THE MEETING
She was stunning in her understated elegance and beauty.
She was wearing a simple ivory coloured wraparound dress that showed off the curves of her luscious body perfectly. The exquisitely cut and obviously expensive designer dress came to just above her knees, and there was no denying the beauty of her long sexy bare legs, heightened by a pair of open toed, strappy 3 inch Manolo Blahnik heels.
She was bare of all accessories except for a stunning diamond studded crucifix nestled in her cleavage and another similarly fiery diamond solitaire on her ring finger. Her pretty, angelic face was framed by flawless wavy shoulder length hair, expertly and expensively layered. She had bright sparkling brown eyes and a shy innocent smile framed by a pair of the cutest dimples. Her long elegant fingers were tipped with trendy French manicured nails. Heck, even her feet looked sexy. She was literally flawless right down to her beautifully pedicured toes.
Unlike the stick thin models so popular these days, she was unusual in that she had curves to die for. From the way they bounced when she walked, it was clear to see that her beautifully shaped breasts were not augmented by those pesky, deceiving push-up bras, and the sway of her hips suggested a taut, firm ass flaring out from that impossibly slim waist.
She was easily the best dressed, best looking, and sexiest woman at the reception, the one receiving all the glances and double takes from the surrounding men, and even some of the women.
The face of an angel, on a body of sin.
Most specifically, she piqued my interest and stirred my loins because I could sense she possessed that rarest of abilities - to be able to transition from her innocent, demure, girl-next-door demeanour to that of a sultry, coquettish vixen in an effortless instant.
"Wow, who is that?" I asked my friend, the host. "She's hot!"
"Don't even go there, dude...she's Sara Chin, only daughter and heir to one of the wealthiest families in Singapore, and engaged to be married to the son of a high ranking minister. It's to be the highest profile wedding in years...where have you been?"
I spied a fairly nondescript guy hovering around her.
"Lucky bastard, fucking that hot piece of ass every night!" I muttered.
"Well, if that recent magazine feature is anything to go by, neither he nor anybody else for that matter has fucked her yet....apparently her entire family including herself are very religious, she had most of her education in a very private and exclusive girls-only school run by nuns. She went on record to say that she is looking forward to consummating the union with her first and only love on their wedding night....but no sooner." my friend shrugged.
"You mean she's a virgin?"
"Apparently so....yet she's an exceptionally classy and good-looking virgin and she knows it.
In the photo shoot that accompanied that magazine feature, she was dressed in all that high-class haute-couture stuff, and looked way classier and sexier than the usual sluts you see on FHM or Maxim. Indeed, just by the impact of those sizzling photos, that particular magazine issue sold out in hours, and instantly became a cult classic. But you can forget it...this one's out of your league for sure...she's super exclusive and very unattainable, even by someone of your reputation, or should I say especially by someone with your reputation. Your usual routine of getting them drunk and disinhibited then bonking them is not going to work on her."
"Hey, alcohol's a man's best friend, don't you know? But give me more credit than that...I have many tricks up my sleeve. When I'm done seducing her, she'll be begging for me to fuck her senseless. I'll turn her into a complete and willing slut, alcohol or no alcohol. When did you say the wedding was again?"
"Next Saturday."
Perfect.
THE CLUMSY WINE SPILL
The evening was drawing to a close and guests were taking their leave. I saw her heading upstairs, most likely to the ladies' room. This was my opportunity. I dawdled for a few minutes, then made my way up, holding a large glass of wine.
I was in luck, the restrooms were at the quiet and secluded corner of the villa.
I hovered discreetly outside the Ladies' washroom, and as the door swung open, I made sure it made contact with my hand holding the wine glass.
"Whoah!" I exclaimed as the red fluid spilled all over my suit.
"Oh my goodness!" Sara exclaimed as she emerged from the Ladies' and realised what had just happened, "I've ruined your nice suit!"
