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By LimeyLady

Copyright Mark C Woolridge (writing as LimeyLady), 2018

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 - Spilled emotions

Chapter Two - Hugging

Chapter Three - A sweet loss of virginity

Chapter Four - Plotting

Chapter Five - The most cunning of cunning plans

Author’s Note

Other Books by LimeyLady

Chapter One

Up until her final year at uni, Edith had given everyone the impression her emotional system had been cryogenically frozen. She’d never even once been on a date or shown the slightest indication of being drawn toward a fellow human being. Not sexually drawn, anyway. The idea of her ever having a “love problem” was, quite frankly, absurd. But, early into her final autumn term as an undergraduate, she at last proved she had feelings after all.

Yes, they came flooding out one evening in the Union Bar, big style.

Heather was sitting alone in a quiet corner, drinking Marston’s and trying to make sense out of a thick Econometrics textbook when her friend arrived at her table, bearing two new pints. Edith’s always fretful expression was more intense than usual. She obviously had something on her mind and, over the course of several more beers, Heather got chapter and verse . . . slowly, and very, very painfully.

Good grief, getting confessions out of her was like pulling hens’ teeth. Her version of “flooding out” was not a fast one!

After Mary Rose, Edith was easily the cleverest person Heather knew. She was a research chemist (“Great with Stinks” as Mare would have put it) and had become a bit of a star among her peers. She was already inundated with offers to keep on researching when she graduated, no doubt summa cum laude. While not as naturally intelligent as Heather’s old school chum, Edith had the gift of only ever needing to hear things once. Her comprehension and retention were first class. So too was her work ethic: she could always be found slogging away in her lab for minimally twelve hours every day, seven days every week. The combination of effort and ability was awesome.

That night Edith was uncharacteristically low. Being Edith, however, she didn’t just sit down and spill out her heart. That would have been too much like admitting she had one or two unscientific bones in her body. Instead she babbled on about her latest project, probably not realizing how much the frown lines in her forehead were etching themselves more deeply in place.

Heather wasn’t fooled by the babbling but let her go on a while, aware that whatever it was had to be serious. Anything that got Edith out of her lab so early had to be terribly serious. It was best to let her get to it in her own good time.

It can’t be work, Heather thought. She knows more than her tutors. And it can’t be her extensive and exciting social life, because she doesn’t have one. It must be bad news from home.

Except Edith did have a social life . . . almost. Her one social concession was to go to the chess club with Doug once a week. And the two of them had occasionally been spotted in the refectory, together at the same table, eating healthy meals and talking science.

Everyone except the star researcher herself knew she was besotted with her fellow researcher. Even without any of the usual tell-tale signs it was apparent in the way she said his name . . . and, come to that, the frequency with which she said his name.

Doug was nearly as smart as Edith and just as dedicated. On paper they were made for each other; they shared academic interests that baffled ninety-nine point nine per cent of humanity. But in reality they hadn’t got beyond the just-good-friends stage. It was as if they were both terminally shy. Heather couldn’t understand such reservation between two such intelligent people. Even so, she found the ongoing “will-we-won’t-we” rather cute. It was like watching that old coffee ad . . . only in super-slow motion.

‘What is it, Ede?’ she asked eventually. ‘What’s upset you?’

‘It’s nothing, nothing at all.’

Heather took the other girl’s hand and squeezed it gently. ‘Please tell me,’ she said.

‘It’s nothing really; just something silly.’

‘Ede, tell me, for goodness’ sake!’

That was all it finally took.

It’s official.’ Edith avoided her eye as she spoke. ‘Doug doesn’t care for me one little bit.’

‘Nonsense, he does so care. I’ve seen you together. It’s written all over his face.’

‘It isn’t written all over this though,’ Edith said, bursting into tears.

Heather quickly understood what had happened. Her friend had received a “stray” email that included a sequence of replies she’d never been meant to see. From the paper copy (printed off at the cost of half a rainforest) it was evident that Doug had got involved in an ongoing exchange; the sort that moved from coursework to sex, then back to coursework.

And that one of his idiot mates had then forgotten about the sex and widened the distribution list.


The sex talk wasn’t in any way extreme. Heather thought it shouldn’t really upset anyone named in it, even if it did seem to implicate everyone who’d ever used a Bunsen burner. Not to mention a fair few who had never set foot in a lab. She was even featured in there herself, which she found odd. She didn’t often sleep with scientists of any gender. Sports scientists were a completely different matter, naturally, but out-and-out scientists . . .

Anyway, she wasn’t bothered personally once she’d seen her two guys gave glowing references. The only thing that did concern her was an exchange towards the end.

Geordie: “Come on Doug. Confess. Wots Edith like under that baggy sweatshirt?”

Doug: “How should I know?”

Geordie: “Mate, if you don’t know, nobody does!!!”

Doug: “Then nobody ever will!!!!!!!!”

Heather put her arm around Edith, who was sobbing quietly. ‘Blokes,’ she said. ‘They’re so insincere. He’s just said that because he thinks it’s what his cronies expect to hear.’

