Chapter 28

This time Laura was not as sad to see Brandi leave. Both of them knew they wouldn't see one another for a long time, if ever, but they instinctively knew that what they had shared was too intense for an everyday relationship. Nothing would ever make it routine. It was a blazing, incandescent moment, thrillingly pure and timeless.

"No one can come close to you in my heart, Laura," Brandi whispered to her as they parted. "Just remember that."

She gave Laura a picture, a publicity shot of her fantastic body, and signed it on the back.

"So nobody has to see it but you," she said.

The inscription read: To Laura - Now and forever, no one ever loved you more. Signed: Brandi "The Thigh" Pearson, aka Miss Olympia.

Laura smiled and her eyes filled with tears as she read it. "Now, when I want to come, I can look at your picture," she said softly.

"I've even got a video. I'll send it to you. But what am I going to do?"

"You'll just have to visit," Laura said slyly.

Brandi winked, and then she was gone.

It was only after she disappeared that Laura glanced down to the back corner of the picture. There Brandi had also written: 27 - an all-time record!

Laura smiled. She hadn't counted her own orgasms, but she knew it was about the same number. She was still exhausted. Her body ached, especially her breast which Brandi had nearly gnawed off while thigh-fucking her, and her pussy, from the crunching rape of the same thigh. She tried not to think about it, but had no luck. Just the memory of Brandi's hard, massive, silky thigh between hers, relentlessly mashing and crushing her pussy into rapturous spasms of nearly unbearable ecstacy, made her shiver involuntarily and get wet all over again.

But she went almost two months again without having sex, except solitary sex. When Brandi's video arrived in the mail, she spent an entire week just watching it and masturbating almost continuously. It was nearly an hour long, mostly Brandi in skimpy bikinis, posing, rippling her muscles, showing off her incredible body. Almost any portion was enough to arouse Laura. It was like an addiction. The first time she watched it, she came eight times before it concluded.

It wasn't like having Brandi actually there, but it was second best. After a few weeks, she could even watch small portions of it, even settle for one orgasm at a time.

Then, in a totally shocking and unsettling development, she and Yvette Farmer were thrown together at work on a project so time- sensitive that they ended up working after hours on it for a whole week. By the final evening, they were so exhausted that Laura suggested they take the rest of the work home to her place, order out for some dinner, and keep working there.

At first, they were working so hard that she didn't really focus much on how attractive Yvette was. True, she couldn't ignore the girl's beautiful face, smooth chocolate skin, and lean, tall body. But Yvette dressed in a very businesslike way, in suits, skirts below the knee, high collars, definitely not provocative at all. She was aloof, professional, and rarely let down her guard. She was also married, and had a small child, which tended to throw a wet blanket on whatever physical attraction Laura might feel for her.

But when they got to Laura's apartment, and started eating pizza while they poured over reports on Laura's kitchen table, things changed. Yvette relaxed. She took off her suit jacket and neck scarf. She was wearing a sheer blouse, and Laura could see the straps of her bra under the fabric, sharp white against her delicious dark skin. They were alone together in her apartment. Oh god, Laura thought, I want her!

I never realized it until now. She's so beautiful.

And from that moment on she couldn't keep her eyes off the girl. She knew that if she didn't stop staring, Yvette would notice the change, and become withdrawn, or possibly angry. But the curve of Yvette's firm ass under her skirt suddenly became a glimmer of throat-catching beauty to Laura. Yvette's delicate, perfectly-shaped throat beckoned her lips, Yvette's sensual mouth invited her, Yvette's high, small, jutting breasts captivated her, Yvette's friendly, open eyes and infectious giggle filled her with desire. At one point, she caught herself looking down at Yvette's calves, since her skirt had ridden up a little, revealing perfectly shaped, long, long legs. In fact, Yvette was nearly all legs, several inches taller than Laura.

Yvette caught her looking. But she didn't seem hostile, only curious.

"You have such gorgeous legs," Laura said, matter-of-factly, knowing no other way to escape than plunge forward. "Why do you wear long skirts?"

Yvette smiled mysteriously. "Haven't you ever heard that blacks have to try twice as hard to get half as far?"

"I guess I have heard that," Laura said softly.

"I dress as conservatively as I can," Yvette said. "I want them to pay attention to what I do, not to my legs."

"Makes sense," Laura said. "You'd probably cause a few traffic accidents with those."

"Thanks."

Yvette relaxed even more now, apparently feeling more comfortable with Laura now that they had spoken of such an intimate thing. She babbled about her husband and her five-year-old girl, and the more she ran on about her domestic happiness, the more Laura had to fight the urge to rip off her clothes and devour her on the spot, right there on the kitchen table.

Of course, she knew she would be perfectly restrained. She knew the thought of seducing Yvette was hopeless. But she couldn't stop her blood from racing when Yvette leaned back to stretch, clasping her arms above her head, yawning, arching her back and pushing her breasts forward so that the buttons on her blouse strained. They weren't large breasts, and she wore a very hard kind of bra, apparently again to discourage leering speculation, but when she stretched they pushed out enough to make Laura's pulse throb in her throat; and, though she tried to ignore it, deep inside her pussy.

"God, I'm exhausted," Yvette yawned, completing her stretch.

"Me too. We should take a break."

"Good idea. I could die for a martini. But I don't think I'd feel like going on after I drank it."

Laura could feel herself flushing. "Why don't we have one anyway? We've really given enough to this project. It won't hurt if we have to finish it tomorrow."

Yvette's eyes lit up. "You got the gin?"

"I've got vodka."

"That'll do just fine."

Laura quickly made both of them martinis. They went into her livingroom. Yvette kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs up under her ass on Laura's sofa.

"Gosh, you know, the first thing I do when I get home, outside of hugging my little girl, is get these godawful clothes off. Don't you hate wearing all this shit?"

Laura smiled. She hadn't changed either, out of respect for Yvette being unable to change.

"I could get you a sweatshirt, or a robe," she suggested. "I think I'll change, since you mention it."

"A sweatshirt's okay, if you have one."

"Be right back."

Quickly Laura changed into jeans and a loose, fairly revealing silk top that clung to her breasts, and dipped between them, showing the valley there. When it hung just right, you could see the large, swollen outlines of her nipples under the cloth. Karen had given it to her, then nearly ripped it one time in her hurry to get it off. Laura liked it. But she wouldn't have worn it for any man she thought was after her. Too provocative. However, maybe it would provoke Yvette into something.

She had an old sweatshirt that was cut off at the midriff level that she grabbed for Yvette, hoping she would be able to stand it if Yvette decided to wear it.