<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/0zxiZQd.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>: Diane Windward (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=337584.msg16046360#msg16046360)<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Road->Front Door<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Red Cardigan, White Blouse, Jeans, Socks, Sneakers, bra, panties<br/><strong>Content Warning</strong>: None Yes<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Whoever Wants to Answer the Door<br/><hr/><br/>Diane idly wondered if her car would make it up the canyon road. It did last week, but with The Little Engine That Could, her pet name for the sixteen year old gray Fiat that served as a lifeline for her income, one could never be sure, especially going uphill. Not for the first time, those thoughts strayed from there into the territory of why she was doing this in the first place. Last week's trip was about driving a sizeable food delivery to a party here up in the hills, and had resulted in a sizeable tip on the way back down. And something else unexpected.<br/><br/>Which brought her to this time. There was a bunch of food in the trunk again, and there was definitely another party at the top of it - but this time she wasn't coming as the delivery girl, at least not primarily, but as a guest. The invite had come without warning, a call from the blue from someone she was sure she'd never see again, except maybe on TV. But her putative host was insistent. Mysterious at first actually. Just like at the delivery itself, they weren't really upfront as to what was going on. Until she swore to super-secrecy.<br/><br/>Then came the shock. The party was a gathering to enjoy adult card game. Yes, that was the polite way to put it. At first, Diane's answer was a shocked<em>I can't...</em>but somehow the idea wormed itself over the week. And they just kept calling. She signed the papers, but she told herself she was just doing it to protect the people who had gone out of their way to invite her. To make her welcome. And being welcomed brought its own attractions until...<br/><br/>Long story short, here Diane was driving up through the gates, telling herself that she could still walk away. Just say thanks and leave the food. Just being polite, that's all. She parked The Little Engine and popped the trunk, pulling out her last delivery of the night - the one she called in herself. She paused for a moment. Was she really doing this? Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Then with one more deep breath, Diane reached forward and rang the doorbell.