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Tonight’s the Night

By LimeyLady

Copyright Mark C Woolridge (writing as LimeyLady), 2017

Distributed by Smashwords

All characters and events in this publication,

other than those clearly in the public domain,

are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons,

living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter One - Looking out for Madhu

Chapter Two - Freshers’ Week

Chapter Three - Sarah-Jayne

Chapter Four - The girl with a cock

Chapter Five - Monday night fun

Chapter Six - Making up with Madhu

Chapter Seven - Ruby

Chapter Eight - Just good friends

Chapter Nine - Planning a shopping trip

Author’s Note

Other Books by LimeyLady

Chapter One

(September 1997)

The sobbing was coming from room 443; Madhu’s room. It just wasn’t in Angie’s nature to walk on by. Priests and Levites might have been capable of passing on the other side of the halls corridor, but she wasn’t.

She lightly rapped her knuckles on the door.

No response. The sobbing continued.

Angie rapped a little harder. ‘Madhu,’ she said as loud as she dared, ‘it’s me, Angie. What’s wrong?’

That stopped the sobbing. For what seemed like an age nothing happened. Then, as Angie raised her hand to rap once more, the door opened.

Madhu was wearing blue pyjamas. Her lovely face was streaked with tears. Her long black hair had a wild look about it. She was quivering and trembling; lips, body . . . all of her. Those soft brown eyes of hers were deep pools of despair.

Blimey, thought Angie, nobody should be allowed to be so beautiful.

No, delete that; everybody should be so beautiful!!

Casting away pangs of lust, pointedly not looking down the half-unfastened pyjama top, she tried her best to smile.

‘You sounded sad,’ she said. ‘And I said I’d look out for you. Tell me what I can do and I’ll do it.’

‘There’s nothing anyone can do, I’m so lonely,’ Madhu wailed. ‘I daren’t go out of my room. This place is so . . . so . . .’

‘Hush, hush,’ went Angie. ‘We’re neighbours and friends. At least I dearly want you to be my friend.’

‘Me too,’ Madhu managed, sniffling

‘Well there you go then. Friends help each other, don’t they? I’m going to help you. What would your brothers do if they found you like this?’

‘They’d laugh and call me a wuss.’ Madhu sniffled again. ‘But my big sister wouldn’t laugh. She would hug me and make everything okay.’

Mentioning her sister brought on more tears.

‘I can do hugs,’ said Angie, prepared to try anything to turn off the waterworks. ‘Do you think a cuddle will do the trick?’

‘It might do.’

Angie opened her arms and Madhu fell into her embrace. She was warm and curvaceous and smelt of peppermint. Cuddling her was not a problem. Her trembling body was good to hold.

No, her trembling body was very, very good to hold.

Fighting off more lust, resisting the urge to bury her face deep into the girl’s gorgeous hair, Angie took in the room. It was a carbon copy of her own, but much more orderly. There were family photographs and a big vase of fresh flowers on the chest of drawers. No opened, semi-unpacked cases anywhere to be seen. She had moved in seemingly seamlessly. The one and only lack of tidiness was her single bed, which was made but rumpled, proving she’d been sobbing on it rather than in it.

And there was a large teddy bear on her pillow.

Angie felt a lump in her throat. She guessed that right then Madhu felt as if Teddy was her only friend in the whole wide world.

‘I know I’m being pathetic,’ the brown-eyed beauty mumbled, ‘but I’ve never been away on my own before. And my home always has lots of people in it. Normally I’m cross because I can’t ever be on my own. Ironic, isn’t it?’

‘Is your family a large one?’ Angie wondered, glancing again at the photos, recognizing some of the faces from earlier. The three she hadn’t seen before included, she guessed, Madhu’s dad and her big sister. She couldn’t imagine who the woman with ginger hair was; maybe a neighbour.

‘I have three brothers and a sister,’ said Madhu. ‘And Mum, naturally. Dad died five years ago.’

‘Sounds like quite a houseful.’

‘I’ve got dozens of uncles and aunties too. There are cousins popping in and out all the time.’ Madhu let out a sigh. ‘Tomorrow I’m going to pull myself together. Jasmine is at uni in Southampton. She did it, and so can I.’

‘Who is Jasmine?’

