Chapter 259

Another week elapsed before Laura heard from Sara Paige, but she kept her mind off it by thinking a lot about where to move, and when. There were many things to consider. She was reluctant to move directly to another apartment, which could end up causing her the same problems this one did. A house seemed too expensive, and she might have to move outside the city to find one that was reasonably priced. She could try a condo, or a town house. Among her friends, Shavon, Randi, and Brenda all had taken that route and seemed fine. She certainly didn't worry about making orgiastic noises when she spent time in their beds.

On the other hand, maybe they were just more thick-skinned or devil-may-care than she. Come to think of it, even though her lovers seemed to share her embarrassment when she grew furtive and chagrined by the moaning and shrieking, hers as well as theirs, she doubted that they really cared if Laura's neighbors overheard them having such joyful, full-throttle orgasms. There was, after all, something to be proud of in that, something rare and beautiful and almost holy. Life didn't get any more intense than that, and why should they be ashamed of it?

I just want a place where we can scream like murder and no one will even hear it, she thought. Like we did at Yolanda's house. Her parents' house, I mean. Gosh, that was a sweet evening. I think I came about ten or eleven times, more than I have on one occasion for months. Those girls nearly wore me out. And that delicious, long, sloe-eyed Yolanda, dropping into those 'I'm dying' orgasms. I wouldn't mind being alone with her, if I didn't think it would make April unhappy. The two of them seem like such a pair, really friendly and affectionate, and two hot demons for fucking.

Her thoughts returned also to Shontay, who, mysteriously, had not phoned. Usually Shontay phoned her at least every other day.

"What about tonight?"

"I can't. I have my period," Laura would say. She didn't want to hurt Shontay, but every other night was just too much.

Silence.

"Shontay?"

"I... get lonely," Shontay murmured in a small, faraway voice.

"I know. I could come over and we could, you know, do everything else," Laura would say, if she really were indisposed, not faking.

"Would you?"

"I wouldn't turn it down for the world. What time?"

Twice now Laura had lain next to Shontay in Shontay's apartment, kissing her while Shontay masturbated herself into glorious orgasms. Though she was slow to come when she did it with Laura, Shontay had mastered the skill of making herself come in only seconds, and once Laura had even had a sympathetic orgasm of her own while holding her because the sight of Shontay climaxing aroused her so much. She had to admit that she had helped the girl along both times too, unable, so to speak, to keep her hand out of the cookie jar.

In this way she managed to keep their physical trysts to twice a week and to keep Shontay's naturally querulous nature in check.

Even these little conversations over the office telephones, with their veiled allusions and the soft undercurrent of explosive sex very close to the surface, were enough to make Laura wet, and flushed. But she realized she had not heard from Shontay for three days.

When she called, Shontay did not answer. Of course, she was a busy person. But Laura also knew that she, like Laura and all the other directors and above, had Caller ID on their phones and could tell at a glance who was on the other end. Instead of an answer, she got Shontay's voice mail, with a crisp, businesslike greeting that automatically made Laura hang up rather than leave some vulnerable, whining message about how Shontay had not called. She knew also that the smoky, wonderful hot pulsing of sexual innuendo that underlay their other conversations would be totally vitiated and denatured by the electronics of leaving a message.

She was even concerned enough about it to risk asking Randi, when they passed in the corridor.

"Say, how do you like your new boss?" Laura said, acting casual. "She must be overworked these days, she hasn't been returning my calls."

Randi, always a devastating flirt, was wildly desirable in a shiny ivory blouse that showed off her jutting breasts and contrasted beautifully with her rich black skin. She aimed her breasts at Laura and shimmied them a little, wiggling her shoulders and tossing her braids sexily around her neck, eyes flashing. God, why do I want Shontay when I could have this gorgeous creature whenever I choose? Laura wondered.

"You mean the broomstick?" Randi asked, savagely. "Actually, I never can decide whether she's the broomstick or the witch. That skinny bitch is a cunt and a half." Randi smiled and flirted with Laura. "Why couldn't I report to you, Laura? Couldn't you arrange it? Then we could have little meetings in your office. Right? With the door closed. You know, I could suggest it to Rhonda."

