and was ready to leave in five minutes.  She set out lots of extra food and water for the cats, gave a full two minutes to each one of tummy rubbing and scratching behind the ears to fill them with affection that would tide them over until next evening.  "You guys will be okay," she assured them.  "Just sleep and eat and sleep and . . . I know you will."

She could hardly control her eagerness to get down to Deshona's house.  It took her a little longer than predicted, but she was there by seven thirty-five.  Deshona greeted her at the door, flanking by her two menacing, husky black Rottweilers.  "You must've broken every speed record," she grinned, happy to see Laura.  She opened her arms right there on the doorstep.  "Give me a big hug."

They kissed ravenously, right out there in the open, with the dogs watching them, and probably the squirrels and raccoons too from the surrounding woods.  "You said we shouldn't do this," Laura murmured against her cheek, her body thrilling to the feel of Deshona's large, jutting breasts pushing into hers, her head filled with the flavorful scent of her.  "Remember?  You said we'd have the rabbits fucking on the lawn, setting them a bad example?"

Deshona threw her head back, laughing.  She had changed so much in the time Laura had known her.  From The Ice Queen, as Rhonda had labeled her, and as she definitely had been, to this relaxed, ardent, lovely creature, totally at home with herself and her needs, unembarrassed to express them directly.  It had taken literally months for Laura to break through her steely reserve, and her fear of woman-loves-woman sex.  And look at her now: female lovers in Baltimore, in Tucson, in Toronto, and who knew where else, besides Laura.  Deshona ran a business consulting firm and so traveled widely and often, and clearly had many opportunities to strike up casual, and sometimes deeper, lesbian affairs.  Laura was almost envious, though when she looked at her own life she could hardly complain.  She hardly lacked for bed partners when Makeeda was away.

But she had always been like this.  Deshona had transformed into it before her very eyes, going from icy prude to hot-pants predator in gradual steps.  "You look amazing," Laura told her as they went into the house.

"Oh Laura, you always say that," Deshona swatted her hands away, closing and locking the door behind them.  "Come in here and have a glass of wine and make friends with the doggies before we lock them in their playroom and try to put each other in the hospital."

Laura grabbed her—a fairly gentle grab, though, carefully considering the dogs, whose job it was to protect this marvelous and gorgeous petite woman with the large round breasts—and kissed her again, romantically, then aggressively, lots of tongue.  Deshona was panting and a little glassy-eyed by the time Laura pulled back.

"Holy shit, girl, if I ever forgot what we had going, I've remembered it now.   We may have to dispose of the dogs right away."

Laura shook her head.  "Not on your life.  I'm not going to be eaten alive by two Rottweilers while I'm spanking and fucking their mistress to fuck heaven.  Give me a chance to let Molly remember me and Susie to realize I'm not so bad.  I'm only trying to take you to heaven figuratively, not really."

Deshona pulled her close and kissed her again, very hungrily.  "There won't be anything left for the dogs when I get finished with you."  She glanced coyly back over her shoulder at Laura as she went for the wine bottle.  "And who said anything about spanking?"

"Sorry.  My bad."  Laura raised an ironic eyebrow.   "I must've misheard somebody.  Now, where's that glass of wine you promised me?"

Deshona smirk-smiled as she returned with two half-full wine goblets.  Her eyes were heavily veiled as she handed one to Laura.  "On the other hand . . . maybe you did hear correctly," she murmured.  "After all, I have been a very bad girl."

They sat on the floor with the dogs and put their wine glasses down on the low coffee table, playing gently with Molly and Susie to get them used to Laura.  Molly quickly remembered her, and Susie did not take long to warm up to her too.

"Are you going to tell me how you've been bad?" Laura smiled.

"I better not," Deshona played the game well.  "You'll want to punish me."  She shook her head in mock distress.  "I don't think I could take it if you spanked my ass . . . and my pussy too . . . like you did one time."

". . . because you asked me to," Laura added, correcting her.

