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Subject: {ASSM} Laura's Story - Chapter 240 by Miranda Mars
Date: Fri, 17 Nov 2000 14:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "240dawn.txt" begin>

                              
     Chapter 240
     
     
     Her afternoon with Shavon was undeniably sweet, and
chock full of a sexual intensity that Laura had not
experienced for a while, more emotional than her recent
trysts with Karen and Ada.  But the thought of Ada would not
leave her, or the pain she felt at having scared her so
completely that she could think of no way out but to flee
back to Texas.  Laura knew Ada had loved `playing tennis'
with Laura, but the fear of her own sexual nature,
apparently, had been too strong.  And I wonder how
complicated it was by the fact that she was my boss? Laura
wondered, idly.
     
     Even after leaving Shavon, her body still tingling in
the afterglow of their exhausting sexual encounter, she
found her mind gnawing over the Ada problem.  I've got to
talk to her, she thought.  I've got to reassure her.  It's
okay for her to want it.  Ada, I made you pant! she thought,
for more than the second time.
     
     When she got home to her darkened apartment, she poured
a glass of wine and sat in the dark in front of her `view'
window, finally deciding to check her voice mail.  She
checked work first, surprised, as always, to find a message
marked `private.'  It was from Ada.
     
     "Laura . . . it's me.  I know you must have been a
little shocked.  Can't say I blame you."
     
     Ada's voice betrayed not a trace of the raw,
nauseating, uncontrollable whine and twang it frequently did
when she was upset or excited. It was calm, distant.  Laura,
though she felt everything had become a little cold, was
relieved, since Ada's voice was, for all the woman's charm
and sweet nature and irresistible sex appeal, the single
feature that made her recoil.
     
     "I guess I have an apology to make," Ada went on, now
seeming nervous and sad at the same time.  "What I had with
you, what we had together, was a total shock.  Don't get me
wrong, I loved every minute, every second of it.  I still
think about it all the time.  But I sure didn't expect
something like that to happen.  I'm pretty, you know, self-
sufficient.  My relationships have been . . . oh, you know,
not successful, not deep or lasting."   There was a brief
pause during which Laura thought she could detect a very
real despair, something she had seen hinted at in the past
in Ada's face when she thought she was not being noticed.
"Then you.  It took me by surprise.  Not only the . . .
`tennis.'  You know what I mean by that.  But the feelings I
had.  I really started . . . liking you too much.  It just .
. . didn't feel right to me, but it was so strong I couldn't
stand it.  I had to stop.  I had to.  I wish we could go
back right now to the shower . . . and forget the rest, you
know?  But don't get me wrong.  I think about the rest every
day, every night.  I still want you, if it makes you feel
any better.  There, I said it.  I'm rambling.  I have to
stop talking.  I loved knowing you.  I'll never forget it.
Really.  Have a great life, okay?  Bye."
     
     Laura was in tears, in the dark, with barely enough
volition left to hang up the phone.  It was so quiet that
she could hear the traffic in the streets downstairs.  The
city's lights were blurred by the stinging water in her
eyes.
     
     For some odd reason in her mind she heard the refrain
of an old song that she didn't even know she remembered.
     
     More than you know,
     More than you know,
     Girl of my heart,
     I love you so . . .
     
     And I don't even love her, she sniffled to herself,
wondering where the Kleenex was.  That voice . . . that
horrible voice.  I don't.  I love Deshona.  I love Randi.  I
even half-love Shavon, after today.  I don't love you, Ada.
How could you think so?
     
     Lately I find,
     You're on my mind,
     More than you know . . .
     
     What did she mean by `the rest'? Laura wondered.  `I
wish we could go back right now to the shower . . . and
forget the rest,' Ada had said.  It was inescapable.  Ada
had meant that the fucking was wonderful, but the feelings
had scared the daylights out of her.  Or maybe they had both
scared the daylights out of her.
     
     Fresh tears streamed silently down Laura's cheeks.  I'm
going to have to have something stronger than wine, she
thought.  This pain is too hard.  She got up, went to the
kitchen, and poured herself a vodka over ice.  After
drinking it, she felt better.  She recalled that in the
past, feeling this kind of pain, she would run to Karen, and
they would torture each other into one excruciating climax
after another through an entire evening of demonic and
depraved perversion, until the emotional pain was driven
into the shadows by a physical agony that could not be
ignored.
     
