Apprehensively Sara surveyed the rounded brass surround of the the large ceramic button with "Bell" written on it, positioned just to the left of the ridiculously shiny and imposing black door. As she pressed she could hear a rich "Ding Dong" come from within, as though it was a real bell not an electronic version. She heard a bright English voice shouting "I'll go" followed by the sound of heels clicking across a stone floor.
Sara breathed deeply making her full breasts rise and fall. "What the fuck am I doing here?" she thought.
She'd only been in London a few weeks, seconded with the bank she worked for, and was still getting accustomed to the way of working, the attitudes and the climate. She never really knew when people were being serious either, and there seemed to be an awful lot of what she now knew was called "banter" and a huge amount of "piss taking" even in serious work discussions.
She hadn't made many friends yet in her new town, so was grateful when her colleague, Hugo "call me H" Robinson had invited her to his family's summer party. "Lots of folk there, not just the fam'" H had said, "Don't worry old girl, I wouldn't expose you to my family without lots of backup!" he'd laughed in the characteristic baritone of the English privately educated banker. It was certainly a long way from Warracknabeal her little country town in rural Victoria.
The clicking of heels stopped, and the door swung open revealing a tall woman in her late 30's. Her long dark hair fell in waves across her shoulders, a pair of large sunglasses perched on the top of her head. She had high cheekbones and as Sara quickly found out a devastating smile that made her whole face come alive.
"Well, hello" the tall woman chimed in a cut-glass accent "you must be Sara." With that she leaned in for a hug across the threshold, kissing the younger Australian on both cheeks and, as Sara became very aware pressing her breasts into her own.
"My, aren't you pretty as a picture?" the Englishwoman exclaimed still holding Sara's arms and looking her up and down. "What beautiful hair" she smiled and ran one hand down the side of Sara's blond locks, her full deep-red lips breaking open to reveal a set of perfect teeth.
"Gosh, forgive me though, I'm so rude" the older woman laughed, "I'm Gemma, H's sister. He's told me all about you and he wasn't wrong darling, you are stunning!"
Sara hadn't said a word yet but was both transfixed by Gemma's classic English beauty and embarrassed by the compliments, especially as her work colleague had obviously been talking about her. She found she was blushing a little as she eventually found her voice.
"Hi, pleased to meet you." Sara smiled back, her long Aussie vowels a contrast to the clipped tones coming from Gemma's mouth. "Sorry I'm late, I had to find my way from the tube and I got a bit lost." She explained.
"Oh, don't you worry darling," Gemma beamed back at her "the afternoon is still young. Plenty of time for fun and games still! Now do come inside and I'll get you a drink, you must be positively baking if you've walked all that way."
With that Gemma reached for Sara's hand, turned on an elegant heel and led her through the aged black and white tiled entrance hall, past various doorways and a double staircase and out into a large kitchen, the sun beaming in through vast sliding doors through which Sara could see fifty or more people mingling on a beautiful green lawn.
Surveying the scene she realised that all the women were dressed rather like her hostess, in long flowing dresses, each of them looking expensive and elegant. All the women seemed to be tall and beautiful, loose hair in various colours flowing down their perfect, tanned backs.
As she was about to apologise for being under dressed, Gemma spoke.
"Let me look at you properly darling, now we have some light." Gemma reached out and held the Australian's hands in her own, sending a nervous jolt into Sara's stomach. "You really are very beautiful, sweetie. You do know that?"
Sara had always worried about her looks; of course, she'd had plenty of compliments, but they were always from men who were trying to get in her pants, coming from this gorgeous older woman it somehow meant much more. She blushed and stammered looking down at her feet.
"Gee thanks, Gemma but I'm just a plain old country girl." This was always her self-depreciating response when complemented.
"Far from it, look at you? If we took a bit of time with some makeup and popped a good frock on you, you'd put all of us old things to shame!"
Talking of which sweetie before we go and meet everyone let's do something about what you're wearing."
Sara was taken aback, she'd put on her best summer dress, to be fair she'd bought it in Melbourne a few years previously and it had only cost $75 from a vintage shop in Fitzroy but she knew it fitted her nicely and she loved the little swishy skirt that ended halfway down her smooth tanned legs and, the large flower print of the fabric.
"Oh darling, please don't think I'm being rude, but if you wear that sweet little dress out there, half the chaps will have a heart attack! The poor dears will do nothing but stare at those gorgeous legs. They'll be swarming round you like bees around a honey pot and believe me darling most of them are simply dreadful bores. Now come with me."
It was said in a tone that brooked no argument and before she knew what was happening Sara was being led by the hand, out into the hallway again and up one of the sets of stairs. Little did she realise that as her skirt swayed around her thighs one of the male guests had emerged from the garden, intending to find some more ice but seeing the two women disappear had followed them wondering where they could be headed. As Sara climbed the stairs he was taking a long hard look at her toned legs, he took in the movement of her hips and could clearly see the curve of her buttocks and the flimsy pink lace that barely covered her cute bottom.
"Well, well, well," the man exclaimed under his breath "Gemma seems to have captured a live one there!" With that, accompanied by a suitably satisfying swell in his groin he turned on his heel and strode back out through the kitchen and into the garden, a smile playing around his handsome mouth.
