Chapter 195

     Jane was waiting for the elevator when Laura and April
got to the lobby, on the way to taking April home.  She
leaned against the opposite wall, smirking, appraising them
salaciously.  Laura's heart sank, and her ire rose up, both
in the same instant.

    Jane looked at April, up and down, evaluating her, as
Laura tried to brush past without speaking.  "Hold on,
Laura," she said.  "Ain't you gonna introduce us?  Isn't
this the one who was screaming like she was dying of
pleasure up there in your apartment a few minutes ago?"

     "Jane-" Laura warned.

       April looked at Laura inquisitively.  "She your
neighbor?"

     "One of them," Laura said, grimly.

     She remembered how Jane had interrupted her and Charise
not long ago, how jealous Jane had been, and also how they
had nearly burned the place down with hot fucking after
Laura had returned from taking Charise home.  Was history
about to repeat itself?

     Jane leaned close to April, as bold and nasty as ever.
"She fucks me too," she said in an exaggerated whisper.  "In
fact, I scream like that when she fucks me in the ass.  Is
that what she did to you?"

     "Jane!" Laura snapped.

     "Mmmm, you got a big one, too," Jane said, appraising
April's ass.  "Bet she had a cool time munching on that one.
Did she stick her finger in it?  Laura likes black ass.
Don't you, Laura."

     Laura was about to die of mortification.  And April was
both shocked and acutely embarrassed.  Both of them now
tried to brush past Jane, but Jane actually held out her
arms to stop them.

     Her eyes suddenly glowered, turning her lovely face
into a sharp mask of ugly, accusatory spite.  "Let me tell
you two something.  This is a family building.  We families
want a wholesome atmosphere.  We don't want no lesbian hoes
fucking and screaming and interrupting everybody's dinner
with their cheap little sex acts, dig?  You girls hear me?
You understand?"

     Laura grabbed April's hand and roughly pushed her way
past one of Jane's extended arms.  "Jane, this is the last
straw-!" she said under her breath, pulling April hard and
fast to get her by the half-crazy teenager before Jane did
something worse.

     She half-thought that Jane was going to pounce on them
from the rear, so crazed was Jane by her usual jealousies
and hell-I'll-do-anything nature.  But Jane just stood and
watched them leave, almost steaming from the ears with
hatred and pain.  God, what did I ever do to make that girl
so jealous? Laura wondered.  In the back of her mind, she
recalled Vanessa, and Sholandra, but neither had ever been
as shockingly bold as Jane.

     In the car, April was silent and glum.  She stared out
the window without speaking.

     "She's a little liar," Laura said lamely, regretting it
the moment she said it.  April wasn't stupid.

     "Seems to me like you the one who's lying," April said
calmly.  "She was jealous.  I would be too, up there
listening to you doing it with someone else."

      "April, you don't know how much you mean to me."
                              
     "How much did she mean to you?"

     Ouch!  Laura could hardly bear moments as painful as
this.  She loved them both and didn't want to give up either
one.

    After a few minutes, April added, "She's pretty good-
looking, too.  Great body.  And young."

      "I know," Laura said meekly.  "It was a mistake."
                              
     "Don't sound like she thinks so."

     April was unforgiving.  At her apartment in Oakland,
she hopped out of Laura's car with barely a word and waved
perfunctorily.  Laura was hurt to the quick.  After what we
just shared? she thought.  Couldn't you at least smile, or
say you had a good time?

     But Laura was a big girl.  I won't cry over it, she
thought.  If I see Jane, I'll kill her.  But she thought
differently about marching up to Kendra's and Jane's
apartment, as she had done the last time.  That had resulted
in a firestorm of fucking with Jane that still made her
tingle when she recalled it.  She couldn't risk that again.

    She had to concentrate on work anyway.  She spent the
next two days in Burlingame, working with Deshona Reed.  It
was both a stimulating and uncomfortable time, for she kept
recalling what April had said, that Deshona Reed looked at
her, Laura, when Laura was not paying attention, as if she
were `interested'.  What did that mean?