     But she had given that up in recent months.  And
anyway, she and Karen had already revisited their little
`chamber of horrors' only a few nights ago; enough to last
them both for a while, Laura thought grimly.
     
     Whether I'm right,
     Whether I'm wrong,
     Girl of my heart,
     I'll string along . . .
     
     The song would not go away.  That was the bad thing
about songs.  Once they got lodged and stuck in your brain,
there was no getting rid of them.
     
     Laura had another vodka and glumly tried to get some
sleep.  By morning, she had managed only a few hours of
slumber, and many of tossing and rumpling the sheets and
staring hollow-eyed into the darkness.  She dragged herself
out of bed for work, going through the motions as if in a
dream, the dream she had not had through inability to sleep.
     
     Feeling emotionally and physically numb, she noticed
Shontay Something again as she passed through the Project
Management area on the way to her office.  This morning
Shontay wore a black business-style pants suit that was
identical to the tan one she had been wearing yesterday.
Looking at it, Laura thought the pants must be about two-
thirds the length of her own, Laura's, whole body.  God, she
is tall.  And skinny.
     
     But this time Shontay was not surrounded by other
employees, as she previously had been, and Laura was so
fascinated that she again had to warn herself not to stare.
The woman wasn't very attractive sexually (not like Ada!
Laura realized with a pang), but there was clearly something
about her that riveted Laura.  The cold exterior, all
business, aloof, even verging on the hostile, no smiles, no
softness.  Maybe it's the worst temptation of all, Laura
thought.  You want to break through it, like I did with
Deshona.  Talk about making Ada pant!  That really wasn't
hard at all.  Imagine the challenge, making Shontay pant.
It might even be impossible.
     
     But right now she didn't have enough energy even to
contemplate it.  In her office she put her head on her desk
and managed to sleep for twenty minutes before the telephone
awoke her.  She got through the rest of the day somehow,
and, dead tired, found herself driving aimlessly down
unfamiliar streets on her way home, until she realized where
she was.  In a kind of stupor, she had driven to the
neighborhood where Tamara had lived, before fleeing to Italy
with her boyfriend.  Where Laura and the dancer Shayla had
spent a wonderful night fucking and laughing and giggling
and fucking again.
     
     What am I doing here? she wondered.  Why did I come
here?
     
     She parked down the street from the apartment building,
only remembering slowly, as she sat in her car, refusing to
get out, that Shayla had moved to New York to join the Dance
Theatre of Harlem, and that her friend Dawn and Dawn's
boyfriend had taken over the apartment.  Dawn.  Laura
recalled having been sharply struck by her good looks and
deeply black skin, as well as her friendly manner.  For
Laura, a girl's very black and silky smooth complexion was
wildly aphrodisiacal, though even admitting it to herself
was embarrassing, since it seemed somehow perversely racist
or twisted to respond sexually to the color of someone's
skin.
     
     She had on a few occasions confessed it bashfully to
Cecilia, to Charise-her darling Inky-two girls whose skin
was just as deeply black as Dawn's, and both had seemed
delighted to learn she found their skin so erotic.  Both
were artlessly pleased and flattered, and if anything had
encouraged her to keep loving it and quit worrying about it.
With them Laura had relaxed, and allowed herself the supreme
pleasure of kissing every secret inch of their delicious,
deeply black bodies, but she could not help feeling skittish
and self-conscious about it around someone she had not
shared a bed with.
     
     On the other hand, sitting there in the car thinking it
over made her hungrier than ever to see the girl again, as
if to validate her earlier attraction, the brief, wild, hot,
happy impulse of familiar lust she had felt on seeing Dawn,
when Shayla had introduced them, for the first time.  Dawn
lived with her boyfriend, which clearly meant the chances of
successfully beckoning her toward the kind of friendship
Laura would cherish most were almost non-existent.  So, as
she got out the car, she questioned herself.
     
