Chapter 227

Cecilia, whom Laura had not seen for months, dropped by Laura's new office, looking cherubic and supremely happy, obviously pregnant-in fact, gigantically pregnant-under a brightly-colored smock, beaming with her usual good spirits.

"Look at you in your new office and everything, sitting back there behind a big desk like a bigshot, Laura Bigshot," she laughed. "I'm afraid of you, girl. I heard you were promoted, but I had no idea you were this important."

Oh god, everyone's pregnant! Laura thought, uncharitably. First Jonelle. Then Charise (probably). Now Cecilia, who was the definite champ with a belly as big as a mid-sized watermelon. The whole damn world is pregnant! Laura cried out inwardly. All my darlings!

Still, she couldn't resist the ravishing Cecilia, with whom she had experienced some of her most stirring sexual moments, including several nuclear meltdowns involving the warm, sweet milk from Cecilia's very black and very shapely breasts. The mere memory of it was enough to make a hot little pulse flare alive deep inside Laura's pussy. And the sight of Cecilia pregnant was more than a hint that a repeat performance might lie not too far in their future.

She realized that Cecilia was thinking the same thing. She stepped inside and shut the door of Laura's office behind her. Laura got up from her desk and went over to her, nervously opening the door again. Even since Tamara had told her that she had surmised Laura was fucking both Randi and Deshona, just from having observed her with them in the office, Laura had been very skittish about appearances. She had made one mistake, with Randi, when Deshona had burst in on them, but since then she had been extra careful.

"Appearances," she whispered to Cecilia. "Can't be too careful."

Cecilia found this very droll. She looked down at her huge belly. "Excuse me. You think people are going to think we're having sex in here when I'm lugging this around?"

Laura shrugged and grinned weakly. "I guess not."

"Laura, just because you have an office now, I don't want you turning into a cold, ubiquitous blonde bitch like that Reardon vice president person."

Cecilia deliberately closed the door again. Laura could hardly suppress her laughter.

"'Ubiquitous'?" she asked. "What have you been reading?"

Cecilia cracked a very wide grin. "I said it right, didn't I? I got that out of a crossword puzzle. It's a great word, isn't it?"

"You mean Rhonda? You think I'm getting to be like her?"

Now Cecilia got affectionate, caressing Laura's cheek with the fingers of one hand and looking girlish and sexy, even though gigantically pregnant. "I don't think she could ever be as good as you," she cooed. "In fact, I wish we could have sex. Being preggy makes me kinda horny. I been wearing Ron out."

"Lucky Ron."

"I just came to give you a quick peak at what you'll be getting soon," Cecilia whispered, conspiratorially, looking back and forth, even though they were alone in Laura's office, and the blinds on the window were shut.

Without further ado, she lifted her expectant-mother's smock over her bra and quickly unsnapped the bra cups in the middle, pulling them apart and exposing her very large, swollen, deeply black breasts to Laura. Her pitch-black nipples were bulbous and gleaming like ripe dark plums, and Laura could feel a jolt of hot lust for Cecilia's body shoot through her.

"They're so big," she said, unable to take her eyes off the swollen globes.

"They're a little sore, too. So you can't touch."

But though she wouldn't allow Laura to touch them, she rubbed one of her huge, bulbous nipples with one fingertip. By now, Laura was mesmerized and throbbing with desire. During their last time together, months ago, they had fist-fucked each other and literally soaked Laura's apartment in breast milk in an orgy (an 'orghee, ' as Jane would have called it) of unbelievably hot fucking.

"How soon?" Laura asked in a parched, weird voice, obviously overcome by desire for Cecilia.

Cecilia flirted, enjoying teasing Laura. She slowly refastened her bra and let down her smock. "Next week or the week after."

"Won't you still be hurting?"

"I mean the baby, silly. The baby has to come out first. All you think of is yourself, Laura. You just want to know how soon you can get one of these big black titties in your mouth and feel that warm milk pouring down your throat. Right?"