     All Laura could see was her brusque, cold, aloof
exterior, her hard eyes, her unsmiling mouth.  On top of
that, she was physically gorgeous, a petite woman with small
bones and yet a very curvaceous figure under her severe
business suits.  She was also very successful, a hard
worker, and impressively bright.  Laura did not dare to make
any mistakes in her presence.

     It wore on her.  Deshona Reed was sexually attractive,
but her demeanor discouraged anything but the most curt
formality.  Even after weeks of working together, Laura
could not get her to warm up.  And then, shockingly enough,
after their two days were finished, Deshona invited Laura to
her house for dinner.

     "We should just go out somewhere . . . but I'm so
tired, I'd rather just go home and whip up an omlette or
something," she said wearily.  They were both tired.  "Care
to join me?"

     Laura tried not to act surprised.  "I . . . guess I
could.  For an hour or so."

     Deshona smiled ambiguously.  She gave Laura careful
directions to her house, which was in the hills among the
trees, a beautiful, large, and expensive home.

     "This looks like almost too much for one person," Laura
commented, looking around at the expensive furniture,
wondering who lived there with her.

     Deshona was very quick, and she saw Laura looking for
evidence of another person.  "My husband and I are divorced.
I got the house."

    "I'm sorry to hear that.  About the divorce, I mean,"
Laura mumbled awkwardly.

     Deshona smiled in a self-mocking way.  "He left me for
a blonde."

     Now what was this supposed to mean? Laura wondered.
Does it mean that you hate me, or hate all white women?  If
so, then why did you invite me here?  At least it explains
your personality.

    But then she thought, This is a woman in great pain.
Maybe she doesn't really know how else to reach out.  And
all I can think about is what it would be like to break
through that ice, to make her moan.  She's so beautiful.

     Meanwhile, Laura didn't know how to respond.  "I . . .
I'm sorry to hear that."

    "Oh, it's okay," Deshona smiled.  "I don't mean to be
so dramatic.  It was last year.  I'm thinking of getting a
dog.  What do you think?  Wouldn't that make it less lonely
around here?"

     "Someone as gorgeous as you shouldn't be lonely," Laura
said.

     "You're the gorgeous one.  Did anyone ever tell you
that you look like the Victoria's Secret model?"

      Laura smiled self-effacingly.  "Yes, a few times.
Thank you."

     Deshona again raised that self-mocking eyebrow.  "Good
thing you aren't a blonde."  Then she smiled to let Laura
know it was a joke.

     "Good thing," Laura laughed uncomfortably.

     Now they loosened up.  Deshona dropped the frigid
exterior and actually began to smile.  She shed her suit
jacket and told Laura to make herself comfortable too.
Under her jacket Deshona was wearing an
expensive pearlcolored silk blouse that
contrasted beautifully with her smooth, dark
skin.  She was not jet black, like Charise or
Cecilia, but her skin was still dark, more like
Randi's and Karen's.

     "This blouse cost me seventy-five big ones,
and I'm not splattering it with grease in the
kitchen," she joked.  "I wasn't going to change
and make you uncomfortable, but I am going to
take it off."

  This sounded so suggestive that Laura almost
                    blushed,
though she knew Deshona meant nothing risque.
She decided to help with dinner while Deshona
was changing and was in the midst of making a
salad when she returned.  Deshona poured each of
them a glass of wine, and they cooked dinner
together.  Somehow, it made them feel more
intimate and friendly than ever.  Afterward,
they sat in Deshona's spectacularly decorated
living room, decorously across from one another
on facing small white sofas.

     Laura felt as if she were in a movie.  She
knew nothing sexual was going to happen.  She
had risked too much already lately, with April,
and with Stevie Archer.  She was content simply
to look at Deshona Reed, who had changed into
jeans and a loose sweatshirt, which occasionally
stretched and shifted as her fairly large and
unfettered breasts swayed underneath it.

     Laura tried not to look, but at one brief
instant Deshona saw her looking.  She had half-
stood, reaching to put her wine goblet on the
glass coffee table between them. She looked down
too, where Laura was looking, and saw her
breasts swaying under her sweatshirt.  She
smiled broadly, very relaxed now after dinner
and two glasses of wine.

"Oops.  Maybe I should've left my bra on.  I'm a-
swingin' and a-swayin'.  Sorry."