‘His cronies sound sincere enough about you.’ Edith’s eyes brimmed again. ‘You’re “fantastic” and “mega” while I’m just a skinny virgin who nobody will ever touch. I’ll probably stay hidden under my baggy sweatshirt forever.’

‘Ede, listen to me. You’re lovely and slim, not skinny.’

‘But I’m still an untouchable virgin. Nobody’s ever going to give me a perfect ten.’ Edith managed a weepy, snotty sort of laugh. ‘In fact nobody’s ever going to give me one, full stop. Never mind score me for it.’

That was when Heather decided to get involved. Intellectually Edith was a giant; emotionally she was more like a midget. In Heather’s considered opinion it all came down to self-image, and there really was no reason for her friend to sell herself so short. While not absolutely striking, she was tall and pretty and would undoubtedly scrub up well.

If she ever got her nose out of her test-tubes, that was.

‘I’ve got a three-litre box of Merlot at home,’ Heather said. ‘You are coming to help me drink it. Then I am going to hug you until you say you’re happy again. Is that a deal?’

‘I don’t think I’ll ever be happy again,’ Edith replied with a pale smile.

‘Then I’m going to be hugging you a long time, aren’t I? Come on girl, grab your coat.’

Chapter Two

For once reticent with the vino, Heather dragged out her first couple of glasses of red. Without saying so out loud, she wanted to let the effects of several pints of beer leave their systems. Confident they’d peed as much as they needed, she then made her move.

‘Okay,’ she said, snuggling closer to Edith on the leather settee, ‘this is where the serious hugging begins.’

Edith stared back at her, almost blankly. It was impossible to judge her mood or expectations.

She’s here of her own accord, Heather thought; she’s fully aware “hugging” is on the agenda. And she knows as much about my sexuality as everyone else . . .

‘I am of course using the word “hugging” loosely,’ she continued. ‘But I’m really serious about making you happy.’

‘Hmmm,’ went Edith.

‘Just relax,’ said Heather, undeterred by her friend’s lack of enthusiasm. ‘Think of it as an experiment. Remove every last emotion and concentrate purely on sensation.’

‘Sensation,’ the so-practical chemist echoed.

‘That’s right. We’re about to experiment together, and it’s essential you don’t go into it harbouring any preconceptions. Don’t you Stinks persons wipe your brains before applying strips of litmus paper onto your solutions? Or whatever it is you apply instead nowadays.’

‘I’ve always preferred Universal Indicator.’ Edith’s laugh was uncharacteristically nervous. ‘But yes, I suppose I could brainwash myself.’

‘Good,’ said Heather, and then kissed her.


Edith had, naturally, been aware of her friend’s larger than life reputation. Heather was miles beyond drop-dead-gorgeous and could sleep with just about anybody on the campus at whim: male, female or transgender. Everyone fancied Heather, even straight girls. It was impossible not to fancy her and she sent out sleep-with-me signals without even trying.

Like she was doing right now!

When it came to her own sexuality Edith was undecided. She wasn’t by any means a biologist but, as a dyed-in-the-wool, hard-core scientist, she accepted that gender only really mattered when reproduction was concerned. Sex could be had same-gender, couldn’t it? And, virgin that she was, she was well aware that sexual attraction could be indiscriminate.

In other words, she was quite capable of being visually attracted to females as well as males.

Come to that, if she dismissed illogical, irrational and possibly institutionalized preconceptions, didn’t she really believe that girls were infinitely more attractive than men?

So how should she to react to the proposed “experiment”? How when merely being there on the sofa with Heather had set her pulse off racing faster than Michael Schumacher?

“I’m well on the lezzie side of bi,” Heather would tell anyone who would listen.

And she had the track record to prove it. Ninety-five per cent of the males at uni must have tried it on with her; their success rate wasn’t high. Unlike the vast number of females who’d tried, with a (rumoured) win-rate better than Manchester United’s.

I’m here of my own free will, Edith reminded herself, I came here expecting wine and hugs. And I am perfectly able to switch off my emotions and experiment.

Consequently she accepted Heather’s kiss and, rather than analysing the girl-on-girl aspect, analysed the pure physical reactions.

Heather was, she quickly decided, playing it cool and going easy on her. As an innocent in the hands of a woman of the world, Edith appreciated the consideration. She also appreciated the fact that she was with a real-life human being; a beautiful person who seemed to genuinely like her; a person who was also prepared to show her real-life physical affection.

Remembering her instructions, Edith concentrated purely on sensation, finding it surprisingly easy to do so. And goodness gracious, kissing was nice! No, it was better than just nice, it was fabulous. The rush of sensations inside her was just as good as the one she could make herself feel when alone in her bed.

Oh yes! Nice, nice, nice! And from no more than a kiss!! What on earth would she feel like if matters progressed!!!

Suddenly Edith desperately wanted matters to progress. And she could be a very determined lady if the situation dictated. As an added extra, she was also an expert at applying catalysts. Going on out-and-out instinct, she upped the tempo. Heather seamlessly went with her. Overcome by her own daring, Edith pushed her tongue into a warm, receptive mouth . . .

