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Fat Bottomed Girls

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 - A girly night out

Chapter Two - Dani

Chapter Three - Lots more of Dani

Chapter Four - Showering with Madhu

Chapter Five - Shopping

Chapter Six - A taste of honey

Chapter Seven - Toy time

Chapter Eight - Helen

Author’s Note

Other Books by LimeyLady

Chapter One

(September 1997)

Angie stopped one step inside the Union Bar. It was Friday night, seven o’clock and already busier by far than she’d ever seen.

Then again, she had only been at uni a week, and for Freshers’ Week at that. Maybe this was the way ahead. Maybe this was how Friday nights would always be.

Meaning bars jam-packed with students of all ages, all of them out for a good time.

Freddie Mercury was on the juke, expressing appreciation for fat bottomed girls.

And who was likely to argue about that?

Not Angie.

Grinning, absolutely at home, she took in her surroundings. The pool table to her right was occupied by four girls (and yes, the one bending to take her shot was fat bottomed; but in a very alluring sort of a way). Every last one of the video games was noisily in use, mostly by spotty-faced males, intent on zapping aliens. Girl-power ruled as far as the darts boards were concerned and there seemed to be a lot of serious scoring going on. Phil Taylor might have struggled to keep up with some of those babes.

Well, he might if he relaxed his ultra-professional persona for one second and looked at their tidy little doubles instead of the usual trebles.

The background music was ever-changing. Freddie gave way to Roger Daltry, wanting to know who someone or other was.

‘Who, who,’ Angie breathed, ‘who, who.’

The influx of older students had been steadily increasing over the past week; she’d been noticing new faces ever since she’d arrived, as long ago as last Friday. Now, two days before university life began for real, just about everybody was here and the place was full to overflowing.

Speaking of which . . .

Angie let her eyes drift to Lesbians’ Corner. Promisingly enough, there were new faces there. Well, if not “new” at least different. More second and third years reclaiming their territory, she concluded.

Oh yes. Yum, yum!

Somehow remembering she was supposed to be out on a date, Angie had a closer look at the Union Bar’s most alluring (if unofficial) section.

Crikey, Billie was there, chatting with Charlie and that big-busted blonde from LGBT.

Composing herself, Angie approached her friends’ table. She was supposed to be dating Billie tonight but had fucked with Charlie as recently as Wednesday. How awkward was that?

Apart from Charlie having a live-in lover who reacted like a dangerous dog every time she saw Angie; that could be even more awkward!

No, make that a live-in lover who was, co-incidentally, fucking around with the LGBT blonde as well.

‘Hey lover,’ Billie said in greeting, jumping to her feet and kissing Angie on the mouth. Then, all green hair, tats and piercings, she grinned at the others. My round,’ she said, ‘make Angie welcome. She’s not as ferocious as she looks.’

‘She looks good to me,’ the LGBT blonde responded, matching Billie’s grin.

‘And I know she’s good,’ Charlie replied with a titter.

‘Marston’s,’ Billie said to Angie, ‘as if I need to ask.’

‘I’m Dani,’ the blonde added, thrusting out her hand. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you, Angie, all of it good.’

‘I’ve only been here a week,’ said Angie, shaking the proffered hand, noting the way Dani did not rush to let go.

‘A week’s a long time in higher education.’ Dani laughed. ‘And aren’t we lucky? We have months and months left ahead of us.’

‘It’s beer time,’ Billie said pointedly. ‘Come and help me carry them, Danielle.’

Angie shot Charlie a glance as she sat. ‘Where’s the Rottweiler?’

Charlie pretended to check under the table before replying. ‘If you’re referring to Ruby, she has had a family crisis. Her dad drove into a bus.’

Angie was about to say she hoped it was nothing trivial. But that would be spiteful about a guy she did not even know. Instead she rounded her eyes.

‘Is he okay?’

‘He is now, but he had time in Intensive Care. Rubes rang me maybe an hour ago. They’ve taken him out to a general ward, left him at the mercy of the nurses. Apparently he’s recovering and as happy as a pig in shit.’

‘What a quaint turn of phrase,’ said Angie. Then, deadly serious: ‘What’s the crack with you and Dani? She’s Ruby’s latest pull, isn’t she?’

‘Rubes asked me to look after her.’ Charlie sniggered. ‘I’ve been doing my utmost, obviously.’

‘She seems like a girl who can look after herself.’

‘Right, tell me about it,’ said Charlie. Then, soft and urgent: ‘Here they come. Woman up and let’s see where we go.’

‘See where we go . . .’

Angie fell silent as the other two girls returned to their table.

‘I got you an extra,’ ‘Billie said, depositing a couple of pints in front of Angie. ‘Can’t have you claiming that we’ve all supped more than you, can we?’

‘Billie suggested we join your pub crawl,’ Charlie added. ‘Sounds good doesn’t it, the four of us on the lash, painting the town red. Or do you think we would be cramping your style?’

Angie glanced at Billie, who was sitting rather close to Charlie. There was history there; suddenly she was sure there was.

But what did it matter? She’d agreed to have the most open of open relationships with Billie. So what if Billie ended up with Charlie tonight. They were a four, weren’t they? Two sets of two.

Did it really matter which two got it together?

Well yes, clearly it did, but not necessarily at that very moment.

Not if the LGBT blonde was game for a laugh.

Angie drained her first pint in one.

‘Painting the town red sounds good to me,’ she said. ‘Let’s go for it, girls!’

Chapter Two

Three pubs into the crawl and Angie had exchanged perhaps twenty words with her so-called date. Billie was lavishing most of her attention on Charlie, who seemed to have forgotten all about looking after Dani.

In contrast Dani had lavished her attention on Angie. She liked girls with shaven heads, she assured her. And she particularly liked girls who weren’t afraid to “experiment”.

‘I heard you’ve been with Sarah-Jayne,’ she said. ‘That must have been an experience.’

‘It was,’ Angie admitted. ‘But seeing as I don’t gossip, I’m not telling you about it.’

‘That’s a pity. Rumour has it she’s hung like a horse.’

‘I’ve never been with a horse,’ Angie grinned, ’so I can’t comment on that.’

‘But she is hung? Go on, you can tell me. I went with a tranny myself once. It was blissful.’

‘Sorry, I still have no comment.’

Dani sniggered. ‘What about this stunning Indian neighbour everyone’s jilling over; can you comment on her?’

‘Madhu classes herself as English, not Indian. Yes, she is stunning, but she’s also innocent and very straight. And that’s all I’m saying.’

