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.