No, into her lover’s mouth!!!

It was sheer joy. When Heather took her hand and drew in into an intimate position, she didn’t resist. No, she simply kept on kissing and experimenting.


Heather hadn’t had such fun in ages. Proving to Edith that she was sexually attractive wasn’t a hardship. Hell, it wasn’t even untrue. Edith was very attractive . . . very, very, attractive; she just went out of her way to disguise the fact. And her being a virgin didn’t hurt.

Not that Heather was some kind of perv. Okay, she could be as degenerate as heck with an equally experienced partner, but she would never push boundaries with the likes of Ede.

Ede was a lovely person.

Ede deserved loving, not simply shagging.

Most of all, Ede needed a little friendly bigging-up.

Their first kiss was a long one, as well as particularly sweet. Keeping it going, Heather did her best to control her savage beast within. That alter ego of hers, “Hurricane Heather” could do extreme things at the drop of a hat. The last thing she wanted was to frighten Edith off sex forever.

Especially not when they’d come this far.

Breaking off at last, Heather softly kissed Edith’s strong, straight nose awhile. Then she kissed her on her naturally arched eyebrows. Then, when Ede instinctively shut her eyes, she kissed her closed lids.

‘You are so, so, sexy,’ she purred.

‘Oh my God,’ Edith gasped.

‘Squeeze,’ Heather prompted. Then, laughing, ‘not my shoulder, silly! Squeeze with your other hand!!’

When her virgin lover did as commanded and compressed her breast, she squealed and chuckled.

‘You just made me cum, Ede,’ she said (more or less truthfully). ‘Let me return the favour.’

‘Cum,’ echoed Edith, seemingly astounded.

‘You bet you did. Now let me return the favour. Let’s see if I can do it for you.’

‘As a scientific experiment, you mean?’

‘Yeah, let’s not deny the Great God Science.’

It was Edith’s turn to laugh. ‘My emotions are on hold . . . I think. I guess I’m ready to concentrate on whatever physical sensations you care to inflict.’


Edith couldn’t believe that her ears could be so re-active. Heather had only nibbled her lobes and licked behind them, and . . .

Well, it had been erotic beyond belief.

Still keeping her eyes clamped shut, Edith lay back on the settee and enjoyed the feel of the tip of Heather’s tongue as it traced a line down her neck. She gasped as her lover shifted sides and kissed her way back up to her other ear.

Her lover!!!

Innocent virgin that she was, Edith realized she was being loved, not fucked.

And she loved being loved. Sharing sex was a million times better than doing it DIY. No, it was more like a zillion times better!

Surprising her, Heather suddenly desisted. ‘This is a two-way experience,’ she said. Then, smiling as she deftly and cross-handed removed her T-shirt, she thrust her boobs into Edith’s face.

‘Just do whatever feels right,’ she instructed.

Edith gasped again. Along with most of the rest of the university, she had admired Heather’s breasts for some considerable time. She’d also regretted her own lack of athleticism. Some more sporty girls had told her that Hev’s changing room antics were worth witnessing. Apparently she was always first to strip off and last to kit up. And first in, last out of the showers . . .

Allegedly dozens of girls had applied to join her football team, just to share a changing room with her.

Heather had what seemed to be a natural tan. It would have been easy to suppose she’d had a dash of African blood in her ancestry at some stage but, rather disappointingly, her family tree went back over six generations of Yorkshire farmers, all of them as white as the county’s rose.

Never mind her superb skin tone, Edith thought, get a load of those tits!

And wasn’t the girl doubly-blessed? Heather had large, round breasts but they were firm and virtually self-supporting. Apparently she could play sports without needing to wear one of those ridiculous bras that resembled chastity belts. Apparently she could even control a high ball on her chest with the skill of a Gascoigne or Best . . .

Edith did her utmost not to stare . . . and failed miserably.

Her own tits were perhaps a little larger than Hev’s but not nearly so firm. She tended to leave them to their own devices. Because nobody had ever shown any interest in her, she didn’t know much about them as sexual organs. All she knew was that, if she ever tried to trap a football like that, it would squash them flatter than pancakes.

Although Heather’s were a sight for sore eyes it wasn’t their size, shape and solidity that immediately drew Edith’s attention. Oh no, it was the bits that came with them.

Yes, yes, yes, she thought. Oh yes, yes, yes!

Heather’s nipples were enormous and, currently positioned maybe six inches from Edith’s face, she could see they were hard and erect. Astounding as that spectacle was, Edith’s attention was centred the girl’s areolae: they were two inches across and the colour of the darkest plain chocolate.

Unable to stay herself, she ran her tongue over Hev’s right boob. And somehow she managed to do it slowly, only briefly flicking the nipple, favouring the actual breast more than the obvious target.

‘Good grief, yes,’ Heather sighed.

Encouraged, Edith put her tongue more fully to work, concentrating a while on the undersides of those oh so wonderful tits, only occasionally straying up onto her teats.