   "Don't apologize.  I was just admiring the
                     view."
                        
     Deshona shot her a brief, hard glance, but
then relaxed again.  "So . . . tell me about
yourself.  A woman who looks like Stephanie Seymour
must have a lot of adventures."

     "Oh . . ." Laura blushed.  "Not many."

     "I can't believe that.  Even though you're
not a blonde," her eyes twinkled mischievously,
"the fellas must still be beating down your
door."

     Laura smiled politely, not knowing what to
say.  Then she heard the oddest words coming out
of her mouth.  "I've had a steady boyfriend for
about two years.  His name is Rob."

     Now she did blush, and swallow nervously.
Why had she said that?

     "Well, you just hang onto him tight, that's
my advice. A good man is hard to find.  And I
oughta know."

     She suddenly felt so chummy that she came
around the glass coffee table and sat down next
to Laura.  Uh oh, Laura thought.  She smells
good.  And up close she's even more lovely.  And
she's not wearing a bra under that sweatshirt.

  Both of them were slightly tipsy, not really
                     drunk,
just relaxed.  Deshona's dark black eyes shone.
All the frost of the past was gone.  She was
Laura's dear friend now.

  They talked for another hour about men, about
                      work,
about whether Deshona should get a dog, about
what she should name it if she did, whether she
should get a big dog or a little dog, or maybe
two dogs.  Laura grew to like her very much, now
that her protective layer of ice had melted.

     She also enjoyed just looking at this
beautiful woman, at the soft, smooth curve of
her throat, at her sensual mouth, at the cloud
of frizz-curled hair that framed her head,
something that would look bad on a larger woman
but that was perfect for her petite size.  She
tried not to look down at the breasts
occasionally bouncing and swaying under
Deshona's sweatshirt.

     Deshona lay back in the sofa cushions next
to Laura, with her face uptilted, her profile
enchanting.  She was very desirable.  Laura
looked at her longingly.  She lay her head back
against the cushion too, her face turned
sideways, looking.  After a minute, Deshona
turned her own face to Laura's.

   Her eyes made it clear she knew this was a
                    dangerous
moment, and Laura felt it too.  Without
speaking, Laura pushed her own face closer until
her lips brushed Deshona's. Their warm breath
intermingled.  Deshona did not pull back. Her
eyes, very close, peered into Laura's.

     Fearing to stop now, Laura began to kiss
her, gently, not insisting on anything.
Deshona's eyes never closed.
But finally, she did pull her head back a few
inches.

"You know," she said softly, "I think I'm going
to pass on this.  Don't take it personally,
Laura.  I like you a lot.  But I've never done
this, and I don't think I'm going to start now.
I haven't been laid in about a year and a half
. . . but I think I'll hold out for a guy.  No
offense?"

     Laura shook her head sadly.  "None taken."
She caressed Deshona's impossibly smooth cheek
with the backs of her fingers.  "You are very
lovely."
     "Thank you.  That stuff about your

boyfriend was a lie, wasn't it."

     "Only partly," Laura smiled.  "I see him

     now and then." "It's probably best if you

     don't tell me any more."

     "I know."

   "Under the circumstances, maybe you should
                    leave.  I
hope this won't spoil our working relationship."

   "I'm sure it won't."  Laura gave her a wry
                     smile.
"Just keep the bra on next time."

     Deshona laughed.  She pointed a friendly
finger at Laura.  "You got it.  Drive carefully,
okay?  You need a cup of coffee?"

     Laura shook her head.

     "I haven't been . . . kissed for over a
year and a half either," Deshona said.  "By a
man or a woman.  Don't want anything to happen
to you."

     "It won't."

     Laura did cry a little, though, on the
drive back to San Francisco.  Why am I crying?
she wondered.  Must be the wine.  On the other
hand, she felt an ache.  Deshona Reed was
lovely, and Laura wanted her, but Deshona had
been very mature about it.  She too had been
tempted but turned away from temptation, as
Laura was never able to do.

     Laura remembered April-not their
uncomfortable parting yesterday, but the first
time, when April had called her cellular phone
number and asked her to come back.  Then they
had made love heatedly.  But Deshona Reed did
not call Laura's mobile phone.  It was silent
all the way.

