The Laura Effect [FF, Fdom, Humil] (Part 4 of 5)

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Over the next two days I was tormented by personal anguish. In terms of sex I had never felt so exhilarated but I was allowing it to seriously cloud my professional judgement.

I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that I might have to make some serious changes in my life. I knew that I should no longer represent Laura and that led me to re-examine my whole career strategy. More than once recently I had looked at opportunities in Australia. They were crying out for qualified professionals and the salaries reflected their desperate need.

If I made the move I could afford the house of my dreams, complete with swimming pool, for less than I was paying for my apartment. The stumbling block had always been my relationship with John. I had touched on the subject once or twice but he was lukewarm. His career prospects would be seriously prejudiced and he was not a fan of warm climates.

The big difference now was my whole attitude towards my engagement. John had finally caved in and called me leaving two messages on my answer phone. He sounded hurt and genuinely sorry but I had still not returned his calls.

More tellingly, I had surfed the net checking the criteria for Australian visas and then, guiltily, tried to find some websites which would tell me what the attitude was towards gay women.

I was actually drafting my request to be taken off Laura’s case when the telephone rang.

“Hi, it’s me Miranda, can you talk?”

“Yes, of course”

I was a little bemused. I had not expected to hear from her again.

“I’ve been thinking over what you said, about meeting Laura Simmons, can you arrange it?”

I had exceeded my authority in broaching the subject in the first place but such was the current enthusiasm for the scheme I was sure that something could be done.

“Yes, it shouldn’t present a problem.”

“Where would the meeting take place?”

“It’s up to you. Some people choose to meet in prison others opt for their own home.”

“I don’t want that bitch to know where I live now!”

The fierceness of her reply caught me by surprise.

“It might be possible to set up a neutral venue.”

There was a long pause before she spoke again.

“How many people have to be present?”

“At the meeting itself? There would be three; you and she plus a mediator. In Laura’s case there would have to be at least two guards but they could wait outside.”

“Could you act as mediator?”

“In theory I’m qualified but I have had no specific training besides which I am not sure that it would be entirely appropriate.”

It seemed surreal to be having a conversation of this manner given the nature of our most recent encounter but when she spoke next there was a hint of desperation in her voice.

“I have to get her out of my head and I want you to help…you owe me.”

I was uneasy with the whole prospect but she was right, I felt that I owed her something. I also wanted to do the right thing by Laura. She was no longer going to be my responsibility but if I could be influential in getting her custodial sentence reduced, and help her long term career prospects, I would feel better about myself.

It took a lot of string pulling to bring it together but the date for a meeting was finally set. The venue proved problematical. Miranda was not prepared to visit the prison and her home was out of the question but it was she who finally came up with a solution. Her company sometimes used a particular hotel suite for their more prestigious interviews. It had the benefit of being both very central and very secure and, in presentation terms, the spectacular views across the city, with all the well known landmarks, afforded a stunning backdrop.

It was booked by the day and she found a day when filming would be completed in the morning leaving it free for the afternoon. I arrived early but was surprised to find Miranda already there. She was modestly attired in a fetching blue sun dress and she had a drink in her hand.

“We will need to dispense with the alcohol before they arrive.”

She looked at me blankly and quickly drained her glass. I took it from her and set it to one side before joining her at the small conference table. I spent a few minutes outlining the various “do’s and don’ts” and then there was a knock at the door.

Laura stood there flanked by two smartly, but informally, dressed female guards and I could not help but stare. In preparation for the meeting she had been granted access to a hairdresser and she was allowed to wear her own clothes. She looked simply breathtaking. She was wearing her thick blonde hair in a flowing shoulder length style that softened her features and her make-up was subtly applied to highlight her clear blue eyes and a smile that would be the envy of a Hollywood starlet.

She had chosen to wear a dark, off the shoulder, a-line dress. She must have bought it from a chain store but she made it look haute couture. She had lost a little weight whilst on remand, and her tan had completely faded, but that only added to the allure of her svelte figure.