And goodness gracious, her nipples were getting even bigger and harder! How could that possibly be!

Chapter Three

Only too evidently an admirer of Edith’s enthusiasm, Heather finally dragged her mouth away from her boobs.

‘My turn,’ she said officiously. ‘It’s a two-way experience, remember?’

Edith obligingly lay back against the arm of the settee, reckoning that was what was expected of such a comely virgin.

Not that she really considered herself to be a comely virgin. She was a skinny scientific freak who had no hope of ever getting laid. There was more chance of DNA technology reincarnating the dinosaurs than anyone wanting sex with her. Heather deserved a medal for going as far as she already had. She hoped she’d get a bit of tit-play but was sure that would be that. Then they would be back to the box of Merlot, sipping a few more glasses and sharing a lot of embarrassing silences.

Or would they?

Adroitly pulling off Edith’s baggy sweatshirt and removing her bra, Heather cooed appreciation. ‘Nice, nice, nice,’ she said.

Then she went to work on Ede’s breasts, pretty much replicating the attention she’d been paid herself. And pretty much bringing Edith off, if the truth be told. Hadn’t she just told herself she didn’t know much about her tits as sexual organs?

Well she did now!

Eventually, following what to Edith felt suspiciously like three orgasms, Heather desisted and eased herself up her body. The smooth feeling of their hot, sweaty boobs rubbing together more than made up for the lack of nibbles and licks; it was no less than exquisite.

Yes, yes, yes!

When Heather kissed her mouth again Edith opened up and avidly sucked on the invading tongue.

Tonight’s been brilliant, she thought, convinced the physical part was over and done with.

But Hev was kissing her neck again, going down one side, taking a shortcut along her collarbone and going back up the other side. Resolutely concentrating on sensations, Edith did not object when strong fingers gripped her wrist and pulled her arm up straight, like a primary school-kid doing her best to attract teacher’s attention.

The touch of tongue tip on her armpit thrilled her beyond belief. How could Hev do such a thing! Okay, so she did shave her pits, but not regularly. There had to be half an inch of bristle there. And it’d been hours since she last sprayed on deodorant . . .

Heather didn’t seem to mind the bristles. She gave Edith’s pit a thorough licking before changing arms and repeating herself.

Then she headed south.

Edith sighed as that adventurous tongue darted hither and thither, checking out her curves before at last arriving at the top of her jeans, drawing a horizontal line over the soft skin of her tummy. This, she was sure as sure could be, was the end of the road.

Maybe it was just as well. She had nothing to offer but her virginity and Hev had gone way beyond the extra mile long ago. She was also unsure how she would react if the experiment did go much further. Last thing she wanted to do was seem foolish by overreacting.

Before she could suggest more wine Hev’s deft fingers were unbuckling her belt.

So much for the extra mile! They were going farther after all!!

‘Oh my God,’ Edith gasped as fresh excitement washed through her. ‘Oh my God, yes, yes, yes.’


Heather had been having fun earlier but by now she was in her element. She was also (somehow!) still keeping her alter ego under control. She popped the brass button on Edith’s Levi’s and tugged down her zip.

‘Lift your bum,’ she said, masterfully.

Edith obeyed and had her denims tugged most way off in an instant. Sliding off the settee, onto her knees, Heather quickly unfastened Ede’s trainers and tossed them aside. Two seconds later the jeans were gone altogether, taking a pair of short white ankle socks with them. Ede was now naked apart from surprisingly sexy panties.

Heather grinned inwardly. Edith’s bra had been, to say the least, unflattering. Those panties were, in contrast, frilly, pretty and pink. The reinforced part at the front was noticeably damp, too. To her mind that only made them sexier.

The temptation to give Edith what she so obviously wanted was immense. Overcoming it, Heather set to work on her legs instead: thighs first, kissing and licking fronts, backs, insides and outs. She took care to kiss Ede’s kneecaps too (for no reason other than they were there) before starting on her calves.

Edith’s legs were, she noted, hair-free. She must have recently shaved (or, more probably, waxed) to get them so smooth. And she had good, clear skin. All right, so it was creamy-pale, but it wouldn’t see a lot of sun in the lab, would it?

Deciding that she liked the look of pale skin against her own deep tan she glanced up Edith’s body. Ede looked blissful; there was no other word to describe her expression. All the worry lines had gone out of her face. She had plainly succeeded in subduing her emotions.

Heather kissed her ankles. Then she took Edith’s right foot in her hand and smothered it with kisses. Starting on top, she worked her way to the instep. Edith gasped and said something about being ticklish. Ignoring whatever it was, Heather ran her tongue up and down her sole, going all the way from her heel to the tips of her toes and back, again and again.

Edith groaned and almost certainly came.

Switching feet, Heather concentrated on Edith’s toes. Her nails were predictably varnish-free but well-clipped. Licking and sucking her digits one by one was not an unpleasant task.

Neither was sucking them three at a time.