     At home, she glumly contemplated the video
tape that Rhonda had left in her office.  She
had taken it home, eager to view it but having
no chance until now.  She knew it would make her
feel better and could scarcely wait to get it
into the VCR.

     She undressed hurriedly and threw on a
bathrobe. Laura's bedroom was for fucking and
sleeping only, and so her TV was in her living
room.  She pulled the drapes shut, then started
the VCR.

     Even though she knew in detail the contents
of the tape, it was a very unusual experience to
watch it.  For one thing, the video camera was
three or four feet away from the two naked
bodies intermingling on the bed.  My bed, she
thought.  She had never seen either herself or
her lover from such a point of view.  For
another, she tried not to see them from Rhonda's
point of view, but it was very hard not to.

  And yet Stevie had such a perfectly gorgeous
                      naked
body that it was impossible not to become
aroused all over again.  Laura only recalled as
she watched that they had already fucked once
before Stevie had retrieved the video camera
from her luggage.  She watched herself closely,
as if studying her technique as she swarmed all
over Stevie's beautiful body, and Stevie swarmed
all over hers.

     As she watched, her body quickly became
overheated.
She had been aroused earlier, from kissing
Deshona Reed, and now when Stevie had an orgasm
on the video tape for the first time, it had an
electrical effect on Laura.  Her bathrobe had
slipped open, due to her squirming on the sofa,
and her hand slid down between her thighs very
easily, finding her soupy wet quim, fully
blossomed and aching.

     She was unconsciously swirling her hard,
tingling clit under two fingers as she watched,
and she realized that she was very close to an
orgasm herself.  And yet she knew that even
better things were to come.  She had taped
Stevie having one of her over-the-top g-spot
episodes, and even at least a partial sequence-
before she completely lost control-of Stevie
eating her, Laura's, pussy until she began to
come.

     Carefully, she withdrew her hand,
determined to climax only after she had seen the
whole tape.  But this proved to be difficult.
First came the section where Laura had lovingly
photographed every smooth, sinuous inch of
Stevie's perfect naked body.  Even though she
had fucked
the beautiful girl repeatedly on two different
occasions, Laura could not suppress her physical
excitement as seeing every part of Stevie's
delicious body again.  And Stevie, camera hog
that she was, had taken advantage of this moment
to strike every devastating sexual pose she
could think of, her mouth in a fuck-me moue as
she cupped her small breasts, or caressed her
wet, puckering slit, showing off the glistening
pink insides.
 Now Stevie began to moan and writhe.  Laura was
tongue-caressing her clit and fingering her
pussy at the same time, and Stevie was
intoxicatingly beautiful, desirable, pumping her
slim hips, grabbing her small breasts, twisting
her swelling, gleaming black nipples.

     This was the section where Laura had
persuaded herself that she could fuck Stevie
with one hand while holding the video camera
with the other.  It went on much longer than she
had remembered, and by the time Stevie had
nearly reached her peak, Laura herself was
almost a basket case.  Watching Stevie's naked
body undulate, seeing the palpitations in her
sleek stomach as she panted and whimpered,
watching her marvelous small breasts jiggle,
hearing her soft, keening moans, all of it had
Laura so wet that her juices were smearing her
thighs as well as her fingers, and her own
breath was short, her pussy throbbing wildly.
     Scrutinizing every second with hot,
fascinated attention, Laura saw the girl flinch,
then freeze for a split second.  She knew this
was the instant just before Stevie had exploded
in wild strings of orgasms.  Hastily, she
reached for the remote and stopped the tape.
She rewound it and started it again about a
minute before the critical moment.
     "Oh god, I can watch her come over and over
again," she said out loud, marveling at her
opportunity.  "Even in slow motion, if I want
to."
     Now she was nearly as close herself to a
climax as Stevie was on the tape.  She finally
slipped out of the loose bathrobe completely and
lay back on the sofa, stroking her naked body
and watching every exquisite detail of Stevie's
approach to a fierce ecstacy she, Laura, had
actually brought about.  The tape drew closer
and closer to the telltale flinch.
     Then it happened.  Stevie's lean, long,
lovely naked body shuddered, and she began to
moan loudly and come in rolling, undulating
waves, her beautiful face torn by a sublime
grimace of total rapture.
     "Unh!  Unh!" Laura gasped softly, her
fingers frantically swirling over her own
throbbing clit. "Aunngghhh!  Oh shit!
Aunngghhh!"
     She came herself in a sharp convulsion, her
body churning and bucking out of control.  At
the same moment, her phone beside the sofa began
to ring, a piercing, cutting ring that mingled
with her tight, helpless cries.  She was still
coming in aftershocks, still watching Stevie
groan through the spasms of her final orgasm,
when the answering machine clicked on.
  "Laura?  Laura, are you there?  It's Deshona
                      Reed.
Just calling to see you made it home okay.  You
must've stopped off.  I'll call you back in half
an hour."

