A/N: Betaed by Little Dorritt and Jen, and credit to Little dorritt for substantial inspiration.
Part Seventy
On the morning of Tuesday the eighth of March, Karen was sitting at her desk, wading her way through the usual morning's post. The circulars from area, the requests for accounts, and the letters from the concerned relatives of various inmates wanting some sort of a response from her, it was all the same as every other day. It was funny, Karen mused to herself, but the more experienced and the higher up the profession one rose, the more time one had to spend dealing with nameless, pointless admin, when what she actually wanted to do was to be left to get on with the job in hand. But right in the centre of the pile, was a very official-looking letter that bore the Prison Service logo, plus her name and the words "Private and Confidential," stamped in black ink on the envelope. Slipping her thumbnail under the seal, she opened the envelope and removed the letter. Her shout of "Yes!" brought her secretary's head round the door. "You are looking at your new Governing Governor," Karen told her in explanation, her grin spreading from ear to ear. "Congratulations," Sheila replied, seeing the sheer pleasure on Karen's face. Walking out of the office with a spring in her step, Karen almost danced towards her wing, except that it wasn't just her wing anymore. In a few weeks time, on the twenty-ninth of March to be exact, this would be her prison, her very own, bloody, prison! Seeing Grayling ahead of her, she called to him. When he turned round, he knew instantly what she had to tell him. The look of pure, unadulterated happiness on her face was really a sight to see. Karen held out the letter and watched him read it through. "Well done," He said, a broad smile spreading across his face. "I knew you'd get it." "I didn't want to count my chickens," She said seriously. "You really deserve this, Karen, more than anyone. I'll be proud to hand this place on to you." "Bloody relieved more like," Karen said with a smile, not feeling entirely comfortable with his words of encouragement. "I mean it," He said, laying a resting hand on her shoulder. "You'll do things with this prison, I know you will. Now, go and tell everyone, because I can see that's what you're itching to do." "Thank you, Neil," Karen said seriously. "I don't know all of what you said to area, but whatever you did say clearly made a difference." "And one of these days," Neil said in mock exasperation. "You will begin acknowledging that you got this job on merit and merit alone. Is that clear?" "Crystal, sir," she quipped back with a smile as she walked away towards the wing.
As she locked the gates of G wing behind her, she stood and surveyed the scene. Denny was playing Pool with one of the new inmates, whose name Karen couldn't immediately pluck from the recesses of her mind. The two Julies, G wing's longest serving veterans, and two of the fixtures and fittings, who would be sorely missed when they eventually left, were wiping down the servery. The Costa Cons, Karen knew that she shouldn't really accord them that title, were sat smoking, clearly plotting as to how to come by their next supply of gin and tonic. Al McKenzie and Darlene Cake, looked to be in the midst of an argument that may or may not turn nasty. Kris Yates, who reminded Karen of Nikki at times like this, was standing off to one side and also smoking. She was a woman who tried to remain on the sidelines, taking in everything around her, and avoiding any involvement with most of the other prisoners. Of Natalie Buxton, there was nothing to be seen, and Tina Purvis was sat at a table, writing either a letter or an essay for her education class. A broad, fond smile spread over Karen's face as she took in these familiar surroundings. Walking up to the Julies, a grin plastered on her face, she spontaneously put an arm round each of them, and began doing a mock imitation of a waltz. "Something good happened, has it, Miss?" Julie Saunders asked with a smile. "You could say that," Karen replied dryly. "Are you on something, Miss?" Denny asked with a cheeky little grin. "Only success," Karen told her, finally letting go of the Julies. "When Mr. Grayling leaves, at the end of this month, I will be taking over as your new Governing Governor." "Oh, that's brilliant, Miss," Julie S said, her smile broadening. "Yeah, well done, Miss," Julie J chimed in. "We never knew you was going for Grayling's job," Julie S put in, as if truly surprised at this turn of events. "Well, you don't know everything that goes on in this place, Julies," Karen said fondly. "Oh, you'd be surprised," Julie J replied. "There ain't much we don't know." "Aren't you pleased for her, Denny?" Julie S asked, looking over at Denny's glum face. "Being made queen of this shit heap, that ain't exactly something to be proud of, is it." Denny's harsh words cut Karen deeply. She'd mistakenly thought Denny would be pleased for her, but apparently not. "Just give her time," Julie S said as Denny walked away. "Yeah, she'll come round when she's got used to the idea," Julie J added. Then, as Sylvia came over to see what was going on, she said, "Eh, Miss, have you heard the latest, Miss Betts is going to be the new number one." "Oh, Marvellous," Sylvia said gloomily, as if all her nightmares had come at once. "I thought you'd be pleased," Karen said with a smirk. "You'll be getting rid of me at last." "Not far enough if you ask me." When Sylvia had stomped off in disgust, Karen couldn't help smiling. "Do either of you remember that song in the late eighties?" She asked. "I think it was called 'I love to hate you'. That could have been written about me and Sylvia. She's never so happy as when she's got something to moan about, and it's usually me." Julie J burst out laughing and Julie S grinned at the approaching figures of Dominic and Gina. "Are you two laughing at me again?" "No, at Bodybag, I mean Mrs. Hollamby," Julie S replied, her slip up making Karen grin. "I don't know," Tutted Gina with a smile. "Inciting inmates to mock your fellow officers. That's practically a sacking offence." "Not today it's not," Karen replied. "I got the job, so I'm allowed to be as outrageous as possible." "I said you'd walk it, didn't I," Gina responded, sounding incredibly pleased. "Well done," Dominic said, his boyish grin spreading from ear to ear. He stepped forward and gave Karen a quick impulsive hug. "You deserve it." A little while later, when Karen was about to leave the wing and go back to her office to actually do some work, Denny came up to her, looking extremely apologetic. "Miss," She said, coming to stand in front of Karen. "I'm sorry, about what I said. I am pleased for you, honest." "Thank you, Denny," Karen said quietly. "I won't be going that far away, I promise." As Karen let herself through the gate, Denny called after her. "Well done, man," Which made Karen smile.
