Don't Go Breaking My Heart

'Naturally I have, most of them too many times to mention. How could I possibly give tips and advice if I hadn't?'

'Omigod, I think you mean it.'

'I do.'

'What about the male-specific ones?'

'One of my colleagues tests most of those.' Felicity chuckled again. 'I'm not entirely a man-free zone, but we have an agreement. I get first go with all the girl-specific samples and she gets all the men's. Afterwards we compare notes and decide whether to venture into the unknown.'

'You mean you sometimes go with a guy to check out an interesting new device?'

'Well, not very often, but sometimes I have to see it for myself. And sometimes I have to sleep with my colleague so she can see for herself, too. It's hard work but someone has to do it.'

'Dedication to duty,' said Angie, 'I can't fault that.'

Then, curious: 'Have you anyone who's meaningful at the moment?'

'Yes and no.' Felicity shrugged. 'I'm not so sure. My girlfriend . . .'

She clapped her mouth shut as a waiter put her sandwich on the table in front of her. Judging from his rosy cheeks, he'd caught her gist.

And, judging from the way she picked her story back up, Felicity didn't give a fig for his sensitivities.

'Roxanne's been backpacking for the last six months,' she said. 'Last I heard she was getting ready to set off into the Australian outback with her travelling companions.'

'So she's not alone.'

'No; there are four of them: two girls, two guys. And, before you ask, they're not platonic. They'd been taking turns to shag each other during the planning stage, and that lasted ages.'

'You mean they coupled off?'

'I mean they coupled off on a rotating basis. By now, six months in two tents they'll be . . .'

Leaving the sentence hanging, Felicity had a bite of bacon roll.

'And that's not counting folk they've met on the way,' she resumed. 'I daren't think how many notches Roxy'll have on her bedpost. There can't be much of her post left.'

Angie grinned. 'Who have you been trying out your new toys with?'

'I'm flat-sharing while Roxy's away,' said Felicity. 'My two lesbian friends had a spare room when they finally got it together, if you know what I mean. I'm currently in the one they don't need anymore.'

'And they've been helping, have they?'

'They've helped me on several occasions.'

Angie's grin widened: 'Have they done that individually or both at once?'

'Both at once,' Felicity laughed, 'at least officially. Unofficially my lips are sealed. Enough of that; tell me about your experiences with your first Double-Your-Pleasure.'

Five minutes later, after listening to Angie's exceedingly frank account, she laughed some more. 'It sounds to me you're more of a giver than a taker.'

'I've always liked giving,' said Angie. 'I like receiving too, of course, but giving has always been my big thing. And giving a girl one with a toy like that . . .'

The waiter was hovering again. This time his cheeks were brick-red rather than rosy. This time it was Angie who didn't give a fig about him listening in.

'We'll have more drinks, please,' she said as he collected Felicity's empty plate. 'Put them on 444.'

Felicity stared at her.

'Where was I?' said Angie. 'Oh, yes. That toy is something else. Every time I feel those ridges rubbing on my clit I think of what you promised me. And you were right about it in every respect. I undersold it when I said it should be renamed "triple" or "quadruple". I'm going to think of it as "sextuple" from now on. That has a ring to it, doesn't it?''

'444 sounds like a room number,' said Felicity.

'It is,' Angie replied. 'But don't think I'm presuming anything. I've been impulsive, not presumptuous. I saw a sign in the lobby, encouraging me to enjoy the "Manchester Experience" and the prices were so cheap I had to go for it.'

Felicity was still staring at her. Her expression was suddenly difficult to read.

'Honestly,' Angie rushed on, 'I wasn't even certain you'd actually turn up. And I never intended to drag you into anything you didn't want to do. Plan A was to have this chat then to take you out for a bit of a pub crawl. Believe it or not, I've never visited Manchester socially. Well, apart from a quick raid on the shops, I haven't.'

'And what was Plan B?'

'To go out by myself on a solo pub crawl; anything being preferable to going back alone to an empty hall of residence.'

'Good recovery,' Felicity conceded, smiling a little but still mostly inscrutable.

Angie couldn't help but glance at the other girl's chest. Her nipples had been quite visible through her jumper all along, maybe semi-erect. Now they weren't semi anything; they were standing out loud and proud, whistling and waving.

'I must admit the idea of inviting you to my room did occur to me,' Angie went on softly. 'I am human, after all. But I never presumed.'

Felicity reached down into her sports bag and produced a plain paper bag. It obviously held some sort of rectangular box.

'I brought you this,' she said, passing it across.

