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From: "Vickie Morgan" <artemis55@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Anniv-Party: {Vickie Morgan}[1/5] The Time of Her Life (MF, rom)
Date: Sat, 11 Nov 2000 00:10:05 -0500
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WARNING: This story includes sexually explicit material.

Any comments, including constructive criticisms, would be
most appreciated.  Please send to artemis55@hotmail.com

I would like to thank the Denny for all his help.

This work is copyrighted by the author.  You may download and keep
one copy for your personal use as long as my by-line and e-mail
address and this paragraph remain on the copy.  Any posting or
reposting on a website, other than the archive, or to a newsgroup
requires my permission first (but I'll probably say yes). This
story should not, under any circumstances be used to make a profit.
        ========================================
I orginally intended this to be a Halloween story but I didn't get it 
finished in time.  So it's part of the party for the second anniversary of 
ASSM. ASSM is run on a volunteer basis and it needs contributions to keep 
going.  Please send them some money.

I divided this story into five parts to make it easier to download. If you 
prefer to download this all at once or if you can't find a chapter,  you 
will be able to find this story on my webpage tomorrow.  Go to
http://members.tripod.com/VickieMorgan/LongPageFinal.htm
and follow the link.

If you liked 'IOU' then I think you'll like this story too.
        ========================================

The Time of Her Life
by Vickie Morgan


Thank you for the days,
those endless days, those sacred days you gave me.
I'm thinking of the days,
I won't forget a single day believe me.
I bless the light,
I bless the light that shines on you believe me.
And though you're gone
You're with me every single day believe me.

Days I'll rememeber all my life
Days when you can't see wrong from right
You took my life,
But then I knew that very soon you'd leave me.
But it's all right,
now I'm not frightened of this world, believe me.
I wish today, could be tomorrow
the night is long and it just brings sorrow, let it wait

Days
by The Kinks
        ========================================

Part One

It was strange how he met such an unusual girl in the most mundane manner.  
As usual on a Saturday night, Bill was hanging out down the local disco. 
Since it was February 29th, some bright spark had decided to have a theme 
night.  The girls were supposed to ask the guys to dance instead of the more 
traditional way of doing things.  Things were pretty much as usual though; 
the girls were all dancing together in the middle of the room, while the 
boys propped up the walls and drank.  Occasionally a couple of giggling 
girls would approach some of the better looking guys but none of them had as 
much as looked in Bill's direction yet.  His so-called mates had all 
disappeared off who-knew-where and Bill was getting bored.

Bill was therefore understandably startled when his arm was tapped and he 
turned to see a girl smiling at him.  Not that bad looking a girl either.  
True, she seemed to have mistaken it for an 80s night, judging by her 
clothes, but that wasn't that big a deal.  The important thing was, she was 
inviting him to dance.  She gave him a big grin and led him onto the dance 
floor.  They shuffled and swayed together in vague time to the music for a 
while, then she beckoned him out into the entrance lobby where the sound 
level was low enough for conversation to be possible.

There was an awkward silence while they looked at each other in clearer 
light and tried to think of something to say.

"Would you like to go someplace else," she suggested at last.  "Somewhere a 
bit quieter."

"Um, yeah, sure," Bill agreed, slightly surprised.  "Anywhere in particular 
you fancy going?"

"This is my first time here for a few years so I don't really know my way 
around.  Do you know anywhere we could get something really good to eat?"

"Good food, yeah I guess I might know somewhere," Bill said grinning.  "My 
family just happen to cook the best curry in the country."

"Oh really," she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes really.  We even have the paperwork to prove it.  My brother just won 
'Best UK Curry Cook'.  So it's official."

"Well, I've never had a curry, so I might as well start with the best in the 
country," she said with a smile.  Bill couldn't help smiling back at her as 
he admired the way her face was brightened by her smile.

"You've never had a curry?" he asked in mock surprise.  "Where have you 
been, in hibernation?  Everyone has a curry at the end of a Saturday night, 
it's tradition.  It's lucky you're with me or you would have to wait ages 
for a table.  There's just one thing first though."

"Oh, what's that then?" she asked, looking faintly worried.

"I don't know your name," Bill told her.  "I thought it would be good if I 
knew it.  That way, when my parents ask who you are, I don't look like an 
idiot for not knowing."