When she phoned George at lunchtime, Karen hoped that she didn't have anything planned for that evening. "Are you busy this evening?" She asked, before enlightening her. "I don't think so. Why?" George sounded interested, though not overly intrigued. "Do you feel like celebrating?" Karen couldn't help teasing her slightly. "I might do. Why?" George asked suspiciously. "I got the job." "Oh, darling, well done!" George's pleasure came singing down the wire. "When do you officially take over?" "Tuesday the twenty ninth of March," Karen said, quickly glancing at the letter. "The day after Easter Monday." "So, what would you like to do this evening?" George drawled, in a voice that made Karen want to instantly drive to George's office, and screw her wherever they landed, no matter whom was watching. "Oh, I don't know," Karen mused, to give her a moment to come back to Earth. "I wouldn't mind getting slightly drunk, with you and only you, then who knows." "And a combination of ice cold Champagne and gloriously erect nipples, is the most intense feeling you'll ever have in your life," George purred, making Karen's eyes widen in anticipation. "I'll hold you to that," She said in sultry invitation. "Oh, believe me," George drawled as she stretched luxuriously. "It's incredible." After arranging a time to meet that evening, they said goodbye, Karen wondering how she was supposed to do any work that day, with the probability of an intensely satisfying evening ahead of her. As she replaced the receiver, George smirked wickedly at the Munnings above her desk. It was nice to know, that she could still make someone sexually aroused with her voice and voice alone.
Later that evening, George and Karen were lying side by side along the sofa in George's lounge, listening to some soft music, and drinking Champagne. "I haven't drunk Champagne as good as this for a long time," Karen said appreciatively, as George replaced her glass on the coffee table. "Ah, well, I didn't actually buy it," George admitted with a smile. "I went home and raided Daddy's cellar. On an occasion like this, you should only ever drink the real thing." At these words, Karen found herself remembering the time she'd drunk Champagne with Yvonne, on the Saturday in the middle of Ritchie's trial. But here, with this stunningly beautiful woman, the crackling log fire, and the large bowl of deliciously ripe strawberries on the coffee table, she couldn't be further removed from that summer evening party. "Are you happy?" She found herself asking George, definitely confirming the theory that she'd had too much to drink. "Very," George replied without any hesitation. "Are you?" "Yes," Karen answered softly. "Apart from the sporadic relationship I have with my son, things couldn't be better." "How often do you hear from him?" "Usually when he's run out of money," Karen said dryly. "Ever since he dropped out of college, Ross has only seen his mother as something that dispenses cash and unwanted advice in ever dwindling quantities. He'll probably be delighted when he hears about my significant rise in salary," She ended bitterly. "I think that's what Charlie sees me as sometimes," George said, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. "The one and only time she came to me for real help, was because John wouldn't give her what she wanted. I doubt if she'd have so much as told me if he'd supported her." "What happened?" "Charlie was sleeping with one of her lecturers and got herself pregnant. John behaved like the archetypal Victorian father, demanding to know what her lecturer was going to do about it. When Charlie told John she wanted a termination, he was furious. So, she came to me, as if suddenly remembering I existed. I think she assumed that I would help her get what she wanted, because it was what John didn't want. But Charlie was even less ready for the responsibility of a baby than I was when I had her." "Ross hasn't really ever forgiven me for getting involved with Fenner," Karen continued. "But then I think he's always seen it as his duty, to object to any of the men I've had in my life." "Charlie objected to Neil's politics more than anything. The arguments she had with him over the trade of live animals were monumental." "John told me once, that when he watched Charlie doing a presentation at College, she was the spitting image of you." "Oh, I hope not," George said with a smile. "Poor Charlie." "Telling Helen about my job's going to be an interesting conversation," Karen said dryly. "Why, do you think she won't be pleased?" "I'm not sure. It just might bring back some of the endless rows we had when she was Governing Governor, that's all." "Why don't we ask Helen and Nikki over for dinner?" George suggested. "At least then you'd be in relaxing surroundings, and have Nikki and I to referee." "Are you serious?" Karen asked, incredibly touched that George had thought of this. "Yes. Besides, I haven't seen much of your friends since the trial." Plucking a strawberry from the bowl on the table, George dipped it in her glass of Champagne, and ran it invitingly across Karen's lips. "You do like to live decadently, don't you," Karen said, after