The logo-free bag was identical to the one containing Angie's new purchase. Waiting until the waiter had been and gone, leaving them their latest round, she examined its contents, using the table as a makeshift screen.

'"Wireless, remote-controlled love egg,"' she said, reading from the blurb on the front of the box.

'That's right,' said Felicity, 'have you already got one?'

'No, but I know what it is . . . I think.'

'So what is it?'

'It's some subtle sort of vibrator.'

'Subtle,' echoed Felicity, chuckling, 'as if!'

'Okay then, maybe it's not so subtle.'

'It isn't. It's outrageously candid. And using it is to die for. I was going to ask you to try it out. And I was going to invite you back here afterwards, to talk through its pros and cons. As research, I mean. So I could pass your feedback on to other interested parties.'

'Like a practical survey sort of thing?'

'Something along those lines, yes. I was going to reward you by buying you a few drinks and letting you keep the egg.'

'That's very generous of you.'

'The egg's a sample, so I got it for next to nothing. But it's brand-new and unused. And trust me; I was really looking forward to hearing your opinions.'

'But . . .'

'But you've been presumptuous enough to get a room so why wait?' Felicity laughed and grinned and patted her hand. 'Drink your drink, lass, then I'll show you exactly how it works.'

Chapter Four

The first thing Angie did in 444 was something that she'd wanted to do forever: she hung the DO NOT DISTURB sign out on the door handle. Then, after pulling every bolt and turning every lock, she did something she'd wanted to do ever since Saturday.

She kissed Felicity.

Standing there in her room, mouth to mouth, she reckoned they were a good fit. She was a couple of inches taller, much broader across the shoulders and three or four stones heavier than Felicity. Or, in other words, she was built like a man and Felicity was built like a babe. Common sense decreed they had to look good together.

Not that she wasted time on common sense. No, there was nothing remotely "hello" about that first private kiss; it started off hot and only got hotter.

Felicity's hands gripped Angie's ass. Not to be outdone, she gripped Felicity's tight buns through the thin material of her leggings. And one of them started to grind groins.

Well, maybe both of them started. It was the sort of situation where things just happen.

Hands gripping ever more strongly, lower bodies grinding stronger still, Angie became aware of heat building rapidly inside her. She would have gasped but Felicity was fiercely sucking her tongue. Fuck it; this wasn't a moment to dither.

Angie thrust hard with her slivery organ. Even lodged in place as it was, between Felicity's and the roof of her mouth, it moved.

So too did Angie's insides.

She juddered and contracted once, twice, thrice and then felt the gush.

Another pair of jeans ruined.

Hey, ho!

Felicity moved with her, their groins continuing to grind in unison then, perhaps five minutes after Angie's first big release, she pushed her away.

'My word, lass,' she said raggedly, 'you like to go for it, don't you?'

Angie just grinned at her, equally ragged.

'So here I am,' Felicity resumed. 'I take I you want to shag me with your latest new toy.'

It was a statement, not a question.

'Of course I do,' said Angie. 'I already told you that I'm only human.'

'Here's the deal,' the blonde went on. 'I'm happy to let you take me all afternoon . . . but only if you let me have my girly fun first.'

Unsure what she meant, Angie shrugged. 'Sounds like a promising deal. Tell me more.'

'We're going to kick off with the egg,' said Felicity. 'It's like all sex acts . . . good but much better when someone else does it for you. But you're sweet and innocent when it comes to eggs. So I'll give you a solo demo first, and then we can use it on each other. Okay?'

'And then I get to shag you?'

'Yes, lass, and then you get to shag me.'

'How do you want it?'

'Do you mean once I've finished egging around and opened my legs?'

'Yes.'

This time the blonde's laugh was somewhat breathless. 'That's rather down to you and your sextuple toy; isn't it?'

'Sounds like a promising deal,' Angie repeated. 'Go on, duck, after you.'

*****

Aware Felicity wanted a measure of control, Angie slowly stripped for her. Then watched as Felicity did likewise, almost dying when it transpired she had a white T-shirt under her jumper.

How unfair was that!

And just how near diamond-hard must those nips be to stand out so far through two layers!!

Naked, Felicity perched on the edge of the bed and adroitly opened the box. 'This is the remote,' she said, holding up something similar to the contraption Angie's dad used for his TV. 'And this is the egg. It's made of silicone and has several settings.'

'You sound like a school teacher,' said Angie, kneeling on the carpet before her.

'And teacher is always right,' Felicity replied, grinning. 'And by the way, this is a look but don't touch lesson. No, it's a look, listen and learn lesson. I'll let you know if and when you're allowed to touch.'