‘She’s my big sister. I depend on her for hugs when I need hugging. Well, I did before she went down south. Nowadays she’ll be hugging a ginormous rugby player called Nathan.’

‘A rugby player called Nathan?’ Angie laughed. ‘He sounds like a hunk, never mind ginormous.’

‘He is. He makes Arnold Schwarzenegger look like someone who’d get sand kicked in his face.’

‘Wow, he must be very easy on the eye.’

‘I suppose he is, if you like that sort of thing.’

Angie took a beat before going on: ‘So Jasmine made the transition? Of leaving home, I mean.’

‘Yes. She’s done it and so will I.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ said Angie, still enjoying their cuddle. ‘Listen, I’ve a bottle of wine in my room. Why don’t we go share it?’

Then, realizing the possible blunder: ‘Oh crap, I didn’t mean anything by that! Do you drink alcohol?’

‘Of course I do.’ Madhu conjured up a small smile. ‘In fact I drink far too much, according to my mum. But there’s a bottle of Moet in that small fridge over there. Mum gave me it as a flat-warming present. We could share that instead, couldn’t we?’

Her tear-filled eyes made Bambi’s look like those of a mass murderer, and a sadistic one at that.

‘Let’s not argue the toss,’ said Angie. ‘Why don’t I go get my bottle of red? We can drink them both in here, on your home ground.’

Madhu’s face lit up. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

Chapter Two

For the third morning in a row Angie woke up in bed with a different girl. Except this time, Monday morning, she woke up on the bed rather than in it. And this time sex hadn’t been involved.


Madhu’s bed wasn’t a big one. Two girls sleeping on it simply had to maintain close bodily contact. In such circumstances close bodily contact was a truth universally acknowledged. And Angie wasn’t one to complain about universal truths, was she?

Not with the words “forbidden” and “fruit” rattling around in her head.

Madhu was still asleep and loosely hugging Angie, quite possibly mistaking her for her cuddly teddy bear. Angie didn’t mind that at all. And she certainly wasn’t offended by the hand pressing lightly on her left tit. No, she wasn’t in the least offended by that.

Madhu really is forbidden fruit, she told herself. She’s pure and innocent. Even thinking sexy thoughts about her would be unfair. It would be like killing a mocking bird or shooting an albatross.

It would be good to have a straight friend, though. And it would be good to help Madhu build her self-confidence in day-to-day doings, giving her encouragement as and when needed.

The two of them were embraced on the bed barefoot but otherwise as good as fully clothed. They had chatted long and randomly over their wine and champers, getting better to know each other. Madhu’s great-great-grandfather had, she said, come to Birmingham back in Victorian times. He hadn’t really intended to stay but his tea importing business had been an overnight success.

No, make that more of a goldmine.

And here they all were, more than a hundred years later.

‘We consider ourselves British,’ she’d said. ‘Well, my youngest brother insists on supporting India for the cricket, but he only does that to be rebellious. The rest of us support England and Aston Villa. He supports Birmingham City when it comes to football.’

Angie had found that funny, for some reason. She chuckled again at the memory and Madhu stirred.

‘You’re still here,’ she said drowsily; then, realizing where her hand was and snatching it hastily away: ’Oh my, I’m sorry.’

‘No worries,’ said Angie, ‘it was a nice cuddle. And never mind you apologizing; I’m sorry if I woke you from a pleasant dream.’

Madhu actually blushed at that. ‘I never remember my dreams,’ she said, almost certainly fibbing.

Angie wondered what sort of dreams her new friend might have and if she was a virgin. Surely a girl who still slept with her teddy would be pure in mind and body . . . But if so, why the blush?

And why the see-through fib?

‘I didn’t mean to stay,’ said Angie. ‘It just sort of happened. I think we must have nodded off during our fifth or sixth hug. Maybe the champagne went to our heads.’

‘I don’t remember nodding off,’ Madhu admitted, ‘but I’m glad you did stay. It’s good to wake and see a friendly face.’

‘Have you got a hangover?’

‘No, I feel fine. Everything seems okay now; not nearly so intimidating. I’m ready to face the world.’

‘Good on you,’ Angie said brightly. ‘It’s the start of Freshers’ Week, in case you’ve forgotten. I need to shower then we can go for it. You and me are going to go forth and mingle. Get yourself ready, girl, I’ll be back for you in ten minutes, all right?’