eating the strawberry. "It's the best way to live, occasionally," George replied, kissing her way along Karen's jawbone, until she could taste the Champagne on Karen's lips. "You're so good for me, do you know that?" Karen said between kisses. "Oh, am I now," George drawled, thinking that she wouldn't mind a few more compliments like that. As they continued kissing, George began caressing one of Karen's breasts through her blouse. This made Karen smile, because it was usually her who instigated any sexual contact, not George, and this seemed to say that George was becoming far more confident with the situation. Whenever they did touch like this, the first, initial contact seemed to set a match to their passion, making them almost frantically begin removing clothes, to be skin to skin as quickly as possible. "You're insatiable," George said between kisses, as her black lace bra was discarded and unceremoniously shoved under the sofa. "I'm just looking forward to seeing proof of your promise," Karen replied, as they moved as one to the softness of the enormous rug in front of the blazing log fire. "Who said that was a promise?" George asked, knowing Karen was referring to what she'd said about Champagne on naked skin earlier in the day. "And here I thought I'd found a woman who was definitely all talk and all action," Karen quipped, knowing George was teasing her. "Well, I suppose I do have a reputation to maintain." "Have you made love here often?" Karen asked, enchanted by the way the firelight played over George's body, giving her skin a rich, sensual glow that only served to make her look even more beautiful. "Almost as much as I have upstairs," George confirmed, as their hands began to wander at will. "I dread to think how much bodily fluid there is in the depths of this rug." "Yeah, too much information," Karen said with a laugh. "Well, you did ask," George said with a smirk.
Karen was languorously caressing George's breast, warmed by the heat of the fire, when the phone rang. George was all set to leave it, when she heard Jo's voice leaving a message on her answer phone. "George, are you in and otherwise engaged?" Came Jo's voice from the machine in her office across the hall. "Yes," Karen responded, though knowing that Jo couldn't hear her. "Or are you really out?" This was too much for George, whose curiosity rivalled even John's. Gently disentangling herself from Karen, she reached for the cordless on the table, and interrupted Jo's message. "I am here," She said, interrupting Jo in mid flow. "And yes, I am otherwise engaged, drinking Champagne and eating strawberries, and not remotely in the mood for talking about work." "Oh, any special occasion?" Jo asked, sounding intrigued. "Karen has just been made Governing Governor of Larkhall," George said, her voice filled with pride.
To get her back for answering the phone, Karen continued touching George's breast, grazing her thumb over an already erect nipple. "Tell her I said congratulations," Jo said, thoroughly pleased at Karen's success. "I will. You could talk to her yourself," George replied. "But she's got her hands full right now." Karen laughed silently, wondering if Jo would get George's meaning. But as Jo and George continued talking, Karen thought it was time to play George at her own game. Reaching for one of the glasses of Champagne on the coffee table, she dipped her finger in the icy, bubbly height of snobbery, and trailed her finger over the nipple she hadn't previously been touching. George hurriedly tried to stifle a gasp, and her eyes widened in shock. But as Karen took a swig of the Champagne, and began delicately sucking on said nipple, the feeling of her ice-cold lips, and the bubbles of the Champagne bursting on her skin, was driving George absolutely wild. Karen noticed with sincere enjoyment, that George was finding it increasingly difficult to carry on anything like a normal conversation with Jo, though she had to admit that George was putting on a BAFTA performance. As Karen continued her merciless ministrations, alternating between nipples, George screwed her face up in to any number of contortions, that only made Karen grin even more. But when Karen abandoned George's nipples, in favour of taking another mouthful of Champagne, George spared a thought to wonder just what Karen would do next, and to pray that she could keep her response to it from Jo. But what George wasn't prepared for, was for Karen to begin kissing her way down, until she was mercilessly swiping an extremely chilled tongue across George's clit. Her gasp was well and truly audible this time, but Jo didn't appear to notice. As Karen inched her still cool tongue into George's entrance, George decided that enough was enough. She just couldn't go on maintaining this level of detachment in the face of what Karen was doing to her. "I'm sorry, Jo," She said, trying not to groan in delight with every breath she took. "But I've got to go, to, to," She searched for a plausible excuse. "To turn the oven down. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Not waiting for Jo's reply, she switched off the cordless and sent it skidding across the carpet.