Angie crossed her fingers behind her back as she made that little statement. Madhu wasn’t as straight as she had made out. And she wasn’t merely a bit curious; that girl was ready to take the next step or two, and big ones at that.

Like most probably tomorrow afternoon.

For perhaps ten minutes Dani stopped overtly flirting and talked about herself. She was, she said, a post-grad student but effectively here as a new starter. She’d recently graduated from Leeds and, due to “changing circumstances” had opted to carry on her studies in darkest Lancashire.

‘I have contacts in LGBT here,’ she said. ‘I’d only heard good things. And they were all true. I couldn’t possibly be out in better company than I am tonight.’

‘I’ve made some good friends already,’ Angie said, ‘and you’re right; Charlie and Billie are great to be with.’

‘Those two are fun but I was referring to the youngest member of the crew.’ Dani was staring intently at Angie as she spoke. ‘The one we older women find irresistible.’

Angie didn’t let herself be flattered by that. Well, not too much, anyway. Older women were rather her forte. Her very first female was in her thirties and all of her more recent ones were senior by a year or two. Nowadays she knew she appealed to a lot of different types and ages.

And, at twenty-one going on twenty-two, Dani fit into the pattern like a hand in a glove.

Or maybe like a hand in a . . .

‘What about Ruby,’ Angie said aloud, ‘aren’t you missing her?’

‘I like Ruby but she’s Charlie’s girlfriend, not mine. And Charlie doesn’t seem to be missing her.’

Angie followed Dani’s glance, saw Charlie and Billie kissing and shrugged.

‘Looks like you’re right,’ she said.

‘Don’t you mind?’ asked Dani. ‘This is supposed to be your date with Billie, after all.’

‘Let’s just say open relationships are the order of the day. And Charlie’s a good kisser. Kissing her is a very easy habit to get into. I don’t blame Billie at all.’

She looked back at Dani in time to see her tilt her head, her eyes suddenly smouldering. There was no doubt she was offering up her lips.

Angie wasn’t renowned for hesitating at moments like that. Blanking out the rest of the noisy, smoky and crowded pub, she kissed Dani.

And wow, wasn’t that a good decision. She had often been told she had amazingly soft lips but Dani’s were softer still. Their mouths seemed to melt together and Angie immediately went into that swoony, swirly state of being where she’d likely agree to anything.

In fact bugger agreeing; she was in that state where she’d most likely suggest anything.

Time became relative. Eventually, after light years of swooning and swirling, Dani’s super-soft tongue pushed oh-so gently into Angie’s mouth. Angie met it just as gently, not so much duelling as caressing and encouraging it.

‘Yuk you two,’ Charlie’s voice cut in, ‘get a room!’

‘What an excellent idea,’ said Dani, smiling into Angie’s eyes. ‘Maybe a few more drinks and what do you say?’

Angie looked at Charlie and Billie’s grinning faces. ‘You started it,’ she said.

‘We had a little peck for old times’ sake,’ Billie countered. ‘You two were having oral sex.’

‘Oral’s better than just talking about it,’ Dani said smartly.

Laughing, the four young women moved on to the next pub, where Angie caught up with Billie in the ladies’.

‘This open relationship,’ she began.

‘It’s working well, isn’t it?’ Billie chuckled. ‘Listen, Angie, me and you can get it together anytime, but tonight we have a one-off window of opportunity. I haven’t shagged with Charlie since she hooked up with your best mate, Ruby. And Dani, who has co-incidentally shagged with both Charlie and Ruby, is hot for you. It’s written in the stars, isn’t it?’

‘What about Ruby? What’s she going to say if she finds out? And what if she catches you and Charlie at it? She might arrive home at any minute.’

‘Dani’s got a house,’ Billie replied smoothly. ‘She’s there on her own at the moment, and Ruby doesn’t know where it is. I bet she’ll go for a four-girl housewarming.’

It was clearly another of those instant-decision occasions. ‘Okay,’ said Angie, ‘you get her to agree to a one-off housewarming and I’ll play along.’


Dani didn’t need any persuading. Abandoning their pub crawl the girls called at an off licence for beer and wine then strolled to a detached house in one of the nicer parts of town.

‘The rent on this must be astronomical,’ Charlie observed, thinking aloud like the student she was.

‘I inherited it,’ said Dani. ‘There isn’t any rent; just rates and utilities.’

‘You inherited it!’

‘Yeah; my aged aunt died late last year. She left it to me. That’s why I switched from Leeds. Dad says it’s not the best time to sell, but things are picking up. So I’m going to live here for two or three years, get massively qualified, and then cash in for squillions.’

‘A landed woman,’ said Billie, ‘just what I’ve always wanted. Will you marry me?’

‘Sorry, sweetheart. I’m not the marrying kind.’

With the exception of the lounge, the house was furnished with what probably were antiques, and not well-preserved ones at that. To girls accustomed to halls and student flats it was, however, luxurious in the extreme.

‘This is my living space,’ Dani said, showing them into the lounge. ‘It needs decorating, but the suite is brand-new.’

Billie swigged lager out of a can. ‘It looks good to me. Are you sure you’re not the marrying kind?’

Ignoring her, Dani took Angie’s hand.

‘We’re going to inspect my bedroom,’ she said. ‘Well, maybe all of upstairs. You two get the run of all downstairs. Is that a deal?’

‘Yes,’ said Charlie, jumping in before Billie could delay proceedings.

Angie swigged down her wine and let herself be led from the room.

‘We might be some time,’ Dani called as they exited, a la Captain Oates. ‘Don’t drink all the vino.’

Chapter Three

Angie was unfastening the buttons of Dani’s man-like white shirt when she realized she hadn’t a clue what was expected of her. So far as she knew Dani had fucked with Ruby and Charlie . . . very much polar extremes, if ever there were any!

Not that Angie had laid a finger on Ruby of course. She hadn’t dared. The last thing she needed was having her finger bitten off.

So, she was very much judging Ruby by her appearance. But classing her as an aggressive bitch was not exactly a long shot. Her bedmate, Charlie, was relatively submissive. No, make that very obliging. Charlie’s idea of a good time was to lay back and shout out encouragement.

And where did that leave Dani?

Giving her mind leave of absence, Angie kept on unfastening buttons. Dani was three years older and more experienced; if she did anything wrong she’d protest, wouldn’t she?

Not that Dani raised as much as a murmur of protest.

‘Oh yes,’ she breathed as her shirt was peeled off her, ‘omigod yes.’

Angie was seriously impressed by Dani’s chest. Contained in a straining bra, her tits would have won global prizes. So too would the bra designers technicians. Surely great scientists had written formulas about mass and gravity that were currently being defied?