     Do you really want to do this?  You're just going to
make yourself feel worse.  You know how hard it is to chat
and make nice with some ravishing dark black gorgeous girl
you're dying for while she's cheerfully rattling on about
her boyfriend.  It'll kill you, Laura.  Is it going to make
you feel any better to see someone else you can't have?
First Ada, then Dawn?
     
     Meanwhile, as if sleepwalking, she was heading for the
apartment house down the street.  When she got there and
quickly called up the courage to knock on the door of the
correct apartment, it was answered by a young, quite
handsome black man wearing a Chicago Cubs baseball cap and a
yellow sweatshirt.
     
     "Oh . . . maybe I got the wrong apartment," Laura
stammered, blushing a horrific deep red.  "I was looking for
. . . Shayla.  She's a . . . dancer."
     
     He smiled.  "No, you got the right one."  He opened the
door a little wider.  "She went to live in New York.  We
took over the place for her."
     
     Now he opened the door even wider, and behind him Laura
could see Dawn, back in the kitchen, peering over his
shoulder at her, too far away to register immediately on
Laura's ever-ready lust meter.  But now she seemed to
recognize Laura and came toward them.
     
     "Let her in, Robert," she said to him.  "It's Shayla's
friend.  The one who knew Tamara.  I told you about her."
     
     Robert looked a little puzzled but not unfriendly.  He
now opened the door wide and invited Laura inside.  But she
realized that Dawn was giving her a weird look.  The last
time they had met, Dawn had mentioned that she and her
boyfriend were moving into this apartment the next day.  Why
would Laura come here looking for Shayla, whom she knew very
well had moved?  In fact, why would she, Laura, be here at
all?
     
     But in the confusion of the moment, and out of the urge
to be polite, she smiled and came in from the kitchen,
holding a dish towel in her hands.  Robert, however, seemed
to be in a hurry.  He grabbed a jacket and a lunch cooler.
     
     "You'll have to excuse me," he said to Laura.  "I was
just on my way out.  Nice to meet you."
     
     "Oh.  Nice to meet you too, Robert," Laura smiled,
genuinely.
     
     Not really knowing why she had come there herself,
except to dissipate her sadness, she really hadn't viewed it
as a sexual opportunity, or him as a competitor.  She had
been fiercely attracted to Dawn the first time she had seen
her, but Laura was used to that happening, even on the
street, or in a store.
     
     But as soon as the door closed behind him, and she
could get a better, less guarded, look at Dawn, she realized
that she was kidding herself.  Her thoughts of Ada were
instantly relegated to the background.  How could I have
thought I wasn't interested in her? Laura wondered, letting
her eyes, though surreptitiously, roam all over Dawn's face,
then take furtive glimpses of her body.
     
     The girl might not be conventionally beautiful, but to
Laura she was thrillingly lovely.  She had dark, intelligent
eyes, an amused, sensual mouth, a high forehead, and her
smooth very black skin was every bit as dark as Laura had
remembered.  Reliving the twinge of embarrassment she had
felt sitting downstairs in her car, Laura could feel a tiny,
hot, insistent itch inside her pussy as she wondered how
Dawn's smooth cheek would feel under her fingertip.  Even
Dawn's hair, which was wiry and coarse, black and shiny,
spritzing up from her head in a disorganized array of stiff
filaments, tied by a white cloth and spewing out the top in
an unruly bush, was enchanting to Laura, who found it
touchingly natural and fetching.
     
     Afraid she might be staring without knowing it, Laura
looked away nervously.  But Dawn was friendly and relaxed.
     
     "You must've forgot, right?" she said, gently.  "I
mean, about her moving?  She been gone a few weeks now.  I
just got a letter from her yesterday."
     
     "Oh," Laura smiled.  "How's she doing?"
     
     "Fine, I guess.  She says it's hard work."
     
     "I'll bet.  Well, she's in good shape.  She can handle
it."
     
     Laura only realized after saying it that this remark
seemed to have sexual innuendoes.  Dawn only smiled and said
nothing.
     
     "I was just cooking up some beans and rice," she said,
smiling very warmly.  "Why don't you come over here and sit
so I don't burn `em."
     