Strictly speaking the guards should have remained outside the door of the room in which the meeting was taking place but the suite was enormous and they did not protest when I suggested they make themselves comfortable in the kitchen. There were some magazines on the small dining table and I told them to help themselves to coffee. I then led Laura through to the living area and closed the door behind us for privacy.

As soon as she walked into the room the atmosphere was charged. I saw that the change in her appearance was as much of a shock to Miranda as it had to me. I invited Laura to sit at the opposite end of the table to Miranda whilst I sat to one side between them.

I opened the proceedings by explaining the purpose of the encounter and made it clear to Laura that I would bring the meeting to an immediate close if Ms. Coombes was in any way uncomfortable. I did not mention the word ‘apology’ but I trusted that Laura had sufficient good sense to see that the ball was in her court and that she had a lot to gain.

I then invited Miranda to speak. She had her eyes downcast, staring at the table top, but she raised them slowly to meet Laura’s steady gaze.

“I just want to know why you did it.”

“You know why, you accused me of cheating.”

Miranda seemed lost for words for a moment but then regained her composure.

“You could have lodged an official complaint. What you did was immoral.”

“Would they have believed me?”

The conversation was not going the way I had envisaged. I had expected Miranda to take the high ground with Laura showing, at least, some contrition. Looking at Miranda I could see that she was getting agitated as she sat with one hand clasped almost painfully around the other.

Laura, by contrast, had her hands resting in her lap but I noticed that she had leaned forward just a little causing her breasts to bulge very slightly against the bust line of her dress. I was immediately transported back to our first meeting and her inappropriate behavior and, for reasons I could not explain to myself, I cast a furtive glance towards the large bed visible through the door to the adjacent room.

I mentally shook myself and tuned back in to what was being said. I had missed Miranda’s next remark but caught Laura’s reply.

“But surely that’s worth an apology.”

“Look, I admit, I may have misjudged you but nothing can condone what you did to me.”

Laura paused before replying, and as she did so she leaned even further across the table. She spoke conspiratorially, almost in a stage whisper.

“If you tell me honestly, that there was no part of it that you actually enjoyed, then I will apologize.”

This was Miranda’s cue for high dudgeon but, instead, she looked at me almost beseechingly.

I tried to retake control.

“Laura, don’t be ridiculous. Your actions amounted to an assault, tantamount to rape. If you cannot see that then I see no point in continuing here.”

Laura turned to meet my stare.

“If that’s the case then why did you get so turned on when I told you about it?”

I did not look but I could now feel Miranda’s eyes boring into the side of my head as I replied.

“I find your remarks very offensive and you are certainly not helping your case here”

Persistent liars get away with what they do because they are so glib, they can live the lie and almost believe themselves. The rest of us always give ourselves away. It might be a tiny facial gesture or an almost imperceptible change in our tone of voice but somehow we betray ourselves.

Laura knew but, worse still, I sensed that Miranda knew too. I turned towards her, to reassure her that I was still on her side, but she was looking at me aghast. Before I could say anything else Laura spoke again.

“My, my ladies. What have we been up to?”

I snapped back at her.

“I think it’s time we brought things to a close.”

Laura did not move. She looked at Miranda who could not meet her eye.

“I don’t think that Miranda is ready to finish just yet.”

I waited for Miranda to back me but she remained silent.

“Miranda? Are we done?”

Laura laughed, as I received no reply, and then taunted me.

“You still don’t get it do you? She’s not here for an apology.”

I looked at Miranda and saw it was true.She appeared totally cowed. Without thinking, I took her hand in mine to offer reassurance but as I did so Laura rose from her seat. We both sat their mutely as, without another word, she began to unfasten the buttons at the front of her dress.

I was about to berate her when Miranda squeezed my hand tightly. Things were getting out of control but I had no idea what to do about it.