'Go ahead; I'm all eyes and ears.'

'Okay, so it's basically a vibrator. Have you used vibrators before?'

'Yes. Mostly my straight friend's rabbit; we've used it a lot together.'

Felicity's brow creased. 'How straight is this friend of yours?'

'She's about the same as my other straight girlfriends: curious and inclined to stray.'

'I see.' Felicity shook her head and pressed the remote, the vibrations making the blue egg wobble about on her palm. 'Right then; this little beauty has four patterns and three speeds. That's a dozen lovely, mind-blowing combinations. Home alone, a girl can run through them one after another, time after time. But, with a girlfriend in charge of the remote, it's a different kettle of fish. A certain degree of teasing and tormenting comes into play . . . Plus the thrill of the unexpected, naturally.'

'I'm not sure I quite understand.'

'Don't worry,' said Felicity, you soon will.'

Realizing she already had the thrill of the unexpected, Angie laughed and kept listening.

'These things are supposed to be silent,' the blonde went on. 'As you can hear, they're not, not quite, but they certainly aren't loud. Girls have been known to use them in restaurants and bars . . . Under cover, so to speak.'

'You mean . . .'

'I mean a couple like you and me, sat at a table, you sipping soup and cutting your sirloin, me bringing you off at irregular intervals with the remote. Sounds fun, no?'

'It sounds debauched,' said Angie. Then she laughed again. 'And yeah, it sounds like enormous fun.'

'Okay, so here's the demo. Normally I'd suggest a dash of lubricant, just in case. And I'd warn about overdoing it; the egg can pop straight back out if you overdo it.'

'It's exclusively internal then?' asked Angie.

'No it isn't. But everyone I know prefers it internally. If you'll shut up and pay attention, I'll try to show you why.'

'I'm so sorry, ma'am.'

Felicity gave her another look and half a smile. 'Right then,' she said briskly, 'seeing as I'm as wet as I've been in ages, I'm skipping the lube. See this drawstring?'

Angie saw it all right but leant in closer anyway.

'We take care to leave it outside,' Felicity continued, 'just like you-know-what. And we also take care to push the egg in very, very slowly.'

Angie watched as her friend gradually eased the bright blue ovoid into herself.

'If I was on my own,' Felicity said, not quite swallowing the toy, 'I'd set it vibrating now. I have the most amazing bunch of nerve endings right here.'

You and me both,' Angie agreed.

'But, in the interests of the demonstration . . . Well, onwards and inwards.'

The blonde pressed the egg further in. Fascinated, Angie watched as it gradually disappeared, pink lips hungrily engulfing it, urging it on its way.

'It's quite possible to alternate,' said Felicity. 'Vibrating or not, I can push it in with my fingers, pull out with the string. See what I mean? It's like going for a different rhythm within the multiple rhythms.'

'Do you feel full?' Angie asked, genuinely interested because the toy seemed so small.

'Pussies are tight and retentive,' said Felicity, remarkably cool considering what she was doing. 'Mine is particularly so. So yes, it fills me. And doesn't it feel good!'

She had been sitting on the edge of the bed. Now she shifted position and lay back with her head on a pillow. Not wanting to miss one word of the lesson, Angie followed her, kneeling on the duvet, closer than close.

Pressing a button on the remote, Felicity proceeded.

'This is the basic pattern on the slowest speed. Can you hear it?'

'Yes. I'd hear it in a restaurant, too.'

'What, over background music and all the other sounds of folk eating and chatting?'

'Hmmm, possibly not, but I wouldn't be sure. Not if I actually knew it was vibrating, I mean.'

'Trust me . . . You'd know!'

'I guess I would,' Angie admitted, suitably enthralled.

'Maybe a bit of uncertainty adds to the occasion,' said Felicity. 'Maybe we should try it the next time we get together, downstairs in the bar.'

'Maybe we should, but what else does it do?'

In response Felicity pressed another button. The faint buzz accelerated, becoming a little louder. 'This is the same pattern on medium,' she said, her composure less complete, slightly ruffled. 'Two minutes of this and I'll cum.'

'Go ahead, be my guest.'

Angie edged in closer still. Felicity was shaved clean down there. Streaks of lady juice were running in all directions, soaking the bed covers. She smelt of shampoo, feminine deodorant and woman.

She smelt heavenly.

'This is what I like,' Felicity murmured, inching her right hand towards her clitoral hood, moving it over her clit, the incessant buzzing resounding. 'And it's better to have an audience.' She moaned, gasped and laughed. 'I've never had an audience before. Not like this, anyway.'