     They moved to the back of the apartment, where the
kitchen was located.  Laura realized, following Dawn, that
she was completely aroused and stimulated by Dawn's lovely
face and her marvelously smooth and very dark skin, but that
she had no idea what the girl's body looked like, other than
the fact that Dawn was not shockingly skinny, like Shontay
Something, or fat either.  And Dawn wore a large, roomy
sweatshirt and baggy brown pants and sweat socks, so that it
was impossible to draw any other conclusions.  She was
charmingly oblivious to her personal appeal, apparently, and
seemed unembarrassed to be talking with Laura, who was
dressed to the nines, while looking like she had just thrown
on the nearest rumpled garments.
     
     She looks like a college girl just cooking up a quick
dinner, Laura realized.  Laura watched, fascinated, enjoying
every exquisite detail of Dawn's presence as Dawn moved
around her small kitchen, whipping up a fragrant, appetizing
meal.
     
     "Wow, it looks good," Laura said.  "Where'd you learn
to cook like that?"
     
     "My Gramma," Dawn smiled.  "She mostly raised me.  I
can cook a lot more than this.  I just do this cause it's
quick, after I get home from school."
     
     "I'll bet Robert likes it."
     
     Dawn grinned, as if to say, Laura suspected, `He likes
my pussy, then he likes this, in that order.'  I don't blame
him, Laura thought.  But Dawn surprised her.
     
     "Oh . . . he probably won't eat any of this at all.
Says I make it too hot.  And it don't have any meat in it.
I like it hot, though.  You want to try some?"
     
     Laura shrugged.  She was certainly enjoying Dawn.  Just
being in her presence felt good.  Dawn was fresh and bright
and friendly, devastatingly attractive too, though Laura
tried not to think about that part.  Robert, after all, had
only left a few minutes ago.
     
     "I didn't mean to drop by and invite myself for
dinner," Laura said, feeling uncomfortable.
     
     "You ain't inviting," Dawn said, with a crinkly-nosed,
infectious smile.  "I'm the one who's inviting."  She
stirred the beans and rice one last time, then covered them
and turned off the fire.  "There, it's ready.  We can let it
sit for a few minutes and talk.  Then we can eat."
     
     "What about Robert?"
     
     "Oh, he was going off to work.  He won't be back until
after two this morning.  He work nights for PG&E."
     
     Laura could not prevent her heart from racing at this
news, though she knew she shouldn't be feeling that way.
     
     "So . . ." Dawn said, walking back into the larger room
of the apartment, with Laura following.  "Why did you drop
by?"
     
     Laura could feel the blood rising in her face again,
but she took a couple of quick breaths, trying to keep from
turning into a lobster.  There was also something about the
way Dawn had asked the question that seemed to imply an
ulterior motive on Laura's part.
     
     "I . . . guess I really don't know why," she stammered,
sitting across from Dawn in a flimsy-looking canvas
director's chair.
     
     Dawn sat on the brown leather sofa, where Laura had
exuberantly fucked with Shayla on her last visit.  It was
hard to look across at her without remembering Shayla's lean
dark brown dancer's body stretched out across it, with Laura
nestled between her spread thighs, passionately tonguing and
sucking her delicious black pussy.  It caused a dangerous
flare-up of sexual excitement in Laura, who desperately
searched in her mind for a topic which would quickly squelch
this feverish and unavoidable lust, which in this case was
not even directed at Dawn but at Shayla, who was not even
present.
     
     Dawn looked solemnly at her, but when it appeared that
Laura would have nothing to add, she relaxed her shoulders
imperceptibly, and a small, very alluring, amused grin
tugged at both corners of her mouth.
     
     "Where are you going to school?" Laura asked, hoping
the subject shift wasn't too abrupt or obvious.
     
     "San Francisco State."
     
     "Majoring in?"
     
     "Don't know yet.  Maybe economics."
     
     "Economics," Laura said.  "Wow . . . isn't that pretty
deep?"
     
     Dawn's eyes twinkled.  "Gets you a good job."
     
     "You must be brighter than I am if you can make sense
out of it.  I can barely balance my checkbook."
     
     Dawn smiled and let it pass.  "Did you come over to see
me?" she asked, her dark eyes holding Laura's.
     
