The Laura Effect

I was captivated by the uplifted perfection of Laura's twin globes which were worthy or being preserved in marble. They were tight, unblemished, and called out to the hand. As I continued to stare I saw that Miranda was now using just the very tip of her tongue to work on Laura's clitoris leaving the livid gash of her sex clearly on display.

It shone with an inviting ooze and, as if reaching into my mind, Laura commandingly whispered.

"Lick me."

She arched her back just a little more, making her mound even more prominent and I was drawn as a bee to an orchid.

I moved to lie alongside Miranda and, without another thought, I began to lick at the luscious opening.

"Oh my sweet little bitches…"

Laura was a mistress of self-control. Even with both of us paying homage she still held herself in check and issued instructions.

"Kiss each other."

Miranda welcomed the relief. The strain of keeping her outstretched tongue in place was telling and she welcomed the delicate massage as our mouths closed together bound by the shared taste of Laura.

It was a short respite. Laura soon had us both back at work as she continued to luxuriate in the attention until, finally, she stretched just a little. As a result Miranda was encouraged to push her tongue deeper but it meant that I was displaced.

For a second or two I did nothing but look on but then, furtively, I raised my eyes just a little. Something in my upbringing filled me with guilt as, from scant inches away, I surveyed her forbidden valley with warped fascination.

The soft curves of her taut flesh drew my eyes to the very centre with the inexorable pull of a whirlpool. It seemed a living thing this pink rosette with its shaded heart. Almost imperceptibly it was opening and closing, beating to the rhythm of excitement created by Miranda's tongue.

I continued to stare and then became aware that Laura looking at me. Her face was a little redder and Miranda was obviously getting to her but she gave me that same knowing smile.

"Do it…"

There was no doubting her meaning and I suddenly found it had to breathe. It was wrong in so many ways, and only days before I would have found the mere thought repugnant, but I neither moved nor protested.

I felt a little faint, or did I?, and my head fell slowly forward.

At first I remained still, surprised by the heat radiating from her skin, and then, perhaps influenced by Miranda's continued labours, I put out my tongue. I licked softly at her perineum, allowing the possibility of moving back to her sex, but now that I had taken the first step I could not turn back.

I closed my eyes and trailed slowly upwards, my tongue enlivened by the tang of salt and something altogether more earthy. She was stretched so taut that the valley walls had all but disappeared but I needed no guidance.

I slowed even more, fearful of the final step, but then I felt it under my touch. It was more solid than I thought and I was frightened, for a moment, of its hidden strength but it seemed perfectly fitted for the tip of my tongue.

I played there a little, feeling the tiny contractions, and tried to resist the compulsion to test the boundaries of its resilience. I was winning the fight until, from nowhere, I felt Miranda's hand on my sex.

She still had her tongue buried deep, driving Laura on, but now her fingers slipped inside me and her thumb unerringly settled on my clitoris.

I gasped and automatically pressed my own tongue forward only to meet a solid resistance but then, degree by slow degree, it began to yield. I was no longer pushing but, rather, was being irresistibly being sucked in.

The tightness was painful but, at the same time, curiously comforting and as I got used to it I was intrigued to feel Miranda's tongue probing across the divide. It was only natural then to forge the final link and I reached out blindly between her legs. Her sex was hot, wet, and completely open to me but my position did not allow for me to penetrate. Instead, I stroked the area around her clitoris as best I could and it proved to be enough.

It was as if we were all now plugged in to a single energy source and as we approached orgasm we seemed to feed one another, supercharging an already overwhelming passion.

My scream, as I reached the zenith, was gagged by my buried tongue but even before it was done my heart was stopped by a fresh outburst.

"What the fuck is going on!"

Chapter 6

Miranda and I fell to the floor together leaving Laura sprawled on the bed. Miranda, aware now of the two guards in the room, clung to me for protection whilst I tried to grab at the bedcover.

In the next few seconds I saw not only my career in ruins but Miranda's as well.

The guards stood with a look of astonishment on their faces, stunned to silence, and it was Laura who reacted first.

"Well the meeting was supposed to be convened in a spirit or reconciliation…"

Her words were a jibe aimed at me. I had used the same phrasing when I first mooted the idea to her.

She sat sublimely naked on the bed and the guards simply gaped. Her hair was dishevelled and her skin was tinted by a post orgasmic blush but, in even in this wild state, her natural beauty shone through and she knew the power of it all too well.

