How I Met My Soon To Be Wife

I walked past a girl at a wedding. She was alone sitting on a small sofa in the lobby. I stopped, said hello, she didn't want to talk but she did. Seems she was dumped by her boyfriend the day before and she was not in the party mood. I suggested we go to roof, where the pool was and there was a bar and a nice view of the ocean. Once there she accepted a glass of wine, opened up, we had a real good heart to heart talk. And she cried on my shoulder.

Being one of those guys taught to never let an opportunity go to waste. She went down to my room and let me undress her. In the light of the small lamp on the nightstand she looked pretty sexy to me right then. Getting her panties off, her oh so full bare butt, her smallish breasts, her trimmed bush, all of her available to me, I fucked her that night. Maybe revenge on her part, but she was slippery wet, hot, willing, a great fuck.

She spent the night with me, I used the freight elevator the next morning to get her down to her room, and she let me watch her change into street clothes, letting me kiss her pussy before she pulled up her orange panties. We went up to the poolside for breakfast, where we ran into her mom. Who, by the way, was not pleased that her daughter left the party for a fuck and an overnight with a guy she just met.

I understood, letting the lady know that I would be just as pissed off if it had been my sister. The young lady reminded me she was not my sister. Touché. So where are we now, these two years later. She finished college last June, planned an outside wedding, called her ex-boyfriend and told him to fuck off, and we are getting married on the 25th at the very same hotel.

And she is right, she is not my sister. She's the girl, excuse me, woman I fuck. And she is going to be my wife.