Dismissing "look but don't touch", Angie kissed the inside of Felicity's thigh.

Felicity sighed and said, 'Oh yes.'

Encouraged, her eyes still fixed on Felicity's firmly, regularly stimulated clit, Angie kissed the inside of her other thigh.

Felicity groaned.

'Oh yes, oh yes, yes, yes.'

Her orgasm was ballistic. Swapping kissing for licking, Angie put in as much extra effort as she could.

Swapping the first pattern for the next, still sticking to medium speed, Felicity started over.

'Two minutes of this and I'll cum,' she promised.

Chapter Five

Somehow mid-afternoon became late-ish evening and Felicity wanted to buy dinner.

'It's my shout, she insisted. 'And you're supposed to be a penniless student, so shut up and join me in the shower.'

Angie could have claimed she'd recently earned her keep behind the Union Bar. Or that she was flush with "Christmas Money" from her parents. But she could see that Felicity meant business.

So she shut up and joined her in the shower.

Showering together was great fun and drying each other afterwards was . . . Well, girly but interesting.

No, it was girly and very, very interesting.

'Dinner on me,' Felicity said, smiling into Angie's eyes. 'And, seeing as you've done all the giving, you get the star prize.'

Angie scowled. 'I thought I already had the star prize.'

'No you haven't. Not yet. Tonight, Angie, you get to go out with an egg. And don't bother arguing; I am not listening.'

'I am not going out with an egg up my pussy,' Angie argued.

'I dare you,' Felicity retorted.

That did the trick.

'I dare do anything,' Angie countered . . . rashly.

'I know you dare. And I knew you'd say that.'

*****

It wasn't easy to tell if having the (as yet inert) egg inside her was a turn-on. On the one hand Angie was hopping from foot to foot, expecting the by-now familiar buzz at any second. On the other hand the suspense was killing her.

So how the heck was she supposed to form a reasoned opinion?

How with Felicity smirking, sniggering and leaving her to stew?

Felicity knew where the "best" restaurant was. Fresh from the shower, she was back in her après gym kit of pink trainers, leggings and striped jumper. And, due to the time of year she had added her smart work jacket.

The remote control was in her left-side jacket pocket.

And her left hand was forever hovering . . . forever hovering without pouncing.

At least it was as yet.

The bistro wasn't a million miles from the hotel (it was only sexual tension making it seem like several light years away). A very pleasant, middle-aged guy who may have been Italian ushered them in and up to a prime corner table.

'A day without wine is like a day without sunshine,' he said. 'What can I bring you?'

'It's pinot every time for me,' said Felicity. 'One of those litre carafes will do very nicely.

Angie nodded. 'Make it a two litre carafe,' she said. 'She's paying.'

'Bellissimo,' he replied with half a theatrical bow, not necessarily proving his ancestry but confirming he knew how to suck up to his clientele.

'Felicity . . .' Angie began, more on edge than ever.

'Relax,' the blonde replied, sniggering. 'Anticipation is most of the deal, yeah?'

'Felicity . . .'

Her objection was interrupted by the arrival of their wine. And the massive carafe was chilled within an inch of its life. Condensation was constantly forming and trickling down with gravity, leaving wet snail-trails in its wake.

'You pour,' said Felicity, 'then get a load of the menu.'

Angie was slightly wrong-footed. Her blonde friend had obviously dined here often enough to know the ropes inside out and upside down.

She also still had her finger on the remote.

'I'll go for the minestrone and a steak,' Angie said, not bothering to look at the carte du jour.

'I always did have you down as a soup and sirloin girl,' said Felicity, sniggering again.

'Ah well, you're wrong. I'm going for the fillet with pepper sauce, not the sirloin.'

'Let's just call it a close miss.'

'Cheers,' Angie replied, touching her glass to Felicity's.

The maître d' was back, notebook in hand. Angie's hostess expertly gave him their order then covertly slipped her hand back into her jacket pocket.

Angie nearly died. By then she was familiar with all of the egg's patterns and speeds. Felicity had set it off again on the second pattern, and at its slowest pace.

Even so, the bloody thing was buzzing like a swarm of bees. Fighting off sheer panic, Angie somehow convinced herself she was "hearing" vibrations which were inaudible to anyone outside of her body.

But hey, it was a hard sell!

Felicity, meanwhile, was sniggering and pressing more buttons. Sticking to the slowest pace, she very casually ran through one pattern after another . . . again and again and again.