"Oh shit, I came so hard!" Deshona blurted out, forgetting the game for a second.

Laura simply smiled at her.  At least she now knew one thing that was on the agenda.  "So . . ." she smiled and nodded, sipping her wine and replacing it on the coffee table, scratching Susie behind the ears.  "You were bad?  Tell me, what did you do?"

Even though they were alone with only the dogs, Deshona lowered her voice and leaned conspiratorially toward Laura.  "I cheated on Lupe with Lupe's mother," she whispered.  "I can hardly believe I did that.  Even now."

Laura grinned and scooted closer.  "Tell me more, you nasty little slut."

"For one thing," Deshona continued after a minute of apparently pondering the details, "she isn't that old.  Lupe's about twenty-five, and her mother Juana is maybe forty-five.  Maybe younger.  Teen pregnancies, you know.  I once met a woman whose mother was only fourteen years older than she was.  So Juana's kind of like a riper version of Lupe.  Voluptuous, you know?"

Laura nodded, listening intently.

"You're not voluptuous.  I'm not either . . . except for these."  She made a temporary little shelf with the tops of both hands under her marvelous large round breasts.  "Lupe isn't either.  Neither is Jill, or Donna, the one I told you I met in Toronto.  There, that's a complete list of my lesbian lovers.  None voluptuous.  Except Juana.  I kept seeing her now and then, when I dropped Lupe off, or when we were working together at her office.  Juana would drop by.  She knew Lupe and I were doing it.  She seemed fascinated.  One evening Lupe had to attend a friend's baby shower.  She said Juana wanted to cook me dinner, so I wouldn't be lonely."

"And . . ."

Deshona almost blushed, though her skin was too dark for it to show.  She was not deeply black like Frankie or Dee Dee, but an average milk chocolate hue that didn't allow for much red blooming.  "Well . . . you know.  We never did get to the dinner part.  But we cooked each other to a crisp in her bed.  God, except for you I don't think I've ever had such a hot lover."

"Ooohhhh, I'm jealous!" Laura giggled.

"But don't you think that's very bad of me?" Deshona asked, perfectly serious.  "I mean, her own mother!  Jeez, what was I thinking?  What if she finds out?"

"How can she find out, unless Juana tells her?"

"She might guess.  I'm afraid even to see them together.  Afraid Juana and I might somehow tip her off.  Smoky looks, all that.  God, that woman was a demon.  Insatiable.  Like you.  Never got enough.  I had to make her stop fucking me because I was afraid Lupe would come home and find us like that."

"Mmmm," Laura grinned, "you were very bad.  I see what you mean.  You might need a little . . . shall we call it discipline?  To keep you in line."

Deshona leaned even closer, and lowered her voice even more.  "And I did one more bad thing.  I let Charles fuck me."

Charles was Deshona's ex-husband, with whom she had had a very rocky relationship.  He had left her for a blonde, then they had reconciled—much to Laura's horror and disgust at the time—then split decisively again.  Laura had thought Charles was finally history, shameful but distant history.  Apparently not so.

She knew that Deshona still harbored some vestigial physical desire for him.  She had purchased The Emperor, an extra-large strap-on dildo, which she freely confessed to Laura reminded her of Charles's epically huge tool.  She also insisted that Laura, and who could say who else, fuck her with it doggy-style, as Charles had done, which summoned from her scrumptious petite body the most thrilling, shrieking orgasms Laura had ever beheld.  So.  Who could deny that she might now and then long for the original version, as one longed to hear a song sung by the first artist to make it popular.

"You didn't," she said solemnly, trying to conceal her disappointment.  "I thought it was all over between you and Charles."

"It is.  But . . . oh, you know . . ."

Laura kissed her cheek and caressed it with her fingertips.  "You don't have to explain anything to me," she murmured.  "I have committed a few peccadilloes of my own in my life."

"I know, but don't you think I've been bad enough to deserve . . ."

