CLASS OF '88
by Norsebard
Contact: norsebarddk@gmail.com
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DISCLAIMERS:
This alt. romance is an original story. All characters are
created by me.
This story depicts a loving, sexual relationship between
consenting adult women. If such a story frightens you, you better
click on the X in the top right corner of your screen right
away.
All characters depicted, names used, and incidents portrayed in
this story are fictitious. No identification with actual persons is
intended nor should be inferred. Any resemblance of the characters
portrayed to actual persons, living or dead is purely
coincidental.
The registered trademarks mentioned in this story are © of
their respective owners. No infringement of their rights is
intended, and no profit is gained.
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NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR:
Thank you for your help, Yorksbard
:)
Written: September 17th - 24th,
2011.
Finished in Second Place in the 2011 Cocktail Hour 'Bearded
Clam' Writing Challenge.
As usual, I'd like to say a great, big THANK YOU to my mates at
AUSXIP Talking Xena, especially to the gals and guys in Subtext
Central. I really appreciate your support - Thanks, everybody!
:D
Description: For Delia Corbett, the party
marking the twentieth anniversary of her finishing secondary school
turns into a magical, unpredictable evening with plenty of laughter
and a few tears. Meeting her old classmates for the first time in
years brings back a lot of memories - especially of Vicky Baxter, a
honey-blonde beauty who was the first girl Delia
kissed…
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
'
WELCOME CLASS OF 1988!
Twentieth Anniversary, June 1988 - 2008
'
"Hmmm…" Delia 'Del' Corbett said, closing her right eye
and putting an index finger across her lips while studying the red
and yellow plastic banner that had been draped above the
entrance.
The car park in front of the building she had rented for the
reunion party - the village hall in Barton-upon-Lea - wasn't the
world's most inspiring place to be, and it didn't help that the
weather left a lot to be desired; it was windy and spitting with
rain, as usual.
The gusts of wind made a mess of Delia's long, mousy brown hair,
and she had to clamp down on it with both hands to stop it from
turning into a haystack.
Delia's sister, Cathy, tried to fight the gusts perched on the
top step of an impossibly tall ladder, practically turning blue in
the face from trying to hold the plastic banner steady. "Even
higher, Del?"
"Hmmm. No. A little down."
"Will you make up your bleedin' mind! You said it was too low
before!"
"Woman's prerogative. Ah, keep it where it is. Nobody is going
to look at it, anyway," Delia said and waved her
hand.
Cathy grumbled and reached for the hammer she had stuck into her
pocket. With a little skill and a lot of luck, she managed to put a
nail in the wall without ruining either. Finally allowed to climb
down from the ladder, Cathy crossed the parking area to stand next
to her sister.
A gust of wind nearly tore Delia's hair off and she gave up
trying to control it. Sighing, she turned back to the banner. In
the meantime, the gust of wind and the weight of the large piece of
plastic had joined forces to pull the corner Cathy had worked so
hard on down by at least two inches.
"Cathy…?" Delia said in a monotone.
"I know, I know! The banner is crooked again," Cathy said,
dabbing her forehead with a pink hankie.
"Yes, but that wasn't what I was going to say. Cathy, tell me,
shouldn't there be a comma between 'welcome' and
'class'…?"
"If you want a comma, you climb the ladder to put it there,"
Cathy said and patted her sister's shoulder.
"Well, it's not that much of a problem, I just thought that it
needed… never mind." Harrumphing, Delia crossed her arms
over her chest.
"Sis, I really hope you'll put away your anal tendencies while
you're chatting to your old classmates… or were you planning
to point out all their faults?"
"Oh, come on, I don't do that!"
"You do it more than you think, Del."
"I'm a stickler for details, so what," Delia huffed, turning
away from her sister. When all Cathy did was to chuckle at her,
Delia strode over to the entrance to the village hall to see how
things were going inside.
At once, she took a clipboard from a makeshift table, leafed
through the pages and found her to-do list. After running her index
finger down the list, she made a check-mark next to 'put up
banner.'
Still holding the clipboard, Delia turned around in a circle to
take in the state of the rented village hall. She had accepted the
task of organising the class reunion thinking that it wouldn't pose
much of a problem for her - after all, she was used to brokering
thousands of forty-foot containers for Braithwaite Worldwide
Shipping - but a few days into the preparations, she'd had to admit
that she had bitten off more than she could chew and had asked her
sister and her husband to help out.
Even now, with only an hour and a half to go until the official
starting time, the village hall was a chaotic mess: the DJ had
arrived early and was putting up his gear right in the middle of
the main hall, the balloons and the rest of the party equipment
hadn't even been unpacked yet and the caterers hadn't shown up -
which was actually a good thing since the chairs and the tables
were standing unattended in the corner because the carpet had been
rolled back in two places to try to pad the uneven
surface.
"Sis, when are you going to change clothes? Or are you planning
to wear that purple and pink tracksuit for the reunion?" Cathy
said, stifling a snicker and poking her finger into her sister's
dubious outfit.
Delia turned around and shot her sister a dark look. "I'm
sorry, how old are you? Last time I looked, you were thirty, not
thirteen! Where's your husband, anyway? Brian was supposed to
have the carpet fixed by now!"
"He's yapping with the DJ… looks like they're arranging
the play list. Sis, I'm going to start unwrapping the balloons.
Can you handle the caterers if they arrive?"
"Sure, sure. Don't play with the helium."
"Ugh, I already have a mother…" Cathy said and hurriedly
moved away from Delia in case she was planning to
retaliate.
Rolling her eyes over her sister's silly games, Delia turned to
look at the pile of wooden boxes in the centre of the hall. They
were all marked 'Fragile', but that hadn't stopped the DJ from
piling them up three boxes high.
Behind the pile, the DJ and Brian Walsh - Cathy's husband - were
having an animated conversation while looking at several vinyl
albums. One of the albums the DJ was holding was by AC/DC, and
that made Delia bite her lip.
'If he starts playing heavy metal, I'm going to have a quiet
word in his ear. We agreed on eighties' pop. He cost me three
hundred pounds so I don't want any nonsense out of him,' she
thought, scrunching up her face.
When Brian finally noticed Delia standing in the centre of the
hall, he said a quick goodbye to the DJ and made his way over to
her. "You have a look in your eye that says you want to talk to
me…?" he said as he came up to stand next to
her.
Brian was thirty-six - which Delia thought was a bit too old for
her sister - and he was sporting a sandy-brown full beard that
clashed severely with the outfit he was wearing: pale grey
trousers, a white shirt and a narrow, black leather
tie.
"No, I want us to do something about the uneven floor so we can
get the carpet rolled back so we won't have to carry the bloomin'
buffet cart across the hall! The caterers are going to be here
shortly, Brian!"
"All righty. It shouldn't be too hard. I've looked at it and I
think it only needs a few old newspapers here and there. That
should level it out," Brian said, nodding.
"Well…?"
"Well, what?"
"Well, get on with it. Please," Delia said, adding the last word
almost as an afterthought.
"Anything for my darling wife's sister," Brian said with a grin,
rolling up his shirt sleeves.
---
Fifteen minutes later, Brian nudged the last section of the
chocolate brown carpet into place before wiping a few drops of
sweat off his brow. "And there we have it," he said, making a
sweeping gesture with his hand.
Looking at the carpet, Delia made a slight grimace that
signalled that she wasn't sure whether or not she actually liked
that shade of brown. "Excellent. Thanks, Brian," she said, taking
the clipboard and making a check-mark next to 'fix the floor!'
"Would you mind helping me with the tables? I can take the chairs
myself, and then you can go help Cathy with the balloons and the
rest of the fun stuff."
"Del, the tables are heavy. It's a job for men," Brian said and
waved the DJ over to them.
Delia's only reply was a raised eyebrow.
"Henry the Hit Machine and I will take care of it. Right,
Henry?" Brian said and patted the DJ's back. The bespectacled
Henry nodded reluctantly before shuffling off to get the first
table.
Looking at the many boxes that had been placed exactly where the
tables were supposed to be, Delia cleared her throat and raised her
hand. "Uh, Henry, before you start with the tables… I'm
sorry to tell you after you've had the trouble of putting up your
gear… but you were actually supposed to put it up on the
small stage down there," Delia said and pointed at a dais that had
been erected at the end of the hall.
"Oh…" Henry said, looking at his collection of massive
boxes containing hundreds of vinyl albums and
singles.
"Don't worry, I'll help you move 'em," Brian
said.
"Okay," Henry said and shuffled back to his wooden
boxes.
"How much did you pay for his services?" Brian whispered once
the DJ was out of earshot.
"Three hundred quid," Delia whispered back.
"Hm!"
"All right. I'll let you two strongmen have at it. And don't
forget, the tables are rented. If you scratch them, they won't
refund our deposit," Delia said on her way over to
Cathy.
"No problem! We're on top of everything!" Brian shouted,
giving Delia a thumbs-up.
"Gives me the shivers just thinking about it," Delia said under
her breath.
---
Clutching the clipboard, Delia walked over to the other side of
the village hall to check up on Cathy's progress. Once she got
there, she was astounded to see that her sister had already
inflated close to three dozen regular balloons and a handful of
colourful animals - two elephants, a donkey and a
crocodile.
"Cathy… wow, I can see that things are going just fine
here," Delia said, tucking the clipboard under her
arm.
"Yep. Two packs of balloons and six of those weird animal
things to go. Shouldn't take me too long."
"Good, because we don't have much time," Delia said, looking at
her watch. "And the helium…?"
"Oh, we have plenty left. Don't worry about that," Cathy said
as she finished inflating an eagle. Once it was done, she carried
it over to the small stage and tied the string to the bottom part
where it joined its distant relatives, almost creating a zoo-like
atmosphere.
"Thank you," Delia said and made a new check-mark. "If you
don't need me here, I'll go into the Ladies' and
change."
"Sure. If there's any drama, I'll just scream your name, like in
the old days."
"Ha. Ha. Ha. No, actually, that wasn't funny at all," Delia
said and spun around on her heel.
"Yes it was!"
After closing and locking the door to the Ladies' room, Delia
found the first peace and quiet of her entire day. Letting out a
sigh of relief, she walked down to the other end of the rest room,
past the five stalls and the huge mirror above the wash
basin.
The rest rooms were lined with cool, white tiles and everything
appeared to be squeaky clean and in good condition, something Delia
appreciated greatly because if there was one thing she couldn't
stand, it was grotty toilet facilities.
She and Cathy each had a dress bag containing their fancy frocks
hanging from a stainless steel pipe in the ceiling, and she quickly
went over to hers. Unzipping it, she looked at the outfit she had
chosen for the class reunion - flats, a pair of form-fitting
putty-coloured slacks, a green cotton shirt and a white
undershirt.
After removing the items from the bag and giving them a thorough
once-over, she decided against wearing the undershirt and put it
back into the dress bag.