This was a hoot for them both.

"Oh... she'd love that," Laura laughed, placing a friendly hand on Randi's shoulder, feeling the soft bristles of Randi's braids brushing her fingers and send hot little darts of pleasure through her pussy.

Randi shrugged. "I don't know what's wrong with the bitch. She's that way normally. She's just a shit and a pinched-off skin-and-bones yella girl who never gets laid. Who would want to screw that ugly old giraffe anyway, right? If she popped her nut once in a while, she might be easier to get along with."

Laura smiled uncomfortably. Realizing that she had got in deeper than she had intended, she pled a meeting and excused herself, making a date with Randi for the weekend. She was still a little puzzled why she had not heard from Shontay, but she put it out of her mind and threw herself into work.

Two days later, while checking her voice mail in the morning having just arrived in the office, she flushed and had to clumsily switch off the speaker phone with a sudden jerk of her hand as she heard Sara's voice filling her office.

"Hi there, sunshine! Bet you're just getting to work. This is your friendly dental office calling to see if you are free tonight for some more Chinese food. Call and let me know. 648-0921. Bye now."

Laura had rapidly snatched up the phone receiver after shutting off the speaker, but she missed most of Sara's short message and had to repeat it.

She swiveled her chair around so that the back of it was facing the door to her office, just in case anyone should happen by and peek in. She knew she was blushing, her face all hot and red, her nipples tingling, her whole body thrumming with heat and luminous sexual yearning. I can't do this, she cautioned herself. I have to be calm. If she saw me like this, she would know in an instant that I'm dying for her.

You can't start getting all worked up over her, Laura, she told herself. You don't even know anything about her. She's just friendly. She has a tight little killer body, and an enchanting mouth. Oh god, what a mouth. Like Yolanda's mouth. Oh god, it makes my pussy flutter and quiver just looking at it, both of them do.

Laura realized that kissing Yolanda's incredible mouth had been an ecstasy even more intense than the contemplation of doing it, and she knew Sara's would be the same. I just want to kiss her. And kiss her, over and over. (Oh, I want to fuck her too, but put that out of your mind, Laura!)

She took a walk to the mail room to get control of herself, dropping off some things she was sending to the Hong Kong office. She waited until mid-morning to call Sara, hoping to distance herself from the excitement of receiving Sara's voice mail message. By the time they spoke, Laura was calm and collected and casually friendly. They agreed to meet after work for a drink, then go to the same restaurant.

But it was not to be. Sara phoned Laura at four-thirty and cancelled. She had a family emergency, she said, and could not make it.

"How about Friday? I'm sure this'll be finished by then. It's just my squirrelly sister. If she didn't have me to straighten her out every other week, she'd be in Napa. Or living under the freeway."

Napa State Hospital was the local mental institution. Laura sensed a strain in Sara's voice that she had never heard there before, and she realized that there might be a whole swirling chaos of family misery lying in back of this simple comment.

"I'm... sorry to hear that," Laura said softly, meaning it. "Is there something I can do?"

"No no. I'll be fine. I'm used to it. I've done it a hundred times. You're sweet to offer, though."

"I like you," Laura said, too fast, immediately wondering if she should have said it.

She had said it once before. Maybe she was being too persistent, too obvious, too aggressive. Oh god, I've ruined it! she thought, panicking.

But Sara was a person on a very even keel and did not become in the least suspicious. "I like you too. So, what about Friday."

"I would be delighted."

"Good, I'll call you then. Maybe we can go eat in my neighborhood... or yours, just to escape the Friday night mobs."

It was seven-thirty on Friday evening before they finally managed to meet. Again Sara had been detained after work, presumably by the same 'family emergency, ' and she had called to ask Laura to meet her at a restaurant in Noe Valley, since there were no good eating places in her own neighborhood.

Meeting her at the door, Laura was astonished to find yet another transformation. Sara wore, as usual, her crisp white blouse with the stiff collar (she must have a closet or drawer full of those, Laura thought, so good for a dental office), but this time she was sporting fine, soft, shiny dark auburn shoulder-length hair and bangs. Also, her small, rectangular, wire-rimmed glasses were gone. She saw Laura looking, mildly taken aback by her transformed appearance.