"A hard spanking?" Laura interjected.  "I think I should tie you to the bed and whip you."

Deshona blanched playfully.  "I don't think we need to go that far."

Laura agreed.  She had never gone that far with Deshona.  In fact, Deshona would be totally scandalized to know how far Laura had gone with a few others.

"Just speaking figuratively," Laura quickly recovered.

Deshona kissed her and breathed in her ear.  They had pretty much forgotten the dogs and were groping each other more and more urgently.  "I really think if you spank my pussy, I'll explode, though."

"We better put the dogs in a safe place," Laura whispered.  "I don't think and can control myself much longer."

"Me either."

They got to their feet and each retrieved her half-full wine glass from the coffee table.  When their eyes briefly met, Laura could feel a flare up deep inside her body that she knew Deshona was feeling too, almost a lightning bolt, a sign of the long-standing white-hot sexual connection between them.

"I'll meet you in the bedroom," Deshona said softly.  Then, more loudly, with command, "Come on, girls!  Mommy's going to take you to the play room.  Come along, now!"

She handed her wine glass to Laura to carry for her and led the dogs in a direction opposite from the bedroom where she had sent Laura.  It was a big house, one she had once shared with the odious and contemptible Charles.  Laura had no idea where the dogs were being sequestered but realized it was pretty far away, so that they could not become too disturbed by the turbulent moaning and sexual shrieking that was soon likely to be erupting in the master bedroom.

She had been there many times before and had no trouble finding it.  Recently, each time she came into it she could not help recalling how she had spanked, and even fist-fucked, Deshona for the first time while Deshona's niece Taneesha had been sitting on the sofa out in the living room, listening to every squeal.  Of course neither of them had known she was there.  Taneesha had gone to the mall in Deshona's Mercedes, whereupon Deshona and Laura had fallen into a wild maelstrom of incendiary fucking on the floor in the living room, before quickly adjourning to the bedroom for more, leaving a trail of discarded clothing strewn carelessly about.  When Laura had emerged later, stark naked, to retrieve her clothes, there sat Taneesha quietly reading a magazine, as if nothing unusual had occurred.

At the time it had been a semi-appalling event, but in retrospect it was merely amusing.  Moreover, it had been enough to get Taneesha into Laura's bed later, so eager was she to sample the wares that had made 'Auntie Deshona' gush and shriek with wild ecstasy while she was so shamelessly eavesdropping.

Laura was still smiling over it when Deshona reappeared.  She handed her her wine glass.  "Toast," she said, raising her own glass.  "To a night as hot as the one we had when Taneesha was out in the other room listening to us."

Deshona frowned sourly.  "That shallow, smug little cunt!"  She raised her glass.  Then, suddenly, looking in Laura's eyes as they clinked glasses, it seemed as if a flash of understanding permeated her.  "You bitch!"  Her mouth dropped open.  "You fucked her, didn't you!  God, I never realized it until now!  You invited that ditzy little slut up to the city and fucked her!  Didn't you!"

Laura could not tell if Deshona were genuinely angry or just playfully so.  Whichever it was, she knew it didn't matter, for she turned bright red anyway.  Nothing like signaling your guilt unmistakably.  I have to start living a more upright life, she told herself.  There's no way I can hide it when I've done something bad.

"So . . . we've both done something bad," she gulped awkwardly, taking a sip of her wine, withering under Deshona's scornful stare.

But then, wholly unexpectedly, Deshona's stark frown morphed into a broad smile.  "I hope you gave the little tart a thrilling ride.  I hope you made her scream."

Oh, I did, Laura thought, without saying it out loud.  But again her embarrassment gave her away.  Deshona didn't seem to care.  She set down her wine glass on the vanity table and began to undress, quickly pulling off her sweatshirt over her hair and shaking it free.  She wore, as usual with her, a devastatingly sexy bra, a lacy peach-colored thing that dipped low between the alluring melons of her round breasts, so big for a petite woman.  So round! Laura rhapsodized.  She had never seen such round breasts.  Deshona knew how Laura lusted for them.  She took this moment to tease her mercilessly.