'After all, it's okay to show some skin once every ten
years. Not that anyone will notice,' she thought as she took
off her trainers and slipped out of the pink and purple
tracksuit.
Three minutes later, she looked at the result in the mirror.
Running her hands up her thighs and around her bum, she worried
that the form-fitting slacks were far too revealing, but she
eventually came to the conclusion that the other women were going
to be dressed just as outrageously.
'It's just a sign of these over-sexed times,' she
thought as she buttoned her shirt, remembering to leave the top
three buttons undone to complete the image she wanted to convey.
'Hmmm… the shirt… inside or outside…?
Inside.'
To conclude her dolling-up, she reached for the small jewellery
box at the bottom of the dress bag. Once she had put on her
two-tier gold necklace that Cathy had given her for her
thirty-eighth birthday, she fluffed her long hair so it fell just
right, and took a step back so she could see herself in the
mirror.
"Well. Hmmm. Not too shabby, I suppose," she said out loud.
Shrugging, she scooped up her tracksuit and stuffed it into the
dress bag.
---
As Delia came out of the rest rooms, she stopped to let her
trained eye sweep over the various hotspots - Cathy had finished
inflating the balloons, and Brian and the DJ had shifted the gear
up on the stage and were busy moving the tables into the centre of
the hall, placing them in a horseshoe like
instructed.
'Great. All I need to do is to move the chairs, the small
lamps and the flower arrangements over to the tables… roll
the buffet cart over to the other wall and plug it into the wall
socket… oh, God, I hope the caterers arrive before the first
guests do,' she thought on her way over to the many stacks of
chairs.
Grabbing seven chairs, her lower back immediately sent out a
distress call, forcing her to reduce her ambitions and try again
with four. "Bugger, I'm getting old…" she said under her
breath. "Cathy? Cathy…?"
"I'm up here, Del," Cathy said from the small dais where she was
busy tying the final three inflated animals to the
stage.
"Would you mind coming down here to give your old, old, big
sister a hand with the chairs?"
After staggering over to the tables carrying an armful of
chairs, Delia quickly distributed the seats along the completed
wing of the horseshoe, remembering to leave room to place the
tablecloth, the battery powered lamps and the flower
arrangements.
"I'll be right there… wow! You should dress up more
often, Sis. You look smashing!" Cathy said and pulled her husband
over to the side so he could catch an eyeful of
Delia.
Brian nodded appreciatively, leering at his sister-in-law's long
legs and shapely bum. Cathy noticed and quickly elbowed him in the
ribs.
"Thanks, Cathy. Oh, the rest room is ready so you can go change
whenever you feel like it," Delia said and scooped up four more
chairs.
"I'll do that as soon as we have the tables ready," Cathy said
and took the quick way down by jumping off the stage instead of
going down the stairs.
"Careful doing that, Cathy. You might sprain an
ankle."
"Yes, mum."
"Cathy…" Delia said in a flat monotone - the one she
always used when Cathy was doing something that grated on her
nerves.
"Just teasing."
"I noticed."
After placing the final table, Brian stood up straight and wiped
some sweat off his brow. "That's the last of the tables, Del. The
horseshoe is complete."
"Thanks, Brian."
"You're welcome. Boy, I need a rest…" she said and
shuffled over to the couches that would later double as the
lounge.
Delia returned to the stacks of chairs and picked up four more.
On her way back to the tables, her eardrums were assaulted by a
horrendously loud screech from the DJ's loudspeakers that nearly
caused her to drop the entire load.
"What the HELL was that?" she howled, quickly stepping sideways
to keep her balance.
"Sorry," Henry the Hit Machine said from somewhere behind his
equipment. "Wrong jack."
"Wrong jack my foot," Delia growled as she distributed the
chairs along the furthest wing of the horseshoe.
When Cathy brought over the four remaining chairs, the two
sisters quickly put on the tablecloths, the battery powered lamps
and the flower arrangements, making sure - with military-like
precision - that the lamps and the ceramic flower pots were lined
up dead-centre on the tables.
"I need a cig before I change. Okay?" Cathy said, digging into
her pockets to find a crumpled pack of cigarettes.
"Sure, but wear a jacket. It's quite chilly out
there."
"Yes, mum."
Before Delia had time to make a snappy retort, Henry turned on
his microphone and tapped his index finger on it to make sure it
was on - the thumping sound it created reverberated through the
village hall. "Testing… testing… testi-"
*SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!*
"Gaaaah!" Delia howled, jumping a foot in the air and three feet
backwards. Once she landed, she put a hand on her wildly beating
heart and sent Henry a whole series of Evil Eyes.
"Sorry… wrong jack," the DJ said, fumbling with the many
cables.
"Del! Del! The caterers are here!" Cathy said, standing in the
main entrance with her unlit cigarette in her hand.
"Oh, damn, the buffet cart hasn't been plugged in yet!" Delia
said and threw her arms in the air. "Brian! Get the cart over to
the other wall and plug it in!" she barked, hurrying over to the
door to help her sister and the caterers carry in the many trays
and Styrofoam boxes.
"Yes, ma'am!" Brian said and sent Delia a salute that wouldn't
have cut it in any of the Queen's armed forces.
-*-*-*-
Once the buffet cart had been plugged in and filled to the brim
with all kinds of meats, potatoes, vegetables and salads, Delia
took a few steps back to get the big picture.
"Let's see… the pork chops, the roast beef, the bangers
and the chips are under the red lamps… the salads are all in
the cooling trays… mmmm. The veggies are fresh and
inviting… excellent," she mumbled to herself, pointing her
index finger at the various items to make sure that everything was
where it was supposed to be.
Moving over to the refrigerators, she looked at the beverages
through the glass doors, again moving her index finger down the
shelves. "… soft drinks, soft drinks, soft drinks, beer,
beer, beer, beer, beer, beer… good." Smiling, she made two
big check-marks next to 'food' and 'drink' on her to-do
list.
After making sure that they had plenty of red, white and
rosé wines, Delia dabbed her damp forehead and prayed for a
fun, relaxing evening.
"Testing… testing… testing…" Henry said from
the stage, making Delia roll her eyes repeatedly.
"Brian, can you turn the lights down, please?" Henry continued,
putting on one of his old vinyl records.
Standing at a panel that held all the switches for the lights,
Brian sent the DJ a thumbs-up and began to move the slider down
until the lights had been reduced to a very faint
level.
At the same time, Henry put the needle on the record and
activated his four spotlights that had been placed near the stage.
Soon, the unmistakable intro to Crockett's Theme from
Miami Vice started playing, accompanied by a blue, a green, a red
and a yellow spotlight that blinked and rotated to the relatively
slow rhythm of the timeless instrumental.
Despite the fact that it was created by only four spotlights,
the light show was quite spectacular and Delia found herself rather
impressed. As the song continued, her mind was flooded by sweet
memories of a party in 1986 where that very tune had formed the
soundtrack to an unforgettable couple of kisses, given to her by a
girl from her class that she'd had a baby-crush on.
'Vicky Baxter… God, I hope she shows up tonight. I
would so much like to see her again…' Delia thought,
sighing deeply. A split second later, the moment was ruined when
Brian turned the lights back up to full strength without
warning.
"Brian!" Delia barked, slamming her hand across her eyes that
had already adapted to the semi-darkness.
"Sorry!" Brian said, but the chuckle that followed gave away
that he wasn't being entirely honest.
Grumbling, Delia spun around and stomped over to the buffet
cart.
-*-*-*-
Slightly less than ten minutes later, the elderly lady arrived
that Delia had rented to handle the cloakroom - or rather, bribed
with the promise of two tickets to the opera.
"Miss Corbett?" the woman said, knocking on the doorjamb.
Vivian Harper, a retired secretary whom Delia had worked with in
the shipping company, kept waiting in the doorway, almost like she
didn't think it was appropriate to set foot in the village
hall.
"Oh, good evening, Mrs. Harper," Delia said and put down her
clipboard. She walked over to the door and gave the woman a
thorough handshake.
"It's certainly wet and cold tonight," Vivian said as she
turned around to step into the cloakroom that was located in a
small anteroom before the main hall.
"Yes. I really hope you won't get too cold out
here…?"
"Oh, no, Miss Corbett, that won't be a problem. I'm wearing
woolly bloomers."
"Oh… uh, good."
As soon as Vivian had taken off her parka revealing that she was
wearing an old-fashioned black and white dress, she emptied a
plastic bag of coat tags out on an old and slightly scruffy table.
"When you asked me to take care of the cloakroom, I thought up a
clever, little system that'll help me keep track of the clothes.
How many guests are you expecting, Miss Corbett?"
"Oh… we've sent out twenty-five invitations, but with
spouses et cetera, I think we'll be looking at forty
guests."
"All right," Vivian said and left fifty tags on the table to
have a little overhead.
"Well, thank goodness I bought a few extra coat hangers at
Woolworths this afternoon, because that lot over there wouldn't be
enough for half that number of guests," Vivian continued, pointing
at a small, sorry-looking batch of rusty coat hangers hanging on
the inside wall of the cloakroom.
"Oh… I… I hadn't noticed. I'm terribly sorry, Mrs.
Harper. Naturally, I'll compensate you."
"That's all right, dear, they were only £4.99 for fifty
plastic hangers. You needn't worry about me, everything will be
just fine," Vivian said and patted Delia's hand in a reassuring and
very maternal fashion.
"Oh, that's good to hear, Mrs. Harper."
"I'll just pop out to my car to fetch them before the first
guests arrive," Vivian said and put her parka back
on.
"You do that, Mrs. Harper. Thank you very much," Delia said and
turned away, happy that at least one part of the evening was
handled professionally.
A few minutes later - with the brand new coat hangers in action
- the first guests arrived with an excited laugh that made Delia
walk over to the entrance to see what was going on.
"DELIAAAAAAA!" a pretty redhead in a floral dress howled the
moment she saw Delia's characteristic shape turn up in the doorway.
Seconds later, the woman ran forward and practically threw herself
into Delia's open arms.
"GAWD! It's so good to see you, Del! Is everything all right?
Good Lord, you look fantastic in those trousers! Where did you buy
them? I wish I had your grace… look at me, I'm like the
Michelin Man… damn that chocolate, ha ha. Have you met my
husband yet? Jonathan… Jonathan, get over here, you need to
say hello to Delia, one of my best friends from my old
class!"
Biting her lip, Delia smiled tolerantly as the woman's
excitement didn't allow her to get a word in
edgewise.
"Hi, Delia. I'm Jonathan Rhodes," Jonathan said a great deal
more subdued than his wife.
"Hi, Jonathan. Hello, Evelyn. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Delia said and gave the excitable woman another hug.
"It certainly has! God, ten years! Can you believe it?
Looking at you, I can't! You look sensational!"
"Thank y-"
"How is your sister? She got married, didn't she? Oh, I need
to meet her. Is she still here?"
