The story begins with X. X is what one would typically refer to as a normal man, a sane man. Of course he is strong, and devilishly charming. Wonderful with both women and men, although is interests lie much more with women, shunning his own gender out of the polite masculine disgusts that makes most men prefer women. To prefer the company of men is one thing, of course, but to share more intimate moments would be undignified.
There is nothing undignified about X. He is entirely in control of his situation. And truly that is where all the trouble begins for him. When one desires nothing but absolute control it must finally be accepted that control is not what you will be allowed to have. And so, this is where X ends up, you see. Wanting those things he cannot have, simply because he wants them.
The story begins, we should say more correctly with X making the decision to end the affair he has been having of late with Mademoiselle Tech. Tech, has been a part of his life for the last six months, and although he found her at first very alluring, as with most things he has grown bored with her.
Early one sunny Saturday morning as she served him a polite brunch, he drank deeply of his coffee, took a bite of toast, and rose. He pulled Tech to him, kissed her politely on the cheek, and said quietly "It‘¯s over". With that he walked out into the sunshine crossed to his expensive car and drove away. Thinking nothing more of it.
Over the next several weeks as he attended fashionable social parties he glimpsed Tech across the crowd. It is more accurate to say that she glimpsed him, as he was entirely unaware of her presence in the room, and took no notice of her whatsoever, but she paid careful attention to him.
As the ever so popular Christmas ball season rolled around X found himself with more than average numbers of engagements, and in his love for himself decided it was better to be overbooked than not to be booked at all and R.S.V.Ped to all of the parties without paying any attention to whom was throwing the gala or where. And true to his style he made at least a cursory appearance at each event he had engaged himself to.
It was at the fifth ball in his week, on Wednesday, when he met for the first time Lila. Lila was absolutely exquisite. He noticed her immediately even across the crowded hall. Her hair was the flaming and flamboyant strawberry red that was so natural and so unnatural all at the same time.
Her body was petite with milk white skin that flowed smoothly under the strapless black dress that she was wearing. The dress was cut like an hourglass, revealing her uncovered stomach on both sides, and curving gently up to cover her more than ample breasts which bobbed freely in the fabric without any obvious restraint. Her neck had a sunken hollow in which a small tear shaped diamond wept perfectly, and he wanted nothing more than to press his eyes against it, and see if the tear would fit on his face as easily as if fit on her chest. She was a vision of loveliness.
Her shoes, even where shaped much like her dress with straps that crisscrossed up her legs making them look longer and even more perfect, naked with no stockings. He suspected, as he watched her move that she wore no undergarments at all, and that she would have preferred to come naked to this ball rather than clothed. The way in which she moved seemed more suited to nudity then to clothing, and he would have loved dearly to have helped her to avail herself of the confining clothes, even with a large crowd to watch. She seemed the kind of women made for a public display, something to be oohed, and ahhed over in an arena by many men and women in costume dress.
He watched her carefully for a while, forgetting that he was scheduled to depart this party for yet another. He watched her flirt with base bachelors, and married men, and he took in her form, and intricate shape, and finally decided that he could stand it no more.
He causally crossed the hall, and managed to be standing next to her and the small group of men who were speaking to her. Men had flocked around her all night. They were attracted by her looks and the by the smell of youth and innocence that wafted from her.
As he stood beside her he caught a whiff of what could only be strawberries. Strawberries in her perfume or on her hair, the scent maddening and stirring his desire more.
"And so, as you can see it is the complete inability to justify his actions that makes him such and interesting character. Why, the book, of course, is as well known as it is." Some old buffoon finished as X walked forward and allowed his arm to brush that of Lila.
"Yes, either that or you ability to read the dust jacket." Lila responded. The buffoon blushed beat red from the top of his shiny baldhead to the turkey gobbler neck the waddled above his bow tie.
X laughed as well, and introduced himself politely, and she the same. He managed to cut in and cut her off from the party, to which Lila was not only amiable but seemed actually quite pleased. As if she were expecting him to come for him. Her attitude was waiting and expectant. Her lips seemed never to close all the way, and the way in which she held herself seemed to be both an offering and acceptance of an offer.
Lila suggest a drink, and they wandered away from the crowd to a more secluded part of the ball. They were outside now, with the stars overhead, looking across the blackened garden and topiary bushes that were growing about. Obviously much cared for and loved by some hand.
Their glasses her empty, and she scooped X glass before he could complain. "Stay here" she said and moved her lips towards his. He felt nothing but the gentle caress of her tongue running along the expectant opening of his mouth before she skipped lightly away, and entered the hall.
He looked up at the stars, and out across the garden. He felt a hand on his back and turned to see Lila‘¯s eyes smiling and laughing at him at the same time. She offered him his drink, which looked to be a whisky on ice, and he drank it fully in one swallow and grabbed her in his arms.