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The room was, she decided, quite acceptable if bog-standard hotel. In her opinion Guinness was the only free-flow option that wasn't full of gas.It would do, however the rest of the day turned out. The bar turned out to be easy to find but, very sadly, it wasn't equipped with proper hand-pulls. The actual bar was large and about half-full with few solitary drinkers to be seen.Usually advertisements interested her as much as horny young boys . Hell, one night in a double room was cheaper than her rail fare from the East Midlands! ' ***** She had, naturally, been lying about Di Caprio. It wasn't as if he was likely to be there in the morning, ready to share that breakfast, was it?

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'I don't suppose you want my advice as how best to use it? 'I want to compare very detailed notes about using it, not take advice.' 'We're still on for half past one, then? ' 'It certainly does.' ***** Exiting through the automatic doors Angie felt a gravitational pull towards the coffee shop opposite. Felicity was wearing a short, business-like black skirt, tasteful (and tasty) black stockings, a startlingly brilliant white shirt and a jacket that matched just everything.

Window shopping or a hot drink and a greasy sandwich, she mused. She bought a large regular coffee with cream and ordered an even larger sausage, bacon and egg in a barm cake. Angie wasn't the only one watching her sashay down the city centre street. As the sight for sore eyes disappeared around a corner Angie's sandwich arrived. Approaching the reception desk, she read it more closely.

From antiques to modern Professional evaluations, Staging of your home, Courteous & bonded staff, Clean-up after sale.

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.

' Chapter Two (Wednesday 14th January 1998) The train journey between Nottingham and Manchester Piccadilly took two hours. Angie strolled across to the harness and dildo section.

Fresh from a second night in her art teacher's bed, Angie caught an early one and found herself close to the main shopping area maybe half past eleven. At one with herself nowadays, Angie accepted that as far as being provocative went, she was better off naked than kitted out for bawdy burlesque. Felicity appeared as if by magic, out of simply nowhere, as she drew to a halt. 'Well hello again,' she said brightly, like the perfect salesperson she was. ' 'No,' said Angie, picking out a green Double-Your-Pleasure. Felicity dressed like a high-powered CEO with a herd of personal assistants of her own.Then, borrowing a Daily Express from the generally available rack, she took a window seat and let the world go by while she caught up on a (slightly right-wing) view of the world's events. Felicity left her place of work at two minutes past twelve. If asked before September, Angie would have guessed that a sex shop worker dressed like a . She had seen much smaller footballs but set into it with a relish. It was, she had to admit, an impressive set up with lots of dark, shiny wood surfaces and acres of polished marble floors. As their contribution to the "Manchester Experience", the hotel was supporting the January Sales by hiring out rooms on a one-night basis (weekends excluded).Apparently the "new roubles" in circulation in Russia weren't going to trouble the almighty dollar . Then, using a napkin to wipe the brown sauce and grease from about her person, she checked her watch. What was it going to be; more coffee or the hotel bar? She felt as if she'd jumped back a century or so, back to the days where customer service counted ahead of budgets. As she cast around, searching for the bar, her attention was caught by a sign. Comparing the special rate with a nearby list of tariffs, Angie could see they were being generous indeed. Convinced the gods were smiling down on her, she accepted the key. Then, flirtatiously, 'Has anyone ever told you that you look a bit like Leonardo Di Caprio?Angie scowled at a range of free-flow lagers and ciders and finally went for a pint of Guinness . By far the majority of the other customers were in pairs or small groups. She had also openly admitted she was a woman who liked to have sex with women. Picturing her ass strutting down a crowded street, it was easy to take her to be a woman who wanted to be in charge: in other words a woman very much like Miss Pearce.Frowning, Angie wondered if Felicity was a regular in there. But on the phone she had been all soft and compliant.Felicity was drop-dead gorgeous as well as very helpful. By now Angie'd been sexless for thirty-one hours and was beginning to feel deprived. I'd hate it if you came in when I wasn't here.' 'Me too,' Angie agreed, her antennae eagerly twitching. 'There again,' she said seductively, 'it could be quite convenient if you were in town on my afternoon off . .' ***** Angie never failed to marvel at the ease of hooking up.

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