"Yes, she's-"
"Oh, fantabulous! We have so much to catch up on, Delia. I
can't wait to give you all the juicy details!" Evelyn said as she
hurried into the village hall.
"Evelyn, you need to leave your coat here… that's what the
wardrobe is for… Evelyn!" Jonathan said loudly to catch his
wife's attention.
"Oh! How clever," Evelyn said and hurried back to the
anteroom.
Smirking, Delia smoothed down her eyebrows. 'If I get such
a welcome from all my old classmates, I'll need a sedative before
the evening is over,' she thought, chuckling quietly to
herself.
-*-*-*-
The next few guests arrived with slightly less hullabaloo - save
for the occasional loud squeal bursting out of Evelyn when she met
one of her old friends - but the one person Delia was dying to see
hadn't turned up yet.
She kept checking her wristwatch, looking at the hands creeping
closer and closer to eight o'clock. They were still five invitees
short, but the village hall had filled up quite nicely and there
was a great buzz going already. Delia knew it would be unfair to
the others to keep them waiting for someone who might not show up,
so she decided to go ahead with the evening's plans.
Sighing, she moved away from the main entrance and walked over
to the tables. 'All right. It's not like we're going to lock
the doors like at a rock concert. The most important thing is that
they show up, not when,' she thought.
As she stood at her chair at the outside of the horseshoe, she
looked at her old classmates with a content, if amused, expression
on her face. With a single exception - namely Evelyn - it hadn't
taken them ten minutes to return to the old groupings, and she had
to chuckle when she noticed that the lines in the crowd were quite
sharply drawn.
Clearing her throat, she took a knife and tapped it on the side
of her glass to get everyone's attention.
"Ahem! May I have your attention, please! It's been twenty
years since we left school and ten years since we last had a
reunion party. Most of us haven't seen each other in the
intervening years, but looking at the way you lot mingle, who would
believe that…? Oh, Geoffrey, I see you've found the beer
already."
Laughing, Geoffrey Hutchins - a gardener working for the city
council - raised his Carlsberg to salute the
speaker.
"While we're on that subject, the soft drinks and the beer are
all in the refrigerator over there," - Delia pointed at the far
wall - "next to the buffet cart. Oh, and if some of you, Geoffrey,
feel like drinking more than your share, we have made an
arrangement with the local Constabulary who have set up a small
booth out in the car park. No, just kidding…
possibly."
The guests laughed appropriately, including Cathy who knew that
her sister was only half-joking - they had indeed contacted the
local police station, but they had been too understaffed to send a
Constable.
"Now, I'd like to introduce our DJ for the evening, Henry
Brunton, better known as Henry the Hit Machine… stand up,
please, Henry."
Henry had only just risen from his chair on the stage when Delia
continued: "Thank you, you may sit down again. Henry has promised
us an evening of wonderful music from the golden era known as the
eighties… you may recall it, we were still young and
beautiful then," Delia continued, earning herself a new round of
laughter.
"Well! All that's left to say is, turn down the lights, please,
Brian…" - Delia looked to her right where Brian quickly moved
the slider down to create a very cosy atmosphere. "and let's all
enjoy ourselves! The buff-"
A commotion at the door made Delia and everybody else crane
their necks to see what was going on. A rather overweight man and
his far slimmer wife were standing in the door, looking flushed and
sweaty. The man's tie had been shoved to the right and the top two
buttons of his shirt had been undone.
"Hi, Allan!" someone shouted.
"The bleedin' car got a bleedin' flat!" Allan Enfield groaned,
looking around like he was searching for something. "Did we miss
the buffet?!" he continued, hurrying over to the nearest available
chair while mopping his brow.
"No, you haven't, Allan," Delia said. "I was about to say that
the buffet is now open!"
A chorus of cheers rose from the guests and they all shot up
from their chairs to go over to the buffet cart and the
refrigerator. On the surface, Delia smiled at the comical sight,
but deep down, she was terribly disappointed that Vicky wasn't
there.
Cathy noticed her sister's long face and she walked around the
horseshoe to offer her some comfort. "Something wrong, sis?" she
said, putting a hand on Delia's elbow.
"Oh… no. No, I was just hoping that… that a girl
from my old class would have been here. Oh, well. Perhaps she's
busy," Delia said and walked over to stand in the line snaking its
way back from the buffet cart.
-*-*-*-
Thirty minutes later, the reunion party was in full swing - and
in high spirits - to the crispy backdrop of the Eurythmics' Be
Yourself Tonight-album when a figure in a dark overcoat
appeared in the doorway to the hall. After going back to the
cloakroom to leave the coat, the figure walked into the hall
completely unnoticed by her former classmates.
The figure went over to the buffet cart and took a plate and
some cutlery. After pausing at the greasy Cumberland sausages and
the dark brown roast beef, the woman scooped up a large spoonful of
mixed salad and put several black olives on top. Grabbing a
carbonated mineral water from the refrigerator, she made her way
around the horseshoe, walking past several empty chairs while
seemingly searching for one person in particular.
Delia had been busy catching up with her old classmates,
enjoying a glass of chilled white wine and a full plate of cold
cuts and potato salad. She had just finished talking to Allan - who
had turned out to be more entertaining than she remembered him to
be - when a dark figure placed a chair on the wrong side of the
horseshoe and sat down.
Sticking her fork into a potato drenched in dressing and
wondering who in the world the new person was, Delia got the shock
of her life when the other woman moved her face into the
battery-powered lamp's cone of light.
The fork never made it all the way to Delia's mouth but got
stuck roughly halfway there, suspended in mid-air as Delia's hand
froze. The dressing began to drip off the drenched potato,
eventually joined on the plate by the potato itself.
"Hello, Del," the other woman said in the husky voice Delia
remembered so well - mostly from reality, but also from a few
fairly raunchy fantasies she'd had over the years.
"Oh… my… God…" Delia breathed, putting the
fork down on the plate. "Vicky… I'm… you are…
God!"
Vicky Baxter was wearing a dark blue pinstriped trouser suit
over an ivory blouse with a plunging neckline that gave plenty of
opportunity to look at her chest and the very top of her cleavage.
A thin leather necklace with a gold pendant graced her throat, and
she had two, small, gold-and-dark-blue studs in her
ears.
Vicky had always been one of the youngest in the class, and even
now at thirty-seven, she looked a decade younger than most of the
others. Her hair, typically spiky and cut very short in the old
days, had turned into a voluminous, honey-blonde fleece that framed
her delicate, elfin-like features perfectly.
"Remember me?" Vicky said; her emerald green eyes sparkling with
glee over Delia's reaction.
"Uh… yes. Yes, I do. My God, Vicky, you look…
look… uh, you've turned into a very attractive woman," Delia
said and took a long swig from her wine. The logic of the sentence
soon caught up with her, and she clamped her hand across her mouth
in embarrassment. "Uh, not that you weren't attractive when you
were a teenager, you know… ha, ha," she continued in a croaky
voice.
"Thank you. You look dashing yourself, Del. It's certainly been
a while, hasn't it?"
"It has. We haven't seen each other since the day we left school
in June 1988," Delia breathed. 'But I never stopped thinking
about you,' she continued in her mind.
"That sounds about right."
"Yes, your parents moved away soon after. Before we even had
time to say a proper goodbye," Delia said, feeling that her head
was swimming; not just from the fatigue and the wine she'd had, but
from the near-surreal experience of sitting opposite a woman she
hadn't seen in twenty years.
A horrible thought entered Delia's mind and she quickly reached
below the table to pinch her thigh. When Vicky didn't vanish into
thin air, she breathed a sigh of relief and took a new swig from
the wine.
"Yeah, I remember it well. And then I fell ill for the tenth
anniversary get-together. All in all, it's been a while," Vicky
said and leaned forward to put her elbows on the
table.
Then blue locked onto green, sending a pleasantly warm wave
rushing through Delia's body. At that moment, she knew that nothing
short of a nuclear blast would be able to tear her attention away
from Vicky's green orbs.
After keeping eye contact for nearly half a minute, Vicky broke
out into a charming, crooked grin that made her already pretty face
obtain a movie star-like quality. Grinning, she stuck her fork into
her salad and began to eat.
Delia gulped several times and took a long swig from her wine to
settle down from the giddy heights she had found herself at only
moments earlier. When she wanted to pour herself a new glass, she
realised that she had emptied the bottle all by
herself.
"Vicky… would you like to have something else to drink
other than mineral water?" Delia said, rising from her
chair.
"No, thank you. I'm fine," Vicky replied, popping one of the
black olives into her mouth. Delia just caught a fleeting glimpse
of a pink tongue pulling the olive inside, but by association, it
was enough to make her knees knock. Clearing her throat nervously,
she pushed her chair back and made a beeline for the
refrigerator.
---
Upon her return to the horseshoe holding a new bottle of white
wine, Delia saw to her great annoyance that Evelyn Rhodes had
discovered that Vicky had turned up. The easily excitable woman
practically sat in Vicky's lap as they shared a trip down memory
lane, and Delia felt a pang of something she grudgingly recognised
as jealousy.
Grumbling to herself, she walked around the horseshoe and sat
down at the seat where her plate was. After pouring herself a new
glass of white wine, she picked up her fork and quickly wolfed down
the remaining food.
Pushing the plate away, Delia dabbed her mouth on a napkin and
leaned back in the chair. After a few seconds, she began to observe
the honey-blonde woman sitting opposite her.
Over the years, Delia had thought a great deal about the kisses
she and Vicky had shared that evening at the party - in fact, she
felt that those kisses had opened her eyes to who and what she
really was; that they had started a process that had culminated
nearly four years later when she finally came out to her parents
and her sister.
'But how does Vicky view those kisses? Were they just meant
to be a small escapade at a drunken party, or were they meant
seriously…? That look we shared before… God, that look
gave me the biggest buzz I've had in
years…'
Evelyn eventually gave Vicky a small hug and moved out into the
semi-darkness. Vicky soon turned back to her salad and resumed
eating, occasionally sending Delia a few sly looks.
Up on the stage, Be Yourself Tonight faded out, and
Henry the Hit Machine put on something a bit more lightweight,
Madonna's True Blue album from 1986. Most people cheered,
but there were one or two groans, leading to more laughs - some
things never changed.
Delia felt a strong need to reconnect with Vicky, but just as
she opened her mouth to speak to her, another of their old
classmates, Elizabeth Stewart, appeared out of the semi-darkness to
greet the honey-blonde beauty.
Sighing, Delia leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over
her chest. Soon, she had worked herself into such a world class
pout that she didn't even notice Cathy tapping on her
shoulder.
"Sis!" Cathy said into Delia's ear, making Delia twitch and turn
around.
"Whut?! Cathy? Something wrong?"
"You're pouting like someone stole your last lollipop. Time to
fess up, sis. What's bothering you?"
"Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."
"All right. If you say so…?"