Laura had now unbuttoned her dress to the waist and she narrowed her shoulders to allow it to slide down to her ankles. She was left standing in a pair of heels and matching set of simple black bra and panties. As we watched she turned slightly towards us and I saw that, even dressed in modest underwear, she was still cover girl material.

The bra struggled to contain her well formed breasts and my eye was drawn down to the narrow pinch of her waist and the flared perfection of her hips before appreciating her coltish legs which were longer than I had imagined.

She stood for a few seconds and then she sashayed towards the bedroom with us both staring at her flawless backside.

Framed by the doorway she sat down on the end of the bed and then she extended a beckoning finger.

I knew it was the moment to draw the line but I felt powerless as Miranda slipped her hand from mine and got up from her seat. She was like a somnambulist as she walked away from me and I rose in a half-hearted attempt to pull her back from the brink.

In so doing I simply followed her into the bedroom where she stood in front of her nemesis with her head bowed. Laura glanced at me fleetingly before addressing herself to Miranda.

“Undress for me.”

There was no wavering. She reached for the zip at the side of her dress and pulled it all the way down. She slipped out of it without taking her eyes away from Laura and then started on her underwear. I noted that it was of the very expensive ‘show off’ variety and, once again, I wondered for whose benefit she had worn it.

Within seconds she was totally naked, standing with her hands at her sides, and I found myself staring at her breasts. They were possibly larger than Laura’s and I suspected that, in years to come, she might need some assistance to hold back the effects of gravity but, for now, I was envious.

Her nipples were perfect brown roundels pointing proudly upwards and, even as I looked, they slowly distended. I immediately felt a tingling between my legs and, with the thought matching the deed, I dropped my eyes to Monica’s sex.

It was covered by a closely shaved frizz of red hair which defined a tight, almost girlish, slit but there was an obvious dampness at its median. Even as I looked a distant voice was telling me that her destiny was in my hands but my physical immobility was matched only by the sluggishness of my thought processes.

As she stood timidly before Laura I was put in mind of slave girl of ancient times stoically awaiting her fate and she was not left in doubt for very long.

“You know what I want.”

Laura spoke assuredly and, notwithstanding my recent experiences, I felt like an ingénue in her presence. It seemed that Miranda was similarly affected as she gracefully fell to her knees.

She started to reach forward slowly but Laura brought her up short.

“Wait.”

She reached behind her own back and deftly flicked her bra open. Then, like a burlesque artiste, she slowly unveiled her breasts.

I had seen them before, albeit fleetingly, but my memory had not played me false. They were as magnificent as I remembered them and I felt a primal urge to reach out and touch but I was ignored as Laura settled once more.

Miranda needed no further prompting. She gently took hold of Laura’s panties and, as Laura raised herself, she slid them down her legs. Slipping them free she knelt with them in cupped hands, as if they were priceless vestments, and looked at Laura who favored her with an indulgent smile.

As I looked on in disbelief she brought her hands to her face and I heard her breathing deeply.

“Have you missed me baby?”

Miranda seemed not to hear. Her eyes were closed and she was gently caressing her face with the warm cotton. It was, at the same time, both repellent and compelling.

“Enough.”

Laura spoke the word quietly but Miranda’s eyes opened as if it had been shouted. Reluctantly, she put her trophy aside but her face lit up when, with calculated slowness, Laura opened her legs.

I found that I was holding my breath and could not shake the feeling that she was toying with us both. The room was silent save for the double-glazed hush of traffic and the low hum of the air conditioning and so, when Miranda started to groan, I felt the hairs standing up on my neck.

Her eyes were fixed between Laura’s legs and then I saw why she was so affected. Laura’s sex was a plump, perfectly depilated mound, which seemed out of keeping with her otherwise lean features. The pale mons had a youthful tightness which only served to emphasize the proud prominence of her inner labia which formed a pair of matched ruffles shading from pink to cerise.

Even from a distance I could see the moist evidence of her arousal and my nostrils widened involuntarily.