"One thing that skinny little airhead doesn't have is these," she said slyly, turning, posing, smiling, touching the bra cups with her fingers, dipping a long brown forefinger into her cleavage.  "She's as flat as an ironing board, just like her mother."

'Her mother' was Deshona's sister Shavondra, whom Laura had never met.  But she divined from this allusion that there was a competitive friction between the sisters.  Laura went over to her, placing her own wine glass next to Deshona's on the vanity table.  Without speaking, but holding Deshona's eyes with her own, she slid one of her own forefingers down into the deep cleavage where Deshona's finger had just been.

"No . . . she certainly doesn't have these," she murmured, stroking the bulging sides of both of Deshona's breasts with the fingertip.  Then she removed her finger and dropped her head, pressing her lips to the same spot between Deshona's breasts.  "You better take this off or I'll rip it off."

"Oooohhhh, getting a little violent now, are we?" Deshona stepped back, smiling.  "Are you threatening me?"

Laura stiffened up and frowned, realizing that this was an opportunity to resume their game.  "I told you, you need a little discipline, you naughty thing."  She advanced a step, again closing the gap between them.

Now Deshona was backed up against the edge of the bed and could retreat no further.  "Why don't you take it off," she dared Laura with her eyes, now pulsing with hot sex.  "You want them.  You're going to have to take them."  Her sensual lips curled in a coy smile.  "Only don't rip the bra.  It cost me forty bucks.  I wore it just for you."

"I'll bet you did," Laura murmured, reaching behind her with both hands to unclasp it.  "You like to tease me, don't you."

"I absolutely love it.  I love watching you seethe and burn for my body."

Laura brushed her smooth dark brown cheek with her lips as she unfastened the clasp and brought the two ends of the strap forward, so that the thin shoulder straps collapsed around Deshona's arms.  She looked down.  They both looked down.  These were truly magnificent breasts, and it was hard not to just marvel at them.  Two beautiful dark brown balls, perfectly round, with bullet nipples rising out of  flat, stippled areolas that Laura yearned to lick.

She slid Deshona's unfastened bra completely off and tossed it accurately into a chair across from the foot of the bed.  "See?  It's still okay, all forty bucks of it, and you can wear it again for the insatiable Juana.  Or her darling, fiery daughter Lupe.  Just saying their names makes me wet."  She ran her hands all over Deshona's beautiful naked breasts.  "Just like touching these does."

"Kiss me, Laura," Deshona suddenly panted.  "God, I'm dying to be fucked.  It's been months since I've been with you!"

"I know . . . I know . . ." Laura murmured, kissing her neck, her bare shoulders, her throat.   "Way too long . . . way too long . . ."

She ran both hands down to Deshona's pert little ass and pinched both cheeks hard through the fabric of her shorts.  Deshona jumped and cried out.

"Aiieeeee!  Ouchhhh!  What are you doing?"

Laura flashed her a sinister smile.  "I thought we both agreed that you need some discipline."

"You cunt, don't you touch me!"

Laura pushed her forcibly down onto the mattress, her fingers scrabbling with the zipper of Deshona's shorts to get them off.  This naturally, since Deshona continued to struggle, allowed her fingers to skim and caress the woman's phenomenal bare legs, which made her own blood, already hot, heat up further.  Deshona's legs were short but beautifully shaped, and you could feel little lust firecrackers going off deep inside your pussy at the mere sight of them.

"Ooooohhhh . . . don't touch me!" Deshona continued to wriggle and squirm, but she wasn't really serious, Laura knew, or she could have easily got away.

She was more than half-naked already, and her jouncing, rolling breasts were enough to incite the rapist in the mildest of lovers, which Laura was not.  She grabbed the beautiful rolling balls and squeezed them, pinching Deshona's nipples, though not too hard.