"I do. It's nothing."
"Hmmm. I'm not convinced. Anyway, there's still some cold cuts
left. Do you want me to fetch you a second helping?" Cathy said and
put a hand on her sister's shoulder.
"No, thank you, I'm just fine, Cathy. Thank you for
caring."
Smiling, Cathy turned around to get back to her husband. At the
other side of the table, Elizabeth gave Vicky a goodbye-hug and
moved away. Delia perked up, hoping it meant that she'd finally
get a chance to talk to Vicky… but then Geoffrey Hutchins put
his indispensable can of beer down on the table, gave Delia's back
a big slap with his meaty hand and began to speak to
her.
Delia knew it would be terribly rude of her to ignore Geoffrey -
and it was a class reunion, after all - so she sighed inwardly and
turned around in her chair to talk to her old classmate who had
already become slightly inebriated.
---
Ten minutes later, the stars finally aligned and both Delia and
Vicky were left alone. Pushing away her empty plate, Vicky leaned
forward to get just a little bit closer to Delia.
"Del, I know you've probably said it half a dozen times already
tonight, but I didn't want to eavesdrop. What do you do for a
living?"
"Oh, that's all right, Vicky. I'm a broker in a shipping
company called Braithwaite Worldwide. I stay on top of where our
containers are and establish contact between clients… that
sort of thing. All over the world, really."
"Sounds exciting. Do you speak several languages,
then?"
"Well… I don't want to brag, but yes."
"Like?"
"We have a lot of business in Hamburg so I speak German pretty
fluently, and a little bit of French and some Spanish," Delia said,
smoothing out a non-existent crease in the
tablecloth.
"I find that very sexy, Del," Vicky purred.
Delia's finger froze solid and she looked up at Vicky to see if
the honey-blonde woman was making fun of her. The look on Vicky's
face told another story, and it immediately sent a warm buzz
travelling through Delia's system.
"Ah, uh… well…"
"I'm a book illustrator," Vicky said with a smile, pouring the
last of her mineral water into a small glass.
"Oh, really? That's right, you were always carrying a
sketchbook, weren't you?"
"Yes! Yes, I was. I still have most of them, apart from one or
two that were lost when we moved."
"Oh… what kind of books do you do? Children's
literature?" Delia said, putting her elbows on the table and
leaning forward. She felt an urge to take Vicky's hands in her own,
but at the same time, she knew it would be wildly
inappropriate.
"I've done most things… children's literature, a reissue
of the complete Sherlock Holmes, a few biographies… I'm using
VIX as my signature. Perhaps you've seen some of my
work?"
"I'm sorry, Vicky, I have very little time to read b-" Delia
said, stopping abruptly when she remembered seeing that signature
in a book that was as far removed from Sherlock Holmes as was
humanly possible. "Wait a minute…? VIX?" she
croaked.
"Yes."
Delia moved even further across the table, prompting Vicky to do
the same.
"You worked on 'The Single Woman's One-Handed Guide to a Better
Sex Life', didn't you?" Delia whispered hoarsely.
Vicky grinned cheekily and let out a laugh that was so saucy it
made Delia's nape hairs stand on edge. "Yes, I did. Do you have a
copy of that?"
Stunned, Delia nodded like in a trance.
"That was a fun book to work on. I was particularly proud of
the talking bearded clam," Vicky said and drained her mineral
water.
Delia just blinked, remembering the illustration - it had been
drawn in a style that was supposed to invoke a sense of the
slightly ridiculous movies they had watched in Sex Education in
school. "God, I remember that one. The caption said… what
was it… oh, 'treat me with respect and I'll give you a
lifetime's worth of pleasure.' "
"Exactly!" Vicky said and laughed again.
"Unbelievable…"
"Well, I have to admit it's not the illustration people usually
remember."
"I'll bet," Delia said, still thinking about the unusual
image.
For a few heartbeats, the music and the din of the other guests
came between the two women, making Delia lean back in the seat, too
chicken to go ahead with the plan of taking Vicky's hands in her
own.
When Vicky started looking around, Delia thought that the
green-eyed beauty was getting bored with her. She began to bite her
lip, trying to come up with something intelligent that would keep
her dream girl at her table.
"I've kept a few drawings of you, actually. From my old
sketchbooks," Vicky suddenly said, putting her hand on top of
Delia's.
To Delia, the physical contact made her feel like she had been
struck by lightning - electricity swept through her system, going
up, down, left and right until it finally pooled at the lowest part
of her stomach. A warm tingle spread out simultaneously from her
hand and her centre, sending a nice, warm shiver down her
back.
"Uh… really?" Delia croaked, using her free hand to reach
for her glass. She took a long swig from the white wine to cool
down, but Vicky's hand continued to rest on top of hers, making it
a futile exercise.
"Yes. I hope you're not freaked out by that…? You face
suggests that you are," Vicky said, cocking her
head.
"Oh, no-no-no-no-no, it's all right. I think it's cute,
actually. Uh… uh, so… so you draw people as well?"
Delia said to get back to safe ground.
"Oh, yes."
"Do you think it would be possible for you to make a drawing of
my sister and her husband? Perhaps from their wedding photo? It's
my sister's birthday next month, and I'd like to give her a unique
present."
"Oh, that's a fabulous idea, Del! That's so sweet!" Vicky said
and broke out in a very broad smile that once again transformed her
face. Smiling, she started moving her thumb across the back of
Delia's hand in a simple, yet affectionate gesture.
"Wh-what's your regular rate?" Delia croaked, feeling that
Vicky's soft touch was setting the skin on the back of her hand on
fire.
"Oh, please! Do you really think I would charge an old friend?
Come on, Del!" Vicky said with a laugh.
When Vicky's hand finally moved away from Delia's, Delia quickly
leaned back in her seat and put her hands on her thighs to keep
them as far away from the honey-blonde temptress as possible.
"Okay. I can mail you a copy of the photo… if you're not too
busy, of course…?"
"I'm not particularly busy right now. And besides, I always have
room for something like that."
Delia nodded, licking her lips. She had no idea what to say or
do, but the thought that she would keep in touch with Vicky warmed
her heart.
Up on the stage, Henry the Hit Machine faded down the Madonna
album before it was over, making everyone turn around to see what
the DJ was doing.
Jean Cresswell, the only one of their old teachers who had
wanted to attend the reunion party, stepped up on the stage and
tapped her index finger on the microphone, creating a wild screech
that made everyone cover their ears.
"Oh…! It works. Splendid. I have written a short
speech…" Jean said, holding up two closely written pages that
sent a ripple of sighs through the guests who vividly remembered
similar events in the past. "… that I would like to recite
to you. However, my eyesight isn't as good as it once was, so I
would like to have a bit more light, please," she
continued.
At once, Brian rose from his chair and went over to the light
panel. Moving the slider upwards, he quickly found a level that the
retired teacher could read by.
Jean quickly sent Brian a polite smile and began to shuffle her
papers. "Thank you. All right. Ahem. Twenty years ago, when we
said goodbye on the last day of school, I'm sure that some…
or maybe even most of you… felt elated to finally get away
from that stuffy old bat Miss Cresswell. Well, children, have you
considered that you are as old now as I was back
then?"
Embarrassed snickers filled the hall, even from Delia and Vicky
who had been as guilty of thinking that as all the
others.
"Yes, it's true, I was thirty-nine on that June day all those
years ago. Now, at fifty-nine, it pleases me tremendously to see
that you look exactly like I did back then."
"The clothes are different!" someone shouted from the back
row.
"Ah, yes, but do you really think I wore a starched skirt in my
spare time?" Jean Cresswell said strongly, earning herself a round
of laughter.
"Back on topic: The young, slightly scruffy-looking teenagers I
said goodbye to twenty years ago have turned into important,
respectable citizens with important, respectable jobs. That makes
me proud because I like to think that I had a hand in shaping you,
or at least showing you how to break into the careers you wanted to
pursue."
'That's very true,' Delia thought. 'Miss Cresswell
really did teach me a lot of important things. I wonder if I
should tell her that I had a crush on her…? Nah, I better
not… it would only freak her out.'
"…lia, would you please come to the stage?" Jean Cresswell
said.
Delia snapped out of her thoughts and looked around with a foggy
expression on her face, not sure if her name had been mentioned or
not.
After a few seconds had gone by without any activity whatsoever,
Jean Cresswell cleared her throat and went back to the microphone.
"Perhaps the old girl has fallen asleep?" she said, prompting a
huge laugh from all the guests, Vicky included.
Scrunching up her face, Delia rose from her chair and walked
around the horseshoe to get to the small flight of stairs. On her
way there, her old classmates began to clap, cheer and shout her
name, a gesture that left her face beetroot-red. Once she was next
to her old teacher on the stage, she thrust her hands into her
pockets to feel a modicum of comfort.
Unfortunately, the first words out of Jean Cresswell's mouth
were: "Hands out of your pockets, please, Delia," which brought on
a new round of laughter.
"No, seriously," the teacher continued. "Let's hear it for
Delia. She has worked tirelessly to make this evening a memorable
one. Delia Corbett, Ladies and Gentlemen."
Delia's former classmates all whistled, cheered and applauded
her, almost blowing the roof off the village hall. As the cheers
died down, someone stole the moment by whistling a wolf call that
rang out loud and clear.
Raising an eyebrow, Delia looked from one person to the next,
trying to figure out who the whistler had been. Her eyes soon fell
on Vicky who sat with an expression on her face that wouldn't have
looked out of place on a little devil.
Chuckling, Delia waved to her former classmates and then made
her way back down the stairs with her arm hooked inside Jean
Cresswell's. At the same time, Brian turned the lights back down
and Henry resumed playing the Madonna album.
After making sure that Miss Cresswell was seated comfortably,
Delia went back to her own chair and sat down with a bump.
Snatching a napkin, she dabbed her damp sweaty forehead, neck and
throat. As she crumpled it up and threw it away, she noticed that
Vicky was leaning against the table, still wearing the same cheeky
grin.
"I hope I didn't embarrass you too much," Vicky said, offering
Delia a fresh napkin.
"Oh, no. It's all right."
Vicky made a sweeping gesture with her hand and leaned in
towards Delia. "Do you think they know?"
"About what, exactly?"
"That you and I like girls?"
Delia bit her bottom lip, needing a few moments to allow Vicky's
words to sink in.
"So you do like girls?" she said hoarsely, putting her hands up
on the table and hoping that Vicky would hold them
again.
"Yes. Ever since day one. I'm not mistaken, am I? I could see
it in your eyes when we spoke before, but you know, sometimes that
doesn't mean anything."
"You're not mistaken," Delia said quietly. Taking a deep
breath, she reached out for Vicky's hands and took them in her own.
Vicky didn't pull back, something that Delia was grateful for.
"They certainly know about me… I was in the spotlight at the
last reunion party. You… I doubt it."