The best was yet to come, though. Still kneeling, Heather pulled off the frilly pink knickers, exposing a not-so-recently shaved pussy. Not that that was any deterrent. Heather liked pussies in all of their many forms. She really didn’t care if they were hairless, styled in fancy strips and triangles or covered with an untamed bush. Being there and being available were the only criteria that mattered to her.

And Ede’s was definitely there! It was easy to picture purple blood pounding into it, causing it to swell and darken.

‘Beautiful,’ Heather said sincerely.

‘Please,’ Edith sighed. ‘Please Hev . . .’

Heather didn’t need asking twice. ‘Open your legs for me,’ she commanded.

Edith immediately threw her legs apart, putting herself into the most whore-like position Heather could imagine (and that was an achievement in itself!).

‘Really Ede,’ she laughed, ‘I’m supposed to be teaching you, not the other way around.’

‘Please,’ Edith replied. ‘Please, Hev . . .’

After paying a limited amount of attention to the researcher’s labia, Heather switched focus to her clit. Or rather, aware that some women were super-sensitive there, she focused extensively on her hood.

Edith had been alternating between moans and groans for a while by then. Sweet-smelling juice was leaking out of her vagina. Again resisting temptation, not the girl to leave a job half-done, Heather did not stray.

Well, not much.

Concentrating mostly on her inner lips, Heather let her tongue follow Edith’s folds, occasionally letting it brush her actual clitoris, gradually assessing its sensitivity. Ede’s was, she concluded, quite tough. She could probably have gone for a direct assault straightaway. But it was better to be safe than sorry, wasn’t it? And her being considerate hadn’t hurt; it had just made a ten minute task last half an hour, but nobody was complaining.

Well I’m certainly not,’ she thought gleefully. I’m not complaining at all.

Edith’s next orgasm was simply awesome. Inspired by everything about it . . . the taste, touch, sound, smell and sight . . . Heather kept on going. By now she was more direct; now one hundred per cent of her efforts were aimed at that magic button. And by now she felt it appropriate to use a couple of fingers too.

Good grief wasn’t Edith’s vagina tight! Not to mention hot and very, very wet. Her reactions were more than mildly pleasant too. The odd “yes” and “nice” punctuated her many renewed moans and groans. Her luscious chest was heaving in an appreciative sort of a way. By far best of all, her lower body was moving with a graceful, musical rhythm.

Normally Heather imposed her own rhythm at moments like that. There were several golden oldies on her regular play list. Tonight she didn’t even try; instead she simply fell in with Edith’s beat.

And it was definitely working. A splash of warmth on her boobs confirmed that. So too did the rapidly rising volume of Edith’s verbal soundtrack.

‘Oh my God,’ she cried, ‘oh my God I’m going to . . . to . . .’

A much larger splash of warmth confirmed that Heather’s job was done.

Well, it was for a minute or two, anyway.

She climbed to her feet, stooped to kiss Edith’s nose again then straightened to unfasten her jeans.

‘I feel overdressed,’ she said as she kicked her legs free.

‘I feel . . . amazing.’ Edith laughed. ‘Is sex always as good as that?’

‘That was just foreplay.’ Heather grinned. ‘We need to go to bed to have sex.’

Edith shook her head and laughed some more.

‘No, really,’ Heather went on. ‘’It’s your turn next and we haven’t really even started yet. Unless you’re in need of vino we ought to be climbing those stairs.’

Edith just gazed at her.

‘It’s your choice,’ Heather continued. ‘What’s it to be: one more glass of wine; oblivion in the bottom of the whole box . . . or a more intimate cuddle on my bed?’

‘Bed,’ said Edith. ‘Bed first and foremost.’

Heather’s witchy cackle would have done Mary Rose proud. ‘I rather hoped you might say that,’ she said, grabbing Ede’s hand and pulling her shakily upright.

‘Bed, then?’

‘Oh yes! Yes please.’

Chapter Four

Later, snuggled together beneath the duvet, Heather told Edith that she was fantastic, that she was mega. That she had come in at eleven out of ten. And that if she’d been a virgin then she, Heather, was going to go buy a new hat and eat it.

‘I’ll get you a knife and fork then; this really is my first.’ Edith’s laugh was a bit wobbly. ‘And thank you. I never expected I’d turn into a lesbian, but it was really good.’

Heather rolled her eyes at that.

‘Just slow down on the lesbian track,’ she said. ‘One bout of sex isn’t going to “turn you” into anything. Not even if you did get the hang of it superbly.’

‘Hev . . . please, you’re embarrassing me.’

‘Good. And stop thanking me. I probably got more out of tonight than you did.’

‘I doubt that. I really do.’

‘Well you shouldn’t, Ede. You really shouldn’t.’

‘What now?’ Edith wondered after a comfy silence. ‘What do I do? Get up and go home?’

‘No way; you’re staying until you’re happy, remember?’

‘I remember you saying something about wine and hugs, although I only recall getting a drop of the former and none of the latter.’

‘You did too get a hug! It just developed. As they . . .’