Finally, one of the guards pulled herself together.

"If you ladies would like to get yourselves dressed…I will have to submit a formal report."

Laura got up from the bed unhurriedly but she made no move to retrieve her clothing. She approached the guards, who instinctively took a step back, before appreciating that they had nothing to fear from a naked woman.

She walked right up to the older of the two, a West Indian woman who must have been in her early thirties, and whispered in her ear. As Laura spoke the woman's eyes widened just a fraction. When she had finished the woman looked down at Miranda and I before turning to her colleague.

"Just give us a minute."

She took her partner by the arm and led her outside the room where there was an excited exchange but I could not make out what was being said. In their absence I wanted to get myself dressed but Miranda refused to leave hold of me.

They came back and looked down at us before turning to Laura.

"It's a deal."

I was now more alarmed than ever.

"Laura, what's going on?"

She smiled as she came and knelt beside us and then she spoke soto voce.

"Look. It's simple. It makes damn all difference to me, I'm going back inside anyway, but it seems a pity for you both to throw your careers away. Now, our friends here don't want to make waves, they can see for themselves how talented you both are."

The double entendre was not lost on me. I realized, with sudden horror, exactly what she was suggesting.

"Laura, get serious, this ends now!"

"Don't be so hasty. Don't you think that you ought to consult with Ms. Coombes first?"

I turned to Miranda but it was obvious that, for her too, the penny had dropped.

"Miranda, we get up right now, we get dressed and we walk out of here. I'll clean this mess up I promise you."

Her face was a mask of anxiety and she clutched my arm even more tightly.

"I can't go back. I've worked too hard to give it all up."

For a second or two I could not think what to say. Her eyes were imploring me.

"You're prepared to do this?"

She had no hesitation as she replied.

"We have to."

The situation was as outrageous as it was sordid but it was the one chance for me too to rescue my career. I looked up at Laura and she almost smirked.

"Ladies, I think you've reached a very sensible decision."

The guards looked taken aback but I guess that they could hardly believe their good fortune. Laura, still unashamedly naked, ushered them towards the bay window.

"I think you'll find the chairs comfortable."

In the bay an occasional table was flanked by two arm chairs and the guards looked at them uncertainly before the older of the two took charge.

"Let's do this."

Notwithstanding, there was a definite awkwardness as they both stripped off their underwear before sitting down with their skirts raised.

Miranda, despite her positive assertion, was slow to get up and she stood slightly behind me leaving me the immediate focus of the two women's attention. I suppose that it was to make it easier on Miranda that I moved towards the older woman. She was slightly heavy set and she was wearing a wedding band.

Her colleague, a trim blonde, looked to be somewhere in her mid twenties and, in any other company would have turned heads, but she paled in comparison with Laura and Miranda.

I was desperate to get it over with and I knelt quickly between the woman's opened legs aware, out of the corner of my eye, of Miranda doing the same.

Her clothes had flattered to deceive. I could see, now, that her thighs were thicker than they had first appeared and presented an imposing prospect. As I looked, I was aware of just how much my tongue ached from my previous exertions but it had to be done.

"I'm guessing that this is your first taste of black pussy."

I did not need this. Why did she have to gloat?

She shifted forward a little allowing her skirt to ride up altogether and I could tell that she was extremely aroused. Only later did I wonder how much they may have seen or heard before they interrupted us.

"My man would need a lot of weed before he even think about doing this for me."

Now that she was relaxed her accent shifted towards a pronounced Caribbean patois.

"Momma's waiting honey…"

Her sex was daunting. A rounded mound, with an uneven growth of tight curled black hair, was home to a pair of long, loose, labia suggestive of maturity. As I drew nearer I could see that the dark curtains were parted slightly to contrast with a bright pink interior.

I closed my eyes and braced myself to make a direct assault.but as my tongue made contact I was surprised by the sharp initial tang.

"How's that taste honey? Sweeter than your white girls I'm bettin."

The truth was that I found it unedifying but I stuck to my task and pushed through her labia which melded to my tongue. The taste here was fresher, more in keeping with my recent experience which made things more palatable.

"Oh yeah, that's one cute tongue…"

For a minute or two I did little more than leave my tongue in place but the novelty of the situation was, for her, sufficiently arousing.