"Let go of me, you bitch!  Get your hands off my boobs!"

"Mmmm, somebody needs to have a little spanking.  I think her beautiful little ass has to be taught a lesson."

She could almost see the sexual excitement spread across Deshona's face and through her struggling body as she heard these words.  Leaning over on top of her, pinning her down, Laura could actually get her mouth on Deshona's naked breasts while at the same time she continued to pull down her shorts and her panties.  She sucked one jutting bullet nipple into her mouth, hard.

"Annngghhh!" Deshona yelped, watching her dark nipple disappear into Laura's mouth.  "Oh god yes that's it!" she gasped.  "Suck hard!  Harder!"

Like many women, she wanted her breasts sucked harder than most lovers would do it, except Laura, who was a maniac for sucking.  And at this moment Laura was in pig heaven.  She sucked Deshona's hard nipple like swallowing it would save her life.  At the same time, she pushed Deshona's shorts and her panties down around her ankles, where Deshona, though in spasms of passion from Laura's hungry mouth on her nipple, helped by kicking them free.  Now she was naked.  Laura was not, but that didn't seem to matter since this was a serious lust attack.

She managed to maneuver Deshona over onto her stomach, and smacked her once with the flat of her hand on the woman's delicious round ass.  But Deshona, though squirming and wincing in a wild fit of passion, frowned back over her shoulder.  "You too!  Clothes . . . take them off!  You too!  Please, Laura.  Hurry!"

Laura tore out of her clothes.  It was true, she wanted to feel her own bare flesh against the silky smooth flesh of this incredibly desirable woman, and in seconds they were rubbing together everywhere.  Finally Laura again reached Deshona's uptilted ass and began to caress it roughly with both hands, a prelude to a renewed attack. 

"Oh!  Oh!"  Deshona whimpered softly, biting her lower lip, shimmying her beautiful ass up into Laura's probing, pinching, squeezing fingers.

And it was a beautiful ass, though by no means a 'ghetto booty' like Ashley's unbelievable masterpiece, or Dee Dee's, or Dawn's, or Jane's, or . . . or . . .

Laura could go on and on praising these amazing posteriors, so ripe and round and high and hard and inviting, so difficult to resist.  Deshona's was small by comparison, taut and tiny, almost, so appropriate for a petite but wildly shapely woman, two small sculptured moons, almost a perfect fit with Laura's cupped palm.  But now she wasn't cupping it.  Instead, she spread it flat and gave three stinging slaps to Deshona's ass: whack . . . whack . . . whack!

"Ow!  Mmnnoouchh!  Nnngggieee!" Deshona wailed, pouring it on with extra theatricality since they were alone, the dogs were locked up, and there was nothing to prevent them from burning the place down with hot sex.

Tears came to her eyes from the stinging blows, but she glowered at Laura as if to dare her to do it harder.  She wiggled her beautiful dark brown ass under Laura's hand, then groaned with pain as Laura took the invitation and whacked her lovely round buns again mercilessly.  She really spanked it hard this time, probably harder than she had ever done before, and Deshona wailed and writhed in happy, painful abandon, whimpering and squirming, but noticeably not moving her ass out of range of Laura's hand.  Whack!  Whack!  Stinging whack!

"Unggh!  Aoowwnnggg!  Owwchhnnn!  Owww!  Oh!  Oh shit!  Owwww!"

Laura attacked her hard, but only because she knew Deshona wanted it.  She was getting close to an orgasm this way, Laura could see.  Each stinging slap pushed her closer to the edge.  "You're a bad girl!"  Fierce, vicious slap.  "A bad bad girl!"  Another vicious, stinging slap.

