Laura's Story -- An Interracial Lesbian Romance -- by Miranda Mars -- Chapter 21
After they all recovered from this firestorm of orgasms, they
went to Karen's bedroom, tore the bedspread off her kingsized bed,
and spent the rest of the night fucking. Rina and Laura fucked
Karen, then Laura and Karen fucked Rina, then the two black girls
fucked Laura again. Finally, they ended up in a circle, each girl
with her mouth on another's pussy, closing a circuit of ecstacy that
left them shattered and completely drained from repeated, wrenching
climaxes.
Laura was surprised, through the following weeks and months, by
how well the three of them managed this unconventional relationship.
There seemed to be no jealousy, no wounded feelings, no feelings of
rejection. They paired off during the week, fucking in
interchangeable couples, then met together, all three of them, on
weekends for exhausting, inventive, marathon fucking parties.
Even though they were often tempted, both Laura and Karen
restrained their inclination to tempt Rina into the sadomasochistic
sexual practices they continued to enjoy when they were alone
together. Now, however, they were both more careful not to leave
marks or bruises that Rina might discover.
Instead of being jealous, Laura found that she was aroused by
imagining Rina and Karen fucking without her, so aroused that when
she next saw them together, they had wild, heart-stabbing orgasms
caused, she knew, by the anticipation. Both the other girls felt the
same.
But it was an intensity that couldn't last. Nothing could
remain that heated and not burn itself out. They found themselves
drifting apart before long, each, surprisingly enough, ending up with
a man for a while. For Laura, it was Ken Robbins, the manager of the
health club where she often went after work. He was a good, tireless
lover, and she was so accustomed by now to having multiple orgasms
that she was grateful he had such incredible stamina.
It wasn't like fucking with Rina or Karen, but it was more
normal, for a change, and she enjoyed it. For the first month or so,
she didn't even miss them, or the hot girl-girl sex that had become
such a necessity in her life.
Then, something happened. Ken had invited her to the health
club because a female body builder was appearing there to authograph
her new book. The girl was a celebrity, Ms. Olympia, winner of many
competitions and well-known in body building circles. She was also,
Laura discovered to her chagrin, black, phenomenally beautiful, and
wildly attractive sexually.
In the back of her mind, Laura had always found the thought of
female body builders vaguely repulsive. Why would a woman want those
bulging, rippling muscles all over her body? But when she first saw
Brandi Pearson, she knew instantly that she was wrong. The breath
caught in her throat, and she felt the hot, wild pulsing deep inside
her cunt that she had come to feel when she saw Rina or Karen, a
sharp, insistent throbbing that meant she wanted to fuck them, hard
and quickly.
Worse, when she had met Karen and Rina, they had at least been
fully clothed. But Brandi was clad only in a magenta-colored
bikini. Two tiny triangular patches of cloth covered her nipples,
and two more her asscrack and pussy. The rest of her was naked,
gleaming from the oil she had spread over her skin to highlight her
muscles.
And she had a body that made Laura afraid to be in the same
room with her. She was afraid everyone would feel the vibrations of
horrible, all-devouring lust that shook her when she looked at this
girl's incredible body. Brandi Pearson was very dark black with a
gorgeous face, full, sensual mouth, flashing black eyes, and skin
like polished ebony. Her body was hard and extravagantly muscled but
also dramatically curvaceous, rippling with sleek strips of muscle
but also smooth and clean and athletic-looking. Laura knew that
body-building diminshed your breasts, replacing fat with muscle, and
yet Brandi's breasts were still full, though small. They were big
enough to swell over the edges of the two tiny triangles covering
them, and her thick, protruding nipples were conspicuous under the
cloth.
And her ass was a masterpiece of hard, sculpted flesh, round
and compact, two smooth, bulging moons of muscled flesh that made
Laura's fingers quiver. She wanted it, she wanted every inch of the
magnificent girl. And from the way Brandi's eyes flashed when they
were introduced, she wondered if the girl felt it, felt the hot,
horny desire for her incredible body that Laura could barely conceal.
But Laura tried to hide it, and seem reserved, even aloof. But
she couldn't keep her eyes off Brandi. And several times, Brandi
caught her looking.