"Like my wig?" She brushed the bangs lightly across her forehead with her fingertips. "Makes me look cute, don't you think? I look good in red hair. Bangs, too."

Of course Sara had no idea what a helpless sucker Laura was for bangs, which on a lovely woman whom she desired were nearly enough to turn her knees to jelly and make her pussy begin to melt inside. Oh god, she's making it harder!

"I think they're adorable," she said, trying not to stare. "I miss the glasses, though."

Sara smiled and squinted. In fact, when she smiled it was almost a squint anyway, tighter or looser depending on her degree of mirth. "I miss 'em too. My eyes are starting to hurt, and I might put them on before the night is out."

"I wish you would. You don't have to worry about me, I already know you're smart."

Sara put her hand on Laura's, smiling even more warmly now. "What a thing to say. Aren't you sweet. I guess we're a pair after all, right? You are looking ravishing tonight yourself, my dear." Sara's eyes swept up and down Laura, who was, as usual, dressed expensively with a pricey scarf flamboyantly tied around her throat, wearing a sharply tailored dark green business suit. "You must have the fellas and the girls panting."

Now Laura had to bite her lower lip and fight back the same blush she had felt rising in her that morning when she had listened to Sara's phone message. Quickly, she nodded to the door and almost forcibly urged Sara inside the restaurant, which was encouragingly dim and noisy. She didn't trust herself to any cagey repartee on this subject, but she was somehow thrilled by Sara's easy familiarity and even by the veiled innuendo of her remark, though she cautioned herself not to put too much stock in it.

The restaurant had overstuffed leather banquettes forming semi-private booths where she and Sara could eat and talk very comfortably, and they spent the next hour and a half getting to know one another even more thoroughly than before. Without Laura having to pry, Sara soon began to trust her enough to tell her about her sister Dee Dee, who was twenty-three and both an alcoholic and a coke-addict.

"She doesn't discriminate, she's an equal opportunity fuckup," Sara said, leaning forward over her plate and whispering. "If one isn't available, she'll be happy to take the other one."

Not really knowing how to respond, Laura spent most of her time nodding with concern and sympathy.

"Now she's pregnant." Sara rolled her eyes. "Again."

"It's happened before?"

"About three times that I can remember right off," Sara said, exasperated. "I guess I should have said she's addicted to alcohol, coke, and cock. The big three. She probably won't make it to thirty."

"How sad. God, it must be tough on you."

Sara grimaced, then crossed her eyes playfully, another funny face. "Tougher on her. She's had three abortions. That I know of, anyway. Two cases of clap. Syphilis once... that I know of. Her last abortion was one of those late jobs. You know, at the last possible moment. It made me ill, girl. I just had to turn my whole mind the other way, like you do when you clean out the toilet, you know? She's a tramp and a hopeless little crackhead junky drunk and whore. What can I do? I love her. I hate her too, though."

Laura reached across the table instinctively and put her hand over Sara's. She didn't say anything-what could you say that wouldn't sound mawkish or even condescending?-but had to do something. Sara looked directly into her eyes and smiled, without making a funny face, feeling Laura's empathy.

"You want to have a cognac here or go over to my place? I got an expensive bottle of Remy Martin for Christmas that I never even touched. We could have cognac and coffee," she looked around the restaurant, "without all these people bugging me with their wholesome happiness."

"I'd love it," Laura smiled, making herself promise, as she accepted the invitation, not to make a pass at this lovely woman.

Sara gave her the directions. It was not far, and twenty minutes later-most of the time spent looking for two parking spaces not more than a quarter of a mile away from Sara's apartment house-they met again at the door.

"Isn't this great?" Sara said sarcastically, sweeping one arm across the panorama of a fairly old and undistinguished neighborhood. "Ocean View. You know, the ocean is about ten miles from here. You can't see it even from the roof of the highest building around here. Oh well, home sweet home."

Laura noticed as they entered that Sara lived, apparently, in a duplex, on the upper floor. The bottom apartment was dark. They walked up a carpeted stairway to the second floor, where she manipulated several locks to get them inside.