Tears streamed down Deshona's beautiful face.  Laura couldn't help seeing through them to the icy, aloof, contemptuous expression Deshona had often harbored in their earlier acquaintance, an expression she habitually used to confront the world even to this day, her remote, dismissive, don't-think-you're-worthy-of-my-attention scornful frown.  It was no longer there for Laura, obviously, but just the memory of it gave Laura a thrill that she could reduce its owner to this groveling, moaning, weeping beauty, dying to be brought to a horrific sexual climax by the flat of Laura's hand on her lovely naked body.

And it was clear she was getting closer to one.  She writhed and whimpered under the vicious smacks of Laura's palm, and the skin on her bottom, normally medium-dark brown anyway, grew darker with infused blood.  Laura knew her ass was flaming, and that the fires were spreading to her pussy.

"Ownnncchhh!  Ow!  Owwnngghhh!  Oh shit . . . Laura . . . not so hard!  Oh . . . please!"

"Bad!" Laura gasped, smacking her ass again.  "Bad girl!  Bad little slut!  Bad!"

"Awwonngg! Oh . . . oh shit, Laura!  Please!  Owwnncchh!  Aiieeee!"

She was twisting, her face contorted and wet with tears, her body shaking and wildly desirable.  I want to just fall on her and fuck her! Laura realized.  But at the same time, Deshona, who knew precisely what was happening, had turned onto her back, spreading her thighs, exposing the fiery hot pink gash of her open pussy, and the wiry black bush of her pubic mound, a tempting target for Laura.  Suddenly, her voice came soft and urgent and clotted with almost unbearable lust, her dark eyes blazing and flashing with need.

"Spank my pussy . . . Laura . . . I've been so bad . . . spank my pussy!"

"Yes," Laura heard herself saying.

"Spank my pussy!  I can come!  Do it . . .  do it . . . quick!  Do it hard!"

"Yes."

Laura was not about to refuse.  They had done this before, when Deshona had apparently become infatuated with it, and right now she appeared to be even more aroused than she had that time, when she had come unbelievably.  And fast, too. 

There was always the minor drawback that Deshona's inflamed, gaping pussy was one of the most beautiful she had ever seen, and tasting it, mouth-mauling it, was far more tempting to her than smacking it with the flat of her hand until Deshona erupted in happy squeals.  But Deshona was in the driver's seat here, whimpering and churning her hips and unnaturally splaying her delicious smooth thighs wide for Laura's hand.  She couldn't slap Deshona's pussy head on and had to move to the side and even adjust Deshona's body a little on the mattress so that her hand could land properly.

"Yes . . . yes . . ." Deshona panted as she wriggled into position, her eyes imploring Laura to hurry.

And now, with no further delay, Laura gave her what she wanted.  The flat of her hand came down on the puckered, exposed, fiery pink, black-lipped slit of Deshona's gooey hot pussy with even more sharp force than she had expected, causing a wild yelp and recoil from Deshona.

"Yiiiaaee!  Ohhnnnnn!"

There was hardly enough time for Laura to admire and scrutinize the delicious, glistening, raw seam of her wet cunt since Deshona was twisting and churning to wildly, pushing her oozing pussy up into each thrilling blow from Laura's hand.  And they were not tentative or tender blows, not with the fingers, but really hard, stinging slaps with the flat of her palm, the heel of it slamming into Deshona's clit each time, making her yelp and almost leap up off the mattress, her pelvis shimmying and great cawing shrieks of sexual excitement—you really couldn't call it pain—pouring from her throat.

"Yes!  Unngghhaaiieee!  Oh . . . yes!  Unngghhaaiieee!  Ungghhh!  Yes!"

Laura was somehow both thrilled and shocked by the feel of Deshona's warm, wet pussy lips and the damp, matted mesh of her pubic hair crushed against the flesh of her palm with each fierce slap.  It both repelled and fascinated her, and acted as a magnet, drawing a fresh whack out of her, as if she couldn't wait to feel it again. 