"How could you?" George asked, half in laughter, half in mortification, tugging on Karen's shoulder until they were at eye level again. "I didn't feel you complaining," Karen mocked, replacing her recently occupied tongue with her long, slender fingers. "That's not the point," George said between kisses, tasting a combination of herself and Champagne on Karen's lips. "I won't be able to look her in the face again after this." Further conversation was thwarted as Karen increased the speed in her wandering hand, causing George's breathing to quicken. "I'm sorry, darling," George gasped out. "But I'm not going to last very long." "Oh, go ahead," Karen encouraged, her hand moving even faster as George pulled her down to lie half on top of her. George couldn't believe it, all Karen was using on her was her hand, yet she knew she was approaching one of the most explosive orgasms she'd ever had in her life. As her pulse began to race, and her gasps to become almost frantic, she flung her arms round Karen, kissing her long and hard to prevent herself from actually screaming. When she actually came, she almost crushed Karen to her, internally squeezing her fingers, and letting out a strangled sound that in any other circumstance, would have meant she was in a great deal of pain.
As they lay afterwards, George attempting to bring her breathing under control, she briefly held Karen to her, momentarily enjoying the feeling of having most of Karen's weight resting on her, as she might with John in similar circumstances. "I'm sorry I didn't wait for you," George said drowsily. "That's perfectly all right," Karen said with a smile, dropping a kiss on George's shoulder as she moved to lie next to her. "I take it that withholding your reactions until the last minute, is worth it once in a while." "Just a bit," George admitted dryly. "Though I don't know if I could keep up an act like that very often." "Ah, well, the performance was marvelous," Karen said slowly, with the weight of an approaching bombshell. "But your excuse for getting rid of her left a lot to be desired. Telling Jo that you needed to turn the oven down, when you'd already told her you were on dessert. Do I need to say any more?" "Ah," George said in realisation, and then burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh, well," She said, quite unable to stop laughing. "If I'm going to well and truly fail at keeping her in the dark as to your nefarious activities, I may as well do it in style." As they continued making love, both in the lounge and upstairs in George's bed, Karen reflected that laughter suited George, and that it was something she should do more often.
Jo was a little puzzled by George's abrupt departure, but she didn't think any more about it until she was lying in bed that night. Then, just as she was drifting off to sleep, it dawned on her exactly why George had been slightly inattentive during their conversation. When George had said that she was otherwise engaged, she really had been. Groaning in sheer embarrassment, Jo felt as though she was blushing all over. Briefly hiding her head under the duvet, her moan of mortification became a slowly growing peal of laughter. Oh, dear, poor George. Karen must have been persistently teasing her whilst they were talking. George had said that Karen had her hands full, the double entendre being a perfect cover up. As she finally fell asleep, she vowed to have some fun with this.
The next morning, when Jo was doing her make up in the ladies' before court, she kept grinning at herself in the mirror, at how George had clearly dropped herself in it. Right on cue, George walked through the door. They made polite conversation for a little while, as George tugged a brush through her hair, the brisk March wind having left her looking like the wild woman of the west, and touching up her own make up. "Call me conventional, George," Jo said, thinking that the time had come. "But I always thought dessert came after dinner, not before." Whirling round to face her, mascara wand poised to apply an extra layer, George just stared at her. "Oh," She said eventually, a faint blush staining her cheeks. Jo's bright, warm smile left her in no doubt, that Jo had seen right through her feeble excuse of the night before. Jo began to laugh quietly. "Can I just die now?" George responded, also seeing the funny side. "With a request for no flowers or letters please." "You didn't have to answer the phone, you know," Jo persisted, her smile putting George at ease. "Yes, thank you, Karen was kind enough to make me aware of that last night. She said that my curiosity level is even higher than John's." "I hope I didn't entirely ruin your evening," Jo said, turning serious. "Oh, no," George drawled, a hint of flirtation in her tone. "On the contrary, it proved to be an added bonus. You've no idea just how explosive having to hide any vocal reactions can actually be." "And for you, that must have been incredible," Jo said dryly, but not missing the clear suggestion in George's voice. "Oh, yes," George replied with utter conviction, and as she dropped the mascara wand into her handbag, and strolled nonchalantly out of the door, Jo was left with the feeling that a line had been crossed.