     Now Laura was unable to contain her hot blush, which
suffused her face like a red cloud.  "I guess . . . I did,"
she stammered, almost choking on her words.
     
     "You don't have to blush," Dawn said, concerned.  "I
think you're beautiful.  Like that Victoria's Secret girl,
the gorgeous one with all the hair.  I kind of like it that
you wanted to visit.  I know you ain't coming over here to
see Robert.  I might have to scratch your eyes out, if I
thought so," she giggled.  "You didn't even know he was
going to be here anyway, right?"
     
     Laura nodded.  "Right.  I didn't."
     
     Dawn shifted on the sofa, pulling her legs up under her
butt, growing more animated, more girlish, more interesting
to Laura by the second.
     
     "You and Shayla had a little thing going, didn't you."
     
     Again Laura blushed, unable to prevent it.  "Why do you
say that?"
     
     "Cause she told me, that's why.  She said you guys did
it.  She said you did it with Tamara too, which is why she
ran off with that bonehead football player to Italy."
     
     Laura gulped and tried to make the blood in her face
fall by will power alone.  "I guess there aren't any more
secrets left in the world these days, are there," she half-
croaked.
     
     "Don't worry, I wouldn't tell anybody.  Certainly not
Robert.  Ain't none of his business anyway."  She smiled
broadly.  "But I am a little envious.  After all, I didn't
get none of what they both got . . . and they both seemed to
like it a lot."
     
     Now Dawn's lovely face dipped, and she was looking up
at Laura from under her eyelids, across the room, a
dangerous and exciting glance, full of unspoken-but fairly
clear-meaning.
     
     "You're the most beautiful of all," Laura said quietly,
almost under her breath, hoping it didn't sound too much
like a seduction line.  Only a second after she said it did
she remember Tamara, who had the unquestioned, conventional
beauty that easily contradicted her.
     
     Dawn shook her head.  "Tamara is the world champion
beauty," she said softly.  "She's a little hollow up here .
. ." she pointed both forefingers at the sides of her head.
"But down here . . ."   Now Dawn ran her hands in wavy
fashion up and down her own body, but out three or four
inches from her clothes.  "She got it.  Curves and more
curves.  The dudes cream when they see her."
     
     She looked pointedly at Laura as she said this,
implying that Laura had `creamed' too.  Laura felt another
blush coming on and fought it down valiantly.  She nodded.
     
     "She is beautiful."  Now she caught Dawn's eyes and
held them with hers.  "But smart and beautiful is a more
lethal combination."
     
     Dawn broke into soft laughter.  "I ain't smart.  Just
because I'm taking economics?  Shit . . . I can't balance my
checkbook either."
     
     "Have you three known each other long?" Laura asked,
wanting to veer away from this dangerous conversation.
     
     Dawn nodded.  "High school.  Mopsy, Flopsy, and
Cottontail, right?" she grinned, fluffing the wire brush of
hair that spurted up at the top of her head from the white
cloth band.  "Three black bunny rabbits.  Tamara got all the
guys, Shayla got all the awards, and I got the grades.  I
want to know, is that fair?"
     
     "Which did you want, the guys or the awards?"
     
     "I want everything," Dawn said, forthrightly.
"Everything."
     
     This time she looked straight into Laura's eyes, both
playful, which she seemed to be normally, and serious.
Laura swallowed.
     
     "I'm sorry," Dawn said, noticing it.  "I didn't offer
you anything to drink.  We got beer.  Robert drinks beer.
And I got tea.  I got Evian, too.  You like that?"
     
     Laura nodded.  "That would be fine."
     
     "You know," Dawn said, returning from the refrigerator
with a plastic bottle of Evian for Laura, "if you had me,
then you will have had the whole rainbow."  She smiled
sweetly at Laura, as if she had said nothing unusual.  "As
my uncle used to say, we are a rainbow race.  Tamara is
almost white enough to pass, except for her face has a
little hint of the African in it.  Shayla is just plain
normal chocolate.  And I'm as black as an old rubber tire."
     
     She sat down again on the sofa and grinned at Laura,
who was stunned and excited by this clear invitation.  She
glowered briefly at Dawn to let her know that she did not
accept this characterization.
     
