In The Beginning Laura And Sandra

I went to my studio and sat at the computer. It was not possible to work under these circumstances. I sat there, staring at the screen saver. After several minutes, I listlessly clicked on Mozilla Firefox, then typed "butterfly tattoo Laura" in the Google search box. Surprisingly, I got an immediate link to site named "Love Unbound." Clicking the link, I was taken to a tastefully designed lesbian erotica site whose webpage had a montage of beautiful women in various forms of bondage and sexual torture. I assumed the irony was intentional. I paid the $29.95 fee, entered my email address and my standard password, jdc101069.

I was disappointed to find that the site had only one in a series of "Laura Stories," written by one Marcie van Lustbadder. It was entitled "In the Beginning," and was a piece of semi-pro lesbian pornography. The opening sections contained a tedious account of Laura's sexual awakening: She learns to masturbate at a slumber party, perfects the art through nightly practice and innovation, and subsequently introduces Sandra, a school friend, to the practice on a lazy summer afternoon when the house was empty and her parents at the mall. Lounging on Sandra's bed, their talk had turned to sex and the mysteries of the orgasm. Naturally, Sandra wanted to know how to have one, and Laura offers to instruct. It proves to be hard work, however, because Sandra is a slow and timid learner. But in the end their efforts are crowned with success and both girls have thrilling orgasms, trembling with ecstasy.

The end of the story turned out to be of much greater interest, and I include it here verbatim from the "Love Unbound" website.

***

IN THE BEGINNING

....Sandra cried out in a kind of agony, her legs thrashing. She thought she was going to faint. It was enormously exciting.

When they pulled apart, Laura said, "That was it."

***

Despite the excitement and intimacy of their afternoon together, Laura never got together with Sandra again. Sandra began avoiding her at school, and whenever Laura tried to talk with her, she would become embarrassed and walk away. That wonderful experience was the end of their friendship. It confused Laura and made her feel ashamed for having shown her all that she had. She worried that Sandra would tell other girls.

As an Epilogue, it might be of interest to relate that Sandra later became a successful corporate attorney, of whom her family and friends were justly proud. Laura had meanwhile become a nurse, and the mother of two beautiful children. Laura didn't see Sandra again until their 10th high school reunion, when she ran into her at the initial mixer. Laura was surprised that Sandra had come all the way from the board rooms of Manhattan to attend. What astonished her even more was that Sandra sought her out, and after an exchange of pleasantries, continued to come back to her for more talk and gossip, while getting increasingly drunk.

Sandra looked fabulous in her elegant clothes and expensive haircut. She had developed well, too. She was slender and fit, her mouth was full and wide, and her eyes bright and alive. Laura found her very attractive, and was so pleased by her attentions that she, too, became quite tipsy. They traded stories of their adventures—Sandra's in corporate America, and Laura's in LA and Oregon. Laura talked mainly about the doings of old friends, her husband, lovers, and children, all of which seemed to be as fascinating to Sandra as her travels in exotic countries were to Laura. Sandra wanted all the juicy details of Laura's life and loves, and they talked as if they had been better friends than in fact they had been. Sandra did not allude to the years when she avoided Laura like the plague, even when they had been in the same classroom. Now, leaning towards each other on the comfortable leather sofa in the darkened corner of the hotel's rooftop lounge, sipping their third drink, it was if they had always been best friends. Sandra asked Laura about her son and daughter, what kind of man her husband was, what kind lover, how often they had sex, and if she remembered the orgasms that had impregnated her. All of which Laura answered in witty, inebriated detail.

By the end of the mixer they were both rosy-cheeked, lusty and more than half in the bag. Almost everyone had gone, and the hotel staff was picking up the empty glasses and vacuuming the carpets. Sandra leaned her lips close to Laura's ear and whispered, "I love you." Laura laughed and blurted with surprised pleasure, "What?"

Sandra put her hand on Laura's neck and pulled her closer, so that her lips were actually touching her ear. "I said I love you, you idiot." Something inside Laura told her it was true, and that she had always known it, that it had been some kind of unspoken secret between them all these years.

Much to her own surprise, Laura turned to Sandra and said, "I know." Sandra was looking Laura in the eyes, her hand still on her neck. She pulled Laura's face to her own and kissed her, a delicious kiss, sucking luxuriously on Laura's full lips and pushing her tongue in between them. Her right hand cupped Laura's left breast and searched for its tender nipple. She held Laura there for several seconds, oblivious to who might see them. Finally, Laura pulled away. "Sandra! What will people say?" Her voice was happy and slightly slurred. She glanced around the almost empty room.

"Who cares what they think!"

"We'd better go," Laura said, standing up with some difficulty, surprised at how tipsy she had become. She almost fell back onto the sofa. "I think I'm drunk," she declared.

Sandra stood up with less difficulty. In the elevator, on the long ride down to the lobby, they looked at themselves in the mirrored walls, checking the condition of their lipstick and mascara. Laura was applying lipstick to her lips. She felt Sandra's hands snake around her waist, and come up to feel her breasts and squeeze their swollen nipples. Laura watched in the mirror as Sandra kissed the back of her neck.

