In a cloud of perfume she enters the club. Her hair is worn wild; her nails filled perfectly, her lips are painted deep jungle red. Her best colour is black, and the clothes on her back, show she's a woman with style. Her taste in the satins and lace she wears is impeccable, she'll tell you it runs in her blood, She walks into the room. And it comes to a stop when she does.
As all heads turn towards her, she knows what they are thinking. The women are jealous, they want to be her, want to be that image of perfection that all the men are drooling over, they want to be able to wear her colours, tease their hair into that wild mass, that looks so... stunning.
The men, they just want her, each and every one of them. Their eyes are popping out of their heads; their tongues have hit the floor. She notices the sad individuals who are hard from just looking at her.
But she holds her head high, wanders towards the bar, and waits for the first offer. Sooner or later someone will have the guts to buy her a drink. She perches herself on a barstool, crossing her long lithe legs, giving a sneekypeek of pantyless crotch to all those still watching her, even some of the women, who glance away shamefaced at being caught.
Slowly one bold soul rises from his table, saunters over to her and offers her the drink that she's been waiting for.
'I'm not thirsty' she says. 'Not for that.'
He blushes and glances back at his friends, who all throw back grins and signs of encouragement.
'My place or yours' she purrs, as she slides of the barstool, takes his hand, and begins to lead him towards the door.
* * * * *
By the time they reach her apartment he's horrny as hell. She was stroking his leg, right up to the crotch, the whole time they'd been in the taxi. No other words had been spoken, he'd never even actually answered her question, she'd just led him to the taxi and ordered the driver to go to her place. And now they were here, and he was about to get laid by the most mysterious woman he'd ever met. It was the stuff of men's fantasies, wait until he tells his friends, they would never believe it if they hadn't seen him leave with ms mystery.
But back to the task at hand he thought, as he came out of his daydream and back to present. She was unlocking her door, and as it opened he saw inside, a thousand glimmering lights. Well maybe not a thousand, but certainly a large number of candles were burning throughout the huge room. He was stunned as she led him inside, pushed him down on the couch, straddled him and kissed him with passion he'd never felt before.
Immediately he felt a stirring inside his pants as her tongue darted around his mouth, exploring every nook and cranny it could find. He wound his arms around her waist and reversed the situation, sliding his tongue into her mouth, and consequently pushing hers out of his. She didn't like that; she backed off, stood, and went to the wet bar.
* * * * *
Why did he have to do that, she screamed in her head, she couldn't let a man get control, she had never let a man have control over her. Not since... as her mind wandered back to that fateful day, when her life was turned upside down....
She could remember the way he'd pulled her T-shirt above her breasts, he couldn't even be bothered to undress her properly. As he fondled her still youthful breasts she'd thought that she was being very grown up, she'd thought that this was what it was all about, that once you had sex, then you were a grown up. She didn't know how wrong she was.
By the time he'd started tugging at her shorts she'd realized what a mistake she'd made. She wasn't ready for this, but it was too late, he knew what he wanted, and he was going to have it, no matter what she said. At first she tried to fight, but when she realized it was futile, she lay back, and did her best impression of a sack of potatoes.
As he finally pulled off her shorts and thrust his fingers into her virgin cunt, she began to sob.
As he shoved his hard throbbing prick into her mouth, and began thrusting it back and forwards, she tried to shut off her mind.