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    Don't Go Breaking My Heart
    Don't Go Breaking My Heart
    Don't Go Breaking My Heart
    Ebook76 pages49 minutes

    Don't Go Breaking My Heart

    By Limey Lady

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Christmas has been fun but now Angie has some catching up to do with "friends" back at uni. First, however, she feels the need to stop off in Manchester, to give a certain sex shop sales assistant some very positive feedback.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLimey Lady
    Release dateDec 17, 2017
    ISBN9781370726561
    Don't Go Breaking My Heart
    Author

    Limey Lady

    Here's a confession for you: I'm not sure if "Limey Lady" is a pseudonym or my alter ego. Back in 2016, when she came into being, she was definitely a nom de plume. Now, however, I am not so sure. As background, I have always written stories but, up to 2009, writing took a backseat, way behind the demands of my family and career. Then a life-changing medical condition . . . well, it changed everything for and about me. Suddenly I had/have time to spare. Suddenly I was/am churning out tale after tale. I was born in York but brought up in West Yorkshire, in part of the Aire Valley often described as "Bronte Country". I must say, though, that although most of my stories are set locally, they have little in common with the fine works of Charlotte, Emily and Anne. So far my output can be divided into two: long stories featuring ne'er-do-wells, guns and some violence . . . and shorter stories featuring "liberated" women who rarely do what they're supposed to do. Limey Lady was created to be the author of the short stuff. But the longer novels all include feisty, uncooperative females - much like her characters - so I'm going to put her name to both as I publish on Smashwords. Watch this space . . .

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      Book preview

      Don't Go Breaking My Heart - Limey Lady

      Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

      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

      Author’s Note

      Chapter One - Felicity

      Chapter Two - Booking in

      Chapter Three - Feedback

      Chapter Four - Room 444

      Chapter Five - Dining out

      Chapter Six - Back to uni

      Chapter Seven - Ruby Thursday

      Chapter Eight - Helen

      Other Books by LimeyLady

      Author’s Note: As is the case with all my Angie stories, I have done my best to write this as a tale in itself. Although "Don’t Go Breaking My Heart picks up from the end of Come on Eileen", it should be immediately readable in its own right.

      Please let me know if it’s not!

      Chapter One

      (Saturday 10th January 1998)

      Angie found the business card while she was rooting in her wallet, searching for proof of membership for her local library. Somehow the card had got in-between her provisional driving licence and one of the credit cards she tried never to use.

      She’d forgotten she had it but instantly realized what it was.

      It was her link with Felicity, the very helpful sales assistant in a certain Manchester sex shop.

      No, make that the very alluring, older sales assistant in a certain Manchester sex shop.

      She smiled and tucked the card back in a more prominent place. Felicity was drop-dead gorgeous as well as very helpful. And she’d been promised feedback on the most daring of Angie’s purchases.

      How did a woman like that slip my mind? Angie wondered, recalling long legs and hair so blonde it was almost white. Why oh why didn’t I ring?

      Then, grinning: And is three months later really too late?

      By now Angie had been home for a week. For the first five days she’d slept in her parent’s bed with Sandra, her beautiful black girlfriend from school. After a full term at different universities they’d had a lot of catching up to do . . . obviously. Those parental bed springs had taken a pounding.

      Yes, hadn’t they just!

      But Mum and Dad had got back from Lanzarote in the early hours of Friday. And Sandra was going to return to her own bit of academia that very morning. By now, sexless for thirty-one hours, Angie was just beginning to feel deprived.

      Well, okay, she’d as good as arranged to screw away most of this afternoon with another old school chum, Abigail. And she’d totally arranged Monday night with her former art teacher . . .

      Thinking about Miss Pearce made her grin again, inside and out. Apparently fucking a teacher was taboo, even if that teacher didn’t actually teach her willing pupil.

      Not in the classroom definition of teaching anyway.

      Personally, Angie didn’t give a toss about taboos. Not when they were stupid ones. No, as far as she was concerned, being illicit only made the liaison more fun.

      And fucking a thirty-something who looked like a young Brigit Bardot was fun in the first place, wasn’t it?

      Make that another yes.

      Sneaking up to Miss Pearce’s house, rapping on her door, wondering what delicious state of undress she’d reply in this time . . .

      Wondering how few seconds it would take to get them in bed . . .

      And wondering if they would make it to the stairs, come to that, never mind all the way up them.

      Impatiently fucking semi-clad on the welcome mat had not been unheard of.

      Truth was that sex was essential, wasn’t it? And so too was novelty. While it was always a pleasure to rekindle old flames, fucking with someone new

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