Heather broke off, pleasantly shocked when she realized that Edith’s hand had made intimate contact with her under the covers, and boldly too.

‘That’s nice. Are you sure you used to be a virgin?’

Edith laughed yet again. Perhaps the extent of her “loss” had just sunk in. If it had then she’d clearly analysed her new status and come to terms with it. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but I’m a quick learner.’

‘I know that. It’s just . . .’ Heather broke off and chuckled. ‘Well, you didn’t seem like a virgin. And you certainly didn’t behave like one.’

It was dark so Edith’s blush was felt rather than seen. And yes, it really was felt; lying next to her was like lying next to a radiator.

‘I’ve used things for years,’ she said. ‘Nobody wanted to sleep with me, so . . . so there! I’m not intact because I use dildos on myself.’

‘Dildos are okay,’ Heather said. ‘They’re sold in their millions. Every bachelor girl should have at least two. I’ve got half a dozen. Or is it eight? Whatever; you’ve nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘I know that. It’s just so humiliating admitting how messed up my life is. I wish I could be as grown up about everything as you are.’

‘I take it you mean sex? Seeing as you’ve got everything else nailed?’

‘No . . . well, yes . . . I mean . . .’

Heather stroked her friend’s arm. ‘Think about it, Ede. You’re already brilliant. The rest of your life can’t fail to be successful. “Messed up” can’t possibly come into it. So you waited until now before you decided to have sex . . . so what? Sex isn’t compulsory, you know.’

‘It hasn’t even been optional for me. That’s the root of it all.’

‘Ede, Do me a favour. Use that rational brain of yours. Analyse how hard you’ve actually tried to have relationships. Compared to randy witches like me; the sort who do their best to capture at least one new partner a week.’

That only took a moment.

‘I never have tried.’ Edith laughed shortly. ‘There was one particular boy at school, but we never quite happened. Since then I suppose I’ve let myself go.’

‘Good. Now analyse where you’ve got to and where you want to be. Sexually, I mean.’

Ede took another brief pause for thought.

‘I’m still not trying. I haven’t done anything with my appearance for years. And I never give anyone the slightest encouragement. I need to change that.’

‘Excellent . . . that’s right to the point . . . and easy to change, to boot. Now how about the actual sex? Where exactly are you with that?’

‘I told you already.’ Edith’s body-radiator had stoked up again. ‘Before tonight I’d only ever done it on my own.’

‘But where do you want to go from here?’

‘I really enjoyed tonight.’ Edith’s hand was still in intimate contact. She moved it a second to give the inside of Heather’s thigh a friendly pinch. ‘But I want to do it with a bloke too. It can’t possibly be any better, but I have to find out.’

‘Sex is different with different people,’ Heather agreed. ‘Blokes are different to girls, but I wouldn’t say that they’re necessarily better or worse. To me, the key is for both partners to care about each other’s orgasm. There doesn’t have to be love involved, or even too much friendship, just that common intent . . . for the duration, so to speak.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Edith. ‘I understand. I won’t mistake your kindness for something else. I want us to have a mature, adult friendship.’

‘We already do have a mature, adult friendship,’ Heather relied patiently. ‘Getting you to have other mature, adult friendships is the issue.’

‘I know. And in answer to your earlier question: I want to get on with the learning curve as soon as possible.’

‘Do you mean with blokes?’

‘Yes, I do, and with one bloke in particular.’

‘So you haven’t got over Doug?’

‘I love him, Hev. I don’t know why . . . it isn’t logical . . . but I can’t stop myself.’

‘And you still feel that way, even after seeing his email?’

‘Of course I do; that was just him being one of the lads, exactly as you said it was.’

‘You’re determined about this, aren’t you?’

‘I can’t stop thinking about him.’ Edith sighed forlornly. ‘I know it’s useless, but I’m stuck with it.’

‘So you’re definitely not a lesbian then?’

‘I’m probably not, even though I’ll definitely keep trying it out . . . if you want to, that is.’

‘I want to, just as long as we stay friends above everything.’

‘Hev, I’ll always be your friend, especially after tonight. I’ll never . . .’

‘Enough! Consider it sorted. Just do something about Doug for goodness’ sake.’

‘I don’t think I dare. You keep telling me I’m terminally shy with blokes; I’m afraid you might be right.’

‘Yeah, and I’m starting to think Doug’s even worse.’

‘He probably is. The situation’s hopeless.’

‘Don’t ever say that. It’s a sex situation. Sex always finds a way.’

This time Edith’s sigh was even more heartfelt. ‘Shouldn’t that be “love” always finds a way?’

‘In this instance there’s not a lot of difference.’

‘Yes there is. I think about him all the time. It’s beginning to affect my work. In fact it’s going to drive me mad. I know it is.’

‘Good grief,’ said Heather. ‘If it’s as bad as that, it calls for desperate measures.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

I’m not sure, but something extreme . . . kill or cure . . . something to get you together or else get him out of your system, once and for all.’

‘What though? I can’t just throw myself at him. He might push me away.’