Giving Delia's hands a small squeeze, Vicky licked her lips and
leaned in even further. "Are you seeing someone?"
Delia just shook her head.
"Me, neither."
"Oh, I find that very hard to believe, Vicky. Here you are,
looking like you've just stepped out of a fashion magazine…"
- Delia paused - "…or my wettest dream…" she added
under her breath.
"Thank you. Well, it's true."
"The ladies don't know what they're missing…" Delia said,
shaking her head.
Vicky laughed out loud and gave Delia's hands another little
squeeze. "Oh, Del! I could say the same thing about you. Look at
you! Twenty years ago, you were all arms and legs, but now…
now, you're a very attractive woman."
"Thanks, Vicky. I think you've had too much mineral water,
though."
"Mmmm. You know, a girl like me could very easily fall for a
girl like you," Vicky said, locking her green eyes onto Delia's
blue ones.
"Oh, good heavens…!" Delia said, laughing
nervously.
"I meant every word, Del."
Delia's laughter soon died away when she realised that Vicky was
being deadly serious. 'I've waited twenty years to find out if
those kisses she gave me were real… I guess they were. God,
could it be…? Could we really be meant for each
other…? Oh, for goodness' sakes, Del, don't be a fool! This
sort of thing only happens in pulp novels.'
"The way people are reacting around us, I'd say the food has run
out. Do you want to come over to the lounge and have a drink and a
chat, Del?" Vicky said, tickling the back of Delia's
hands.
Rendered speechless by the surprising direction her thoughts
were taking her, Delia just shrugged and got up from the
chair.
"Oh, I'd love to, Vicky, but I can't right now. I need to help
my sister and her husband collect the dishes. They belong to the
caterer and they'll charge us extra if we haven't gathered them
up," she said with a half-smile.
"Ohhh… All right…"
"But, tell you what, I'll meet you over there in ten minutes.
Okay?"
"Sure. I'll keep a seat warm for you," Vicky said, adding a
wink. She got up from her chair and joined the group of people who
were all jostling for a place in the two couch
arrangements.
Delia kept standing at her place at the horseshoe, looking
dreamily at Vicky's rather healthy shape as it moved into the
semi-darkness - at her golden hair, her petite, but fit, frame, her
wonderfully sculpted rear end and the two-inch heels she was
wearing.
Licking her lips, Delia found herself wishing that something
would indeed grow between herself and Vicky. 'It doesn't even
need to be a relationship in the classic sense… I'd be
perfectly happy just to see her once in a while… at least,
more often than once every twenty years…'
"The bar is open, let the Cocktail Hour begin!" someone shouted
from the bar cabinet next to the couch arrangements, quickly
followed by a loud cheer from the guests.
Chuckling, Delia began to collect the dirty dishes, hoping to do
it as quickly as possible so she could get back to
Vicky.
---
Fifteen minutes later, the buffet cart had been unplugged,
cleared out and wiped down, and the used glasses and dishes had
been put into specially designed plastic boxes.
As Delia was wiping her hands on a towel, Allan Enfield and his
wife came up to her. The large man held out his arms and dragged
Delia into a crushing bear hug that left her quite
winded.
"Thanks for everything, Del, it's been a fantastic evening. Me
and the missus need to go home now, we only booked the baby sitter
until ten. Can't leave junior alone for too long, eh?" Allan said,
thumping Delia's shoulder.
"Well, we haven't heard any fire engines yet, so I'm sure he and
your house are safe," Delia joked, much to Allan's
amusement.
"Har! Well, here's hoping! Anyway, let's try to stay in
touch, right?"
"Oh, absolutely. I have your email address."
"Excellent. Thanks again, Del. It's been loads-a-fun," Allan
said and thumped Delia's other shoulder, balancing out the stinging
pain.
After Delia had waved goodbye to Allan and his wife, she went
back to the buffet cart to check that everything was in good order.
Satisfied that it was, she made a beeline for the Ladies' room -
the bottle of white wine she had emptied was causing her bladder to
send out a distress call.
---
Once Delia returned to the lounge, she noted to her
disappointment that all the seats had been taken. Vicky was
involved in a cheerful conversation with Evelyn and Miss Cresswell,
and even Geoffrey - holding his indispensable can of beer - was
chatting with another old classmate, Julian Thompson and his
wife.
Shrugging, Delia moved over to stand behind the couch Geoffrey
was sitting in and put her hands on the backrest. She was able to
pick up a few words of the conversation, and one in particular
caught her interest - 'Vicky'.
Geoffrey, noting that Delia was standing behind him, shuffled to
his left and patted the seat next to him. "Come on, luv. We need
your professional opinion on a very important
topic."
"Uh, okay," Delia said and walked around the
couch.
"Beer?" Geoffrey said as Delia sat down.
"No, thank you. I've had wine."
"Ugh, I can't stand that. Anyway, me and Julian were
talking… and Julian's wife Suzie thinks so, too, by the
way…" Geoffrey said and pointed at a pretty twenty-something
brunette who was practically sitting on Julian's lap "… that
our old classmate Vicky has, how shall I put it, grown since we saw
her last."
"Grown?"
"Uh-huh," Geoffrey quipped, cupping his hands in front of his
chest.
Delia furrowed her brow and looked across the lounge at Vicky
who was still talking with their old teacher. Looking closer,
Delia could see what Geoffrey meant. Licking her lips, she shrugged
and turned back to the group she was with.
"Possibly."
"Oh, there's no doubt about it. They're fakes. She's had a
boob job," Julian's wife Suzie said. Suzie was quite well-endowed
herself - wearing a bright red, rather deeply cut V-neck blouse -
and Delia had to bite back a comment about the apparent fakeness of
the woman's own chest.
"I wasn't aware that you knew Vicky from school, Suzie?" Delia
said in a steely voice that almost betrayed the temper bubbling up
inside her.
"Oh, no, I don't… but Julian has shown me a lot of your
old school photographs. She was definitely smaller
then."
"She was a teenager then, you know."
"Oh, sure, but still…"
"Mmmm," Delia said and grabbed a handful of peanuts from a bowl.
'I'd like to see *your* old school photographs, brat. Who
cares if Vicky has had something done. She looks bloody
fantastic.'
To her left, Geoffrey drained the last drops out of the
Carlsberg and let out a resounding belch. Delia took that as her
cue and left the couch.
"Oi, Del, darling… wouldya mind fetching me a new
beer?"
'Get it yourself, you miserable drunken lout,' Delia
thought, but somehow managed to screw a smile on her lips. "I'll
see what I can do, Geoffrey."
"Thanks, luv."
---
Once Delia had delivered a new beer to Geoffrey, she made her
way over to Vicky. The honey-blonde beauty was still talking to
Jean Cresswell, but Delia dearly wanted to connect with her, so she
sat down on the armrest of a couch opposite the two women,
determined to wait for her turn.
She had never seen Miss Cresswell so loose and relaxed, and she
started wondering if the rumours floating around the school back
then had been true - that her old teacher was one of 'those' women.
'God, what a horrible way to put it… why can't people
just accept that we are who we are. Why does everyone insist on
putting some condescending label on us?'
When Jean Cresswell happened to look up and lock eyes with
Delia, all doubt was erased in Delia's mind, and she sent her old
teacher a knowing smile.
Jean returned the smile and patted Vicky's hand. "Well, I've
had a wonderful evening, but now it's bedtime for us old girls,"
she said and got up.
"Oh, not already, Miss Cresswell, it's only a little past ten!"
Vicky said, putting down a drink and getting up from the
couch.
"I'm afraid so, Vicky. I need to get home to my
family."
"Well, goodbye, Miss Cresswell," Delia said and pulled her old
teacher into a warm embrace. "Seeing you tonight brought back a lot
of memories. Not to mention that it was a lot of fun.
"
"I agree, Delia. And… well, perhaps we could meet on a
rainy Sunday afternoon for a cuppa and a chat? The three of
us…?" Jean said, looking at both Delia and
Vicky.
"Sounds like a great idea in my opinion," Vicky said, wearing a
broad grin.
Delia nodded enthusiastically. "And mine. Get home safely, Miss
Cresswell. Do you want me to walk you to your car?"
"Young lady, I'm perfectly capable of putting one foot ahead of
the other. I'm not that old! And with that, children, I bid you
farewell."
"How about a compromise, Miss Cresswell? I'll walk you to the
cloakroom to give you a proper send-off," Delia said with a
smile.
"All right. But only because it's you," Jean said, returning the
smile.
A few minutes later, Delia came back and sat down next to Vicky
who had opened a bottle of white wine in the
meantime.
After pouring wine into a glass, Vicky leaned back and crossed
her legs. Cocking her head, she shot Delia a devious gaze that was
almost an invitation to mischief.
Delia didn't know how to respond to that look, so she settled
for grabbing a handful of peanuts.
Up on the stage, Henry the Hit Machine faded down the album he
had been playing - Nik Kershaw's The Riddle - and turned
on his microphone.
"Ladies and gents, it's coming! In fifteen minutes, this hall
will be turned into a pukka disco! And! It will be sent back in
time! Back! Back to the eighties! Stand by for pop!" he said,
yanking his effects slider up and down to distort his voice - well,
that was the plan, anyway. In reality, it sounded like a child
messing around with a £10 synthesiser. Once he had made his
announcement, he continued playing the album.
"Can I tempt you to dance a little later on?" Vicky
said.
"Oh, I'm not the world's greatest dancer. My legs tend to get
in the way," Delia said with a shrug.
"That's a deal, then."
"Oh, but…"
"We dance. End of discussion," Vicky said, tapping her knuckles
on Delia's knee.
"Well… okay. But you need to watch your
toes."
"I'll be careful. Del… what was it Geoffrey said about me
before? I noticed that you gave me a thorough look when you were
talking to him."
Delia's face was instantly covered by a deep red blush, and she
looked away, unable to hold Vicky's intense gaze. "Oh, he was just
being Geoffrey."
"I have an inkling what it might have been about. The answer is
yes, I did have something done."
"Vicky…" Delia said in a monotone.
"No, it's all right. On my twenty-first birthday, I decided
that I no longer wanted to resemble an ironing board… and I
had them enlarged. I've never regretted it, in fact, it was the
best thing I could have done. It gave my self-confidence a
tremendous boost and it made me blossom as a woman," Vicky said,
flicking her hair back from her face.
"Please, Vicky, I'm not judging you."
"I know you're not, but Geoffrey definitely was. Anyway, I just
wanted to tell you the truth so you didn't have to rely on
half-baked fantasies from the men's room," Vicky said and took
Delia's hands in her own.
"Thank you. I appreciate that."
"You're welcome. Isn't it strange how people instantly revert to
their old personalities? Look at them, it's as if the twenty years
didn't happen at all."
"I know exactly what you mean," Delia said, looking at her
former classmates.
"The only difference is that twenty years ago, we all
smoked… and now, hardly anyone does."