"Can't be too careful," she whispered. "My neighbors downstairs have a house in San Rafael but can't stand commuting, so they live here during the week and go back on weekends. So there's never anybody down there on those nights. Hey, I could hold wild parties!"

She grinned and locked all the locks back up once they were inside.

"Does it make you nervous?" Laura asked, looking around at a comfortably furnished living room.

Sara shook her head. Her reddish bangs swished across her forehead. She was enchanting, and for the first time this evening Laura was unable to keep her eyes off Sara's body. For a short woman, she had a nice big round bottom and pretty large breasts. Laura realized that she had not noticed this before since she was being scrupulously careful not to leer or stare too intently.

Sara was about as short as both Deshona and Tiffany, a small woman, but not fine-boned and tiny like either of them. Her bone structure was more normal, and she had flesh on those bones. Her body was firm and curvaceous, and it inspired in Laura the urge to dig her fingers into that dark, smooth flesh. But she was careful not to let it show.

"It's a pretty safe neighborhood," Sara said, kicking off her shoes. "Once in a while some guy kills his girl friend, or vice versa. You know, regular big city stuff. Other than that, it's quiet. You saw it out there. Nobody on the street. Pretty peaceable. A few teenagers playing that loud boom boom music as they drive by. That's about it. Of course, you have to park your car about three blocks away, but then you have to do that just about everywhere."

"I know."

"Where do you live?"

Laura told her, and also mentioned that she was thinking of moving. She made up a few plausible reasons why, not alluding to her real reasons.

"You sure look uncomfortable in that suit," Sara said, having made fresh coffee and opened her pristine bottle of Remy Martin. "And that scarf looks expensive. You better take it off. Wouldn't want to spill brandy on it."

Laura agreed and removed it, folding it carefully and placing it on a little mail table near the door so she wouldn't forget it. They talked for another hour or more, warmed and relaxed by the cognac and the coffee. Sara sat in a loveseat across from the sofa where Laura sat. She pulled her legs up under her body, and squirmed from time to time as she grew more at ease, or more animated in her conversation, and her skirt rode up her thighs, making it more difficult for Laura not to look. Sara's legs were short and stocky, not spectacularly long and gorgeous, but they were well formed, and smooth, and dark brown, and Laura had a hard time keeping her eyes off them.

Laura herself remained as friendly and well-mannered as she could, even kicking off her shoes too, finally, and unbuttoning several buttons down the front of her suit jacket to make it more comfortable.

"Why don't you just take it off?" Sara asked, innocently. "When I come home, I just walk around here half-naked most of the time. When it isn't winter, that is. I'm just so happy not be in office clothes any more."

"I'm only wearing a slip under it," Laura explained. "Or I would have probably taken it off before this."

"I've seen a slip before," Sara said, making another in her variety of funny faces.

Laura, surprising herself, acted very demure, as if she were far too modest to do such a thing. Also, she slowly became aware that she was feeling a little woozy and tingly in the head from the warm mixture of coffee and cognac, and she wondered if Sara were feeling the same. Sara had gone to the bathroom to remove her contacts, and she reappeared wearing the wire-rimmed glasses that Laura had thought were so fetching on her.

She stumbled briefly before sitting down again, and Laura realized that she was feeling equally woozy. On top of that, by looking at her watch Laura discovered that it was nearly midnight. They had talked for hours.

"I might have to crash on your sofa," Laura warned Sara. "I don't know if I can drive home. I'm feeling pretty disequil... unequilib... oh shit... you know what I mean, like, disequilibriated, or something like that."

She and Sara both dissolved in whoops of merry laughter. Sara laughed so hard she had to take off her glasses and wipe her eyes.

"You saw me just about break my leg when I tried to sit down," she laughed. "I know exactly how you're feeling. Look, I could get arrested for letting you drive home like this."

She stood up, weaving a little, and retrieved some sheets and blankets from a linen closet at the end of the hallway leading to her bedroom and the bathroom. Quickly, she made up the longer sofa, where she had been sitting, into a makeshift bed. Then she disappeared briefly back down the hallway and returned a few minutes later with a pair of extra extra large men's pajamas, which she dropped on Laura's lap.