‘Yours,’ Dani gasped. ‘I’ve been staring at your nipples all night. Get them out for me. Get them out for me right now.’

Angie pulled off her T-shirt and tossed it aside, letting her as-always bra-less tits bounce into play.

‘Awesome,’ went Dani. ‘Like really, really.’

‘Get yours out,’ Angie countered.

Dani turned away from her, presenting her with a rear view. ‘Unhook me,’ she said. ‘Unhook me and do as you will.’

Surprised at the dexterity of her trembling fingers, Angie unhooked Dani’s bra and cupped her breasts a lingering moment or two before letting it fall away. Her body by then was close up to the other girl’s. Her groin was pressed onto a shapely bum; her tits were tight up against suddenly sweaty shoulder blades.

Moving Dani’s blonde locks out of the way with her nose, she kissed and nuzzled her lightly tanned neck.

‘I’ll do anything you want,’ she breathed, ‘tell me and it’s yours.’

‘I want you to screw me,’ Dani replied. ‘Throw me on the bed and screw me.’

Her words were music to Angie’s ears. And the sight of the bed didn’t hurt, either. She hadn’t taken a lot of notice of the bedchamber until then. Now, when she finally came to look, she could see that the antique theme was continued and included a four-poster.

As a venue for fucking she couldn’t have imagined a better one.

Still squeezing Dani’s tits and nuzzling the back of her neck, Angie whispered.

‘I’ll screw you forever if you like. Want me to?’

‘Yes . . . yes I do.’

Dexterous again, Angie unfastened Dani’s stretchy jeans.

‘On the bed,’ she commanded. ‘Take them off for me. Do it now.’

Dani complied.

‘My knickers,’ she said throatily, ‘what about them?’

‘Leave them on for now,’ said Angie. ‘I’ll take them off when I’m good and ready.’

While Dani blatantly ogled her, Angie removed her denims and panties, totally in control as she did so. She was a large, skin-headed girl with a man-like body but knew that women liked the sight of her. Her early teenage insecurities had been ditched long ago. Okay, so she was over six feet tall and well-built, but she wasn’t fat and she wasn’t unattractive.

Yes, nowadays Angie was comfortable inside her own skin and liked attention. Hell, she wasn’t even averse to a bit of drooling male attention, was she? Men liked her tits as much as girls did. So long as they looked but didn’t touch she was cool with that.

‘Think of England,’ she said before kissing Dani’s mouth . . . and her eyelids and cheeks and chin.

‘Let me,’ she added, pressing her lips to Dani’s fetchingly swollen nips.

‘Fuck yes,’ Dani wailed. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

Equally excited, Angie gave Dani the full foreplay treatment, focusing a lot on those tits but regularly gravitating upwards to kiss all parts of her face.

‘Yes, yes, yes!’ Dani regularly moaned.

She seemed surprised by the oral attack on her armpits. And the toe-sucking simply blew her mind.

Then, perhaps as long as half an hour into the feast, Angie went for some pussy.

Well, in truth she went for quite a lot of pussy. Nibbling Dani through her soggy panties at first, going on protruding outlines rather than visible targets, she ate her and ate her. Those panties soon weren’t merely soggy, they were saturated.

Chuckling, Angie pulled them off. Underneath Dani was clean-shaven, swollen and quite predictably dripping. Determined to be as thorough as possible, Angie began with her clitoral hood, moving it over and around her actual clit; moving it very, very slowly indeed.

Then, content she’d found the right rhythm, she leant in and used her tongue, spiralling in decreasing circles around the mouth of Dani’s vagina, relishing the taste and her very vocal approval.

Ultimately, with the diameter of her circles next to nothing at all, she took stock. She was not actually penetrating yet, not really, but she was definitely stimulating squillions of nerve endings.

‘Fuck yes,’ Dani howled. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

Deciding that Dani was nearly as ready as she was, Angie pushed with her tongue, sinking in maybe half an inch and locating another squillion or so nerve endings. Meanwhile her fingers carried on their good work, manipulating that hood; slowly, so very, very slowly.

‘Fuck me,’ went Dani. ‘I’m gonna explode.’

Angie’s tongue pressed in another inch or two, G-spot hunting.

Dani exploded.

Showing no mercy whatsoever, Angie continued tonguing and manipulating, seeing Dani through her initial cum and on to another one. Then, safely through number two, she switched tactics.

Dani’s clit was as large as any Angie had ever encountered. By now over-sensitivity wasn’t a problem. Transferring the tip of her tongue to the swollen button, she began spiralling again, decreasing those circles much more swiftly. Simultaneously, she slipped two fingers inside the world’s hottest, readiest vagina.

When it came to fingering two was Angie’s lucky number. Dani seemed to like it as well. In no time at all she was contracting and roaring approval.

‘Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me, yes, yes!!’

After taking Dani’s cum count up to five Angie switched tactics again. Sliding up her juddering, so very grateful body, she got into position: nose to nose; tits to tits; groin to groin.

‘Now I’m going to fuck you,’ she breathed.

‘Oh yes,’ Dani countered. ‘Oh yes, yes please.’

Tribbing was Angie’s specialist subject. She could perform in several ways, from purely pleasing her lover to purely pleasing herself. That time she went for the middle ground, using all of her sex on all of Dani’s and blessing them with a gloriously long string of alternating orgasms. All false modesty aside, she excelled.

‘Fuck yes,’ Dani groaned over and over. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

Their ultimate conclusion was co-ordinated by the female art of verbal communication. It was without doubt mutual and as perfectly synchronized as of a pair of Olympic divers. In fact by then their groins couldn’t have been wetter if they’d plunged into an Olympic diving pool.

It was splash, cum, splash, cum, splash!

‘Bravo,’ a voice cried as Angie’s entire nervous system stopped spontaneously combusting.

‘That was entertaining,’ someone else added, ‘to say the least.’

Billie was framed in the bedroom doorway, naked and grinning. Charlie, just as bare-assed, was there at her side.

‘We brought vino,’ Charlie went on. ‘We decided three hours was too long without a drink.’

‘Three hours,’ Dani gasped. ‘It feels more like three hundred.’

‘Don’t wimp,’ said Billie. ‘We’re not here just to wet your whistles. We’re here to join in.’

Chapter Four

Dani’s bed wasn’t particularly large but, as Saturday morning rolled around, Angie wasn't complaining. Lack of space wasn’t an issue when four girls were getting close and personal, was it?

She chuckled to herself. Even now, as the last person still awake, she was in physical contact with at least two of her bedfellows. Okay, they were lying in a tangle of arms and legs and it was hard to say exactly who was tangled with whom . . .

