When guests had arrived at Matt and Linda's wedding they arrived up the long, sweeping gravel drive of a magnificent country mansion. Ancient oak trees lined the approach and as the road broadened to a gravel flat upon which horse-drawn carriages had trotted for centuries, the finest example of pre-Victorian country mansions came in to full view. What a place for a wedding.
The spectacular venue made it even more surprising that I was invited since catering for each guest must have come at some considerable expense and I had only known the happy couple when we were much younger. In fact I had only really known Matt and his siblings.
As I cast my eyes around the guests it was, to use a hackneyed expression, like stepping back in time. There had been no strict dress code but everyone, especially the women, had done a stunning job in matching their attire to the location. All of a sudden at seemed as if it was some kind of dream in which, lithe, elegant ladies floated between rooms on gusts of summer breeze, neck-(or sometimes collar... or cleavage...) to toe in the most gorgeous of simple yet beautiful full-length dresses.
Standing in one of the many resplendent drawing rooms of the building I was approached by one of these visions in flowing silk.
About 3 inches shorter than my 6' 2", tumbling, silky brunette locks that begged for a hand to be run through them. Mahogany brown eyes that were somehow radiant despite their colour set back under lids made just subtly dark by the perfect application of make-up. An elegantly small mouth with the softest looking small pink rosebud lips smiled an illuminating smile at me.
"Joe!"
I was dumbfounded. I'm always one to try to be a gentleman but I couldn't help letting my eyes slide languorously over the supple, lithe body wrapped in gorgeous red silk down to her toes, strapless, the neck cut straight above her breasts, showing elegant smooth collar bones draped in an adorable, thin chain of gold from which hung a pendant. Just the suggestion of curved hips, more than the suggestion of an extremely pert but small-ish chest, perfectly in proportion with her athletic frame and not a hint of protrusion from her midriff, giving away the flattest of stomachs.
"Hi, Joe! I didn't know you'd be here!"
My eyes snapped up to the creamy-pale, perfect face. The doe eyes. That alluring mouth forming a genuine, warm smile you could almost bask in like the sun. Her big brown ringlets tumbled freely over her bare, perfectly smooth shoulders and gold pendant earrings glinted through them.
"I'm sorry, I don't - uh - I don't believe we've..." I began, clumsily thrusting out my hand.
I was transfixed by this angelic face.
"It's me! Alex..."
I must have stilled looked shocked.
"...andra... Alexandra! Matt's sister!"
She giggled. Not a girlish, silly giggle but a warm, slightly deep, subtle laugh that rippled beautifully.
"Jesus fu-" I caught myself "I mean Jesus... Christ!"
It was with a jolt of realisation that I understood that the goddess standing before me, this perfect creature, was the groom's older sister. Only older by about two years but we had never really been friends in the past. I hadn't liked girls with curly brown hair and glasses and teeth that looked too big for her mouth and a flat chest and boy-clothes back then. I didn't like it now but what I remembered Alexandra as, and what was now standing before me, were not the same animal. Not from the same planet. Not the same universe.
I fumbled again for words. "Oh! But... glasses... I."
"Contacts." She smiled.
"I see but... wow. Hi, hello." I felt exponentially more stupid by the second. The warm but fabulously opulent surroundings blurred and the other guests in the room slipped away from my mind as I looked at her. She didn't look like she had dressed up for the occasion. She looked like she belonged here. Looked like she was some kind of unimaginably rich, indescribably beautiful heiress. I was paying so little attention to anything else that I had to swallow down the creeping feeling that we were alone. If we had been I am not sure I would have been able to talk at all.
I cleared my throat a little and tried again. "I'm so sorry, Alex, I just didn't recognise you. It must be... what?"
"Seven years?"
"About that, yeah. Jesus, you've changed! You look-" I was never a natural compliment giver, I didn't want it to sound insincere or generic. As emphatically as I could I concluded, "incredible!" Shit, that was kind of generic. "I mean really beautiful. I mean I always thought you were pretty!" I laughed nervously. "I mean who doesn't fancy their friend's big sister?" I lied with a smile.
"Oh come off it Joe. You didn't at all." That laugh again. "But thank you, I hope I'm not looking as plain as I did back then." She accepted the compliment gracefully and with a little nod of her head.
Both taking a drink from a nearby waiter's tray she asked what I'd been doing the last few years. Trying desperately not to bore her I stumbled through the details, always self conscious that I wasn't worthy of talking to such an angel.