"Well I wouldn't like you to look like an idiot just because of me," she 
replied, laughing.  "My name's Verity Adams."

"Pleased to meet you, Verity.  My name's Bill and I'm afraid you are about 
to meet at least ten members of my family.  But you get to taste the best 
curry in the world, so it will be worth it."

"The best in the world now, is it?" she queried as they headed down the 
street.

"Oh definitely, we just don't have the paperwork for that yet." Bill 
couldn't see her smile because she had a scarf wrapped around her face but 
he heard her giggle.  There was a cold wind blowing and they huddled 
together as they walked.  Bill tentatively put his arm around her and was 
pleased when she moved closer.

Bill's family wasn't as bad as he had feared.  Every single waiter in the 
restaurant managed to find an excuse to stop at their table to be introduced 
to Verity but at least they didn't stay too long.  Since Verity had never 
had curry before, Bill ordered a small portion of all the main varieties so 
she could sample the full range.  Once the table was full and their glasses 
topped up, Bill's family left them in peace and they had a chance to talk.

"So what brought you to town tonight?" Bill asked.

"I was hoping to meet my cousin but it didn't work out," Verity said.  "So I 
saw the signs for the disco and thought it might be fun."

"Well, your cousin's loss is my gain," Bill said politely.

"Hey, I didn't know you were a charmer," Verity teased.

"I have to ask, what made you choose me at the disco?"

"You looked as bored as me," Verity told him.  "Most people seemed to be 
enjoying themselves but I'd had enough.  I hoped you wouldn't mind leaving."

"I'll have to remember to look bored more often," Bill remarked.  "Here try 
this one, it's Vindaloo."  Verity obediently scooped some up on a piece of 
poppadom and put it in her mouth.  She swallowed and immediately started 
coughing, tears running down her face.  She grabbed her glass of larger and 
took several big gulps.

"I take it back, I picked you because you were the most stunningly handsome 
guy in the disco," Verity gasped.  "You're wonderful, charming, intelligent 
and good-looking.  Just don't ever feed me something that hot again."

"Sorry," Bill grinned, not looking at all repentant.  "It's probably an 
acquired taste."  To prove his point he took a couple of large mouthfuls.  
Verity giggled and rolled her eyes.

"My hero, I'm so impressed.  You were probably raised on this stuff.  What 
was it called again, Vesuvius?"

"No, Vindaloo.  Try this one, it's Malayan.  Very mild, with bananas and 
pineapples in it."

"Can I trust you, though?" Verity queried, laughter lurking in her eyes as 
she scooped up some of the recommended dish.  "Yum, that's really good.  At 
least as far as I can tell with the few taste buds I still have remaining."

"Wimp," Bill said, eating some more of the Vindaloo.

"Now you're just showing off," Verity told him.  "I hope you don't mind me 
asking, but are you Indian?"

"Not on your life, I'm Pakistani, if you don't mind," Bill said with mock 
indignation.

"Sorry," Verity apologised.  "Er, what's the difference between Indians and 
Pakistanis?"

"Pakistanis are far better at cricket and our Vindaloos are much hotter," 
Bill said proudly.  "Actually, I'm technically British, seeing as I was born 
in this country."

"I was a bit confused so I thought I'd ask," Verity explained.  "Bill is 
such a British name but you have those beautiful, big, brown eyes that are 
typical of Indian, sorry I mean Pakistani, people."  Bill squirmed with 
embarrassment at her compliment.  The men were supposed to tell the girls 
that they had beautiful eyes, not the other way around.

"My parents gave us two names, one a traditional Pakistani name and one a 
traditional British name.  They reckoned that whichever suited each of us 
the best is the name we would end up using.  In my case, I ended up with 
everyone calling me Bill."

"So what's your other name?" Verity asked.

"How did I know you were going to ask that? It's Naved."

"Hmm, I think Bill suits you better.  What's this pink stuff?  It's really 
nice."

"That's Chicken Tikka Massala.  It's good with Pilau rice.  I can actually 
make that, you know."

"Do you cook for the restaurant?"

"No, I'm nowhere near good enough for that.  I'm at University at the 
moment, studying for an Engineering degree," Bill explained.  "I come home 
on a weekend and work as a waiter all Friday night and I work the early 
evening shift on a Sunday."

"Are you planning to be an engineer of some kind then?"