"At least we got smarter on that account," Delia said with a
laugh.
Humming along to the song the DJ was playing, Vicky started
toying with Delia's long digits; pulling and squeezing them, and
running the tips of her fingers up the outside and down the inside.
Once the fingers had been thoroughly teased, she rolled Delia's
shirt sleeve up and moved her hand up Delia's right arm, sliding
her knuckles across the pulse point at the wrist before moving
further upwards.
This sweet torture sent wave after wave of pleasure and heat
through Delia, and she had to slam her mouth shut to stop an
embarrassing moan from escaping her lips. After a minute or so of
squirming in her seat, she couldn't take it anymore and put her
hand on Vicky's to still her movements.
"Vicky, please… it's… it's not that I don't like it,
but… someone might look at us, and…"
"If they do, they'll see two old friends playing with each
other's fingers," Vicky whispered into Delia's ear.
"God, please, Vicky, this is so unreal… I've dreamt of
it, but… it isn't the right time. I'm sorry," Delia said and
removed Vicky's hand from her arm.
"All right."
After taking several deep breaths to calm down, Delia turned to
face Vicky. Her eyes immediately sought out the blonde's emerald
green orbs, her cute button nose and, most importantly, her
graceful lips. Feeling her mouth go bone dry, Delia had to
mentally slap herself silly to resist diving down and claiming
those lips in a searing kiss.
Vicky grinned, seemingly reading Delia's mind. "Hold that
thought. I need to go to the Ladies' room," she said and got up
from the couch.
Delia could only nod, not quite believing the unexpected twists
and turns the evening had thrown at her. 'I've been dreaming
about this very moment for more than twenty years… and now
that it's here, I balk! Of course, I wasn't planning on having an
audience…' she thought, looking at the other
guests.
Bringing a fresh breeze and a few drops of rain with her from
the outside, Cathy put a half-smoked cigarette into a crumpled pack
and sat down next to her sister. After a short while, she started
staring at the comical expression on Delia's face.
"What's with you, sis?" Cathy sad, leaning in to put a hand on
Delia's thigh.
"Huh?"
"You have a strange look on your face. Are you
drunk?"
"Of course not!"
"Then what? I'm all ears if you want to dish some gossip,"
Cathy said and snuggled up next to her sister.
"You are far, far too young to understand what we adults are up
to," Delia said in a maternal voice, moving a lock of hair behind
Cathy's ear.
"Oh, puh-lease! Did you forget that I'm the only one of us who
has a sex life?"
"God, Cathy!" Delia said, making a horrified
face.
"Tell me what's up between you and Vicky or I'll tell you all
about what Brian and I do when we want to have a little fun!" Cathy
whispered, adding a saucy wink.
"One more word out of you and it's off to bed without dinner,"
Delia threatened, but even to her own ears, it sounded
pathetic.
"Well…?"
"We were just… just…" Delia said, shrugging.
"Nothing much, just…"
"Oh, I get it."
"No, I don't think you do, actually."
"Sis, while you were busy moving the plates over to the buffet
cart, Vicky came to me and asked a few questions about
you."
"Oh…?" Delia leaned forward; her interest suddenly
piqued.
"She asked if I knew what you thought of her."
"And you said…?" Delia said in her patented flat
monotone.
"I told her that you were cuh-razy about her," Cathy said with a
juvenile snicker.
"Oh, Cathy!" Delia said and slapped her forehead with an audible
*smack*.
"You are! Don't try to deny it, I can see it all over your face
when you look at her."
"Cathy, I'm thirty-eight years old and, believe it or not, I do
know my way around these things. I don't need you to play
matchmaker, okay?"
"Fine, fine… but don't growl at me tonight when we drive
home… alone… again."
"I won't 'cos you and Brian will be walking!" Delia said and
crossed her arms over her chest.
"Hm!" Cathy said and stomped off towards the other end of the
lounge.
"Hm," Delia echoed, grabbing a handful of
peanuts.
---
Not long after, Henry the Hit Machine once again faded down the
album he was playing and began to fiddle with the effects
slider.
"Ladies and gents, it's now! It's here! We're back! Back in
the eighties!" he said, cueing Europe's The Final
Countdown. Moments later, he activated the spotlights,
creating a wall of dancing blue, green, red and yellow lights on
both sides of the stage.
At the same time, Brian worked the slider for the hall's lights,
turning it so far down that the light levels were reduced to a
greyish-brown haze that made the spotlights stand out even
more.
Most of the guests cheered and hurried over to the makeshift
dance floor that was located between the stage and the horseshoe.
Once the song's long intro was over, they began to wiggle and jump
about to the cheesy classic.
Still sitting in the couch, Delia groaned loudly over Henry's
choice of music, but couldn't keep her foot from tapping the beat.
"Oh, this is too gruesome! I didn't even like that song when it was
new!" she said out loud to no one in particular.
Without warning, Vicky came tearing back through the hall,
grabbed Delia's hands and pulled her to her feet.
"Come on! It's the Final Countdown!" she said, forcibly
dragging the reluctant Delia out to the dance floor. "Follow my
lead," she continued, planting both hands on Delia's
sides.
At first, Delia groaned wildly in protest, but before long - to
her great surprise - her hips began to move on their own accord,
and she was soon dancing to the best of her ability.
---
Thirty minutes later, Delia leaned against the refrigerator -
flushed and sweaty, but enjoying herself. Taking one of the last
bottles of mineral water from the shelf, she quickly unscrewed the
cap and drained half of it in one gulp.
Vicky stood next to her, still gently wiggling back and forth to
the beat of Frankie Goes To Hollywood.
"Some water?" Delia said and held out the bottle, but Vicky just
shook her head, making her honey-blonde locks fall around her
face.
"Deliaaaaa! Come dance with me!" Evelyn said, practically
throwing herself into Delia's arms.
"Oh, but-"
"No, come on, it'll be fun, just like old times! Come on!"
Evelyn said and pulled Delia away from the
refrigerator.
At the very last second before she was manhandled onto the dance
floor, Delia managed to hand Vicky the bottle of mineral water,
earning herself a broad grin and a thumbs-up.
As Frankie's Relax segued into Two Tribes,
Evelyn grabbed Delia's hands and began to swing the two of them
around and around. Once they had made three complete revolutions,
the excitable woman really got down to business, snaking and
wiggling back and forth like she was some kind of reincarnated
go-go dancer. Occasionally, she moved in to bump hips with Delia,
but she mostly kept a safe distance.
Delia couldn't help being infected by Evelyn's enthusiasm and
she tried really hard to follow the wildly gyrating woman, but she
soon found herself falling further and further
behind.
"God, Evelyn! Slow down, will you… I can't keep up!"
Delia said, panting heavily, but to no avail - Evelyn just kept
going at full speed.
Almost giving up, Delia suddenly felt an arm move around her
waist, quickly followed by the rest of Vicky. The intense look in
the blonde's eyes made Delia gulp nervously, but, curiously enough,
feel safe at the same time.
Vicky moved in close, so close in fact that their fronts were
touching. Placing her hands on Delia's rear end, she gave the two
globes a little squeeze before beginning to shimmy left and right.
Going slowly at first, she soon increased the speed of the
movements until they matched the rhythm of the song.
The closeness of the dance and the sly grin on Vicky's face made
Delia's heart rate pick up and her temperature rise exponentially.
Unsure of what to do with her hands, she put them on Vicky's
shoulders, but an unhappy pout on Vicky's face made Delia move them
further and further down until they eventually covered the blonde's
perfectly sculpted rear end.
Evelyn suddenly noticed that her dancing partner had moved away
from her, and she boogied around in a circle to find her. When she
saw Delia and Vicky dancing closely, her face lit up and she let
out a loud squeal.
"Group hug!" she howled and threw herself at the two closely
entangled women, pushing them several steps sideways and nearly
knocking them over.
"Ugh! No! Uh! Evelyn!" Delia croaked, trying to shuffle
around on the spot to break free of Evelyn's bear hug. Her hands
were trapped on Vicky's bum and she just knew it would only be a
matter of time before Julian or his wife - or worse, Geoffrey -
would see them.
Vicky just laughed out loud, seemingly loving every moment of
the hug and Delia's predicament. Suddenly finding space under
Evelyn's arms, she managed to duck out of the way and sneak away
from the two hugging women.
"I wish I had a camera. This should be kept for posterity," she
said into Delia's ear, taking a step back to get the full picture
of Evelyn squeezing Delia for all she was worth while her neatly
styled hairdo was buried deep into the nook of Delia's
throat.
"Heh…"
"Oh, Delia, I can't tell you how happy I am that you organised
the reunion this time. It's been such a smashing evening! Far,
far better than the last time. Oh, that was so dreadful. Remember?
Bangers and mashed potatoes… and draught on tap! I mean,
really!" Evelyn said into the top of Delia's
cleavage.
Delia just bared her teeth in an amused grin and tried to roll
with Evelyn's excitement. Up on the stage, Henry segued the music
into Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, causing
Evelyn to let out a squeal that nearly popped Delia's
eardrums.
Evelyn took a step back but kept her hands on Delia's arms.
"That's our anthem! Del! Let's do it!" she continued, pulling the
taller woman into something resembling a wild, uninhibited tribal
dance.
---
Ten minutes later, Delia plopped down into one of the couches,
completely spent and looking like a well-done lobster. She glanced
longingly at the refrigerator, trying to muster up enough energy to
get herself a soft drink so she could get a shot of
caffeine.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Vicky was able to decipher the
look and stuck an opened bottle of Schweppes Orange into Delia's
hand before sitting down on the armrest.
Delia returned the smile - or tried to, at least - and moved the
bottle up to her lips, draining more than half of it in one gulp.
"An hour on the treadmill is nothing compared to this…" she
croaked.
"Perhaps you should step up your
exercise…?"
"Perhaps I should stop dancing," Delia said and emptied the
bottle. She looked around and saw to her great horror that Evelyn
was once again headed for her with determined steps.
"Evelyn… please… I need a break," she said once the
easily excitable woman was close enough to hear it above the music
and the din of the other guests.
"And I need to go home… unfortunately. We need to open
the gift shop bright and early tomorrow," Evelyn said and sat down
next to Delia.
"Oh, even on a Sunday?"
"Yes, don't forget it's the tourist season. Now is the time we
earn what we spend in the winter. But I've had the time of my life
tonight, Del. Hey, remember that one?"
"Yeah, I do actually," Delia said, hoping that Evelyn wasn't
about to break out into the cheesy song from Dirty
Dancing.
"That's how I feel right now. Please, please, please, Del,
let's keep in touch. I'll die inside if we have to go another ten
years before seeing each other again." Allowing a small tear to
run down her cheek, Evelyn grabbed Delia's hands and gave them a
strong squeeze. When the gesture didn't invoke enough emotion for
her, she jumped forward and threw herself at Delia, wrapping her
arms around the taller woman's torso.