To my surprise she seemed genuinely interested and her laughs, nods and glittering smiles eventually put me at my ease. Soon I'd regained my composure and we were in full flow for what seemed like hours as the party buzzed on around us. I made sure to ask a lot about her. they're the rules. But we eventually got around to me.
"So what are you doing, Joe? You were also such a little smartarse when we were kids, I bet it's something terribly clever." She smiled wryly.
I rubbed the back of my neck and glanced down, everything about me and my life suddenly not worthy of her in my own head.
"I'm a... well I guess I'm a scientist. Sort of. I work in a lab. I did biology at university and now I work in a lab so... you know. Boring."
"No no," she said in what seemed like a genuine, warm almost whisper, "It's very interesting. I really like a man with a little intelligence..." Her eyes gazed in to mine intensely. I despaired at my lack of confidence as she was so clearly the master of the conversation.
She had told me she was writing for a couple of magazines. Freelance work. Having a lot of fun. Going to a lot of art galleries and working on a novel. She was very Bohemian. Definitely an intellectual but not a scientist. I thought about how boring I must be to her but how good a job she was doing of being polite. Which is why what happened next was such a shock.
"So are you... heh," I tried to sound as casual as possible. "Are you seeing anyone at the moment?"
She paused, silent for a suspenseful couple of seconds and my heart instantly sank, fully expecting the next words out of her mouth to be 'yes, I'm married with twelve kids'. A faint, curious sort of smile came to her lips and she exhaled softly before finally murmuring. "I don't think that matters right now... I'm bored of talking..."
They were the softest lips that mine had ever brushed. Her kiss was like a panacea and deep warmth flooded through all of my muscles. My fingertips just touching the curve of her hip, the smoothness of the satin and the firmness of her flesh underneath adding to the feeling that I was touching something precious, supremely delicate like cut glass.
A small sigh escaped her lips as she parted them ever so slightly but softly closed them again to keep the kiss light and playful. Her small cool hand slipped in to one of mine and she squeezed affectionately as our lips pressed again a little more firmly.
Squeezing her delicate hand back and flattening my other against her hip I became instantly deeply aroused at the feel of her perfect figure beneath the delightfully smooth fabric, feeling myself begin to thicken and lengthen considerably, suddenly.
I dared to open my eyes and could only see her perfectly dark and elegantly long fluttering eyelashes gently over closed eyes. Sinking back in to her kiss I slid my hand warmly over the long curve of her waist and down to the top of her thigh. Every inch of her divine flesh gloriously smooth and giving only slightly, firm and supple when I gave a barely perceptible squeeze, my hand covering what felt like the waistband of lace French knickers.
The hand that was not in mine found my upper arm and caressed my triceps and wound silkily up to my broad shoulder. I was completely lost in her touch and her kiss but I must have let forth a small, deep growl at her caresses for she sighed again more deeply, her small, firm, exquisite chest rising and falling a little more than before.
I wanted to inhale her scent. Breathe her in. And my mouth dragged itself away from her perfect lips and trailed warm kisses, interspersed with cascades of my hot breath, across her delicate cheek and jaw causing her to surrender her bare, soft neck to me with a tilt of her head and a flick of her glorious hair which sent deep brunette locks tumbling with the sound of shifting silk off her neck and shoulder and down her back.
Even with my eyes closed it was as if colours lit up my vision. As I scented her last shower lingering on the hot smooth skin of her neck a vision of her stepping from beneath the streaming water flooded my mind. Her pale and firm, poised, figure treading delicately on the the bathroom floor. Her small feel pooling the water droplets that ran quickly and hotly down her stomach, thighs and calves.
The next scent to hit me as I slipped my hand further around to her lower back to pull her in was the light dusting of talc she must have used to dry her sensitive skin, and then with the faint smell of the small amount of makeup she wore I could suddenly see her sitting before a dressing table, her opulent hair pinned up, applying her make up, her pert, beautiful breasts bare. The delicate pink nipples standing a little proud with the chill of nakedness, punctuating perfect small teardrop breasts, no larger than could fit snugly in my palm, of pearl-white.
Desperate to caress them I pulled her lithe body up against mine and with a surge of arousal fully stiffening my cock against her thigh, I slid my hand from her back, around her hip and up the side of her smooth tummy.