Part Seventy
On the morning of Tuesday the eighth of March, Karen was sitting at her desk, wading her way through the usual morning's post. The circulars from area, the requests for accounts, and the letters from the concerned relatives of various inmates wanting some sort of a response from her, it was all the same as every other day. It was funny, Karen mused to herself, but the more experienced and the higher up the profession one rose, the more time one had to spend dealing with nameless, pointless admin, when what she actually wanted to do was to be left to get on with the job in hand. But right in the centre of the pile, was a very official-looking letter that bore the Prison Service logo, plus her name and the words "Private and Confidential," stamped in black ink on the envelope. Slipping her thumbnail under the seal, she opened the envelope and removed the letter. Her shout of "Yes!" brought her secretary's head round the door. "You are looking at your new Governing Governor," Karen told her in explanation, her grin spreading from ear to ear. "Congratulations," Sheila replied, seeing the sheer pleasure on Karen's face. Walking out of the office with a spring in her step, Karen almost danced towards her wing, except that it wasn't just her wing anymore. In a few weeks time, on the twenty-ninth of March to be exact, this would be her prison, her very own, bloody, prison! Seeing Grayling ahead of her, she called to him. When he turned round, he knew instantly what she had to tell him. The look of pure, unadulterated happiness on her face was really a sight to see. Karen held out the letter and watched him read it through. "Well done," He said, a broad smile spreading across his face. "I knew you'd get it." "I didn't want to count my chickens," She said seriously. "You really deserve this, Karen, more than anyone. I'll be proud to hand this place on to you." "Bloody relieved more like," Karen said with a smile, not feeling entirely comfortable with his words of encouragement. "I mean it," He said, laying a resting hand on her shoulder. "You'll do things with this prison, I know you will. Now, go and tell everyone, because I can see that's what you're itching to do." "Thank you, Neil," Karen said seriously. "I don't know all of what you said to area, but whatever you did say clearly made a difference." "And one of these days," Neil said in mock exasperation. "You will begin acknowledging that you got this job on merit and merit alone. Is that clear?" "Crystal, sir," she quipped back with a smile as she walked away towards the wing.
As she locked the gates of G wing behind her, she stood and surveyed the scene. Denny was playing Pool with one of the new inmates, whose name Karen couldn't immediately pluck from the recesses of her mind. The two Julies, G wing's longest serving veterans, and two of the fixtures and fittings, who would be sorely missed when they eventually left, were wiping down the servery. The Costa Cons, Karen knew that she shouldn't really accord them that title, were sat smoking, clearly plotting as to how to come by their next supply of gin and tonic. Al McKenzie and Darlene Cake, looked to be in the midst of an argument that may or may not turn nasty. Kris Yates, who reminded Karen of Nikki at times like this, was standing off to one side and also smoking. She was a woman who tried to remain on the sidelines, taking in everything around her, and avoiding any involvement with most of the other prisoners. Of Natalie Buxton, there was nothing to be seen, and Tina Purvis was sat at a table, writing either a letter or an essay for her education class. A broad, fond smile spread over Karen's face as she took in these familiar surroundings. Walking up to the Julies, a grin plastered on her face, she spontaneously put an arm round each of them, and began doing a mock imitation of a waltz. "Something good happened, has it, Miss?" Julie Saunders asked with a smile. "You could say that," Karen replied dryly. "Are you on something, Miss?" Denny asked with a cheeky little grin. "Only success," Karen told her, finally letting go of the Julies. "When Mr. Grayling leaves, at the end of this month, I will be taking over as your new Governing Governor." "Oh, that's brilliant, Miss," Julie S said, her smile broadening. "Yeah, well done, Miss," Julie J chimed in. "We never knew you was going for Grayling's job," Julie S put in, as if truly surprised at this turn of events. "Well, you don't know everything that goes on in this place, Julies," Karen said fondly. "Oh, you'd be surprised," Julie J replied. "There ain't much we don't know." "Aren't you pleased for her, Denny?" Julie S asked, looking over at Denny's glum face. "Being made queen of this shit heap, that ain't exactly something to be proud of, is it." Denny's harsh words cut Karen deeply. She'd mistakenly thought Denny would be pleased for her, but apparently not. "Just give her time," Julie S said as Denny walked away. "Yeah, she'll come round when she's got used to the idea," Julie J added. Then, as Sylvia came over to see what was going on, she said, "Eh, Miss, have you heard the latest, Miss Betts is going to be the new number one." "Oh, Marvellous," Sylvia said gloomily, as if all her nightmares had come at once. "I thought you'd be pleased," Karen said with a smirk. "You'll be getting rid of me at last." "Not far enough if you ask me." When Sylvia had stomped off in disgust, Karen couldn't help smiling. "Do either of you remember that song in the late eighties?" She asked. "I think it was called 'I love to hate you'. That could have been written about me and Sylvia. She's never so happy as when she's got something to moan about, and it's usually me." Julie J burst out laughing and Julie S grinned at the approaching figures of Dominic and Gina. "Are you two laughing at me again?" "No, at Bodybag, I mean Mrs. Hollamby," Julie S replied, her slip up making Karen grin. "I don't know," Tutted Gina with a smile. "Inciting inmates to mock your fellow officers. That's practically a sacking offence." "Not today it's not," Karen replied. "I got the job, so I'm allowed to be as outrageous as possible." "I said you'd walk it, didn't I," Gina responded, sounding incredibly pleased. "Well done," Dominic said, his boyish grin spreading from ear to ear. He stepped forward and gave Karen a quick impulsive hug. "You deserve it." A little while later, when Karen was about to leave the wing and go back to her office to actually do some work, Denny came up to her, looking extremely apologetic. "Miss," She said, coming to stand in front of Karen. "I'm sorry, about what I said. I am pleased for you, honest." "Thank you, Denny," Karen said quietly. "I won't be going that far away, I promise." As Karen let herself through the gate, Denny called after her. "Well done, man," Which made Karen smile.