Madhu surprised Angie by showing up unannounced in the communal showers. Not that she objected in any way. In her everyday jeans and T-shirt the girl was unbelievably attractive; in her silky blue jim-jams she was incredibly seductive; but in nothing at all . . .

Angie couldn’t take her eyes off Madhu’s perfect figure: glorious tits, an indecently narrow waist and strong, shapely hips; the girl had it all. Then, smiling very prettily, she turned on the showerhead next to Angie’s and suddenly looked even finer.

Hot, soapy water running over her smooth brown skin, making it glisten and shine.

Ribbons of milky white rushing along and between her delightful bumps and curves . . .

It took a superhuman effort to stop Angie from offering to scrub her back.

As if her back was high on the list of areas she wanted to scrub and rub!

Forbidden fruit, she reminded herself.

Yes, forbidden, and she’ll be all the sweeter for that, some mischievous imp whispered into her ear.

Oblivious to the effect she was having on her new best friend, cheerful, with no signs of agoraphobia to be seen, Madhu accompanied Angie here there and everywhere throughout the morning. Covering every square inch of the campus they were accosted by no end of folk, most of them after fresh blood on behalf of clubs and societies of all descriptions.

Some areas were worse than others. The Great Hall was like an Egyptian bazaar. Half a dozen bank reps wanted them to switch accounts to take “absolutely unprecedented advantage” of “our very best student package ever”. Banking facilities aside, every conceivable type of student need was catered for and sold under high pressure, from pens and paper to condoms.

LGBT had perhaps the biggest presence of all. Angie noticed a busty blonde on their stall and grinned at the sight. If that was Ruby’s latest pull then her taste was not, she decided, lacking.

Speak of the Devil and there she was. Ruby was over at the smaller Lesbian Society stall, keeping a protective eye on Charlie. Angie fully intended to enlist but didn’t want to embarrass Madhu. She gave Charlie a wave and Ruby the finger. Both replied in kind.

Then it was lunchtime and beer and baguettes were in order. The new best friends found themselves a table up in the Union Bar and sat to eat, drink and generally bat the breeze.

‘It’s “Meet Your Course Mates” tomorrow,’ said Madhu. ‘I’m a bit nervous.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Angie volunteered. ‘I know I’m not on your course, but I’ll stay until I’m sure you’re all right. Then I’ll go meet a few course mates of my own.’

‘You’re so brave,’ Madhu replied. ‘I wish I was an only child.’

‘No you don’t. You have a loving family who’ll always be there for you. My dad will have rented out my bedroom already.’

‘You don’t really mean that, do you?’

‘Of course I don’t.’ Angie laughed. ‘My parents are wonderful and I don’t regret anything. But it would have been interesting to have had three hunky brothers.’

Madhu stared at her.

‘As role models, I mean. ‘Angie laughed. ‘That way I’d know how men feel and think. You’ve got a big advantage over me, haven’t you?’

She went to the bar for more Marston’s, still chuckling and sure she’d covered her tracks. She wasn’t in the least ashamed of her sexuality but instinctively didn’t want Madhu to know; at least not just yet. A girl who slept with her teddy bear might not be pleased to learn she’d also slept with a lezzie. Even though nothing had happened, a more gradual disclosure seemed to be the order of the day.

But Sarah-Jayne had other ideas.

As Angie looked imploringly at busy barmen and barmaids a hand landed on her bum.

‘I thought I was next in line,’ the familiar voice said, and not without a hint of accusation.

Angie looked into Sarah-Jayne’s eyes and knew it was decision time. Being influenced by a few pints was no longer a possibility. Sarah-Jayne wanted to fuck with her and was making her move here and now. She had to react.

After all the previous internal debate Angie’s final decision wasn’t so tricky. Her one male lover hadn’t been able to make her cum with his real-life cock, but several women had managed it easily enough with artificial ones. Surely Sarah-Jayne . . . as a woman with a real-life cock . . . could do the deed.

And that was what she was, wasn’t it? She was a woman with a cock, not a man with tits.

Besides, she had come to uni to be educated, hadn’t she? What could possibly be more educational than being fucked by a woman with a cock?

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