But the contact was still there: she had a pair of tits in her face and hands on her pussy and tits. From their size and shape she guessed the tits were Dani’s. The hands could be anyone’s.

Talk about being as snug as a bug in a rug!

As a veteran of several threesomes back home, with Liz and Suzanne, Angie now thought foursomes were more exciting. Perhaps it had been because her threes had all been pre-arranged while the four had happened out of nowhere. Perhaps it had been because tonight’s partners were a little older than her sixth form girlfriends.

Or perhaps she was just a horny whore with an unnatural appetite for sex.

Although not much alcohol had been consumed, her memories were blurred after her one-to-one with Dani. Initially they’d paired off, her with Charlie, Billie with Dani; she could remember that all right. And she could remember being on her back beside Billie, kissing her and squeezing on each other’s tits as they were being eaten by their respective partners.

Had they swapped again after that? Or had they gone straight into three-onto-one?

Angie chuckled again. Three-onto-one, how decadent was that! Her on her back again, a pussy in her face while mouths worked on her own pussy and tits. And while knowing hands moved wantonly here, there and everywhere about her person, of course.

‘What’s with all the cackling,’ Dani yawned, moving her chest away.

‘I’m just thinking happy thoughts,’ said Angie. Then, noticing the LED display on a nearby alarm clock: ‘Omigod, is that the time? I have to go. I’ve got a train to catch.’

‘I never had you down as a party pooper,’ Billie put in, yawning in her own right. ‘We’ve got a bed and a weekend before us, haven’t we? Who needs a train?’

‘I’m meeting someone,’ Angie protested, untangling her legs and standing up. ‘Can I use your shower, Dani?’

‘It’s through there.’ The LGBT blonde pointed.

Five minutes later, washed, dried and dressed, Angie stuck her head round the bedroom door to find Charlie still asleep and Billie down on Dani.

‘We definitely have to do it again sometime,’ she said. ‘Let me know when and I’ll make sure I’m free the morning after.’

‘Oh my God, yes,’ Dani replied.

‘Mmmm, mmmm,’ went Billie, quite rudely speaking with her mouth full.

Most places in town seemed to be just ten minutes’ walk from the uni. Dani’s house was more like twenty. Not that Angie minded the walk. The sun was up and the fresh autumnal air was bracing. In fact she was even recovering her sense of recall. Finding something to think about as she went was not a big problem.

Before she knew it she’d reached her hall and was bouncing up four flights of steps, her legs not tired at all by the night’s exertions. Predictably, the door to 443 opened as she neared her own room.

Which Madhu will it be today, Angie wondered, the seductively beckoning version, or the one asking where the hell I’ve been until this ungodly hour?

‘Hiya Angie,’ Madhu said brightly. ‘You timed that well. I’m just off to the showers. You can tag along and scrub my back if you like.’

Fresh out of Dani’s shower or not, Angie wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that. Darting into room 444 she snatched some clean clothes and a towel and hurried after Madhu, finding her sitting on one of the slatted wooden benches, wearing her own towel and reading a magazine somebody had abandoned there.

‘That was quick,’ Madhu said, looking up and smiling, ‘and even better timing. We have got the place to ourselves.’

Angie tried not to goggle when Madhu set off into the white-tiled area. Dressed and smiling, Madhu was the most beautiful girl on the planet. Naked, she was the most beautiful girl in the universe.

Visibly trembling, Angie followed her next-room neighbour past several showerheads and stopped beside her when she chose one in the middle of the line.

‘Do you really want to scrub my back?’ Madhu was smiling again, coquettishly this time.

‘I certainly do,’ said Angie.

‘What about washing my hair first? I think I’d enjoy that.’

Struggling for words, Angie nodded. Madhu had glorious long, straight black hair. It was already wet from the overhead spray; wet but not in the least bit straggly. In fact it looked very sexy indeed.

Yet Angie hesitated. Up until now she had been strangely reluctant to touch Madhu. Madhu had been the one who had done most of the touching.

And washing the girl’s hair! How intimate was that!!

Madhu passed Angie a bottle of peppermint shampoo and smiled again. ‘Go on then,’ she said, ‘do your worst.’

It had been nearly seven years since Angie had had hair of her own to shampoo, and even then it had not been as long as Madhu’s. Guessing at the amounts, she squeezed a measure into her palm and a big dollop directly onto the crown of the girl’s head. Then she gently began to massage it in.

‘That feels great,’ said Madhu.

She arched her back a moment before pushing her body against Angie’s. Angie gulped. She’d shared a bed with Madhu several times, but always platonically. Well, okay, so Madhu hadn’t been nearly as platonic as her. The girl wasn’t as innocent as she seemed; she’d instigated a lot of kissing and some of her touching had been intimate.

Make that very, very intimate. She had made Angie cum more than just once. But Angie had vowed to look out for her. She felt a responsibility for her. Although she had no problem with her own sexuality she did not intend to influence Madhu’s, hence her reluctance.

Influencing a (mostly) pure and innocent girl would be unfair, wouldn’t it?

Here and now, however, under hot spray from two showerheads, soapy water running over them, wet skin moving on wet skin . . .

Somehow ignoring the way their tits were pressing together, Angie carried on massaging that lovely long hair. Except the shampoo had been used; what little was left of it needed rinsing away.

No, it needed rinsing away over and between their bare, wet bodies.

‘Here,’ said Madhu, handing Angie a thick bar of soap. Then, staring into her eyes: ‘I hope you haven’t forgotten what you promised me for this afternoon.’

Angie couldn’t possible have forgotten. “Madhu” apparently translated as “honey”. Madhu’s boyfriend had told her that she tasted of honey, down there; that her name was very, very appropriate.

But men were full of BS, weren’t they? Madhu needed a second, impartial opinion.

‘You haven’t forgotten, have you?’

Angie was rubbing the soap over Madhu’s back, not hurrying and unable to escape from her gaze.

‘I haven’t forgotten,’ she said softly.

In response Madhu cupped her groin, making her gasp. She’d somehow poured herself a handful of shampoo or body-wash and it was cold against Angie’s hotness.

‘I’m really looking forward to it,’ Madhu continued. ‘And I want you to be very thorough, like a scientist taking dozens of samples.

Still rubbing Madhu’s back but aimlessly . . . hopelessly distracted . . . Angie felt fingers on her pussy.

And she climaxed without a second’s thought.

‘Well my goodness,’ a voice cried. ‘Look at that!’

Alarmed, Angie turned her head to see three sweaty girls in fluorescent running kit. She didn’t know their names but recognized them instantly. They were out pounding the streets every morning. In fact they’d once playfully invited her to join them.