"You've become such a beautiful woman," Sandra said, nuzzling her face into Laura's hair, just behind her ear.

"So have you," Laura said, turning around. Sandra kissed her full on the mouth, running her hands up and down her back, over her ass, and up to tangle in her hair. Laura let herself be carried along on Sandra's passion, feeling herself thrilling to her touch, to her hunger, to her need. She felt a gush of juice soak her already damp underwear.

When the elevator reached the lobby and the doors opened, Sandra held on to Laura and pushed the button for the 12th floor. "You are not leaving. We're going to my room."

"I have to get home. It's after midnight," Laura protested.

"You can call from my room," Sandra said, looking straight into Laura's eyes. It was easy to see how Sandra had become a successful executive. There was not a trace of doubt or indecision in her.

Laura followed Sandra into an elegantly furnished suite. "What is your phone number?" Sandra demanded, as soon as they entered. She dialed Laura's home, and spoke briefly with her husband, informing him that Laura had become too drunk to drive home. Her husband had said he would drive in and pick her up, but Sandra told him she was an old friend and would keep Laura in her room until she sobered up. She hung up before he could protest.

Laura was standing in the middle of the room watching Sandra, admiring her sleek lines, her calves, her trim and muscular buttocks, and the smoothness of the skin on her neck. While she was speaking with Laura's husband, Sandra was pulling off her shoes with her toes and unbuttoning and unzipping her skirt. By the time she had hung up, she was naked from her waist to her feet. She had a thick patch of pubic hair, but the lips of her pussy were shaved.

She came towards Laura, smiling. "Would you hurry up!" she said. "You don't know how long I've waited for this."

When she reached Laura, she took her into her arms again, as she had done in the elevator, and kissed her mouth deeply. Her fingers unzipped Laura's black dress, pulled it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Never letting go of her lips with her own, she unhooked Laura's bra and slipped it from her shoulders, then leaned slightly back to let it fall from her bosom. "Oh, God!" she muttered, as Laura's heavy breasts and swollen nipples came into view. Laura watched Sandra lift her left nipple to her mouth and suck on it hungrily, her body trembling. Sandra's hand went to Laura's crotch and felt it on the outside of her panties, which were soaked through. Sandra stood there in the middle of the room shaking in every limb so violently that Laura cradled her and kissed her lips. Pulling back and looking into Sandra's eyes, Laura saw the timid young girl of 16 years before. Laura kissed her again, and Sandra began to weep uncontrollably.

Two hours later, they lay naked in each other's arms. Sandra's right leg was inside Laura's thighs and pressed against her labia, her right arm around her shoulders, her hand stroking her hair and back and lingering over her buttocks. Their faces were an inch apart, their mouths often touching as they talked. They paused now and again to kiss deeply, luxuriating in the beautiful feelings they had shared, knowing they were free to plunge again into the same ecstasies. They had cried out in the darkness, called each other's name, and laughed with happiness. They were now exhausted and all barriers between them fallen down. Sandra praised the fullness of Laura's beauty, asked about her butterfly tattoo, and gently toyed with her swollen labia and clitoris.

"You know," Sandra said, after a long silence, "I never had another orgasm."

"What do you mean?" Laura asked, brushing her lips across Sandra's and touching them lightly with her tongue. She looked into her eyes.

"After that day with you...in my room." Sandra's eyes were half closed. Her nostrils breathed in the wonderful aroma of their lovemaking.

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said."

"I don't understand," Laura said, putting her lips on Sandra's nose, then on her forehead.

"I don't understand, either," Sandra said. Her nose roved around Laura's face and neck, smelling the odors of her own nectar on her skin. "I've had dozens of lovers, some of them women. I haven't had an orgasm like tonight since that time I was in your room."

"You mean, not as good?"

"No. I mean not at all."

Laura did not get home until after 9:00 Saturday morning. She found her husband in bed, one child snuggled on each side of him, reading the Oregonian.

For the next two days, Laura and Sandra were inseparable. Laura took time off from work on Monday and Tuesday, and after dropping the kids at school, she and Sandra would have breakfast in the hotel or at some local cafe, then make love and talk in Sandra's suite, or drive into the country, visiting old haunts and antique shops.

The last day Sandra was in town, they drove to Oceanside, but returned to the hotel early to talk, make love, concoct adventures they could have together, imagine living in Guatemala or Sri Lanka, discuss problems of the business world and the hospital, child rearing, and what life would be like together in a big city or on a ranch in Eastern Oregon. Sandra asked Laura to move to New York, and five minutes later speculated about opening a law practice in Portland. They talked about taking vacations together in foreign countries where no one knew them, and where they could be lovers and share lovers.

That evening, they all dined together in one of Portland's most expensive restaurants.

Although they corresponded for a time by email, Laura never saw Sandra again. A few months after returning to New York City, Sandra was promoted to a post in London, then, two years later, was moved to Singapore, where she eventually married a wealthy Dutch expatriate who had a string of eco-resorts scattered across Indonesia.