Although it seemed interminable, it was actually only a few seconds, a few slaps, maybe five or six, before she began to come.  Laura had known it would happen this way, and maybe Deshona had too.  When you were aroused enough, just a few hard strokes was enough to tip the balance, and you fell off into happy, rupturing spasms of hot coming.  Deshona's body clenched, almost in mid-air, her thighs flexing, her breath caught deep in her chest, so that she only squeaked in helpless shock.  And then the climax ripped through her flesh.

"ANNGGHHIIIEEEE!  UNGH!  OH . . . SHIT SHIT!  ANNGGHHHIEEEEE!"

She squeezed her thighs tightly together on Laura's hand, trapping it, pumping her hips frantically, gasping and whinnying, a maniacal smile of bliss spreading across her contorted face as she milked every last twitch and sweet spasm out of this orgasm.  Laura did not try to extricate her hand, but she could not suppress the rest of her fierce sexual desire and ended up grasping Deshona's large, round left breast in her other hand and squeezing it, almost in rhythm with Deshona's violent panting and mewling, lightly pinching Deshona's thick bullet nipple between her thumb and forefinger, finally lowering her mouth to it and sucking it inside, but not hard, just continuously.

"I want to suck you . . . and fuck you . . . forever . . ." she murmured softly, feeling Deshona finally, and slowly open her thighs to release her hand.

Bleary-eyed and still stunned from the force of her climax, Deshona lifted her head slightly from the mattress, squinting at Laura.  "I might just sign you to a contract," she gasped hoarsely, "just to make sure you don't try to wiggle out of that promise."

Laura smiled and released her nipple, kissing it roundly with a big smackeroo.  "Who said anything about a promise?  I just said I want to."

Deshona grinned and stretched sensually, showing off that marvelous petite body, running her hands up her stomach to her incredible round breasts, twisting her dark brown nipples in her fingers.  She was amazing.  Infinitely desirable.  Laura, though she had just delivered the most perverse and exciting orgasm to this woman, was still gripped by the fiercest lust for her, for her body. 

Deshona smiled at her lazily, as if reading Laura's mind, knowing that Laura had made her come and it was still not enough.  "What would it take to make you promise?"

Laura kissed her neck, and her ear, and her neck again, and slid her mouth down to Deshona's right nipple, tonguing and sucking it passionately, until she felt Deshona's body begin to quake a little under her again, as if new sexual flames were starting to flare up.  She heard her panting, and could feel her chest rising and falling quickly under her mouth.  After all, it was only minutes since Deshona had been wrenched by hot spasms of a delicious orgasm.

"I have to have more of you," she murmured, sliding her hand back down between Deshona's spreading thighs, feeling the wet.  "I have to kiss your pussy.  I love your pussy."

"You . . . you just . . ." Deshona panted, squirming, laughing a little, but panting more rapidly by the second.  "You just . . . spanked my pussy.  You just whipped my pussy with your hand.  Aren't you . . . ever . . . satisfied?"

"No.  You loved it.  And you came so hard."

"Yes!" Deshona gasped.

"But I want to eat it," Laura panted too.  "I want to eat your beautiful pussy."

"Oh god!" Deshona gasped, almost as if the words rose helplessly to her lips.  "Oh god . . . yes!  I think it's a little sore . . . but . . . yes!"

Laura, sliding down her twisting body, realized that her pussy might indeed be a little sore from the spanking she had given it, but it hadn't lasted that long, and even so she was just going to lick it and make love to it ardently.  Deshona had one of the most beautiful pussies ever created, a puckered, sculptured shell of beauty, curved black lips, hot, glistening pink interior, a swollen little bead of love at the top, still peaking out from under its black hood.  She spread the vulva further open with her thumbs and slithered her tongue into it as far as it would go.

"Auunnggghhh!" Deshona groaned with pleasure, arching her back and flexing her entire small body. 