"Ooooof! All right, all right…!" Delia croaked into
Evelyn's red hair, completely overpowered by the fiery
woman.
"I promise that I'll stay in touch. It's been fun, hasn't it?"
Delia continued once Evelyn had pulled back.
"It's been so much fun I can hardly believe it, Del. Goodbye,
goodnight and thanks for everything. Goodbye, Vicky. Hope to talk
to you, too, okay?"
"Absolutely. You have my word," Vicky said and shook hands with
Evelyn.
"Ta-ta everybody!" Evelyn shouted, waving to the remaining
guests as she turned the corner to go into the cloakroom where her
husband was already waiting.
Delia and Vicky waved back at once, chuckling over the redhead's
antics and bubbly spirit.
"You know, Vicky, if I wasn't organising this bash, I'd be
heading home now, too. I'm dead-tired," Delia said, trying to
stifle a wide yawn.
"I know a great pick-me-up," Vicky whispered into Delia's ear,
taking the opportunity to nibble on the taller woman's
ear.
"Uh, you do?" Delia said, squirming from Vicky's sweet
touch.
"Yeah."
"What is it?"
"You'll see in a minute. Come on, let's dance a bit
more."
"Ugh, no…" Delia whinged, but allowed herself to be
dragged onto the dance floor.
---
They had only danced to Electric Light Orchestra's Calling
America for a few minutes when Henry the Hit Machine faded
down the song and announced that the next twenty minutes would be
dedicated to 'the lovers among you'.
Pressing a button, he reprogrammed the spotlights to move around
slower, and then put on Air Supply's I Can't Wait
Forever.
As the slow, haunting song started, Delia felt Vicky's arms
sneak around her waist and pull her close. Leaning against each
other, they began to shuffle back and forth on the spot, getting
the most out of the intimate moment.
"This is what I meant," Vicky said quietly, pressing her cheek
up against Delia's throat. After placing a gentle kiss on Delia's
collarbone, she sighed in contentment and looked up to lock eyes
with the taller woman.
Some people left the dance floor when the slow tunes started,
but they were quickly replaced by a handful of couples who came out
to dance closely and hold each other tight - Julian and his wife
among them.
Soon, Delia felt Suzie watching her constantly, no matter what
she and Vicky did or where they went on the dance floor.
Eventually, Suzie's eyes were practically burning a hole in the
back of Delia's head and she felt her temper starting to
simmer.
The simmer was turned up to gas mark three when Delia overheard
a few comments as she and Vicky happened to dance past Julian and
Suzie. She hadn't been able to catch all of it, but she knew
exactly what they had been talking about.
Biting her lip in frustration, her movements became more jerky
and finally, the inevitable happened - she stepped on Vicky's
toes.
Letting out a brief, but loud, yelp, Vicky held onto Delia's
arms for support, took a half-step backwards and began to hop
around on one leg.
"Oh, no, Vicky, I'm so sorry…"
"Uhhh… uhhh… I'm okay. It could've been worse, you
could've been wearing stilettos," Vicky said through clenched
teeth.
"I just got frustrated and then I lost track of my feet
and-"
"It's okay, but please don't do it again!"
"I won't. I'll never dance again in my life!" Delia said and
turned around, but Vicky kept holding her tight.
"Now you sound like Evelyn! Just ignore those people… I'm
not done dancing with you, Delia. The best is yet to
come."
"Wha…?"
"I slipped Henry a tenner before. He's about to play our
song."
"Our song…? We have a song? Oh… oh, you
mean…?"
"Yes."
Up on the stage, Henry cued Crockett's Theme, causing a
whole host of emotions to flash across Delia's face. She couldn't
believe that Vicky had remembered that song - after all, it had
been more than twenty years since that memorable party where they
had kissed for the first time - but she was glad that she had. As
the song started proper, she became so emotional that a few tears
escaped her eyes and stained her shirt.
"Our song. Remember?" Vicky whispered as she leaned in and began
to move left and right to the slow, enticing, electronic
beat.
Delia could only nod, so overwhelmed by emotions that she was
afraid that she would start to weep for real if she
spoke.
As the song went on, Delia's soft, tender emotions slowly gave
way to raw, pure passion. She had waited for so long for this
moment, and now that it had finally arrived, her body reacted like
never before. Every look, every touch sent a wave of sizzling
pleasure through her, and as Vicky leaned in to nibble on the pulse
point on her neck, she thought she was going to burst into
flames.
Still dancing slowly to the beat of the tune, Delia reached up
and put a gentle hand on the side of Vicky's face. Moving her
thumb up and down, she caressed the honey-blonde woman's cheekbone,
growing more and more passionate until she could no longer contain
herself.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned down to claim
Vicky's lips in a tender, loving kiss. At once, she felt Vicky
respond in kind by leaning into the kiss and even trailing her
tongue against Delia's lips.
Behind them, Suzie let out a surprised, even indignant, squeal,
but Delia couldn't care less. She opened her mouth to let Vicky's
tongue inside, and soon, the two muscles were dancing against each
other, adding high-octane fuel to the fire already raging deep
within her.
When Crockett's Theme faded out, Henry the Hit Machine
segued into one of the other instrumentals from Miami Vice,
Tubbs & Valerie, but Delia barely registered
it.
The need for air eventually won out and Delia reluctantly pulled
back. Sighing, she leaned in and rested her forehead against
Vicky's. "Oh, sweetheart…" she whispered without knowing how
Vicky would react to such a term of endearment.
Vicky's reaction was to lick her lips and break out into a
charming smile. "That was a long time coming, Del," she said
quietly, looking the tall woman straight in the eye.
"Yes… twenty-two years…"
Putting her arms back around Delia's waist, Vicky rested her
head against the taller woman's chest and resumed dancing to the
instrumental.
Behind the two women, Suzie grabbed her husband and stomped off
the dance floor, mouthing obscenities all the way over to the
cloakroom. After throwing her arms into the sleeves of her jacket,
she came back into the hall to see if Delia and Vicky were still
dancing - once she had established that they were, she spun around
on her high heel and left in a huff.
Delia caught some of the incident, but she refused to let it
bother her. Her mind and her body were still trying to cope with
the passion coursing through her, and she wasn't able to do a very
good job of keeping up with Vicky's dance moves. After a few
faltering steps, she laughed nervously and shook her head. "This
isn't going to work… I'm worried I'm going to step on you
again if we go on. I'm burning up, Vicky!"
Vicky licked her lips again and moved in so close that Delia
could feel the blonde's pert breasts pressing into her. "There's a
remedy for that. Do you want me to put out your fire, Del?" she
said quietly.
Delia opened her mouth to reply, but she couldn't get a sound
across her lips. Her heart rate increased again until the sound of
her blood rushing past her eardrums was drowning out even the loud
music coming from Henry's equipment. Breathing heavily and feeling
completely engulfed in a haze of lust, Delia nodded an affirmative
answer to Vicky's question.
Putting her fingers inside the waist of Delia's slacks, Vicky
pulled the two of them towards the only place they would be able to
find some privacy - the Ladies' room.
Once they reached the rest room, Delia pushed Vicky inside and
immediately began to check the stalls. Finding that they were all
empty, she locked the door to the hallway and turned around to face
Vicky who was leaning against the long wash basin.
Bold, unwavering lust was written all over the honey-blonde
woman's face, and the sight made Delia's insides quiver harder than
ever. Quickly closing the distance between then, Delia leaned down
and claimed Vicky's lips in a bruising, uninhibited kiss that did
nothing to quell the flames.
Moaning into Delia's mouth, Vicky began to grasp at the green
shirt, eventually yanking it out of the slacks. Once the shirt was
free, she grabbed at Delia's front and began to unbutton the
slacks, moving her hands so frantically that she appeared to be
afraid that she wouldn't get to feel the tall woman's skin before
it was all over.
Stilling Vicky's frantic hands, Delia simply pushed her slacks
down, revealing the dark green panties that graced her curvaceous
hips. When the cool air hit the superheated skin on her abdomen and
her thighs, she felt even more electrified and she quickly whipped
off her shirt and went to work on removing Vicky's trouser
suit.
The trouser suit and the ivory blouse soon joined the green
shirt on the white tiles, quickly followed by a black, lacy bra.
Delia took a small step back to admire Vicky's breasts and fit,
lean body, but didn't have time to do anything before Vicky had
placed a warm hand on Delia's throbbing centre.
While she was running two fingers up and down the crotch of
Delia's soaked panties, Vicky began to fondle her own centre, and
she let out a long, husky groan that nearly made the mirror behind
her crack. "I want you… inside me, Del. Now…
please…" she whispered in a hoarse voice.
The tone of Vicky's voice made Delia's nape hairs stand on edge
and she looked down at once. Hooking her thumbs inside the elastic
band, she pulled Vicky's lacy panties down to reveal a patch of
finely cropped dark-blonde hair.
"Let's do it together… come on," Vicky husked, tugging at
Delia's panties.
Delia complied by quickly pulling them down. The thought of
what they were about to do and the cool air caressing her slick
folds almost made her crash over the edge before they had even
started, and she couldn't stop a long sigh from escaping her
lips.
Stepping forward, Delia moved her hand down to Vicky's
super-slick outer folds and carefully spread them with her
fingertips. As Vicky's hips pressed into her hand, she inserted
first one, then two fingers into the burning hot opening, but kept
them still for the time being.
Quickly using her free hand to guide Vicky's fingers down past
her own dark patch of hair, she helped inserting them into her
opening. The intense, swirling sensations and the blinding heat
that spread through her from the sweet contact made her knees turn
to pudding, but the sight of Vicky's hooded eyes and slightly
parted lips gave her the impetus to carry on.
Panting heavily, Delia leaned closer to Vicky and once again
claimed her lips - this time in a calm, loving kiss. With the
connection firmly established, she began to move her fingers up and
down inside Vicky, stroking and exploring her velvety cavern and
eventually adding a bit of pressure to Vicky's swollen bundle of
nerves with her thumb.
Vicky groaned hard into Delia's mouth and began to ride the tall
brunette with her fingers. Breaking off the kiss, she sighed
sensuously and began to nibble on Delia's lower lip, all the while
looking deeply into the hooded baby blues to see how her lover
responded to her touch.
Soon, the two women were moaning quietly, rocking back and forth
up against the wash basin; pleasuring each other in perfect harmony
and almost feeling like one entity.
When Delia's hips suddenly bucked on their own accord, she knew
she wouldn't be able to last for much longer, and she quickly
reached down to still Vicky's hand. "I… I need a moment,
baby… I don't wanna come so soon…" Delia whispered in a
hoarse voice.
Nodding, Vicky stopped moving her fingers, but kept them inside
Delia. A cheeky grin graced her features and she leaned forward and
began to nibble on Delia's collarbone instead. Once that spot was
well-loved, she moved further down to the swell of Delia's breasts
that they hadn't had time to liberate from the dark green
bra.