Laura nodded, half-ashamed to be so selfish. She had not ever had orgasms like those produced by Cecilia's milk. Once she had even come while Cecilia was squirting it directly into her pussy.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

Cecilia winked. "You don't have to be sorry. I'm looking forward to it as much as you are. But I think it's still a couple of months off." She smiled, in full coquette mode now. "But I wanted you to have something to think of while you're waiting."

"Thanks so much. Can I kiss you?"

Cecilia looked around theatrically again, as if they were being watched. "If you don't touch the merchandise."

They shared a long, romantic kiss, with Laura bending forward over Cecilia's enormous belly. "I'm going to have dreams of you squirting me with milk every night now," Laura whispered.

"Good," Cecilia grinned. "That's the way I planned it. Now... wish me luck. I'll be a Mommy twice."

Laura wished her good luck and opened the door. She almost found it hard to believe that she had a long-term, not to mention a slightly kinky, sexual relationship with somebody's Mommy. On the way out the door that evening, she noticed the impossibly gorgeous Tamara struggling with a few boxes on her desk, and looking exasperated.

"Anything I can help you with?"

Tamara looked up and smiled. Her big brown eyes were pools you could easily fall into, if you let yourself. Laura knew many men had drowned in them by now.

"It's these darn boxes. I really have to take them home. Tomorrow I'm responsible for getting them to the convention, but my car broke down this morning."

"I could help you take them home," Laura offered, uncertain how her offer would be taken.

She and Tamara had spent a delicious night of fucking in Tamara's bed at the Sonoma Mission Inn, about three weeks ago. After that, however, Tamara had begged her to pretend 'it never happened'. Helping her with the boxes might seem like another advance to Tamara; she was always so suspicious, and even afraid of her own desires, Laura now knew.

"Oh, would you?"

Tamara positively sparkled. She was overjoyed at this offer, and from the artless, genuinely friendly way she accepted it, an observer might have thought they were strangers meeting for the first time. I had my tongue in this girl's exquisite pussy, Laura thought. And she acts like this is the first time we've met.

Up to now, she had barely trusted herself to really look at Tamara, since she didn't want to seem to be leering or appraising her lecherously. Tamara was almost excruciatingly beautiful, and today, even though it was not yet spring, she was wearing a bright, flowery spring dress which adhered almost magically to her every curve and contour. Since her body was nearly perfectly formed, she was really a splendid sight, and Laura had to be careful not to let her eyes linger too long on anything.

"Come on, you carry one and I'll carry one," she said, ruggedly, hoisting one heavy box with both hands after re-positioning her briefcase onto its strap and hanging it from one shoulder.

"Okay," Tamara said. "Sure you don't mind?"

Laura passed up the opportunity to make a smart-ass comment. Mind? I could sit here and look into those dark brown pools of yours for just about ever, my love. Fall in and drown, like James, or Mitchell, or whatever his name is, the linebacker. Lucky stiff. Ho ho. Laura couldn't suppress a little smile at her own joke. Tamara just took it for straightforward friendliness.

"I don't mind," Laura said evenly. "Follow me."

They walked slowly, each carrying a fairly heavy box, to the parking lot and loaded the boxes into the trunk of Laura's Camaro. Then Laura opened the passenger side door for Tamara, unable to keep her eyes off Tamara's superlative legs as she got in. The feather-light skirt of the flowery dress fell away from Tamara's amazing, perfect calves, smooth and light brown and bare, making Laura experience a tiny, hot, happy spasm in her cunt. I tried to forget how physically beautiful this girl is, she realized, knowing that Tamara was a bundle of trouble.

If Tamara saw Laura looking at her legs, she didn't mention it. Instead, they chatted as Laura drove, completely friendly, and yet with no spoken or silent acknowledgement on Tamara's side that they had shared a bed, made love heatedly for hours, moaning and coming repeatedly. As for Laura, she was afraid to allude to it either, partly because she had promised that her 'lips were sealed, ' partly because you never knew if Tamara might suddenly decide to bring it up.

When they got to Tamara's apartment, Laura helped carry one of the boxes up to it. Tamara lived on the second floor of a small apartment building in the Russian Hill neighborhood. Her apartment was airy and well-lighted, fresh and well-decorated, with leather furniture and bright curtains.