"Go deep babe…"

I did as she asked, bracing my tongue and pressing further home. She did not have the tone of Laura or Miranda but the yielding softness was, in its own way, inviting. She was very wet and the slurp of moisture was soon audible.

"Yeah, that's nice, suck it out of me…"

I closed my mouth about her and pursed my cheeks but it was almost unnecessary. She was flowing freely and a distant expletive suggested that Miranda was also working her magic.

"This girl just loves those juices…"

She now linked her fingers behind my head, making me uncomfortable but I knew that she could not take much more.

"Now babe, find the spot…"

Her voice was unsteady and her body was beginning to tense. I edged upwards but her clitoris was impossible to miss. It felt huge beneath my tongue, a smooth, prominent mushroom that felt as if it had burst free from its tight fleshy collar. I licked in tight gentle circles but she was in no mood for refinement.

"Harder!"

I flattened my tongue and licked broadly as her body bowed up from the seat.

"Oh fuck!"

She started to come spattering my face and neck with gouts of warm moisture before collapsing limply, totally spent.

"Oh, you are really something….clean me up babe."

I almost refused but a series of high pitched wails heralded her companion's orgasm and I knew the ordeal was almost over. I licked her sex clear of juices trying not to raise her level of excitement but she had had enough.

I sat back on my haunches, grateful just for some fresh air, and saw that Miranda was similarly posed. The atmosphere was severely strained and it took me a moment to realize what was wrong.

"Where the hell is Laura!"

Epilogue

She had played us all for fools.

A panicked investigation elicited the fact that she had simply walked out of the building headed god knows where.

And so we concocted a story.

We claimed that Miranda was taken unwell during the course of the meeting and that, whilst we tended to her, Laura had slipped away. We even called a doctor so that the fiction could be embellished but, as a lie, it was tissue thin.

Miranda came out of it reasonably unsullied and the two guards got away with a severe reprimand. As for me, a scapegoat had to be found and I was invited to fall on my sword. There was no doubting my culpability but I felt harshly treated. I resigned on the understanding that my references would not be compromised.

It was going to take some weeks to process my application for an Australian entry permit and, in the meanwhile, I signed with an agency to do some locum work. The confirmation of my pending emigration was enough to put the final nail in the coffin of my relationship with John.

I thought often of Laura, wondering where she was. Of one thing I was sure, she was never going to be destitute. Wherever she had wound up I had no doubt that she had turned her ability to manipulate to her best advantage.

She had wrecked havoc in my life, turning it upside down, but she still had my grudging admiration.

After the initial brouhaha had cooled down I met up with Miranda again or, more to the point, she met up with me. She turned up unannounced on my doorstep one evening and there was little need for words.

The fact that I was going away only seemed to add fuel to our relationship with both of us knowing that we could enjoy ourselves for a few weeks without the hindrance of commitment.

We reassumed our roles of dominant and submissive and we explored the boundaries. The problem was that the increasing degree of strictness that I employed was matched only by the growing tenderness I felt for her. I knew, for certain, that if I allowed myself, I would fall deeply in love with her.

It was towards the end that I had her tied to the corners of my bed once more. We had found a wedding supplier and had splashed out on some white silk ropes with which she was now restrained. I was working from home and I had left her there for some hours. Every now and again I would check on her but at the same time I used a vibrator to bring her to the edge of orgasm.

By the eighth time she was screaming for relief but she knew that she would have to spend a very long time satisfying me first before I decided whether or not she would be allowed to come.

By the early evening I could no longer ignore my own growing need and I groaned as I looked forward to riding her beautiful face. I took a shower and donned a robe but I was interrupted by a ring at the door.

I was not expecting anyone and I looked through the spy hole to see a young, dark haired, woman that I did not recognize. I challenged her and she said something but her northern accent was so broad I did not understand. In the end she simply held up a courier package.

I opened the door to her and my immediate thought was that she was rather good looking to be a courier. She needed a signature but her own pen was out of ink and so I went to the kitchen to find one. When I returned to the hall there were two of them just inside the door.

The second woman was a blonde and an alarm sounded somewhere in my head.

"I don't recall inviting you in."

The blonde smiled, stepped back into the vestibule, and beckoned to someone out of my sight; then in an accent as broad as her companions she addressed herself to me.

"There's someone here who wants to see you…I hope you haven't eaten…"