When she phoned George at lunchtime, Karen hoped that she didn't have anything planned for that evening. "Are you busy this evening?" She asked, before enlightening her. "I don't think so. Why?" George sounded interested, though not overly intrigued. "Do you feel like celebrating?" Karen couldn't help teasing her slightly. "I might do. Why?" George asked suspiciously. "I got the job." "Oh, darling, well done!" George's pleasure came singing down the wire. "When do you officially take over?" "Tuesday the twenty ninth of March," Karen said, quickly glancing at the letter. "The day after Easter Monday." "So, what would you like to do this evening?" George drawled, in a voice that made Karen want to instantly drive to George's office, and screw her wherever they landed, no matter whom was watching. "Oh, I don't know," Karen mused, to give her a moment to come back to Earth. "I wouldn't mind getting slightly drunk, with you and only you, then who knows." "And a combination of ice cold Champagne and gloriously erect nipples, is the most intense feeling you'll ever have in your life," George purred, making Karen's eyes widen in anticipation. "I'll hold you to that," She said in sultry invitation. "Oh, believe me," George drawled as she stretched luxuriously. "It's incredible." After arranging a time to meet that evening, they said goodbye, Karen wondering how she was supposed to do any work that day, with the probability of an intensely satisfying evening ahead of her. As she replaced the receiver, George smirked wickedly at the Munnings above her desk. It was nice to know, that she could still make someone sexually aroused with her voice and voice alone.
Later that evening, George and Karen were lying side by side along the sofa in George's lounge, listening to some soft music, and drinking Champagne. "I haven't drunk Champagne as good as this for a long time," Karen said appreciatively, as George replaced her glass on the coffee table. "Ah, well, I didn't actually buy it," George admitted with a smile. "I went home and raided Daddy's cellar. On an occasion like this, you should only ever drink the real thing." At these words, Karen found herself remembering the time she'd drunk Champagne with Yvonne, on the Saturday in the middle of Ritchie's trial. But here, with this stunningly beautiful woman, the crackling log fire, and the large bowl of deliciously ripe strawberries on the coffee table, she couldn't be further removed from that summer evening party. "Are you happy?" She found herself asking George, definitely confirming the theory that she'd had too much to drink. "Very," George replied without any hesitation. "Are you?" "Yes," Karen answered softly. "Apart from the sporadic relationship I have with my son, things couldn't be better." "How often do you hear from him?" "Usually when he's run out of money," Karen said dryly. "Ever since he dropped out of college, Ross has only seen his mother as something that dispenses cash and unwanted advice in ever dwindling quantities. He'll probably be delighted when he hears about my significant rise in salary," She ended bitterly. "I think that's what Charlie sees me as sometimes," George said, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. "The one and only time she came to me for real help, was because John wouldn't give her what she wanted. I doubt if she'd have so much as told me if he'd supported her." "What happened?" "Charlie was sleeping with one of her lecturers and got herself pregnant. John behaved like the archetypal Victorian father, demanding to know what her lecturer was going to do about it. When Charlie told John she wanted a termination, he was furious. So, she came to me, as if suddenly remembering I existed. I think she assumed that I would help her get what she wanted, because it was what John didn't want. But Charlie was even less ready for the responsibility of a baby than I was when I had her." "Ross hasn't really ever forgiven me for getting involved with Fenner," Karen continued. "But then I think he's always seen it as his duty, to object to any of the men I've had in my life." "Charlie objected to Neil's politics more than anything. The arguments she had with him over the trade of live animals were monumental." "John told me once, that when he watched Charlie doing a presentation at College, she was the spitting image of you." "Oh, I hope not," George said with a smile. "Poor Charlie." "Telling Helen about my job's going to be an interesting conversation," Karen said dryly. "Why, do you think she won't be pleased?" "I'm not sure. It just might bring back some of the endless rows we had when she was Governing Governor, that's all." "Why don't we ask Helen and Nikki over for dinner?" George suggested. "At least then you'd be in relaxing surroundings, and have Nikki and I to referee." "Are you serious?" Karen asked, incredibly touched that George had thought of this. "Yes. Besides, I haven't seen much of your friends since the trial." Plucking a strawberry from the bowl on the table, George dipped it in her glass of Champagne, and ran it invitingly across Karen's lips. "You do like to live decadently, don't you," Karen said, after