"Nice place," Laura said.

Now that they were alone together in Tamara's apartment and had put down the boxes-their only reason for being there together-Laura was feeling very awkward. She thinks I want to fuck her again, and that's the only reason I offered to help, she thought, looking at the way the dress clung to Tamara's perfectly shaped body. And boy, is she right. I can't help it.

"Thanks," Tamara said, keeping up the fresh ingenue act. "We try to keep it open and uncluttered and bright like this."

'We'? Laura knew that the linebacker didn't live here. For one thing, there were no traces of a man. For another, wasn't he in Chicago, or Boston, or Pittsburgh, or somewhere like that? Who did she mean by 'we'? Then she noticed a picture on the mantel, a young, slender black girl in a white leotard with a single long braid coming straight out of the center of her hair at the top of her forehead: the most bizarre hairdo Laura had ever seen. But the girl was oddly beautiful too, in a very eccentric way. Maybe this was 'we'.

"It's my roommate Shayla," Tamara said, seeing Laura looking at the picture. "She's a dancer."

"I can see."

"Actually, she's in New York this minute. She's trying to break into the Dance Theatre of Harlem. They're having auditions. I think she has a good chance. One reason we keep it so spare around here is that she dances. Here, I mean. Practices, you know."

Laura nodded. "She's very pretty. You two must have the boys beating down the door."

This made Tamara nervous. Perhaps it reminded her too closely of what she and Laura had done. There was a long, uncomfortable pause while Laura wondered if Tamara were going to offer her a Coke, or a glass of wine, or if she just preferred Laura to leave and to quit bringing up these unpleasant memories of their wildly exciting night together. Laura just looked at her, not making it easy.

"So..." Laura finally said. "How's Kirk, or George, or whatever his name is? The linebacker."

"Stewart."

"Right... him."

Laura smiled, musing to herself, remembering how she had asked if Stewart would mind having Laura make love to his fiancée, and how Tamara had responded, 'Who cares what he thinks, I thought I'd never get you to do this.' It was a wonderful memory because Laura had taken it for an invitation to fuck the beautiful girl from here to Thursday, which she had promptly done.

"Oh, he's fine," Tamara said brightly, looking out the window, then down at her fidgeting fingers.

"I'll bet he liked that nightie."

Tamara smiled and would have blushed had she not had her ravishing coffee-and-cream skin. "I'm afraid it got a little... ripped. It's ruined."

Now Laura, unaccountably, blushed herself. "Don't worry about it," she said quickly. "It was a present... to you both."

"It gave him a woody, like you said," Tamara tittered girlishly. "Wow, did it ever."

I hope you enjoyed it, dear. Laura smiled at her primly. "Some things never change," she murmured softly. "Where is Stewart these days?"

"He's in Pittsburgh. It's like his job, you know."

Laura nodded. Stewart and Shayla, the roommate, were both out of town. I guess that leaves just you and me, her eyes said to Tamara. Here. Alone. Together.

"Thanks for helping with the boxes," Tamara said, a signal for Laura to leave.

"Oh... no trouble. Would you like to go out and... have dinner or something?"

Laura hated putting herself in a position to be rejected, especially by this ravishing, fresh young girl with the perfect face and body, and the most confusing, contradictory attitude. But she couldn't help it. One night with Tamara would never be enough. And there was again no one to know. Laura had to risk it.

Tamara shook her head. "I'm just having yoghurt and wheat germ. Got to watch my weight. Stewart doesn't like fat girls."

Laura appraised Tamara's stunning figure. "I don't think you need to worry about that."

Tamara smiled sweetly. Laura wanted to kiss her. She wanted their relationship to be different, not this cat and mouse, but a full, throbbing, feeling connection. She wanted to break through these weird defenses that Tamara threw up.

"I had a dream about you," she lied, remembering that she had used this lie before with other girls, a shameful ruse and cheap, sinister manipulation.

"Really?"