     "Or a beautiful knife of priceless obsidian," she
murmured, giving Dawn a murky, ambiguous look.
     
     "Excuse me, my vocabulary ain't great.  What's
obsidian?"
     
     "It's a very black polished glassy stone formed by
cooling lava," Laura said.  "The Indians made knives and
arrowheads out of it.  It's one of the most beautiful things
you've ever seen.  There's also a `Rainbow Obsidian,' in
case you're interested."
     
     Laura couldn't help raising one eyebrow.
     
     "What does it do?"
     
     Laura shook her head.  "I don't know, just sits there
and lets its admirers think how beautiful it is, I guess."
     
     Dawn pondered it.  "I think I'd rather be a tire than a
knife, thanks."
     
     "You don't look a bit like a tire," Laura grinned at
her, now totally falling, a sensation she recognized but had
not felt for a while, even with Ada.
     
     You lovely, beguiling thing, I'm beginning to want you
badly.
     
     "I don't know," Dawn said, petulantly.  "I'm kinda
round in places."
     
     Laura could feel her own blood beating in her neck.
She didn't know what to do, how far to go.  "Can I feel?"
she asked, very softly.
     
     Dawn nodded slowly.  "Guess you can.  Come over here."
     
     Laura got up from the director's chair and went over to
the sofa.  She placed her water bottle on the gnarled, worn
mahogany coffee table and sat down next to Dawn, very close.
Now she could feel the hot blood almost roaring through her
body.  She was closer than she had ever been to Dawn, so
close that the smooth, dark sheen of Dawn's cheek actually
beckoned to her lips.  So lovely, she thought.  You are so
fresh and lovely.
     
     Dawn turned her face to Laura.  Her dark eyes were
murky and questioning.  Her mouth, Laura now realized,
staring at it with undisguised hunger for the first time,
was a marvel of sensuality.  She raised a finger and ran the
tip along the surface of Dawn's full lower lip.  Dawn's eyes
dropped to the finger as Laura moved it.  She let her tongue
emerge just long enough to tickle the tip of Laura's finger
with the tip of it, looking up at Laura at the same time.
     
     "Your lip is curved but not round," Laura whispered.
     
     "I'm really round down here," Dawn whispered back,
taking Laura's hand and drawing it down to her hip.
     
     Laura ran her palm over it, and Dawn shifted her
position on the sofa, rolling halfway over to make her ass
more available.  She drew Laura's hand over onto one round,
beautifully firm moon, it's perfection quite obvious through
the loose fabric of her pants.  Laura squeezed it gently.
Oh god! she thought.  This girl, under these baggy pants,
has an ass like Chanitra's and Jane's.  Oh god.
     
     "I see what you mean," she murmured, her lips closer
and closer to Dawn's.
     
     "And here too," Dawn breathed, her eyelids growing
heavy now.
     
     She took Laura's hand and slipped it under the hem of
her sweatshirt, bringing it up to her bra, placing Laura's
palm directly onto one of her breasts, though it was still
inside the cup.
     
     "Very round," Laura whispered, almost inaudibly,
bringing her mouth closer to Dawn's, so close that they
could feel each other's warm breath on their lips.
     
     The point where their lips actually met was
imperceptible, but Laura slid her tongue effortlessly
between Dawn's open teeth, her hand still gently, but
insistently, squeezing the full globe of Dawn's breast
through the bra cup.  Dawn kissed her back, but neither one
rushed the other with unseemly haste.  Instead, they kissed
as if it were planned long ago for them to arrive at this
moment, and they would take it calmly and deliberately,
enjoying each micro-instant of their mouths blending, and
searching, and exploring.
     
     In the middle of the kiss, Dawn pulled back only an
inch, pulling their lips apart, staring into Laura's eyes at
close range.
     
     "You can feel how round it is better if I take it off.
You know, the bra."
     
     "Would you?" Laura asked dreamily, all of a sudden
wildly in love.
     
     "Sure."
     