eating the strawberry. "It's the best way to live, occasionally," George replied, kissing her way along Karen's jawbone, until she could taste the Champagne on Karen's lips. "You're so good for me, do you know that?" Karen said between kisses. "Oh, am I now," George drawled, thinking that she wouldn't mind a few more compliments like that. As they continued kissing, George began caressing one of Karen's breasts through her blouse. This made Karen smile, because it was usually her who instigated any sexual contact, not George, and this seemed to say that George was becoming far more confident with the situation. Whenever they did touch like this, the first, initial contact seemed to set a match to their passion, making them almost frantically begin removing clothes, to be skin to skin as quickly as possible. "You're insatiable," George said between kisses, as her black lace bra was discarded and unceremoniously shoved under the sofa. "I'm just looking forward to seeing proof of your promise," Karen replied, as they moved as one to the softness of the enormous rug in front of the blazing log fire. "Who said that was a promise?" George asked, knowing Karen was referring to what she'd said about Champagne on naked skin earlier in the day. "And here I thought I'd found a woman who was definitely all talk and all action," Karen quipped, knowing George was teasing her. "Well, I suppose I do have a reputation to maintain." "Have you made love here often?" Karen asked, enchanted by the way the firelight played over George's body, giving her skin a rich, sensual glow that only served to make her look even more beautiful. "Almost as much as I have upstairs," George confirmed, as their hands began to wander at will. "I dread to think how much bodily fluid there is in the depths of this rug." "Yeah, too much information," Karen said with a laugh. "Well, you did ask," George said with a smirk.
Karen was languorously caressing George's breast, warmed by the heat of the fire, when the phone rang. George was all set to leave it, when she heard Jo's voice leaving a message on her answer phone. "George, are you in and otherwise engaged?" Came Jo's voice from the machine in her office across the hall. "Yes," Karen responded, though knowing that Jo couldn't hear her. "Or are you really out?" This was too much for George, whose curiosity rivalled even John's. Gently disentangling herself from Karen, she reached for the cordless on the table, and interrupted Jo's message. "I am here," She said, interrupting Jo in mid flow. "And yes, I am otherwise engaged, drinking Champagne and eating strawberries, and not remotely in the mood for talking about work." "Oh, any special occasion?" Jo asked, sounding intrigued. "Karen has just been made Governing Governor of Larkhall," George said, her voice filled with pride.
To get her back for answering the phone, Karen continued touching George's breast, grazing her thumb over an already erect nipple. "Tell her I said congratulations," Jo said, thoroughly pleased at Karen's success. "I will. You could talk to her yourself," George replied. "But she's got her hands full right now." Karen laughed silently, wondering if Jo would get George's meaning. But as Jo and George continued talking, Karen thought it was time to play George at her own game. Reaching for one of the glasses of Champagne on the coffee table, she dipped her finger in the icy, bubbly height of snobbery, and trailed her finger over the nipple she hadn't previously been touching. George hurriedly tried to stifle a gasp, and her eyes widened in shock. But as Karen took a swig of the Champagne, and began delicately sucking on said nipple, the feeling of her ice-cold lips, and the bubbles of the Champagne bursting on her skin, was driving George absolutely wild. Karen noticed with sincere enjoyment, that George was finding it increasingly difficult to carry on anything like a normal conversation with Jo, though she had to admit that George was putting on a BAFTA performance. As Karen continued her merciless ministrations, alternating between nipples, George screwed her face up in to any number of contortions, that only made Karen grin even more. But when Karen abandoned George's nipples, in favour of taking another mouthful of Champagne, George spared a thought to wonder just what Karen would do next, and to pray that she could keep her response to it from Jo. But what George wasn't prepared for, was for Karen to begin kissing her way down, until she was mercilessly swiping an extremely chilled tongue across George's clit. Her gasp was well and truly audible this time, but Jo didn't appear to notice. As Karen inched her still cool tongue into George's entrance, George decided that enough was enough. She just couldn't go on maintaining this level of detachment in the face of what Karen was doing to her. "I'm sorry, Jo," She said, trying not to groan in delight with every breath she took. "But I've got to go, to, to," She searched for a plausible excuse. "To turn the oven down. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Not waiting for Jo's reply, she switched off the cordless and sent it skidding across the carpet.