Tamara was all ears. She was pretty self-involved, Laura realized, and eager to hear what Laura had dreamed, although at the same time Laura detected a vague fear behind her eagerness, as if the dream were going to be about a raging bonfire of girl-girl fucking.

Laura nodded slowly. "I was kissing you." She paused, looking into the deep brown pools, drowning in them already. "That's all. Just that. It was wonderful. I really loved it."

Tamara's large brown eyes grew briefly glassy as she fell under the spell of Laura's voice, Laura's words, and the pleasure of being the center of someone's dream, someone beautiful like she was. But then the romantic fog cleared out, and her eyes became sharply focused again.

"I don't think we should do that, though," she said in a small voice, turning away. "I was hoping we might forget that happened."

Now Laura was looking at her dark honey-gold hair as Tamara looked out the window. Again she marveled at Tamara's tiny waist, while trying to figure out a way around these objections.

"I'm afraid I haven't had any luck forgetting," Laura confessed softly. "It was a very special night for me."

Tamara looked back over her shoulder skeptically. "You must've had other nights like that. Several, I bet."

Her eyes sparkled flirtatiously. Laura could never tell from one moment to the next whether Tamara was flirting or rejecting her. Of course, she resigned herself, it had been that way from the start. Never a dull moment.

She shook her head. Why not? What was another lie? "Not really. I'm sure you know you're a very special girl. Very beautiful."

Tamara loved being told she was beautiful. She turned back to Laura. "Thank you. But sometimes... it's a pain."

"Everybody wants you?"

Tamara nodded, very serious. She seemed to have forgotten for the moment that Laura was also beautiful, that everyone must want Laura too. Laura smiled at her warmly, unthreateningly.

"I know how it feels," she said softly. "I'll go."

She turned to leave, but Tamara caught her elbow. "Please don't."

Laura turned back. Tamara was suddenly very pliant, receptive, her eyes throbbing, her smile ambiguous but not hostile. Laura lifted one forefinger and ran it tenderly over the girl's full lips, touching them sensually and skillfully, her eyes never leaving Tamara's.

"This is what I dreamed," she whispered.

God, I'm a shit, she thought, still gazing intensely into Tamara's deep, swirling brown eyes. I'll do anything to get her again, won't I.

"I thought you said we were kissing," Tamara whispered back.

"We were. Like this."

Laura brought her lips close enough to brush Tamara's, still looking deeply into her eyes. She brushed their lips together sensually, then pushed hers forward, moving her mouth slowly into the curves of Tamara's. They kissed without touching, just letting their mouths press and curve together and communicate the deep, throbbing emotions and sexual stirrings they were both feeling.

It seemed like a long time before either opened her mouth, but then they both slowly did it at once, and their kiss became more complex, more emotionally moving, wetter and warmer. Laura was very reluctant to invade Tamara's mouth with her tongue, feeling that it was too aggressive for the still-skittish and indecisive girl. Instead, she touched Tamara's brilliantly white teeth with the tip of her tongue, then slipped it up under Tamara's upper lip, running it back and forth in the warm crease.

This excited Tamara, who quickly, in response, slipped her own tongue fully into Laura's mouth. Laura met it eagerly with her own tongue, and they both began to breathe a little harder as their kiss became more intimate. Still the only parts of their bodies touching were their mouths.

Laura remedied this by caressing Tamara's face with her fingertips, touching her with infinite tenderness to reassure her and draw her further out. Soon they stopped kissing, if only to catch their breath. But Laura moved her lips to Tamara's smooth cheek, brushing the long dark-honey hair away from her beautiful neck.

"May I kiss your beautiful neck?" she whispered, doing it anyway, without permission.

Tamara allowed it, still breathing audibly, clearly excited, and very accustomed to being worshipped. Laura lips rose to her ear. She kissed the lobe, then flicked her tongue into the curvy brown whorl, breathing hot breath into it behind her tongue. This had the desired effect, and Tamara erupted in shivers.

"Oooohhhh!" she gasped.

Laura embraced her while she was shivering. Now they kissed ravenously, Tamara returning everything equally, her arms around Laura, her mouth aggressive, her fingers digging into Laura's flesh through her blouse. As they devoured each other, Laura's hands dropped to Tamara's ass, squeezing the firm, resilient cheeks through the thin summery dress. Oh god, I want this girl, I want to rape her! she realized.