"It's ok. It's only my Armani. Not one of my favourites anyway." I replied as she started fussing over me, trying to peel off my jacket to gauge the extent of the damage to my shirt, "Every night I dream that a gorgeous woman would undress me, but this is not quite how I envisioned it to be!"
I could see her blushing pink, making her cheeks that were already reddened by alcohol even rosier. "Haha you wish, but really, I am so sorry. I must insist you take your shirt off and allow me to have it cleaned professionally."
"Normally I would never decline a beautiful woman's request to remove my clothing, but I don't even know you. Rather presumptuous, aren't we?!?" I deadpanned.
"Hmmm, you're quite the cheeky charmer, aren't you!" she gave me a quick eye-roll before continuing, "I'm Sara."
"Very pleased to meet you, Sara. I'm Ben, and I've never set my eyes on anyone as pretty as you, especially while wearing a ruined shirt."
"You are very sweet, Ben." she blushed again as she shyly looked at me with her large doe-like eyes, "If you won't allow me to clean your shirt for you, then how can I make amends for this?"
"Erm....ok, maybe now it's my turn to be presumptuous, but how about you give me a kiss?" I suggested, making my move.
"K-kiss you? Here? But but....." she blurted, totally surprised and caught off guard.
"It's ok. I figured you're weren't sincere in your apology anyway."
"Noooo! That's not true! I really am sorry about your shirt! It's just tha...." her reply was cut off as my face slowly closed in on hers.
She gasped with surprise as our lips made contact, but the initial tension quickly eased as her biological, carnal instinct took over. As i wrapped my arm to pull her soft, curvy body against me, there was only a brief, token resistance. As her soft yet firm breasts pressed against my chest, I could even feel her hardening nipples through my thin, wet shirt, and I made sure she could feel my erection growing against her thigh.
As her lips parted, I made sure my tongue began its journey to explore the inner reaches of her mouth, and I wasn't too surprised to find her tongue starting to do likewise, at first hesitantly, then gradually, more passionately as her desire grew.
After what seemed like a few minutes of gentle exploration, we disengaged for air. I could see her wanting more...her mouth remained longingly open and her eyes dreamily shut.
"Are we good now?" she whispered softly.
"Oh we're very good, but the kiss still tells me you're insincere. You hardly kissed me at all. I had to do most of the hard work." I replied, recalling a scene from a movie I once watched.
"Hey, not fair at all! You tricked me!" she replied as she smacked me on the arm indignantly, her eyes now very wide open.
"What, you mean you didn't like it?" I asked innocently, my arms still wrapped around her waist, my hands still gently caressing the base of her spine through her dress, tracing the outline of her very delicate thong.
"Yes I liked it, very much, bu....." she started to justify herself, but I had to cut her off. I could hear footsteps approaching, and I didn't want anyone to bear witness to my seduction.
"You still owe me a kiss then. Goodbye, insincere Sara!"
With a last playful smack of her butt, I picked up and straightened out my Armani jacket and promptly took off.
THE WEDDING GOWN FITTING
I had to make some very discrete enquiries over the next few days, and soon worked out my plan.
It was late afternoon in a historic part of town. Sara was getting her final gown fitting at the most exclusive wedding dress designers, Ted's, whose clientele included numerous ultra-wealthy individuals, high society folk, and even some royalty. He was famously effeminate, flamboyant, and as queer as a three dollar bill, with a penchant for pretty Thai boys and expensive French wine.
I had waited 40 minutes past his closing time, then very quietly tiptoed up to the second floor shophouse and peeped through the curtains, making sure I got my timing just right, for Sara to be in a perfectly vulnerable position, before ringing the bell.
"Sorry we closed for the day!" Ted yelled as he dramatically sashayed over, "Ooooh who have we here?" as he looked me over from head to toe.
"I'm here to see Sara. It's a surprise." I said softly, putting a finger to my lips.
"You're the fiancé? I must say she's chosen rather well!" Ted gushed in approval. "But I thought she mentioned you were only coming back late tonight?"
"I took an earlier flight. I wanted to surprise her, remember?"