Finally, they ran into each other in the restroom. No one else
was there, momentarily, at least. Laura felt somehow so nervous, ill
at ease, being fully clothed, while Brandi Pearson was still nearly
naked in her tiny bikini. And Laura so clearly wanted to fuck the
girl, she knew it had to show.
She smiled, giggling nervously. "I . . . I'm sorry if I stared
at you," she apologized. "You're really . . . I don't know,
gorgeous."
Brandi smiled easily. She wasn't pretentious. "I'm used to
it," she said. "Some people, especially women, think I'm a freak.
Others . . . well, you know."
She looked hard into Laura's eyes. She knows, Laura thought.
"I . . . I think your body is . . . fantastic," Laura
stammered, swallowing, feeling sweat bead up on her forehead.
"I'm not that way, though," Brandi said, pointedly. "People
think, you know, because we focus so much on body sculpture, on
appearance, on narcissism, you know, that we're all dykes. But it's
not true." She smiled at Laura, but firmly, as if to set things
straight. "I'm not. I'm not one."
Laura was stunned with embarrassment. Does she think I'm a
lesbian? she wondered. Despite her lengthy affairs with Karen and
Rina, Laura still didn't think of herself as one.
"I . . . my boyfriend Ken invited me here this evening," she
half-stammered, trying not to seem too foolish. "I mean, I hope you
didn't think---"
"Oh, no no no," Brandi Pearson laughed, throwing back her head,
revealing her long, smooth neck. "Not you. I didn't mean you."
But they both knew that she really had meant Laura. Laura knew
it. She knew she had better keep her eyes off the girl's hard,
glossy thighs, off her swelling breasts, off the rippling muscles of
her washboard stomach, off her mouthwatering ass.
On the other hand, Brandi enjoyed being looked at, that was
clear. She hadn't scuplted her body into this breathtaking master-
piece in order to be ignored. She left the restroom slowly, letting
Laura's eyes linger on every flexing muscle in her strong, gleaming,
perfectly-shaped legs, and on the shifting, hard moons of her
exquisitely curved ass.
Laura nearly had a small orgasm just watching her. I've got to
have her, she thought. But she knew it was impossible. Hadn't
Brandi made it perfectly clear? She was used to getting hit on by
lesbians. She was ready for them, even if they couldn't admit their
desires. She knew. She knew people wanted her body, men and women.
That night, Laura nearly killed Ken with fucking, trying to
forget Brandi Pearson. But she had dreams of the girl anyway. She
dreamed of removing the girl's bikini, slowly, doing it herself while
Brandi smiled in a sexy, hot invitation. She dreamed of licking
Brandi's naked body, running her tongue over the gleaming black skin
and smooth, rippling muscles. She had an orgasm in her sleep and
awoke, gasping and keening, forced to tell Ken it was a nightmare.
Then, a few days later, he told Laura that Brandi Pearson had
been to the health club and asked about Laura.
"She said she liked you," he said. "Wanted to know when you
usually came there so she might run into you again."
"Really?" Laura said.
Her pulse leaped. Warm stirrings and flowing nectars enveloped
her pussy. Oh god! she thought. It can't be true.
"What did you tell her?" she asked, trying to sound as casual
as possible.
"I said you usually dropped by on Tuesdays and Thursdays after
work," Ken said, looking puzzled, since she already knew the answer.
"Oh. Right."
This was Wednesday evening. The following day Laura could
hardly keep her mind on her work. At five, she made herself stay
twenty minutes late, just so she wouldn't seem too eager, to herself
or to Brandi Pearson.
As it turned out, Brandi wasn't there when Laura arrived. She
didn't show up until an hour later. In fact, Laura, feeling glum
because nothing had happened, saw the girl only when she emerged from
the locker room after showering. And since this time Brandi was
fully dressed, Laura almost didn't recognize her. Then she noticed
this stunning black girl talking to Ken.
Oh god, it's her! she realized.
Slowly, she went over to them, wondering what to say.
"Here she is," Ken smiled.
"Hi," Brandi said, smiling with genuine friendliness.
There was no disguised lust or hidden innuendo or veiled
kinkiness in her smile. Maybe she really just wants to be friends,
Laura thought cautiously.
"Hi," Laura said, wiping the strands of wet hair away from her
forehead. She had just emerged from the shower.
"I'm glad I ran into you," Brandi said, as if it were by
chance. "I was just going to work out for about half an hour, then
grab a bite. Too bad you're already finished."