She opened her mouth to say she knew what not.

Only to be beaten to it by Madhu.

‘Hi girls,’ she said brightly, ‘come on in, the water’s fine.’

Chapter Five

The railway station was as busy as could be. Leastways the Manchester-bound platform was. As far as Angie could see, the other platform was sparsely populated. And there was no sign over there of her trainspotting friend, Craig. Maybe he’d already been and gone, north-bound on the west coast line. Maybe he’d been there, done that and was currently heading into Yorkshire, jerking off excitedly as he crossed the Ribblehead Viaduct.

Or maybe he was with that guy he’d hooked up with the night they’d first met, playing a different sort of game of trains and tunnels altogether.

‘What are you grinning at?’ Madhu enquired, gripping her arm.

‘Life’s intricacies,’ Angie replied.

‘Nothing to do with sex shops, then?’

‘And your grin’s nothing to do with us being caught in the showers?’

Madhu laughed. ‘They didn’t actually see anything.’

‘So says you. You don’t know what they actually saw any more than I do.’

‘They didn’t join in, did they? Not even though that short-assed one obviously wanted to.’

The arrival of a train saved Angie from answering. Not forty minutes later they were coming out of the station, hand-in-hand and heading for the nearest shops.

‘Here,’ said Madhu, indicating a purple-fronted outlet. ‘You’re after a place like this, aren’t you?’

Angie rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘I’d rather slit my wrists. It’s so tacky! I’m aiming for Ann Summers, not Sleazy Mike’s.’

‘Sleazy Mike looks to have a lot of nice dildos.’ Madhu sniggered. ‘Not that I’d know, of course.’

‘Right,’ said Angie. ‘There’s nothing sleazy about you, is there.’

‘No,’ Madhu trilled, ‘not so you’d notice.’


An hour or so of respectable window-shopping and the duo stumbled across a much more upmarket sex shop. In fact it looked like a brand-new branch of Prada. Better still, there was a coffee shop right across the street.

‘You wait in there,’ said Angie, for once being more forceful than the smaller, oh-so innocent girl of her dreams. ‘I’ll only be five minutes.’

‘All right,’ said Madhu, ‘but don’t forget your promise.’

‘Madhu . . .’

‘Don’t Madhu me. Go get Sarah-Jayne’s present and come back for an espresso. I will try to keep my hands off the waiters while you’re gone.’ Girlish titter: ‘And the waitresses, of course.’

The interior of the swish sex shop was as impressive as the exterior. Two paces through the door and Angie was confronted with racks and racks of sexy lingerie. There were Basques, chemises and dresses. There were corsets, bustiers and bodystockings. And as for costumes . . . policewomen vied with nurses, maids and schoolgirls.

Angie grinned as she looked at some crotchless tights. She’d been visiting her older woman’s house to have sex twice a week for nearly six months. And she had been met at the door by a woman clad in different sexy attire on every visit. Ronnie would be massively into the stuff out here on display. Hell, she’d probably blow a month’s salary in less than an hour.

Come to that, maybe she had been here before. Her drawers and wardrobes must be full of items like these.

‘Can I help you?’

The sales assistant had materialized at Angie’s side. She was tall and attractive with hair so blonde it was almost white. A nametag identified her as Felicity.

‘I’m looking for harnesses,’ said Angie, surprised she wasn’t embarrassed to admit it.

‘Over there.’ Felicity pointed with an immaculately manicured finger. ‘You’ll find a very wide selection of attachments right next to them.’

Ronnie had several harnesses so Angie already had a fair idea what she was looking for. Picking one she knew would work with her wide hips, she turned to examine the attachments and immediately felt her senses overloading.

There were so many! And so many bizarre shapes!!

Reminding herself who this “present” was for, she concentrated on ones which were realistic in shape and size, homing in a dildo which approximated to Sarah-Jayne’s cock. Then, unsure what exactly her transgender friend would prefer, she added a second, smaller version.

Just in case, she told herself. Just in case she’s a little tighter than me.

And then, before she headed for the checkout, something caught her eye . . . something that seemed to be all angles and bulbs.

For some reason red hot pokers sprang to mind, meaning the flower variety, obviously.

‘It’s our latest must-have,’ said Felicity, materializing beside her again.

‘What exactly is it?’

‘It’s a strapless strap-on. Shall I tell you how it works?’

‘Please do.’

‘Let’s assume that you’re the user,’ Felicity began enthusiastically. ‘This end is called the horse.’ She tapped what was unmistakably a dildo, realistically shaped and perhaps eight inches long. ‘You use it on your boyfriend or girlfriend, much like any other strap-on.’

‘Girlfriend,’ said Angie, fascinated, ‘it’ll be a girlfriend.’

‘Good choice,’ said Felicity, grinning at her. ‘Now this shorter end is called the “pony”. That end goes in you.’

‘Won’t it fall out?’

‘Oh no, no it won’t. You will be surprised how retentive your muscles are down there. Once they get a grip on this beautiful bulb they won’t want to let go. And once you feel it moving inside you, you won’t want to let go either. The tiniest touch on the horse end sets off the most incredible reaction.’

‘Have you bought one yourself?’

‘I’ve got two: one which vibrates, one which doesn’t.’

‘And they really do stay in when you’re . . . you’re . . .’

‘Having sex with a girlfriend,’ Felicity said. ‘Yes, they certainly do.’

‘You’re not just saying that to get a sale?’

‘No, I am definitely not. Let me tell you about this added bonus.’ She pointed to the curve between the horse and pony. ‘This is the “saddle” and it has these little ridges, see? They are cleverly designed to stimulate you you-know-where, while you’re pleasing your girlfriend. In other words you get stimulated inside and out, as reward for you efforts.’

‘I’ll take it,’ said Angie.

‘Would you like another colour?’

‘No, I’m in a red sort of a mood today. This one will do fine.’

The assistant walked with Angie to the checkout. ‘My advice is to practice in the privacy of your own home,’ she said in confidential tones. ‘Before you try it on your girlfriend, I mean. Wear it while you’re vacuuming or doing the washing up. Get used to the feel of it. And try pulling a little on the horse while the pony’s in you. I assure you, any movement of the horse will result in the most amazing sensations.’

Angie laughed at that. She had to do washing up but vacuuming!

And with this little beauty up against her tummy!!

Well, all right, in the interests of experimentation . . .

There wasn’t anyone else in the shop but Felicity lowered her voice even further. ‘I really meant what I said about trying it on your own. And the possibilities will blow your mind. You can use the horse as a traditional dildo, obviously. But masturbating like a man is more than amazing. It’s to die for.’