"You'll have to wear these." She made another funny face, briefly crossing her eyes. "They ain't very sexy, but it's all I got. I wear 'em and I've got a drawer full."

Laura held the top of the pajamas up by the shoulders. It was huge, and crisscrossed by an ugly green-and-brown plaid.

"It looks like a tent," she giggled softly, feeling giddy and strange.

"It is like a tent. I like 'em big. That's why I buy 'em that way. Lots of room inside. You can get lost."

"I don't want to get lost," Laura said. "I like it here."

Sara gave her a half-tipsy but meaningful stare, though Laura could not interpret its meaning at all.

"Okay... be a good little girl and put on your tent, and I'll go put on mine. I've got a drawer full of toothbrushes in the bathroom. That's one of the benefits of working in a dentist's office. They all fit on that electric toothbrush in there, so just help yourself."

Laura changed without self-consciousness, knowing somehow that Sara was not going to be peeping around the corner for a glimpse of her naked body. Not like I would be, she thought with a momentary flush of embarrassment, remembering, of all things, her first time with Karen (first time with any woman!) when she had unexpectedly caught fire after glimpsing Karen in her underwear and then without it.

But nothing like that was going on here. Laura was sure of it. She wasn't pushing things herself, wasn't trying to bring them to a head, and she was certain the thought had never crossed Sara's mind. She brushed her teeth, as directed, and returned to the small living room to see Sara standing there in her own 'tent, ' a striped one that looked sort of like a prison garment, appraising the makeshift bed on the sofa. She did a little curtsey for Laura, plucking out the loose and baggy material of the pajama pants from her hips with her fingers, pirouetting.

"How do you like it?" she said, with a winsome pout. "I gave you the plaid because I look so much better in stripes, don't you think? They make me look thinner and taller.

Laura raised her fingers to her lips and felt a tipsy giggle escape. "You look like you might disappear into all that cloth."

Sara winked. "I might. At least you'll know where to find me." She indicated the sofa with one hand. "I don't think this will do at all. Look, it's so narrow. You're going to fall off if you even turn over. Watch."

Sara quickly stretched out on top of the blanket she had spread out for Laura. Even though she was completely swathed in billows of loose, garishly striped cotton, Laura could still see her nice full breasts swaying and rolling under the fabric. Then, to make her point, Sara rolled over and promptly off the sofa onto the floor.

"See what I mean?" she grinned up at Laura, giving her a goofy grimace.

Laura reached down with one hand and helped her get up. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"No... you are. You're going to have to sleep in the other room... with me. Just hope you know how to keep your hands to yourself. You don't snore, do you? Come on."

Laura followed her at a distance, reluctantly. "I... think I'll be fine in here. Really."

Sara just shook her head slowly without even turning back to face Laura. "I won't hear of it. What if you break your neck. I don't have any insurance." She pointed to her bed, a queen-size bed. She had already turned down the covers a little. "Choose your side."

"It's your bed," Laura said. "You choose."

"Oh, it doesn't matter to me. I sleep all over it. Usually there's nobody else here."

Laura was briefly paralyzed by this situation. Part of her knew that in her wildest dreams she would give anything to spend the night in bed with Sara. Another part of her knew that if she did, she would have to lie there all night in fear that she might touch her accidentally. Her desire had become, though no less piquant, a little abstracted and ethereal, as if she were gliding through a dream where the real, genuine desires of her body were somehow filtered through a warm, hazy cloud of happy well-being. She just enjoyed being in the same apartment, in the same room, with her and didn't want to disrupt it by something so vulgar as sexual desire.

Sara saw Laura's abstracted state, reading it on her face. "What's the matter, you nervous? Didn't you ever go to a slumber party? I thought all you white girls in the suburbs were just a-slumber partying your lives away, after you gave up your Barbies."

"Now that's nasty," Laura grinned, poking her in the shoulder.

Sara smiled. "Maybe we could hang up a sheet in the middle of the bed, like they did in that movie. Remember that, the one with Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert? 'It Happened One Night, ' that's the one. They hung up a big sheet, like right there, in the middle. You can be on one side and I'll be on the other. And no peeking."