"Oh... Laura!" Tamara gasped as their mouths finally came apart, and she buried her face in Laura's neck. "We shouldn't do this. It's as bad as last time."

"Or as good," Laura purred, stroking her back with one hand, through her dress, while with the other she continued to clutch one delectable round buttock. "I think we should just go ahead and do whatever we want," she whispered. "No one will ever know but us."

Tamara twisted her head to signify 'no, ' her face still pressed to Laura's neck, where it felt very good to Laura, refusing to look up. "I promised myself I wouldn't let this happen again," she said, her voice barely audible.

Now Laura let her hand, the one on Tamara's splendid ass, relax and fall away. Tamara needed further convincing and was not going to be simply swept off her feet. Laura slipped two fingers under Tamara's chin and raised her face up, kissing her again, slowly, then heatedly.

"No one will ever know," she repeated softly, cradling the girl's beautiful face in both hands. "There's no one to know. Just us."

"I'll know," Tamara whimpered.

"Are you afraid you'll confess it to someone?" Laura asked, after another searching kiss.

Tamara shook her head. "I'll just... feel guilty."

Laura smiled, now kissing her neck again, a gorgeous long creamy brown neck. "I can help you get over that," she murmured. Again she breathed into Tamara's ear. "I want to make you come."

"Oh... Laura," Tamara gasped, her deep brown eyes showing a mix of terror and surrender all intermingled together.

"You want to come, don't you?" Laura coaxed her. "Remember when you came in my arms? In the bed at the hotel? When you came all those times? Wasn't it good?"

"Oh god... yes! I never came like that before." She furrowed her brow slightly, her eyes worried. "Or since, either."

It was a confession of sorts, Laura realized. No matter how fiercely Stewart may have fucked her after getting his woody-seeing Tamara in the flimsy nightie Laura had given her would give a blob of protoplasm a woody, Laura reflected-he was not able to duplicate the sublime sexual experience Laura had given her. It was a mixed blessing, of course, since Tamara was deathly afraid it meant she now couldn't enjoy sex with men as much as with women, since she was generalizing her feelings into a fixed law of nature in her mind. Laura knew this was nonsense, and she was eager to help Tamara learn it too.

Again she kissed the girl, punctuating each comment with a slow, simmering, passionately inventive tongue-kiss. "Why don't we go into your bedroom?"

"I can't," Tamara shook her head, whispering.

Laura kissed her again. "Yes... you can. Just pretend you're showing it to me."

Tamara grinned, as if she had been out-maneuvered. Without replying, she took Laura's hand and drew her past the small kitchen, down a short dark hallway, and into the rear bedroom. Laura was surprised to see a twin bed and a white wrought iron vanity table, and little else.

Laura smiled, looking down at the narrow bed. Small, but it will do, she thought. "Turn around," she murmured, turning Tamara by gentle hand pressure on her shoulder.

Tamara turned, and Laura slowly unzipped the back of her flowery, summery dress, watching the smooth, café-au-lait skin of Tamara's wonderful back come into view, crossed by the white strap of her bra. Laura bent forward and kissed the nape of her neck, holding up the thick flag of her dark-honey-gold hair with one hand. Then she let her lips trail down over the girl's delicious back, kissing the warm, smooth skin everywhere while she peeled open the dress until it began to slide off Tamara's shoulders.

She caught the limp dress before it slipped totally off and fell to the floor. "Don't want to muss this up," she murmured. "This beautiful dress. You look so stunning in it."

Carefully, she drew it down Tamara's body until Tamara could step out of it. Laura laid the dress across the back of the chair by the vanity table. Tamara kicked off her shoes and turned to Laura, now wearing only her bra and panties. A sexy little smirk curled the corners of her mouth since she knew what a desirable sight she presented. You want to fuck me just like all the others, her self-satisfied little smile said. You bet I do, darling, Laura smiled back at her. I want to eat you alive. I can't help myself.