‘Thanks for all your kind help and advice,’ said Angie, wincing as she saw the total on her receipt. She had planned on spending twenty pounds but, due to the extra dildo and the strapless affair, she’d just spent almost sixty.

And there she’d been, classing Ronnie as a spendthrift!

‘Here’s my card,’ said Felicity. ‘Ring me when you’ve formed an opinion. Feedback’s always good to get, isn’t it?’

Angie stowed her purchases in her rarely used backpack and joined Madhu in the coffee shop.

‘Some five minutes!’ Madhu said in greeting ‘I expected a much older woman.’

‘I had important decisions to make.’

‘I bet you did.’ Madhu grinned. ‘Do I get to see what you decided on?’

‘Not a chance. Do I get a cup of espresso?’

‘Yes, but just a quick one. I thought we could call time on shopping. Get the next train back and have lunch in Ye Olde John of Gaunt. And then . . .’

Angie nodded. She knew what was expected “and then” all right.

Chapter Six

Fortified by Yorkshire beer and a good old Lancashire steak pie, Angie talked tactics on the walk back to campus.

‘We need to keep the noise down, so no shouting out. Bite on my shoulder or a pillow or something if you have to. And keep the talking to a murmur.’

‘It’s Saturday afternoon,’ Madhu objected. ‘The place will be noisy enough as it is.’ She laughed. ‘Not that you’d know. You’re hardly ever in your room, are you?’

‘I think we should use my room,’ Angie went on seriously. ‘Being at the end of the corridor I only have you as a neighbour. And you’re not going to complain about the odd moan or groan, are you?’

‘Not likely.’ Madhu laughed again. ‘I think you’re being a drama queen, but your room it is.’

Passing a security officer who was listening to football on a radio, they went up to their floor, past 443 and surreptitiously into 444. And embraced there, embraced lingeringly.

‘I’m so excited,’ said Madhu. ‘Here, feel my heart.’

Angie’s own heart raced as her friend drew her hand onto her chest.

Meaning she drew it onto her chest, under her left tit . . . and near enough to feel the soft swell.

‘Mine’s just as bad,’ she gasped.

‘Is this where we slowly and seductively strip for each other?’

‘I suppose it is.’ Angie held up a restraining hand. ‘But first things first: if at any time you want to stop, tell me. Tell me straightaway.’

‘What makes you think I might want to stop?’

‘I’m your first girl, right?’

‘Yes, that’s right. But trust me; I will not want to stop.’

So saying, Madhu removed her T-shirt.

Angie followed suit.

Madhu then removed her bra.

Angie didn’t do bras so she took off her Docs and socks, trying to be slow and seductive about it and probably failing miserably.

Madhu kicked off her trainers and unfastened her Wranglers.

Angie was as per always in thrall of the sight of Madhu’s body. Her eyes stayed fixed on her while she rather hastily took off her own jeans.

‘Shall we take our knickers off simultaneously?’ Madhu suggested saucily.

‘You take mine off,’ Angie said gamely, ‘I’ll take off yours.’

The (supposedly) innocent young thing was up for that. She tenderly stroked the front of Angie’s legs as she inched down the fabric, sending thrills right through her.

Then, suddenly, they were both naked and Madhu was on her back on the bed. Her brown eyes were enormous and incredibly appealing. Her chest was heaving and her lovely brown tits were moving in a most intriguing way.

‘Remember,’ she murmured, ‘take dozens of samples. No, take hundreds of samples.’

Because it was at the end of a corridor, Angie’s room had two windows. Because it was on the fourth floor she hadn’t drawn the curtains. Or maybe the idea of drawing the curtains never occurred to her. Whatever, it was a sunny afternoon and visibility was perfect.

And Madhu was perfect.

Angie moved onto the bed and had her first really close look at the girl’s pussy. It was clean-shaven and just as beautiful as the rest of her. It was also noticeably wet . . . already.

Not that Angie had any room to talk about wetness.

Not when she’d been gushing back in the pub. Or perhaps back on the train . . . or maybe ever since she’d agreed to go shopping in the first place.

The word “new” kept bouncing about in her head. This was going to be a completely new experience as far as Madhu was concerned, full stop. And it was going to be new for Angie too: new tastes, new sensations and a whole heap of new reactions.

Yes, the word “new” had a lot going for it.

There was a trickle of juice coming from Madhu’s vagina. With the utmost delicacy, Angie lapped at it.

Omigod, she thought, she really does taste sweet!

There were dozens more samples to take, though . . . no, not dozens, hundreds.

Happy in her work, Angie got on with the job.


Madhu asked during their first timeout, perhaps ninety minutes after Angie had started licking.

‘Yes you do,’ Angie assured her. ‘We could open a honey shop.’

‘There already is a honey shop in the market,’ said Madhu, giggling.

‘I bet their product’s not as good as yours.’

‘Do I get to sample your honey, like an inquisitive bumble bee?’ Madhu giggled again, clearly regret-free. ‘If we’re going into partnership we’ll need an alternate supplier, wont we; in case of interruptions to normal service.’

‘You know about me and relationships,’ said Angie, cautiously.

‘Of course I do. It was your attitude to relationships that attracted me in the first place. Well, amongst other attractions it was.’

‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to.’

‘I don’t have to what?’

‘Taste me; I’m cool if it’s too much.’

‘Oh I want to taste you all right. Can I?’

Angie nodded and Madhu immediately set about her, paying predictable attention to her tits before easing herself downwards.

The feel of her mouth on Angie’s pussy was beyond belief. She was, Angie was sure, inexperienced at eating a girl. Yet, in an odd way, she wasn’t. Perhaps instinctively, Madhu knew her way around a woman’s sex. She’d admitted to one pre-university boyfriend; maybe he’d been particularly good and she was copying him.

Or maybe there had been other boyfriends hidden away in her past.

Angie didn’t waste much time speculating. She was too busy cumming. Already! It was impossible not to. Never mind the physical provocation, the combination was irresistible: innocence and inexperience counterbalanced with knowledge and lust.

And everything between them was new; everything between them was so very, very new.


Somehow their second afternoon session developed into a sixty-nine sexathon, with Madhu going on top. By then she had become extremely proficient with her fingers, lips and tongue. She didn’t need a learning curve for the old soixante-neuf, though. No, she’d evidently done that somewhere before.

One previous boyfriend, thought Angie, yeah, as if!

‘Okay,’ said Madhu, partway into timeout number two, ‘now do I get to see what you bought?’