"Oh . . . I could, you know, wait around, I guess," Laura said,
trying to seem casual.
"Really?"
"Sure." Laura smiled.
"Okay. I'm going to go change. You can watch me work out if
you want to. People always want to know what it takes to look like
this."
"I'd love to," Laura said, swallowing to hide her nerves.
In five minutes, Brandi emerged from the locker room. This
time no bikini. Instead she wore a bright yellow workout jumper with
a low scoop neck, thin shoulder straps, and high cutouts over the
thighs. In fact, to Laura she looked almost more ravishing in it
than she had in the bikini. Brandi's small, hard breasts made a
sharp swelling in the jumper, and her fantastic legs looked even more
breathtaking due to the scoop in the yellow fabric above her hips.
Laura followed her into the weight room, trying not to look at
the shifting, hard, perfectly round moons of Brandi's incredible
ass. Even though she tried to keep her mind off sex, she could feel
her cunt growing wet and prickly. Soon she knew her eyes would be
betraying her interest.
On the other hand, Brandi obviously enjoyed the attention she
got from everyone. And Laura wasn't the only one who stared. The
girl was Miss Olympia, after all, and even though fewer muscles were
visible when she was wearing the jumper, the ones you could see were
still amazing.
A small crowd gathered around as Brandi lifted weights, lying
on her back. This time she wasn't wearing the body oil they put on
for professional competition and appearances, but after a few minutes
her sleek black skin began to glow with a thin film of sweat. Her
body gleamed, her muscles rippled as she moved the barbells up and
down. Her thighs clenched, and Laura's eyes were drawn to the hard,
sculptured muscles of Brandi's ass, which clenched too, sending
spurts of wild sexual desire through Laura's cunt.
She had to look away.
After this, Brandi worked on the Nautilus machines, and
watching her body was an exquisite torment for Laura. She remembered
how in her dream she had been licking the girl's skin, licking her
body all over until she had erupted in an orgasm. She couldn't get
it out of her mind. She wanted to do it now, wanted to lick the
sweat off Brandi's flexing legs, wanted to run her tongue along the
hard, flexing, smooth muscles of the girl's shapely arms.
Brandi's sleek thighs were a masterpiece, though certainly
over-muscled for most tastes. Thick, long cords of hard muscle stood
out when she tensed her legs to support a lift, smooth strips of iron
flesh, gleaming, ripplng, curved and black. God, she's so strong!
Laura thought. Making love to her could be dangerous. She could
crush you.
But how exciting it would be to make her quiver and moan and
beg, she thought next. To make her strength irrelevant, to make her
need you, want you.
A sharp shiver of sexual excitement gripped Laura, and again
she had to turn away. Finally, Brandi was finished. Glistening now
with sweat, she came over to Laura.
"I'll just take a shower," she said. "I won't be a minute.
Wait for me?"
Laura nodded. Something in Brandi's voice made it a stronger
appeal than it seemed. She somehow knew that the girl really wanted
her to wait.
When Brandi reappeared, twenty minutes later, they left the
health club together.
"Want to go somewhere and have a drink?" Laura asked.
"I don't drink."
"Oh. Of course. I forgot. Seeing you without your muscles
makes me forget," she joked, winking.
"I know. I'm really normal, though. I just don't drink."
"You could have a . . . lemonade or something."
Brandi looked reluctant.
"Okay, then. Let's have dinner. Where do you like to eat?"
They had dinner at a Chinese restaurant. Then Brandi drove
Laura to Laura's apartment in her Jaguar.
"Want to come up for a drink?" Laura asked, before remembering.
"Oh gosh, there I go again. You must think I really like to drink."
"Of course not. Sure. I would. I mean, I don't drink, but
maybe just a glass of wine or something wouldn't hurt me. I'm not
really in training or anything right now."
"You probably should be careful if you're not used to it."
"Maybe you're right. I'll just have a cup of tea or
something."
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The Laura story chapters are now available, in both text and html formats,
on the ASS html archive site at http://www.asstr.org/~laura. Text files may
also be downloaded via FTP at ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/laura.
The chapters are now also available in html format at http://www.thevalkyrie.com/stories/miranda/index.html.
© Copyright Miranda Mars, 1999-2007. It is unlawful to reprint or otherwise
distribute this material without the written consent of the author.