     Slack and panting from a quick, self-
induced orgasm, Laura nevertheless had the
presence of mind to reach for the remote control
and quickly switch off the VCR.  She smiled
dreamily.  Deshona called me.  She wanted to
make sure I'm safe.

     She rewound the answering machine tape and
played it again.  Still glassy-eyed and
throbbing, she idly rubbed her pussy gently as
she listened again to Deshona Reed's voice. I
wish we were rubbing each other's, she thought
dreamily.

     Then she realized that she had about thirty
minutes until Deshona called again.  And there
was still a part of the video tape she hadn't
seen.  This was the part in which Stevie licked
Laura's pussy while Laura video taped it, and as
she watched it, Laura was unable to resist the
temptation to give herself another orgasm.  In
about five or six minutes, she was coming again,
this time a long, hot, throbbing climax that
seemed to take forever.

     She only half-realized that the video
camera had fallen out of her hands onto the
bouncing mattress, recording only a jumbled blur
of dark and white skin, as well as Laura's
helpless cries of pleasure.  Then came the
giggles as she and Stevie retrieved the video
camera, which was still purring along.

     "At least we got to hear you coming, girl,"
Stevie was heard to say as Laura awkwardly
pointed the camera again at her, dropping it, as
if she were leering, to Stevie's peerless small
breasts once again.  "I'll bet your neighbors
heard it too," she said, making a face at the
camera as she pulled the lens up abruptly.  "You
are loud, girl, loud."

     Then they both dissolved in giggles one
more time.  It had been a sweet, intimate
moment, and Laura enjoyed reliving it again.
Then she suddenly grew more grim as she realized
what it must have felt like for Rhonda to view
it. That was all it took for her to feel a
burning in the pit of her stomach.  Imagine me
watching it, she thought.  What if Rhonda was
screwing Inky, for example?

 She couldn't dwell on it and shut off the tape.
                       She
also wondered how Rhonda had got her hands on
it.  Had Stevie been so careless?  Or so cruel?
What was the status of their relationship now?

     She was still thinking these things over
when the phone rang again.  She tried not to
snatch it up, not to seem too eager.

     "Hello?"

 "Laura.  I called earlier.  I just wanted to be
                      sure
you were safe."

     Laura was overcome with tenderness for this
woman, so much so that she could barely speak.
"I stopped for a quart of milk," she fibbed.  "I
got your message and wanted to call you back,
but I don't have your home number."

 "It's unlisted," Deshona said.  "But I'll give
                      it to
you."

     Laura's heart fluttered as she wrote it
down.  She suddenly realized that she was stark
naked, lying slack and spent across the sofa,
having just masturbated twice.  What would
Deshona think if she could see me like this?
she wondered wryly.  But, as if being watched,
she sat up and pulled her robe over her thighs.

  "I . . . had a good time," she said softly.
                     "Nice
dinner.  Nice company."

     Deshona did not respond immediately.
"Nice kiss," she finally said, very faintly.
"Thanks for understanding."

     "You're welcome.  Thanks for calling.
I've never had anyone actually call to see if I
made it home all right before."

   "First time for everything," Deshona said
                    softly.
                       
     "Yes . . . there is," Laura said
pointedly, regretting it afterward.

     That was too bold of me, she thought.  But

Deshona did not react.  They would meet again

the following week for another work session.

Laura could hardly wait.