"How could you?" George asked, half in laughter, half in mortification, tugging on Karen's shoulder until they were at eye level again. "I didn't feel you complaining," Karen mocked, replacing her recently occupied tongue with her long, slender fingers. "That's not the point," George said between kisses, tasting a combination of herself and Champagne on Karen's lips. "I won't be able to look her in the face again after this." Further conversation was thwarted as Karen increased the speed in her wandering hand, causing George's breathing to quicken. "I'm sorry, darling," George gasped out. "But I'm not going to last very long." "Oh, go ahead," Karen encouraged, her hand moving even faster as George pulled her down to lie half on top of her. George couldn't believe it, all Karen was using on her was her hand, yet she knew she was approaching one of the most explosive orgasms she'd ever had in her life. As her pulse began to race, and her gasps to become almost frantic, she flung her arms round Karen, kissing her long and hard to prevent herself from actually screaming. When she actually came, she almost crushed Karen to her, internally squeezing her fingers, and letting out a strangled sound that in any other circumstance, would have meant she was in a great deal of pain.
As they lay afterwards, George attempting to bring her breathing under control, she briefly held Karen to her, momentarily enjoying the feeling of having most of Karen's weight resting on her, as she might with John in similar circumstances. "I'm sorry I didn't wait for you," George said drowsily. "That's perfectly all right," Karen said with a smile, dropping a kiss on George's shoulder as she moved to lie next to her. "I take it that withholding your reactions until the last minute, is worth it once in a while." "Just a bit," George admitted dryly. "Though I don't know if I could keep up an act like that very often." "Ah, well, the performance was marvelous," Karen said slowly, with the weight of an approaching bombshell. "But your excuse for getting rid of her left a lot to be desired. Telling Jo that you needed to turn the oven down, when you'd already told her you were on dessert. Do I need to say any more?" "Ah," George said in realisation, and then burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh, well," She said, quite unable to stop laughing. "If I'm going to well and truly fail at keeping her in the dark as to your nefarious activities, I may as well do it in style." As they continued making love, both in the lounge and upstairs in George's bed, Karen reflected that laughter suited George, and that it was something she should do more often.
Jo was a little puzzled by George's abrupt departure, but she didn't think any more about it until she was lying in bed that night. Then, just as she was drifting off to sleep, it dawned on her exactly why George had been slightly inattentive during their conversation. When George had said that she was otherwise engaged, she really had been. Groaning in sheer embarrassment, Jo felt as though she was blushing all over. Briefly hiding her head under the duvet, her moan of mortification became a slowly growing peal of laughter. Oh, dear, poor George. Karen must have been persistently teasing her whilst they were talking. George had said that Karen had her hands full, the double entendre being a perfect cover up. As she finally fell asleep, she vowed to have some fun with this.
The next morning, when Jo was doing her make up in the ladies' before court, she kept grinning at herself in the mirror, at how George had clearly dropped herself in it. Right on cue, George walked through the door. They made polite conversation for a little while, as George tugged a brush through her hair, the brisk March wind having left her looking like the wild woman of the west, and touching up her own make up. "Call me conventional, George," Jo said, thinking that the time had come. "But I always thought dessert came after dinner, not before." Whirling round to face her, mascara wand poised to apply an extra layer, George just stared at her. "Oh," She said eventually, a faint blush staining her cheeks. Jo's bright, warm smile left her in no doubt, that Jo had seen right through her feeble excuse of the night before. Jo began to laugh quietly. "Can I just die now?" George responded, also seeing the funny side. "With a request for no flowers or letters please." "You didn't have to answer the phone, you know," Jo persisted, her smile putting George at ease. "Yes, thank you, Karen was kind enough to make me aware of that last night. She said that my curiosity level is even higher than John's." "I hope I didn't entirely ruin your evening," Jo said, turning serious. "Oh, no," George drawled, a hint of flirtation in her tone. "On the contrary, it proved to be an added bonus. You've no idea just how explosive having to hide any vocal reactions can actually be." "And for you, that must have been incredible," Jo said dryly, but not missing the clear suggestion in George's voice. "Oh, yes," George replied with utter conviction, and as she dropped the mascara wand into her handbag, and strolled nonchalantly out of the door, Jo was left with the feeling that a line had been crossed.