This is a 'follow-on' to 'Karen's Medical Madness,' which was also first published under the name of NewForester' some years ago, but can now be found under my current author name of Rockycoveboy. I hope you enjoy.
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The house looked imposing as Karen looked up at it from her car parked outside at the kerb. It was 10o'clock on a rainy night and the street lights played a silent tune on the puddles in the road and on the pavement as other traffic went by, and Karen wondered if this was a good idea.
Two days ago she had become 25 years old and had spent the afternoon at the solicitors discussing her final inheritance, receiving a cheque for £250 thousand from the handsome man on the other side of the desk. He was in his forties and obviously quite keen to make an impression on the now rich, attractive young woman-future business might depend on it and, anyway, she certainly was attractive, dressed to thrill and bubbling with excitement.
The solicitor, Mr Stamp, had casually mentioned to Karen that she would be most welcome at a small party that was occurring on Saturday evening at a house in town, and he had given her the address-it wasn't to celebrate anything, just a few business friends that he knew, but she would be able to enjoy a glass of champagne or two as part of her new found wealth-not that he would dare to discuss Karen's financial situation at a party-that would be professional misconduct. Karen thanked him for the invitation, said she would think about it and then made her way to the bank to deposit her cheque.
She had decided to discuss her finances with the bank, to see how best she could get her money to work for her, and had made an appointment to see an advisor in a couple of weeks time, but she had driven straight back home to the flat to wallow in the wonderful situation that she now found herself in.
It was January, she was 25 with her own flat, a decent part-time job, a flash sports car, loads of money in the bank and a superb, attractive face and body-life was very rosy.
She had decided to go to the party and had looked forward to it, but now as she sat in the street on this horrible, wet, dark night, she was having second thoughts. She didn't know anybody apart from a short business meeting with Mr Stamp, the big house looked cold and imposing and it would be far easier to drive home again and enjoy the TV with a nice bottle of wine.
She could hear music thumping out of the front windows of the house but could see no lights, but she told herself that she had gone to so much trouble to come this far that at least she should go in, even if it's only for a short while.
Karen had treated herself to a startling light brown suede dress that fitted tightly all round her shapely body, fairly short but long enough to hide the tops of her tan stockings, and rounded the outfit off with brown high heels which accentuated her long, shapely legs-her underwear was, as ever, immaculate.
Finally, Karen plucked up the courage, alighted from the car and slung her long white mac round her shoulders. The house was right up above the level of the road and as she pushed the gate back shut, she was faced with at least two flights of concrete steps up to the front door. She felt the night air round the top of her thighs as she made her way up the steps and could hear the music getting louder, but still no lights emanated from the building. At last she reached the front door and turned to look back across the whole of the lit-up town. A wonderful view, thought Karen, as she turned back and wrapped at the huge front knocker, only just hearing it herself above the music.
She was about to wrap at the knocker again when suddenly the brass handle twisted and slowly the door eased back-still no light on in the hall but as she looked in, Karen could see cigarette smoke drift upwards as shafts of light flickered across the hallway from various rooms.
'Ah, you must be Karen,' said a female voice, 'come in, we've heard so much about you, we didn't think you were coming.' What have they heard, thought Karen!!
The voice was almost shouting to be heard above the music, but Karen was more intent at looking at the woman's attire than listening to what she said. The ginger-haired woman, in her thirties, was dressed in a black bikini top with tassels hanging down to her firm, trim waist, and her only other garment was a pair of flimsy black panties, almost see-through and very, very tight. She was bare-legged and wore very high-heeled black sandals.
'Ginger' carried a glass in her hand and almost pulled Karen through the door as she spoke, dragging the mac from Karen's shoulders as she ushered her along the hallway. As she passed one door, Karen could see heaving bodies dancing to the loud music in the flickering lights, and more people in another room were just standing and talking and drinking. She saw a flash of silver hair on a tall man in yet another room as she was ushered by and then she heard Ginger say, 'Come and get a drink,' and on they went down the long hallway to the back room which was obviously where the 'bar' had been set up, and was probably the kitchen.
Karen spotted Mr Stamp, the solicitor, and as he came over to say hello she, again, was rather taken aback by his attire. Gone was the business suit from the day job, and in its place were leather trousers and a flowery open necked shirt-a relic of yester-year thought Karen, but he still looked handsome and attractive. 'Ginger' disappeared with Karen's coat as Mr Stamp reached her through the smog.
'Hello Karen, glad you could make it-we'd almost given up on you. Have you got a drink?,' and just then Ginger reappeared with a glassful of reddish liquid and thrust it into Karen's hand.
'Here you are, it's home-made punch, you'll love it.'
Karen took a sip and found it rather pleasing, with a firm kick in it's tale, and then found Ginger grabbing her arm, telling the solicitor, 'I'll take Karen through to meet a few of the others. Come on Karen,' and the two women moved back into the hallway and then on into one of the dark rooms where the music was thumping and the lights flashed round and round the dancers in the centre of the room.
'Let's have a dance, Karen,' and Ginger held the blonde woman's arm and pushed her gently into the midst of dancing bodies and began to gyrate to the beat. Karen had put her glass down and took up the rhythm opposite Ginger, other bodies close up in the sweaty, pulsating room. She watched Ginger's body move easily to the music, the taut waist beneath the tassels, and the skimpy pants thrusting to each loud beat. Karen herself quickly got into the dancing mood, swaying easily only a few inches away from Ginger's body as the throng of people all moved tightly against one another on the floor.