Miranda’s upper body was swaying very slightly, and I feared that she was going to faint, but it was simply the strain of holding herself in check until Laura granted permission.

“Go ahead…”

My heart leapt as Miranda fell upon her like a ravening beast. I remembered the feeling of her face between my own legs as she lost control and I felt a twinge of envy but Laura simply looked down upon her and laughed softly.

“That’s not doing it for me babe.”

Miranda looked chastened as she stopped and then reapplied herself more methodically. She pointed her tongue and gently swept along the divide of her labia which rippled as if imbued with a life of their own.

“That’s more like it. Take your time. We do have plenty of time don’t we?”

Whilst she did not look up I knew that this last question was directed at me and that it was intended as a taunt. She was letting me know that I could bring it to an immediate halt, it was entirely up to me.

In the next minute or two I tried to process so many confused thoughts, not least what was best for Miranda, but watching her there, expressing her devotion, it was hard to believe that she would rather be somewhere else.

For my own part I hated being used but I could feel that my panties were already sodden.

And so I did nothing.

I stood there watching as Laura relaxed and Miranda continued to moan quietly content to lick forever. I could almost feel the exquisite pressure of her tongue and I so desperately wanted to touch myself.

As I fought down the urge Laura looked across at me.

“Why don’t you get undressed? If you’re a good girl, or should that be bad girl?, I might let you have a turn.”

Her condescending tone rankled and, under normal circumstances, I would have put her firmly back in her place but I felt as if I was in a parallel universe and it was with an unearthly sense of detachment that I began to remove my clothes.

I did it slowly, not wishing to break the spell, and then stood naked awaiting Laura’s caprice. She had her hand resting soothingly on Miranda’s head whilst, at the same time, making it clear exactly what she wanted. Together they formed a tableau of almost heartbreaking beauty and I yearned to be enjoined.

Finally, with languid insouciance, she rose from the bed momentarily leaving Miranda at a loss. She idly brushed at the counterpane with the back of her hand and then picked up one of the pillows. She plumped it up, and placed it just so, before turning to me.

“Come and make yourself comfortable”

It was an echo of the words that Nicola had used and it brought a frisson of excitement. I crossed the room, mindful of Miranda watching me from the corner of her eye, and laid myself down.

I looked down my body at Miranda’s face, framed by my parted legs, and I tried to read her expression. At first I feared that she thought me guilty of betrayal but then I realized that, now she was reunited with Laura, I was simply a distraction.

“Show her what you can do…”

Laura’s command brought the tiniest hint of irritation to Miranda’s face but I found that it only made me hotter.

She made herself as comfortable as she could and then, as if to pay me back, she began to lick at my inner thighs. I gave a groan and squirmed. It would have taken very little to take me over the edge but I was no longer calling the shots.

She teased me for several minutes and moved further up my body where her tongue did things to my navel that no one had done before. Then, each time she moved south again, I braced myself only to have her shy away to give more attention to my legs.

I was soon perspiring freely and I was only vaguely aware as Laura’s smiling face loomed over me.

“She’s good isn’t she?”

As if this was a signal her tongue trailed down from my navel once more but, this time, she crossed the neatly delineated border of my pubis and she began to twirl silky blonde hairs with her tongue.

Now that she was so close the torment was even greater. She preened me with feline grace but avoided my labia which, stimulated by the close proximity, were screaming out for attention.

I could feel myself leaking copiously and the scent of my arousal filled the air to an almost embarrassing degree. Any pretense of self control was long gone as my hips shifted restlessly in an effort to make her eat me.

I was so tense that I failed to notice when she finally took mercy and began to lick gently up through my heated furrow; it took an effort to relax sufficiently to appreciate the wonderful new sensations which seemed to buzz through my whole sex.

I felt my climax building with a delicious inevitability but her touch, up to then so sure, became lighter so that her tongue was barely in contact. I raised my hips slightly to encourage her but she was not going to be hurried.