‘Don’t worry about that. I have a plan.’ It was Heather’s turn to laugh as inspiration struck her. ‘It’s the most cunning of all cunning plans. As Blackadder would say, you could pin a tail on and call it a weasel.’

Edith didn’t speak for a while. ‘What?’ she said, eventually.

Heather laughed again. ‘You are going to become the darling of scientific research. By the time I’ve finished, Doug will be crawling to you on his knees.’

Chapter Five

Part two of Heather’s plan was to completely change Edith’s image without materially changing the girl herself. In other words, it involved a blend of cosmetics and bolstered confidence . . . meaning the more bolstered the better. Part one involved winding up Doug tighter than a coiled spring. That bit was carried out personally by Heather, whose psyche never had needed much assistance.

She found him in the refectory, sitting alone with his dinner and a weighty scientific tome that made Econometrics seem quite interesting. He looked guilty from the word go.

‘That email,’ he said immediately. ‘I’m terribly sorry. We’ve all made our views plain to Geordie. He’s doing the rounds apologizing. Hasn’t he got to you yet?’

‘Never mind me.’ Heather stayed on her feet, overshadowing him. ‘What about Edith?’

‘I’m plucking up courage,’ he said limply.

‘Well you’re too late.’ She leant forward, hands on the table, giving him the choice of looking up at her face or down her very visible cleavage. Being a gentleman (or being a cowardly rat, already deep into the black stuff) he chose to look at her face.

‘What did Geordie say about me? That I’m “the best a man can get”? Well take it from me, Edith’s the best a girl can get.’

Doug’s jaw dropped. ‘What . . . what are you saying?’

‘I’m saying she slept with me last night.’ Heather’s grin was in danger of splitting off the top half of her head. She had rehearsed her words beforehand, but even so this felt spontaneous and good. ‘You have blown it, Doug. I got inside her baggy sweatshirt first, luckily for me.’

‘But . . .’

‘Don’t but me, Doug. Listen to me instead. She was saving herself for you. Until that email landed and changed her mind. Last night she asked me to be her first. And it was great.’

She deliberately leant even closer. Doug’s face was a picture now. He really didn’t seem to notice her boobs as conflicting and very visible emotions raced through him: surprise, dismay, envy . . .

Yes, he was showing lots and lots of envy.

‘You’ll be on your own in the lab on Saturday,’ Heather continued mercilessly. ‘Edith’s coming away to the Lake District with me. I’m going to fill the fridge with snacks and we’re going to lock the world out, so we can fuck each other all weekend long.’

Doug flinched at the F word, making Heather bite back a laugh. She’d spent years and years at The Manor trying to stop Mary Rose swearing so much. Mary Rose always argued the word had its uses. She would have pounced on Doug as proof that she had been right.

‘You can think about us every time you look at her empty work station,’ Heather went on viciously.

‘But . . .’

‘But nothing, Doug, you’ve blown it. She won’t be there Saturday or Sunday. She’ll be wrapping that lovely body of hers around lucky old me instead.’

At that Heather laughed out loud. The weekend away really was going to happen and she could not wait. Last night was for Edith as a friend in need. Saturday night, Sunday morning was going to be for both of them.

‘Lucky, lucky old me,’ she added, twisting the knife.

Doug clearly couldn’t take much more. For a split second his eyes dropped down to Heather’s chest and then hastily bounced back up to her face.

‘But . . .’ he said for about the hundredth time.

‘I’ve got a special gadget that will let me be a man for her,’ she said softly, almost whispering. ‘When I say I’m going to fuck her, I really mean it. While you are playing silly games with your fancy chemistry set, she’ll be locking her ankles behind my back and hoping I never stop.’

‘But . . .’

‘She’s a very loving woman, Edith. And she cums better than a wet dream. I can’t wait to find out what she’s like when she’s actually got something buried deep inside her, or when I teach her one or two of the more adventurous positions.’

‘But . . .’

It was tempting to ask if Doug was now the university’s last virgin, but Heather couldn’t be so cruel (not quite). Instead she smiled sweetly and said: ‘Goodness only knows why, but she still likes you. You still have a chance of being her first bloke.’

‘Right,’ Doug blabbered. He had been blushing furiously for most of the conversation, various shades of red steadily deepening. Now he was on the verge of self-combustion.

‘What . . . what do you suggest I do?’

‘What do I suggest?’ Heather laughed some more and went into Mary Rose Overdrive mode. ‘Don’t ask me. I’m your rival, Doug. I’m going to keep fucking her until you think of a way to make her fuck you instead. Hopefully it’ll take forever.’

Doug’s response was to bring flowers into the lab. Acting on Heather’s instructions, Edith accepted them but declined a conciliatory drink. Also acting on Heather’s instructions (and constantly carping about it “off-stage”) Edith began playing hard to get, avoiding the refectory altogether and resigning from the chess club. And the harder she played, the harder Doug tried. Being seen to be Edith’s so-very-ardent admirer no longer seemed to be a problem. In fact having a rival seemed to have galvanized him.

