Something About Her (Prologue)

♥ Will’s latest post left me breathless. I loved the wonderful mystery of it, and how the reader didn’t know exactly what had brought her to that point and let that man use her like he did. I felt compelled to explore it, and came up with what might have happened before that fateful moment with the mystery man.

She wasn’t the most beautiful woman in the room. She was a bit too lushly built, her nose a bit too long, her mouth a bit too full, but the men still stared over their perfectly primped Stepford wives or moved each other out of the way for a second look at her. She made a slow circuit around the room, a raven amongst peacocks. She sweat underneath her second-hand dress, but she refused to show her fear in front of these people. Her publisher had sent her there to dazzle them, and dazzle them she would.

Men approached her a bit too confidently, wondering at her cheap dress and her expensive pearls –they figured she could be bought, since they thought they saw a rich man’s fingerprints on her.Their noses quivered once they were near enough and detected a strange and heady perfume that smelled like nothing they had ever encountered…priceless.

She was scared. She could see the surface of the wine in the Waterford goblet she held in her hand tremble, but she still smiled into their predatory faces. She looked around for a kind face, for someone who didn’t look like they wanted to fuck her or strangle her, but she found none. She looked up at the face of one of her benefactors and smiled at it. He didn’t look like he cared about Kierkegaard or dadaism – he simply wanted to see her painted mouth forming around her words. It made her feel pornographic. Her stomach turned and she excused herself and focused her swimming vision on the bar and walked toward it. She could barely feel her legs, but she would not collapse in front of these people.

She would do her publisher proud.

She felt a burst of relief when her hand found the counter of the bar and she could put the heavy goblet down and breathe, but once she did she felt the bald heads of tears threatening to ruin the perfectly painted makeup around her eyes. She exhaled slowly and looked around…

He stood in a darkened corner, fingering an empty glass with a lime curl laying limply at the bottom of it. He wasn’t even looking out at the crowd of people — all she could see was the cut of his jaw, the long line of his nose ending right above his lovely mouth, which was pursed with boredom. He rolled the glass between his hands, then brought it to his lips for a sip at the melted ice on the bottom. Her pussy twitched when she saw a flash of moist pink as he opened his mouth to drink. Her chest burned, and she realized that she hadn’t inhaled since she lay eyes on him. She sucked in breath hungrily and asked the bartender for water, and promptly got a bubbling glass with a day-glo green lime curl.


She placed her lips on the rim of the glass, closed her eyes and drank. Her cunt throbbed with her secret knowledge.

His drink, she thought as the bubbles tickled her belly.

She heard a quiet voice beside her. He stood there with another drink in his hand. Her stomach fluttered, but her face was serene — she’d had years of practice. He smelled of green things; of the juicy, weeping inside of bruised leaves undercut with musk…his musk.   Her mouth watered and she tried to remain cool as she looked out at the party.  They observed them behind hooded eyes.

“Tough crowd,” he said softly, his mouth curling into an improbably smirk. She turned to him a bit too quickly. His voice is surprisingly raspy , she thought. She pushed away the image of him whispering something dirty in her ear, his voice reduced to a growl that made her clit vibrate hard and fast as a freshly hit tuning fork.

She nodded slowly. Her toes curled inside her heels.

“Is it like this all the time?” she asked. He nodded his head and gave her a sidelong glance. His eyes were gold, amber as the chandelier light shining over their heads. Sweet Jesus, she thought, and felt her pussy lips swell and start to slide against each other. He turned toward her and gave her a long look that made her nipples hard. She felt them tingling underneath her dress as she turned toward him, knowing he would notice it, and respond. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair and she got a momentary flash of him roughly pulling her long hair out of its fancy up do. She heard the tiny pearls woven into it hitting the floor, heard herself moan when he grabbed a handful of it in his fist and pressed his lips into her neck for the first time.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re strong enough to deal with it.” His eyes dropped to her naked shoulders, which were supple from dancing and swimming. He jutted his hips out, and she wondered whether he was beginning to throb like her.