"All right... all right," Laura grinned back at her, giving in. "You win. "I'll take that side," she pointed to the side near the window.

Sara sulked. "I wanted that side," she teased.

"I thought you said-"

"I lied. I was being nice, since you're the guest."

Now Laura made a funny face, her first, mimicking one of Sara's bountiful number. Without another word, she pulled the bedcovers down further and got into the bed. Sara turned the light off and got in on the other side.

They lay silent in the dark for a few minutes. Laura listened to Sara's breathing, trying to determine whether she were falling asleep immediately or not. She herself could not sleep now that they were so close. Her nostrils were filled with Sara's delicious warm fragrance. She wore no artificial scent, Laura was sure. It was just the clean, aromatic fragrance of her natural body, her hair (now that she had removed the sexy red wig), maybe a faint whiff of the shampoo she had used that morning, nothing else.

This sweet natural fresh odor, and nothing else, Laura was convinced, made a soft, gentle pulsing awaken deep inside her pussy as she lay quietly in the dark next to Sara. Her eyes became gradually more used to the darkness, but she kept them turned toward the window, where broken shafts of moonlight filtered by the venetian blinds spilled into the bedroom.

"Now I can't sleep," Sara said, softly but abruptly. "Ain't that a bitch? Turn off the light and wide awake."

"Maybe you should count sheep or something," Laura murmured.

"I'm sorry for that crack about Barbie. That was a mean thing to say. And I like you, too. I don't know why I got mean like that all of a sudden."

Laura turned on her side to face Sara. It seemed the most natural thing to do in the world and she was not a bit self-conscious about it. "You're forgiven."

"I'm ugly now that I took off my wig. I'm glad you're not a guy."

"Do you keep wearing it when there's a guy here?"

Sara frowned in the dark. "Hasn't been one here in so long, I forget. I sort of gave up on them, you know? All they want is a little sweet black kitty, then they disappear. Who needs it. I bought me a vibrator."

"You did?"

Sara beamed. "I'd show it to you but I'm too embarrassed."

Laura did not trust herself to say anything further. They were silent for a few more moments. Sara turned the back of her head to the pillow again.

"Did you ever do it with a girl?" she suddenly asked, staring straight up at the ceiling in the dark. "I mean... don't... you don't have to answer that. I just wondered. It's really rude of me to ask. I only... I did once... when I was in college. I had an... affair, I guess you'd call it, with my roommate. Evangelina Torres. She was from Puerto Rico."

"Did you ever think of doing it again?" Laura said, after a long pause. "Just curious."

Sara turned her head sideways on the pillow to look at Laura. But she said nothing.

"I don't think you're ugly without your wig, if you want to know," Laura whispered.

"You're sweet," Sara said softly. "Let's go to sleep."

"Okay."

But their eyes were locked, even in the dark. They did not shut them. Laura suddenly felt the soft cognac-haze that had enveloped her begin to lift and dissipate. She reasoned that Sara was probably feeling the same. What was happening between them had become far more important and insistent.

"Ever think you might like to try it again?" Laura whispered, letting her eyes fall to Sara's incredibly sensual mouth.

Sara's dark eyes were pulsing. "I have thought of it," Sara whispered back. "In fact... I just thought of it again."

This was all the invitation Laura needed. She moved her face closer until her lips lightly brushed against Sara's. At first Sara was so still that she appeared not to notice. But then she moved her head slightly, so that her full lips also brushed Laura's. Her eyes were wide and shiny in the dark.

Their lips were still touching. Laura extended the tip of her tongue and ran it over Sara's beautifully-shaped upper lip. Sara shivered.

"Oooohhh, that tickles!" she breathed softly.

Laura withdrew her tongue back into her mouth and pushed her head forward, pressing her lips more firmly into Sara's. This time Sara's lips yielded, parted, moved sensually against Laura's, and the two of them quickly blended their mouths into a slow, searching, emotional kiss. At first they kissed totally without tongues, only sliding their lips together. Laura was gripped by a heavenly frenzy at kissing this wonderful mouth she had lusted after so long, and she carefully controlled every aggressive impulse, letting her moving mouth do her communicating. I love your mouth... I love kissing you... oh Sara... oh Sara...