Over the next twenty minutes she must have brought me to the brink at least a dozen times only to cruelly withhold the prize each time. I was panting with need and I was pleading under my breath.

Laura filled my field of vision again.

“Do you want to come? Shall I tell her?”

“Make her do it…”

I could hardly get the words out and the tension in my neck increased as she built me up once again. This time it was so close. I closed my eyes and arched my back but a sudden pressure in my chest made me fear that I was having a cardiac arrest.

I opened my eyes just in time to see Laura slipping her knees over my shoulders and using her weight to press my body back onto the bed. For a moment I was frozen in panic but then I registered her sex just inches above my face.

It was obvious what she wanted but I shook my head in denial.

“I can’t…”

“Don’t be silly, of course you can…”

Her thighs tightened a little about my head, restricting my movements, and I had no choice but to focus on her sex. It was dry now save for the labia themselves which had swollen free almost obscenely to pronounce their slippery arousal.

I remembered how it all started. It seemed a lifetime ago, that first tentative sniff of my fingers, and it had culminated in this, impossible to imagine, encounter. Now I could smell her again but this time there was no escape.

I could still not bring myself to do it but Miranda chose that moment to flick her tongue across my clitoris. I gasped but at the same time my neck jerked bringing my lips to hers. I immediately fell back but the taste was now there. My own tongue, obeying some long buried animal instinct, sought it out and found it not entirely disagreeable. I licked my lips again, this time a little more boldly, to find that the taste was slightly musty but with an enticing, underlying, sweetness.

I looked up to see Laura staring down at me with a knowing smile on her face. As I watched she brought a finger to her sex and slid it inside herself effortlessly. She twisted it slightly and then eased it out again now shiny with moisture. I kept my mouth tightly closed but she ran her finger over my lips and awaited the inevitable result.

It was like trying to eat doughnuts without licking the sugar from my lips. My tongue had a mind of its own as it slipped out and soon my mouth was filled with the rich taste of her.

“Do you like it…. of course you do.”

I desperately wanted to deny it but the truth was I did like it.

“Come on… be good to me.”

She relaxed a little and softly brushed her labia back and forth across my lips. The sensation was a little ticklish and I opened my mouth fractionally. I was still uncertain but all my senses were slowly being overwhelmed. Her legs muffled my hearing; all I could hear, apart from the pounding of my own pulse, was the lulling sound of her voice. I could not draw breath without filling my lungs with her scent and I could see nothing except the almost hypnotic beauty of her sex.

In those warm, smothering, confines it became easier to simply surrender and she recognized the moment of transition.

“Lick me…”

She said it so softly that I almost did not hear but I slowly put out my tongue.

Her lips were surprisingly smooth but they were rich with her taste and I lapped at them tenderly. At that same moment Miranda’s tongue found my clitoris again and my own arousal instantly soared.

We remained locked like that for a minute or two but my body was shaking as Miranda took me ever higher. I could no longer stay in control but I knew what I wanted to do. As I neared the point of no return I closed my mouth around Laura’s sex and pushed my tongue deep inside. The heat, and the pressure of her muscles, came as a surprise but I was rewarded with a wellspring of moisture.

I started to cry out as my climax took hold but I kept my tongue in place and drank her in. I did not want it to end and Miranda used her mouth to entice every last jolt of pleasure from me.

When it was over I could still feel her tongue helping to slowly ease me down but Laura was in no hurry to move. She slowly rubbed herself over my nose and mouth marking out a territory she now knew to be hers.

Finally, she deigned to rise, but, for a moment or two, I could not find the strength to get myself up. I lay there recovering my breath and trying not to consider the consequences of what had just taken place.

“You don’t mind?”

Laura had found the mini bar and was mixing a gin and tonic and, bizarrely, I found myself worrying about the professional consequences of allowing her access to alcohol. Miranda, meanwhile, was still kneeling at the foot of the bed clearly awaiting further instructions which were not long in coming.