     Laura extricated her hand, and Dawn pulled the
sweatshirt up over her head in one fluid motion.  Her bra
was a simple white one, not fancy, just utilitarian, but the
white cloth against her coal black skin was very alluring.
Her breasts were larger than Laura's but not huge, perfectly
proportioned to the rest of her body.  She was a healthy,
strapping girl, not a voluptuous full-figured one like Karen
or Shavon, but beautifully proportioned from a classical
perspective, with a narrow waist, marvelously straight
clavicles, and a smooth, taut midriff.
     
     In short, she was breathtaking, and Laura could barely
control her desire.  Again the charming little amused pinch
at the corners of her sensual mouth lit up Dawn's face as
she watched Laura's eyes kissing her body.  Her own eyes
sparkled with sexy mischief.
     
     "Guess you like it so far," she said softly.
     
     Laura gave her back the same half-smile.  Her eyes came
to rest in the delicious cleavage between Dawn's very dark
breasts.
     
     "I want to kiss you right there," she whispered.
     
     "I ain't stopping you."
     
     Dawn's eyes twinkled.  Laura bent her head forward,
inhaling the fresh fragrance of Dawn's half-naked body as
her nose moved closer to the girl's flesh, letting her lips
come to rest in the valley between Dawn's breasts.  They
were bigger than she had thought, not enormous but large,
full, round globes, as firm as any she had ever seen, and
just as black as the rest of Dawn.  They were also warm and
springy, and Laura kissed the bottom of the valley, then the
bulging side of each breast where the bra dipped enough to
reveal it.
     
     "Oooohhh, Laura . . . you know what you're doing
there," Dawn sighed softly.  "That feels good."
     
     "May I take it off?"
     
     "Hell with that," Dawn grinned.  She pulled the straps
off her shoulders and peeled both bra cups down abruptly,
exposing both of her perfect breasts.  "Just go on and go
for it."
     
     Laura grinned up at her, filling her hands with the
warm, resilient, black globes, running her thumbs over
Dawn's even blacker nipples, not puffies, but big, shiny
areolas and thick, nubby centers.  God, if she had real
puffies, I'd die of lust for sure, Laura thought, already
nearly dying of it anyway, now pinching Dawn's nipples more
aggressively, watching her face, watching a new intensity of
sexual heat seem to spread over it and flicker in the girl's
sparkling, dark eyes.
     
     "They're  so beautiful," Laura murmured.  "I want to
kiss them.  May I kiss them?"
     
     Dawn grinned.  "I'm glad you keep asking."  She pulled
Laura's face up to hers with both hands.  ""Look, I would
really like to go on with this, you know?  But I can't do it
here.  Robert lives here too.  I just  feel awful doing
something like that when he lives here too.  Know what I
mean?"
     
     Laura nodded.  "I understand completely," she said,
feeling her raging blood subside a little.  "What about . .
. somewhere else?  My place?"
     
     "You live far?"
     
     Laura giggled.  "Does it matter?"
     
     Dawn grinned back.  "I'm kind of hot from this.  I
don't want to drive to San Jose or something."
     
     "Russian Hill.  Ten minutes."
     
     "You'll have to take me and bring me back.  I don't
have a car."
     
     "It will be my pleasure."
     
     Dawn pulled up her bra cups again very quickly and
rearranged the straps on her black, gleaming shoulders.  She
pulled her sweatshirt back on.
     
     "Let's go.  Hope you can drive fast," she smiled
devilishly at Laura.  "I didn't realize it would be this
much fun."
     
     "I hate to leave all that lovely beans and rice on the
stove.  I was looking forward to eating it."
     
     "I don't think that's all you were looking forward to
eating," Dawn cracked, giving Laura a salacious, saucy
glance.
     
     Laura, as usual, blushed beet red.
     
     "There you go blushing!  I get such a kick out of you
blushing.  Hold on while I pack up the food.  I got some
Tupperware around here somewhere."
     
     
     
        
     
     
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
++
     
The Laura story chapters are now available, in both text and
html
formats, on the ASS text archive site at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/laura/www.
Text files may also be downloaded via FTP at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/.
The chapters are now also available in html format at
http://www.thevalkyrie.com/stories/miranda/index.htm.
     
c  Copyright Miranda Mars, 1999-2000.  It is unlawful to
reprint or
otherwise distribute this material without the written
consent of the
author.
<1st attachment end>


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