‘My purchases will shock and disgust you, so no, you don’t.’

‘I don’t shock easily and I’m sexually adventurous. Go on, let me see.’

‘Madhu . . .’

‘Pretty please Angie. I’m sexually curious as well as adventurous. And I’m itching to see.’

Angie couldn’t think of a valid reason to deny her so got up and fetched her backpack. ‘Here’ she said as she passed over the harness.

‘It’s for strap-on sex.’ Madhu sounded delighted. ‘And it’s for Sarah-Jayne, yes?’

‘Yes, you know it is.’

‘Who’s going to use it?’

‘I’m going to use it on her. She doesn’t need a strap-on. She’s naturally fully-loaded.’

‘Okay,’ Madhu said slowly, ‘so what goes with it?’

‘This does.’ Angie passed over the smaller dildo then, after a pause, the larger one.

‘Wow,’ said Madhu. ‘That’ll keep her smiling.’

Angie said nothing.

‘And this is exclusively for Sarah-Jayne?’ Madhu added, raising her lovely black eyebrows.

‘Yes, it is.’

‘I suppose it would be unfair to try out her present before she gets her hands on it.’

‘Yes Madhu, it would.’

‘That’s a pity. I would if you would.’

‘Girl, I’m beginning to think you’d try anything.’

‘Well you don’t know until you’ve tried, do you?’ Madhu chuckled. ‘Do you have any other toys; ones that aren’t destined for one special lover?’

‘No.’ Angie hesitated before producing the strapless affair. ‘Well, there is this one, but I haven’t used it yet. I need to practice alone.’

Madhu was mystified by the item so Angie ran her through Felicity’s sales spiel.

‘You can use it to masturbate like a man,’ she marvelled. ‘That sounds incredible.’

‘Apparently it’s to die for,’ Angie confirmed.

‘And you have to wear it to get used to the feel.’ Madhu’s grin was infectious. ‘Go on then, Angie,’ she said. ‘Put it on.’

Chapter Seven

Angie’s reluctance didn’t have half the strength of Madhu’s oh-so appealing eyes. After a brief, less-than successful protest, she gave in. Then, emotions torn, she gently put the pony-end into her vagina . . . and almost screamed.

The feeling of fullness was extra-terrestrial. So too was the realization that the toy was almost alive: in her, filling her and almost alive.

Felicity’s words were perhaps the only clear messages left flitting through her brain.

The tiniest touch on the horse end sets off the most incredible reaction.

And it was true. No, truer than true. Even without touching the horse she could tell that the other end would perform miracles for her.

That was why so many girls were into ponies!

‘Omigod,’ she breathed. ‘I just died and went to heaven.’

‘Do the male masturbation bit,’ said Madhu. ‘I won’t tell. And I can’t say how much I want to watch.’

For about five seconds Angie considered their situation. They were on a narrow, single bed and she’d stuck an exotic sex toy inside herself. Madhu was an (almost) girly-girl virgin and straining at the leash to see her abuse herself.

So what was she waiting for?

Keeping intimate eye contact with Madhu, Angie moved her hand on the horse. In her imagination her hand was moving on a man’s cock . . . or maybe on Sarah-Jayne’s.

No, in her imagination it was Madhu’s hand, moving on her cock.

In her imagination she really did have had a cock.

And better by far, the most beautiful girl in the universe was tossing her off.

Needless to report, Angie didn’t know what a man experienced when he jerked. She knew what a girl experienced when she jilled, though. And she knew that wasn’t anything like the experience she felt right now.

This was incredible, titanic . . . better than best. She moaned as her hand gradually accelerated of its own accord. Faster and faster, it went.

Was this what a guy felt like? Was she feeling new sensations that might be mannish? Or was it just a new sort of womanly sensation?

‘Oh my,’ said Madhu,’ you seem so into it.’

Angie came.

‘Do it again,’ Madhu prompted.

So Angie did.

Then, eyes dancing wilder than ever, Madhu leant close.

‘Let me,’ she breathed. ‘Please Angie, let me.’


Madhu’s blow job was exquisite. It produced a whole host of new sensations. Sometimes she used a hand as well as her mouth, other times she used only her tongue . . . or only her lips. Angie blanked her mind and focused on feel.

Good decision! The more Madhu did, the less Angie reckoned she’d had merely one boyfriend.

In fact she must have had swarms to be as skilful as that.

Or was it the sex toy, amplifying everything?

Angie neither knew nor cared. Whenever Madhu moved the horse by even a millimetre it resulted in the pony brushing her G-spot . . . and in the most delightful way.

Felicity had been right: the experience was to die for.

And if an orgasm was “the little death” she must have died a zillion times.

‘Stick me with it,’ Madhu said eventually. ‘Come on, you know you can keep it in. And you know that you want to. Make me happy.’

‘Madhu . . .’

‘Don’t dither, just do it.’

No way could Angie refuse. ‘Any time you want to stop, tell me,’ she said, recalling her earlier advice.

‘I won’t want to stop,’ Madhu countered. ‘Stick me with it.’

She was on her back again, legs open and wetter than ever. Angie eased herself aboard, supporting her weight on her elbows. Madhu was correct: she could keep the toy in place and yes, she really, really wanted to.

Madhu’s hand took hold of the horse, rubbing it along her slit, causing yet another flurry of new sensations deep inside Angie. Angie had intended to enter her slowly, to stimulate those squillions of nerve endings up at the mouth of her vagina, but Madhu had other ideas. Steering Angie with a not-so-innocent hand, she achieved entry then thrust up at her powerfully.

Suddenly Angie was all the way in and their groins were touching. Her body began to move and her new lover moved with it, falling immediately in step.

Omigod, wasn’t that something else! Madhu’s timing was excellent; she matched every withdrawal and thrust perfectly. The room was filled with the liquid sounds of sex and wet groins clapping as they met . . . again and again and again.

And the latest new sensations! The pony was working its magic within and those ridges on the saddle had come into play without. Angie came virtually at once but didn’t miss a stroke.

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Madhu cried.

At first she’d dug her feet into the mattress, adding power to her counterthrusts. Now she wrapped her legs around Angie and gripped her as if she’d never let go. And still she matched Angie’s movements to perfection.

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ she yelled . . . and came twice in quick succession.

The expression on Madhu’s face set Angie off again. Then she withdrew altogether.

‘Get on all fours,’ she said.

Madhu complied and, kneeling behind her, Angie slid her horse up and down the cleft between her sexy buns. She could see Madhu’s puckered anus but wasn’t tempted. Well, not much. Pretending she’d forgotten about the free lube Felicity had given her, she aimed again for some pussy.