“I want to watch you two together.”

I knew that she was taking it too far but Miranda smiled slyly and stood up. Any vestige of subservience fell away and her pose was now deliberately provocative; when she wanted to be she was very confident of her own appeal.

Her face was still shiny with moisture, most of it mine, but I must have looked much the same to her. She held my eye as she knelt on to the bed and I felt uneasy. I could kid myself that Laura had forced herself upon me but, if I accepted this, there could be no way back.

I raised myself on my elbows but she was already sliding herself over me and I felt a delectable shiver as she allowed her breasts to brush over mine. I closed my eyes to try and deny the arousing sensation but then I felt the warmth of her breath as she closed her mouth over mine.

Her kiss was soft, knowing, and totally irresistible. Almost immediately I could taste myself but, far from being off-putting, I wanted more. My tongue met hers in a slow writhing dance and, for a space of time, Laura was totally forgotten.

I lay down, allowing her to dictate the pace, and gasped as her thigh eased between my legs. Before long I was trying to raise my hips to increase the wonderful pressure on my sex but she rose with me not allowing me to go too fast.

For a few more moments we remained joined in an unbroken kiss and our perspiring bodies continued to move as one. I could feel another climax simmering but Miranda too was growing less composed.

She broke the kiss and looked down into my eyes and I was struck by how truly beautiful she was. She smiled in an unspoken acknowledgement and then slowly, sexily, she turned herself around until we were posed in a classical soixante-neuf.

Only moments before I would have fought against her but now, with her red tinged sex poised invitingly, I not only wanted to taste her I wanted to bring her something of the pleasure that she had already brought me.

I raised by head enough to take a first hesitant lick and her sex, which had appeared so firm, almost unassailable, split like a ripe fruit. My tongue was welcomed deep inside and her taste flooded her mouth.

She gave a feline growl and, growing emboldened, I placed my hands on her hips and pulled myself more tightly in. To start with I was content to probe as deeply as I could but then, mastering the inverted topography, I licked at her clitoris.

As soon as I did so I felt her tongue engage with my own sex and I almost cried out. She began to mirror my movements and I became lost in a new depth of intimacy. I had only to let her know what I wanted by using my tongue and my wish was immediately fulfilled.

I lost track of time as I increased the intensity of my impending climax by proxy and it was clear that she too was close. She was now lying heavily on me, my face pressed close by her thighs, but I no longer cared. We both began to increase the tempo until, with a final, frantic, fluttering of tongues we came together bound as one.

It took a long time to recover, with neither of us having the strength to move, and I lay inert with her weight making breathing difficult but, even now, I was aware of many different smells. There was the dampness of perspiration, the clash of mixed perfumes but, overall, there was the hot, raw, smell of her sex.

“That was quite a show ladies.”

Laura’s voice was an unwelcome intrusion, a reminder of a world to which I was in no hurry to return, but, reluctantly, Miranda and I peeled ourselves apart. I sat up, knowing that I should take charge, but feeling morally deficient. It took Laura to impose her natural authority.

“Lie down, you know how I want it.”

I instinctively turned around, now ready to leap to Miranda’s defense, but I was not prepared for the beatific on her face. To my amazement, after all she had already been through, she laid down meekly on the bed.

Laura, no doubt fired up from watching us, wasted no time. She straddled Miranda’s face and bore down. My own tongue and jaw ached, albeit pleasantly, and I was surprised that Miranda could still continue but a heartfelt groan from Laura told me that she had found the mark once more.

For a second time I found myself watching and, after just a few minutes, I became a little jealous. Such was the intensity of Miranda’s ministrations that Laura had pitched forward and was supporting her weight on her elbows. This left me with an unhindered view and to my own astonishment I realized that I was aroused once more despite having just reached two of the most satisfying orgasms of my life.

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 center 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 labors, 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!”

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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/iethaq/the_laura_effect_ff_fdom_humil_part_4_of_5