It was fair to say he’d been sussed.

Over the next couple of months Heather spent a lot of extra time with Edith, regularly marvelling at the transformation in her. It would have been nice to take all the credit, but much was of the researcher’s own doing, thanks to her intelligence and that amazing learning ability. In bed she went from an eager virgin to porn-star-class in about a week. Out of bed she changed almost immediately, as self-confidence started to bloom and grow.

And why shouldn’t she be confident? She’d discovered the use of a limited amount of make-up . . . of hot sex whenever she fancied it . . . and best of all, of having Doug running in circles around her with his tongue hanging out.

Bring it on!

The old Edith was tallish but slouched, with long, almost straggly hair and clouded eyes. Infused with self-belief, she stood upright, threw back her shoulders and was suddenly flaunting an intriguing pair of bazoomas. Her carriage changed too; while she didn’t exactly strut about like Naomi on a catwalk, her body language suddenly started shouting “Wow!”

Unilaterally abandoning her previous baggy, shapeless jeans and even worse shapeless sweatshirts, she switched to tight Levi’s and skimpy T-shirts. Heads turned when she came into any room. Doug must have noticed his list of rivals growing daily.

Heather did her best to further bolster Edith’s self-assurance before tackling her skin and hair. Finally satisfied that her eyes had become cloudless, she introduced her to the sunbed facilities at a local gym. Then, when she could see a worthwhile tan setting in, she dragged her into the nearest Toni & Guy for a severe trim and dye. That worked! Overnight Edith became “the Tall Ash-blonde With the Chest”. She spent the next fortnight fighting off even more new admirers then went back on her own. This time she came out with a white urchin cut that completely altered her forever and ever. Amen.

By then blokes were queuing up to make excuses to visit her lab.

“Kill or cure” ultimately happened at what was to become an infamous rugby semi-final. Suspecting a breakthrough was in the offing, Heather suggested Edith might like to try a different man first, purely in the interests of practice. Ede wouldn’t hear of it. All this was because of Doug, she insisted, so he was first in line.

‘I know it’s not logical,’ she said yet again. ‘But I love him.’

‘Don’t talk to me about logical,’ Heather retorted, chuckling. ‘It’s Mister Spock you should be in love with, not a simple Earthling.’

Her friend didn’t quite get that but it didn’t matter; she’d picked her Earthling and, from being oblivious to her charms, he was now threatening to bury her in orchids. When he gave up Saturday in the lab in favour of a ticket on the same supporters’ coach . . . and for God-awful rugby at that . . . there could only be one possible outcome.

And it was, of course, cure, not kill. One seven hundred mile coach-trip later and Edith and Doug were as good as spliced. Within a month they were living together (Doug giving up his comparatively luxurious student accommodation at the cost of horrendous financial penalties).

Within a year they were wed.


Author’s Note: This is very much a one-off as far as Heather stories go. Usually, even if I’m writing a series, I try to make each part readable on its own. That isn’t always easy but I try! I also tend to use the same surroundings a lot . . . as indeed I have with Edith. Hopefully this latest yarn brings out the caring side of Ms Hunter . . . as well as the eternal opportunist.

Other books by LimeyLady

Heather Hunter’s Exploits

Friday Night Fun

It Started With a Kiss


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

Heather’s Hectic Weekend Part One

Heather’s Hectic Weekend Part Two

Heather’s Hectic Weekend Part Three

Heather’s Hectic Weekend Part Four

Heather Falls in Love Part One

Heather Falls in Love Part Two

Heather Falls in Love Part Three

Bedding the Boss

Re-Bedding the Boss

Sammy Jo Has a Big Night Out

Sammy Jo Has Another Big Night Out

Sammy Jo Tries Team Building

Short and Sweet

Brief Encounter

Victoria’s Secret

Victoria's Second Secret

Victoria’s Third Secret

Loving Made Easy

I Want Your Sex

Love Triangle Series

New Beginnings

New Beginnings Advance

New Beginnings Falter

New Beginnings Revive

New Beginnings Conclude

Two Sides to Every Story


Davina Again

Davina Does Christmas

Davina Does Easter

Davina Does Older Women

Davina Does Scotland

Davina Does Three More

Davina Falls Out

WWE Series

No Holds Barred in London

No Holds Barred in Belfast

No Holds Barred in Boston

No Holds Barred in Munich

Naughty Daughter Series

Daddy’s Girl

Doing It With Daddy

Doing More For Daddy

Angie’s Exploits

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

Fat Bottomed Girls

Ruby Tuesday

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Come On Eileen

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

Satanism Series (featuring Heather Hunter)

A First Date With The Devil

Compilations of short stories

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun 1

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun 2

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun 3

Full-length novels

Dangerous Dealings (a free if short intro to the long ones)

Unconsecrated Ground

Best Served Cold

There will always be some of the above stories available free-of-charge on Smashwords. The rest will be subject to a significant list-price discount at various times of the year. The aim is to have minimally twenty books discounted during any one calendar month. Ideally, there will be as many as thirty.

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