Her breasts moved and swirled in tight circles as she did this, making Laura seethe further with hot lust.  God, this woman is so beautiful!  I am so privileged to fuck her.  But she took it slow, taking her time, enjoying every second, licking, sucking, fingering, licking more passionately.  Deshona was silent, except for her panting.  Her hips gyrated a little, though, in rhythm, churning, churning.  But all this went on for minutes.  Laura teased her clit with her tongue until she heard hot little mewls of pleasure coming from Deshona's throat, mingled with the harsher panting of sexual need.

"Oh . . . is Mama going to make you come?" Laura asked, gently, affectionately.  "Is Mama going to make you come again?"

"Oh GOD yes!  Unnhhhh!  Oh . . . you devil!" Deshona laughed softly, looking down her body at Laura's head in her crotch, catching Laura's eye.  "You are magic!  Unhhhh!"

Now Laura was picking up the tempo.  She knew Deshona was benefiting from her earlier orgasm, only minutes ago, that she was quickly elevating again to the plateau of coming she had vacated only moments earlier, that she would come again with little effort, if Laura kept up the pressure.  She could tell it from the tension in Deshona's lovely, writhing body.

"Oh!  Oh!" Deshona gasped, almost surprised to be feeling it herself.  She was not usually a woman to climax quickly, like Laura, and so this quick reawakening of her body was a pleasant shock.  "Oh . . . Laura . . . yes!  Yes!" she gasped, her hips now churning urgently, her hands fluttering over her jutting nipples before twisting and pulling them sharply.  "Ungghhh!  Oh . . . yes!  Do it hard!  Unghhh!  Yes!"

Laura was too busy sucking and licking and pumping Deshona's sweet pussy with three fingers of her right hand, crouched over her now, fucking her in a spontaneous frenzy of heated passion, hearing her whoop and gurgle and caw as the coming orgasm fought its way out of her clenching body.

"ANNNGGHIIIEEEEE!" Deshona suddenly cried out, her body flipping and surging wildly up off the mattress into Laura's face.  "Anngghh!  Anngghh!  MNNNGGEEE!" she wailed again, leaping with one final spasm into the air and falling back as the second killing spasm raked her.

For several long minutes they lay scrunched together and not moving, except for their panting and soft moaning.  Laura could feel the fluttering in Deshona's body begin to subside.  She could feel her own pulse still hammering away, since she herself had not yet climaxed and was feeling pretty taut.  But Deshona had simply undergone a hot tornado of coming in the past five minutes, and so Laura could be a little patient, kissing her, bringing her back, cooing to her.

"I don't know if I've ever seen you come that hard before," she murmured into her cheek, caressing her round breasts, massaging her nipples gently with the flat of her fingertips.

Deshona gave her a wan, wry smile, turning her head sideways to face Laura.  "Oh yes I have," she croaked.  "The very first time you fucked me, I came that way.  That's why I've never been able to forget about you ever since.  Not for a minute."

Laura kissed her, a long, deeply affectionate kiss.  "I'm glad Juana and Lupe and the others haven't been able to replace me completely," she smiled. 

"Nothing could replace my Laura," Deshona grinned, rolling onto her side and embracing Laura hard now, pushing her firm round breasts into Laura's.  "And I'll bet my Laura is about as horny as an old horny toad now and wishes I would give her a little of what she just gave me."

Laura kissed her again, this time with lots of tongue.  "I wouldn't turn it down, that's for sure."

Deshona was already kissing her body in sweet, intimate places, and applying many of the skills she had learned about arousing a woman's body from her various adventures, not the least of them these moments with Laura.  "Then lie back, my sweet, and let me have my way with you.  I've been craving some hot Laura pussy for months now."  She continued making love exquisitely to Laura's naked body, but then popped her head up suddenly to say something else.  "One more thing."

"What?"

"That stuff I told you about Charles."  She shook her head.  "I lied.  I haven't seen him since the divorce, over two years now.  I just wanted to make you mad so you would . . ."

Her voice trailed off since they both knew what she meant.  Laura, smiling, reached out and took Deshona's wrist and pushed her hand down between her yawning thighs.  "Please," she murmured.  "Please continue."