She whimpered and pretended to clear her throat. Her pussy seeped onto her thighs, and she knew she was blushing. Oh God, let him think it’s the wine, she thought. She reached for her drink but grabbed thin air. When she looked down, she noticed his glass sitting on the counter, alone. Her eyes followed the line of his shoulder to his face and her glass was in his hand, almost to his mouth. He had aligned it so that the pale pink ring of her lip gloss would touch his lips when he drank…he pressed his lips to it and drank deeply, then licked his lips discreetly when he was done. He didn’t look at her directly but she felt him gauging her response. She felt the expanse of naked skin underneath her dress tingling now, and somehow knew that he knew she wasn’t wearing panties, or a bra. She felt his hands reaching underneath her dress and sliding between her slick thighs to find her cunt –

“Sorry to be so forward, but is that violets I smell?” he whispered, bringing his face closer to her neck. His aquiline nose came so close to her she felt when he breathed in the hot air around her face.

“Yes…yes it is,” she said. In her mind, her hands had found his cock and she rubbed it over his pants. So hard, she thought, as he pulled down her dress and sucked a nipple into his mouth and bit it softly. Her fingers fumbled on his zipper and finally pulled him free and stroked him while he fingerfucked her, his thumb pressed almost painfully on her clit-

“I really like it — it’s both innocent and…um, not,” he finished, and put the empty glass down. In her mind, he turned her around and pressed his cock on the slippery crack of her ass and rubbed himself on it. He pinched her clit with one hand and her nipples with another, his mouth close to her ear and sighing. Her dress was a sweaty, wrinkled tube on her abdomen, her hair was loose and wanton, and her pearls clicked when his hand moved to her neck and squeezed lightly, no doubt to feel her rushing pulse. “Do you want it?” he growled between sighs, and she nodded and let out a sob-

“Yes,” she said out loud. He turned to her, his gold pupils dilated. Her knees trembled and she knew for a fact he’d noticed. He put his hands in his pocket and she heard him jingling his keys. Her heart pounded, but she stood up straight and looked toward the door.

“I think I’ll be leaving now – I’m all partied out,” he said, looking right into her eyes. She didn’t blink, but he broke her gaze and looked down at his pale, graceful hands, the ghost of a smile on his face.

He walked toward the door, not looking back. In ten beats of her heart, she followed.

Categories: Dominance & Submission, Erotica, Fantasy, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Sex with Strangers, XimenaTags: , , , , , , , ,


I undulate in your vision
A strange beauty
in a world of plastic, collagen and steel
The endearing oddball
the living, breathing Picasso that you want to figure out
but too afraid to venture into my penumbra
you cower at the gate, fingering the knob on the door to my most secret place
wishing you could find the courage to walk with me
love me, just as I am


  1. Love it. Somehow, Ximena, you keep the inexplicable, inexplicable. Why was she wearing nothing under her clothes? Had she already seen him elsewhere?

    One other thing… I’m so intractably shallow (read “a man”) that I always imagine all my women to be perfect 10’s (even if that’s not how I describe them). I love your description of her.

    I never spend enough time on that.

  2. ximenawrites

    Somehow, Ximena, you keep the inexplicable, inexplicable.

    No matter how hard we try or how good we are, how can any writer really explain the nuances of sexual attraction? We can only describe what happens, but not why it is.

    One other thing… I’m so intractably shallow (read “a man”) that I always imagine all my women to be perfect 10′s (even if that’s not how I describe them). I love your description of her.

    I had a bit of a giggle after reading this sentence. I’m afraid female writers are guilty of the same crime, but it’s not major. I think describing the character — endearing flaws and all — gives them humanity, and helps to bring the narrative down from the realm of pure fantasy to something that could really have happened between two people, which hopefully makes it more arousing.

  3. nilla

    a great prologue…gods i LOVED this…the two of You are great bouncing off each other.


    i think that came out wrong.

    maybe not??



  4. Meme

    Quite a nice addition to his view.
    As a woman see’s her heart displayed in another’s eyes…she immediately knows it’s him.
    Love and sex are they just dances to find the other?

    Just a different take I guess~


    • ximenawrites

      As a woman see’s her heart displayed in another’s eyes…she immediately knows it’s him.
      Love and sex are they just dances to find the other?

      I’ve been reading these lines over and over again, they’re so beautiful…and true.

  5. I loved it. Beautifully done. Of course now I have to go back and read Will’s post again to follow the story to completion. *Sigh* At some stage I should just give up on wearing underwear and start sitting on towels to read this blog.

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