Fat Bottomed Girls: Three or four is not a crowd (Angie's adventures Book 7)

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Fat Bottomed Girls: Three or four is not a crowd (Angie's adventures Book 7) Page 3

by Limey Lady


  ‘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.

 

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