Feeling Vicky's lips and teeth on her breasts made Delia's eyes
pop wide open, and she flung her head back and let out a long,
husky groan that left her throat quite raw. Every fibre in her body
began to spasm and stand on edge; building up to a higher and
higher crescendo that rushed through her like an
avalanche.
At the exact same time, Vicky felt Delia's inner muscles quiver
and clamp hard down on her fingers, prompting her to grin saucily
and to resume stimulating the swollen nub with her
thumb.
The results were instant - only a few seconds later, Delia came
hard into Vicky's hand, bucking up against her and letting out an
animal-like moan that caused Vicky to immediately follow her lover
over the edge.
Moving as one, the two women bucked and groaned together,
whispering sweet words of nonsense and grinding up against each
other in complete, utter bliss.
"God…" Delia croaked as the tension slowly left her, only
to be replaced by a warm afterglow that covered her like a blanket.
Panting hard, she gently removed her fingers from Vicky's opening,
marvelling at the love juices that coated them.
Chuckling, Vicky pulled Delia into a breathless embrace that
soon turned into a tender hug. "That was so good, Del. Thank
you…"
"You're welcome, baby. And thank you."
"Anytime," Vicky whispered and began to nibble on Delia's
ear.
"Uh! Uh, Vicky… I…"
Suddenly someone started pounding on the door to the Ladies'
room, causing Vicky and Delia to look up in shock, wearing
identical, guilty expressions.
"Uh-oh, we better… uh," Delia said and hurriedly turned on
one of the faucets to wipe Vicky's juices off her fingers. Once
that was done, she reached down, pulled up her panties and picked
up her shirt.
"Where did my panties go?!" Vicky whispered hoarsely, looking
under the wash basin for her lacy unmentionables while she was
cleaning her hand.
"There!" Delia whispered, pointing at the lacy garment that had
flown halfway across the room.
"How in the world did they get way over
there…?"
'For Goodness' sake, will you unlock the bleedin' door!
There's a queue of women tap-dancing out here! I'm going to get my
sister if you don't come out at once!' Cathy's voice said
through the locked door. When she still didn't get a reply, she
resumed thumping her fist against the door.
Delia snickered like a schoolgirl and continued to fumble with
the remaining buttons on her shirt. Once they were secure, she
pulled up her slacks, leaving the green shirt hanging loose.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she tried to fluff her hair so it
wouldn't look so unruly, but it was too damp to fall
right.
Studying herself and Vicky, Delia could see that their faces and
necks were flushed and that they both had small, red blotches on
their cheeks. Vicky's honey-blonde hair was sticking out in all
directions, the shoulders of her jacket weren't aligned properly
and her upper lip appeared to have been quite badly bruised - all
in all, they weren't exactly in tip-top condition.
This didn't stop Vicky from grabbing Delia's long arms and
pulling her into a searing kiss that only ended when Cathy thumped
her fist repeatedly against the door.
"We better leave," Vicky said in a hoarse voice. "I'll leave the
explaining to you. She's your sister," she continued with a
snicker.
"Oh, thank you… ah, she'll understand. I hope…"
Delia said and moved over to the locked door. Taking a deep
breath, she pulled back the sliding bolt and depressed the
handle.
Once the door was opened, Cathy and five other women barrelled
into the Ladies' room, and within seconds, all five stalls were
occupied. "Well, thank you! It's about bloomin' time…!"
Cathy said before noticing that it was her sister who had been in
there the whole time.
"Whut? Sis? What are you doing in here? Have you been
smoking?" - sniff, sniff - "Ohmygod!" she said out loud
when the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Wide-eyed, she
turned to look at Vicky who was busy putting her jacket on
right.
"No, we haven't been smoking. But we were about to burst into
flames. You know, spontaneous combustion," Delia said and winked
at her sister.
"Uh-huh… in the Ladies' room…" Cathy said,
stunned.
"Well, it was either here or out on the dance floor. Vicky, are
we done?" Delia said and put out her hand.
"Oh, we're well-done… for now," Vicky said and took
Delia's hand.
As Delia and Vicky walked hand in hand out of the Ladies' room
and into the main hall, Cathy kept standing in the doorway, staring
wide-eyed at the woman who may have looked like her big sister but
who behaved nothing like her.
---
Up on the stage, Henry the Hit Machine had gone back to up-tempo
songs - the original Italian version of Self Control - but
neither Delia nor Vicky had enough energy left to go back to the
dance floor.
Delia plopped herself down in one of the couches, leaned her
head against the backrest and let out a long sigh. Still floating
on a golden cloud from her afterglow, she put a hand across the
lower part of her belly, wondering if she had dreamt the whole
thing.
Vicky answered that question almost at once by jumping up into
the couch and kneeling on the seat next to Delia. Leaning forward,
she began to play with Delia's long hair, running her fingers
through it, twirling the ends and arranging it in new, outrageous
hairstyles.
"Once again… thank you. It was wonderful," Vicky
whispered.
"No, you were wonderful… I just came. In five minutes
flat," Delia croaked.
Laughing over the undeniable truth of that statement, Vicky
leaned in and began to nibble on Delia's ear.
"I can go on for a little longer, honest! It was just…
God, I was just… twenty-two years, Vicky!"
"Do you mean to tell me that you'd been saving yourself for me
all those years…?" Vicky said, letting out an amused little
giggle.
"Uh… not exactly, no. Ah, you know what I mean. Uh,
Vicky…"
"Yes…?"
"Where do we go from here?"
"Well-"
"Please tell me it wasn't just a one-night stand," Delia said
with a sigh.
"It wasn't. Not if I have anything to say about it. I'm not a
love 'em and leave 'em girl. Del, you may have been too hot and
bothered to have noticed, but I wanted you just as badly as you
wanted me."
"Oh, I noticed all right…"
"I was planning on inviting you over for an early dinner
tomorrow to explain what I had in mind, but…" Vicky snickered
again and kissed the side of Delia's head. "… but considering
the things we've done tonight, how about making it a night cap
instead…?"
"Oooh, I'd like that. I accept your invitation," Delia said and
turned to face Vicky. Moments later, their lips touched in a nice,
little, loving kiss. Once they separated, they kept their heads
together, just enjoying the close company of each
other.
"Hey, it would give me an opportunity to show you that I'm not a
Minute Girl," Delia continued, breaking out in an embarrassed
snicker that soon claimed Vicky as well.
"Sounds good to me. I have one or two things of my own I'd like
to show you," Vicky said, putting her hand on Delia's
thigh.
"You mean… I didn't get to see everything before?" Delia
said, caressing the back of Vicky's hand.
"Baby… you haven't seen anything yet," Vicky replied in a
husky voice so full of sizzling promise that Delia felt she had
been zapped by a high-voltage cable.
---
"Look at those two… what on Earth is going on with your
sister tonight?" Brian said from the dance floor.
Cathy turned around and looked at her sister and Vicky who were
obviously so deeply into each other that the world could have gone
under without either of them noticing.
"It's love, Brian. Remember that?"
"Oh, but I love you, darling. Don't you believe me when I say
that?"
Before Cathy had time to answer, she and Brian had to take a few
shuffling steps sideways to make way for Geoffrey who stumbled
across the dance floor in a drunken stupor, headed for the Men's
room.
"Of course I do," Cathy said after a little
while.
"Hm."
"It's just… well, a bit different for us because we need
to think about the car insurance and pay off the forty-eight inch
flatscreen television set and the mortgage on the house and keep
the appointments at the vet for Tiger's shots and… God.
There's no time for romance… for passion… for…" -
'… for doing the wild thing in the bathroom. When was
the last time Brian made love to me outside the bedroom…?
Hmmm. Never,' Cathy thought, making a disappointed
face.
Sighing, Cathy pulled Brian to the side to allow Geoffrey to
pass the other way. Once the drunken man had stumbled past them,
they shuffled back into the centre of the dance
floor.
"Well, that's true, but it was our own choice to get those
things, darling. Your sister has most of those things, too, but no
one to share them with. That's got to be worse," Brian said,
pulling his wife closer to him.
Cathy furrowed her brow, surprised by her husband's
uncharacteristic depth. Just as she opened her mouth to reply,
Brian chuckled and shook his head.
"So typical of your sister to score the prettiest girl at the
ball," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
Grunting in surprise, Cathy came to a dead stop and put her
hands on her hips. Not only did her left eyebrow creep up her
forehead, her mouth turned into a narrow line in her
face.
"Oh! Uh, apart from you, of course… ha, ha, but,
ummm… she couldn't very well score you, could she…?
Ha, ha. Ha… Uh, yeah. Do you fancy a glass of wine,
dear?"
"Nice save, Mr. Walsh. Shut up and dance," Cathy said and
resumed wiggling to the beat.
"Yes, dear."
---
Thirty minutes later, Henry faded down the song he was playing
and turned on his microphone.
"Thank you for having me here tonight, you've been a wonderful
audience. I hope you'll remember Henry the Hit Machine for any
parties or events you might host in the future. You'll find my
business card at the foot of the stage. This will be our final
song of the evening, Take My Breath Away by Berlin. Enjoy
it," he said and cued the love theme from Top Gun.
As the first notes of the superhit began playing, Vicky sat up
straight and took Delia's hands in her own. "May I have this dance,
please?" she said, already pulling the two of them to their
feet.
Seeing no point in replying verbally - they were already halfway
over to the dance floor, anyway - Delia just nodded and wrapped her
arms around Vicky.
Soon, the two women joined the other couples on the dance floor,
gently rocking back and forth to the timeless classic. Having never
felt better in her entire life, Delia looked lovingly at the woman
in her arms, thinking about what they had done and what the future
might hold for them.
Smiling, she leaned down and placed a tender kiss on Vicky's
forehead, earning herself a blinding smile from the honey-blonde
beauty.
When Delia could feel that she was being gazed at, she looked up
and locked eyes with her sister.
Cathy, wearing a smile that nearly matched Vicky's, winked and
mouthed 'go for it, sis!'
"I will," Delia said even though she knew that Cathy wouldn't be
able to hear it over the music.
All too soon, the song faded out and the people on the dance
floor started clapping and cheering. After flashing his spotlights
one last time, Henry came out from behind the wooden boxes and took
a bow.
"Baby, you take my breath away," Delia whispered before leaning
down to claim Vicky's lips in a series of little
kisses.
"Ohhhh, corny!"
"Corny, but true. All too true."
"I was thinking of another song from the eighties," Vicky said
between the kisses.
"Oh?"
" 'Bang!' "
Stunned, Delia pulled back slightly to take a good look at the
blonde beauty. When Vicky broke out into the sauciest grin she had
seen for a long time, she licked her lips and decided on the spot
to let Cathy and Brian handle most of the clean-up - after all,
there were more important things in life than stacking
chairs.
THE END