A pipe organ lets out a beautiful song as the doors of a grand cathedral open to a groom and his bride in his arms, walking down the steps, leaving the cheers and claps behind them as they enter a black limousine, kissing each other, as the driver closes the door. The twenty-two year old Wilma watches as the limo carrying her sister, Olivia, and her newly gained brother-in-law, Caleb, off to their hotel to change before the reception later tonight.
Pulling her weeping father and mother to their rental car, while they weep over how this was the most beautiful thing they've ever been a part of, Wilma chuckles at her parents' overreactions and thinks about how the couple will be exhausted once they get to the hotel.
'Oh who am I kidding, she's probably already on top of him and I wouldn't be surprised if she comes to her own reception late with cum running down her legs.'
Catching her eye, from across the parking lot, are the groom's brother and father; well, now her brother-and father-in-law since a couple minutes ago, walking towards their car. The father, Elijah, wiping the corner of his eyes lightly, shoving his laughing nineteen year old son, Jamel, away as they speak in a mix of Spanish and English.
Wilma is well-versed enough in the language to understand the conversation, but knows enough to read the body language of both men. From what she can tell Jamel was making fun of his father over crying at the wedding and to be 'more of a man' or something similar. That was her guess as she never interacted much with them beyond hearing stories the Caleb would tell about the crazy things that seemed to follow him and his family during their time doing international music tours.
As she curiously watches the two of them curiously enter their car, Jamel meets her eyes from across the distance startling her. The two hold the connection for what Wilma felt was at least five minutes, which in reality was three seconds at most, before he smiles, waves and enters his surprisingly nice rental car, driving his father and himself away. Shaking off whatever that feeling is, she tells her aging parents that no, they aren't going to be late and that they still have hours until the reception while entering the driver's seat and begins moving their group towards their hotel.
Three hours later, Wilma stands in front of her mirror near nude in plain white underwear, with three dresses sitting behind her on the hotel bed, pinching at her body as she finds that she grew a bit plumper the last time she really focused on herself.
Trying to think back to the last time she went out to a party or a fancy dinner, it has been nearly four years ago, before she and her friends had thought up the grand idea to start a restaurant, with her as the head chef. While she wouldn't change nor slow down her career in the least, especially when their restaurant is finally in the green and growing in popularity.
Her putting on a couple pounds, mostly around her belly and thighs doesn't feel the best, though her breasts growing to the C-cups she always thought were sexy was a plus. Crossing her arms underneath her teardrop breasts, lifting them up a bit and shakes them side to side to watch them move. Only the vibrations of her phone knocks her out of the visual exploration of her body.
Going through her messages, she finds the group chat with her best friends messaging back and forth. Knowing that they'll definitely help her out, she types out a request to help her pick a dress for the reception later on, sending them three pictures of her in choice dresses.
W: So what do you think? Should I go for the off-the-shoulder crème jumpsuit, the sleeveless red maxi dress, or the black lace mini-dress with this underwear?
K: oooh I wasn't expecting nudes at 11 am but I am not opposed to what I'm seeing ;)
T: Wilma please I'm a married woman, I can't take you as my mistress, think of the gossip!
J: So this how girls feels to be apart of The Boys, hmm enlightening
W: please be serious, I have to get dressed and help set up the reception hall
T: fine spoilsport, go for the jumpsuit. It looks good on you and makes you look like the millionaire bachelorette you're always meant to be.
K: I'll say the red one, curves on all the right spaces and who doesn't love a good red color
J: Willy don't listen to these bitches they clearly don't know what they're talking about
K: wow bubble guppy, rude
T: You do know I still write your paychecks
J: Willy don't listen to this bitch and the other wonderful work of art, they clearly don't know what they're talking about.
There's three important things that need to be answered, numero uno are you looking to have fun, support your sister or catch someone's eye?
Wilma immediately thinks to the moment Jamel locked his dark-hazel-brown eyes with her and remembers even further back this week when she first saw him at the airport towering over her five foot five frame with his six foot four height; how his hands were so smooth but still near iron grip even when she tell he was being gentle; the tingle in her belly when she saw his hidden athletic muscles revealed, as he took off his jacket. She replies faster than she can think,
W: catch someone's eye
T: Gasp, someone thinking of taking our Willy away?! Say it isn't so Katty!
K: I'm afraid it's so Titi, I have to diagnose her with smitten
J: Shut up you're going to scare her off and she's just not going to go!
NumΓ©ro Deux, since you're trying to catch someone's eye, would you say that you want something physical with them?
Wilma sits on her bed, crossing her legs as she imagines Jamel's dark, warm arms wrapping themselves underneath her breasts, as he whispers in her ear in a language she doesn't understand but knowing by the tone of his heavy voice that he wants her so, so badly.
W: Absolutely
T: :0
K: :0