Direct hit! This time she did go in in increments. This time she did tease nerve endings. And she also teased herself. Bizarrely, those raised ridges were now more noticeable than the pony. Her engorged “you-know-where” was buzzing. It felt as if fifty thousand volts were flowing through it.

Maybe it was the new angle but the horse seemed to sink in even deeper this way. Angie resumed, using the same rhythm as before. Madhu responded by moving her lower body in time, bucking back to meet her, still matching her to perfection.

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Madhu yelled.

They came together after maybe five minutes, and again perhaps a minute later. Then, after at least half an hour, Madhu erupted quite spectacularly.

‘My turn,’ she gasped. ‘Pretty please, Angie. Let it be my turn.’

Chapter Eight

Angie was a firm believer in equality, particularly amongst females. She could have cheerfully fucked Madhu forever but, once asked to change roles, she was obliged to say yes.

And it was fun to watch Madhu pressing the pony into herself and almost howling with pleasure.

‘Go for it girl,’ she said. ‘Masturbate for me, and then I’ll suck you.’

So that’s what happened. Following the same routine as Angie’s, Madhu jerked herself off twice. Then Angie took over, using fingers, mouth, lips and tongue, going at her for ages, making her die a zillion tiny deaths.

Being fucked by Madhu was great, too. And it felt somehow different to anything before it. Maybe that was because Angie knew what her lover was experiencing. Maybe that knowledge was bonding them, making the act extra-special.

Maybe they weren’t fucking; maybe they were soppily making love!

‘Get on all fours,’ Madhu finally commanded.

Before Angie could comply there was a sharp rap on the door.

‘Crap,’ she muttered, ‘it’s the Gestapo.’

She put a finger to her lips, warning Madhu to keep silent. Madhu nodded and said nothing.

More knocks on the door. Whoever it was wasn’t just going to go away. Angie got off the bed, looking for something to wear. She didn’t do dressing gowns or nighties so that meant jeans and a T. But that annoying knocking was getting louder and more frequent.

And her clothes were scattered hither and thither.

Cursing under her breath, she unlocked the door, opening it an inch or two and using it to screen her naked ass.

Putting her head in the gap, she said, ‘What?’

Her visitor wasn’t the Gestapo after all; it was Helen from 445, across the corridor.

‘You’re making a heck of a noise,’ Helen said, grinning, ‘sounds like you’re having fun.’

Double crap! Angie had forgotten all about keeping the noise down. She’d probably been even more rowdy than Madhu.

‘It’s my TV,’ she ad-libbed.

‘Is it bollocks,’ Helen replied.

Even with only one ear in the corridor Angie could hear the everyday sounds of the hall: slamming of doors; loud pop music; another football commentary . . . Manchester United scoring a fifth goal . . .

‘I’m surprised you can hear anything over all that,’ she said, trying to smile. ‘But don’t call the cops; I’ll turn it off, never mind down.’

Helen wasn’t so easily got rid of. She pushed at the door. ‘Let me see what you’re watching. I’ll bet it’s a blue movie.’

Angie probably outweighed Helen by three stones and was much stronger. But the door felt sharp on her bare toes and she shifted back a fraction. Quick as a flash, Helen was in the room.

‘Oh my,’ she said, staring at Madhu.

Madhu was still on her knees on the bed. The horse stood proudly out of her, pointing up and beyond her tummy button.

‘Hello Helen,’ she said coyly, ‘fancy seeing you here.’

Helen shut the door with her behind and looked from Madhu to Angie and back.

‘So you were having fun,’ she said, ‘lots and lots of fun. The shy little mouse fucking the big fearsome Amazonian; that’s a bit of a turn-up, isn’t it?’

‘What happens now?’ Angie glared at the intruder. ‘Are you going to snitch?’

‘Not me,’ Helen laughed. ‘I’m into fucking in all its forms.’

Angie supposed that was true. She must have seen Helen out and about with at least three different guys over the last week or so. And she’d seen her arriving home “the morning after” a couple of times as well.

‘Okay, she said, trying not to sound reluctant, ‘thanks for being open-minded. We really will turn down the volume.’

‘Open-minded,’ Helen echoed. ‘Yep, that’s me all right.’

She was unfastening her blouse as she spoke.

Angie and Madhu exchanged glances. Angie hadn’t picked up any signals from Helen until now.

‘I’m aroused,’ said Helen, down to her jeans and bra. ‘I think we should all be open-minded together. And I think we should start by seeing what Madhu can do for me with her toy.’

Angie was scandalized. ‘Madhu’s innocent,’ she objected.

Helen laughed. ‘She doesn’t look very fucking innocent. She looks hotter than Sharon Stone.’

There was truth in that but Angie felt the urge to protect the girl. Hell, she’d vowed to look out for her.

‘Madhu,’ she said, ‘maybe it’s time to go back to your room. I’ll come to some . . . some arrangement with Helen.’

Helen’s bra was off by then. She was unfastening her jeans.

And Madhu was licking her lips as she watched her.

‘Don’t worry about me, Angie,’ she said. ‘I’ll come to an arrangement too. Besides,’ she added with a wide grin, ‘I won’t know what I can do for Helen until I’ve tried, will I?’


Author’s Note: Thank you for reading Angie’s continuing adventures.

More of her university exploits will follow very soon in “Ruby Tuesday”. Hmmm, whatever will that be about!


Other books by LimeyLady

Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 01

Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 02

Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 03

Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 04

Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 05

Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 06

Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 07

New Beginnings

New Beginnings Advance

New Beginnings Falter

New Beginnings Revive

New Beginnings Conclude

Dangerous Dealings

No Holds Barred in London

No Holds Barred in Belfast

No Holds Barred in Boston

No Holds Barred in Munich

Two Sides to Every Story

Unconsecrated Ground

Heather Falls in Love Part One

Heather Falls in Love Part Two

Heather Falls in Love Part Three

Sammy Jo Has a Big Night Out

Sammy Jo Has Another Big Night Out

Sammy Jo Tries Team Building

Heather’s Hectic Weekend Part One

Heather’s Hectic Weekend Part Two

Heather’s Hectic Weekend Part Three

Heather’s Hectic Weekend Part Four


Davina Again

Davina Does Christmas

Davina Does Easter

Davina Does Older Women

Davina Does Scotland

Best Served Cold

Bedding the Boss

Daddy’s Girl

Short and Sweet

Re-Bedding the Boss

Angie Baby

Art For Art’s Sake

Another One Bites the Dust

Three Times a Lady

Since You’ve Been Gone

Tonight’s the Night

Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-51 show above.)