"I don't really know," Bill confessed with a sigh.  "Education is important 
to my family so they insist that all their kids go to Uni'.  I don't really 
know what I want to do with myself yet.  I'm kind of the black sheep of the 
family, I guess."

"Well you are a very charming black sheep, if you ask me," Verity told him.

"Do you want to go and tell my Dad that," Bill suggested.  "He's the scary 
man in the kitchen, yelling at everyone."

"OK, but I'd rather tell him his food is wonderful," Verity said, scraping 
the last of the Korma out of the dish with her finger and sucking it into 
her mouth blissfully.

"There you go, it's the best Saturday night tradition going.  Just make sure 
you've got plenty of antacids around tomorrow morning.  If you're not used 
to spicy food you might have a bit of an upset stomach."

"I'll bear that in mind.  Oh no, look at the time!" Verity exclaimed.  "I 
have to leave in less than half an hour.  How much do I owe for this 
wonderful meal?"

"Put your purse away," Bill ordered.  "You are my guest and the meal is on 
the house anyway.  Do you really have to be going?"

"I'm afraid so," Verity said.  "I leave at midnight."

"Can I walk you to your car or train or whatever?" Bill asked.

"That would be lovely," Verity said, a smile dispelling the sadness that had 
been clouding her face.  "I'd love it if you'd walk me to the train 
station."

They headed out into the cold night.  An occasional snowflake was drifting 
down from the dark sky but the wind had died down slightly.  Verity tucked 
her hand through Bill's arm and they huddled together as they walked.  All 
too soon, in Bill's opinion, they reached the train station.

"I can't thank you enough," Verity said.  "I've had a fantastic time 
tonight."

"Will you be coming back this way soon to visit your cousin?" Bill asked 
hopefully.

"Not too soon," Verity said sadly.  "I won't be back until the end of 
October.  You'll have completely forgotten about me by then."

"No I won't," Bill objected.  "Besides, I'm sure we can keep in touch in the 
meantime.  There's the phone or even writing."

"Don't say that," Verity protested.  "One of us won't write and then the 
other one will get upset.  Let's just leave things as they are, one perfect 
night, and not spoil it with promises we won't keep."

"Can't we arrange to meet up in October," Bill asked forlornly.

"I'll tell you what," Verity said.  "If you remember, I'll be checked into 
that hotel right over there on October 31st.  If you remember and contact me 
there, we can spend the whole day together.  If not, then at least no one's 
feelings will be hurt."

"OK, I'll be there," Bill told her.  "What time will you arrive?"

"I get here just after midnight and I have twenty-four hours before I have 
to leave.  But you'll be asleep at that time, I expect.  It's actually a 
Saturday again.  We could maybe go for a curry again," Verity suggested.  
"After all, you did say it was tradition for a Saturday night."

"All right, it's a date then," Bill said.  "There's actually another 
tradition we have on a Saturday night.  At the end of the night, we like to 
kiss goodnight."

Verity smiled slowly and the tip of her tongue swiftly passed over her lips.

"Sounds like a good tradition to me," she said slightly breathlessly as he 
moved closer.  Bill wrapped his arms around her, holding her slight body 
close to him.  Tentatively he lowered his mouth to hers.

The first things he felt were her cold lips, then his tongue delved into 
warm depths of her mouth.  She swayed against him and her arms slid around 
his neck.  Her tongue glided against his and he felt the sensation in every 
nerve ending in his body.  His whole body seemed concentrated in his mouth 
as he continued to kiss her.  He dragged the tip of his tongue across the 
roof of her mouth and she moaned in response. Their breath mingled and he 
tried to imprint the taste and feel and scent of her on his memory.  At last 
he reluctantly pulled back, planting tiny kisses on first her upper lip, 
then her lower lip as he slowly let her go.  She trailed a finger gently 
around his mouth and then stepped away.

"I wish you didn't have to go," Bill whispered.

"I wish I didn't have to go, too," Verity admitted.  "But I do have to.  
Thank you again."  She planted a swift kiss on his mouth, then turned and 
walked swiftly away.  She paused at the end of the corridor to look back, 
then disappeared around the corner.  Bill gave a deep sigh, then made his 
way home.

Copyright Vickie Morgan, 2000
E-mail artemis55@hotmail.com
Website, still in the process of being completed:
http://members.tripod.com/VickieMorgan/

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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