Singapore’s Chill Despite the Tropics
Expat Singapore Sex Story – it can feel extremely cold despite the tropical heat. The buildings along Orchard Road are sleek. The MRT is sterile and busy, the faces in the crowd clear. Singapore can be a lonely place for expats, which is why I like to think this Singapore Story happened.
Meeting May
I first saw May in the morning at Raffles Place MRT station, just off the Circle Line. Suddenly, out of the masses of thick pedestrian traffic, this lady appeared before me. I’ll never forget the dark line running up the back of her nylon-covered legs, like two thin racing stripes over her smooth calves. Her heels seemed too big for her, clunking around behind her. Somehow, those lumbering heels made her incredibly attractive.
A Brilliant Distraction
She walked toward me, and we both exited into the high-rise skies of the Singapore CBD. I could see her better in the tropical morning light. A dark skirt dangled from her wire-framed hips. The skirt seemed like silk, with sheer pantyhose underneath. Her hair was dyed light chestnut and cut short, just above her shoulders. It was perfectly layered and enticing. I walked behind her, catching a glimpse of her doll-like face. Her eyes dominated her face, brilliant brown globes that made every other feature seem small. Our eyes met briefly before parting, as is polite in Singapore.
A Fleeting Encounter
Her brilliance dazzled me like sunlight after leaving a dim building. Then she was gone, lost in the crowd. There wasn’t any specific reason she stood out to me from the countless people I passed each morning, other than her beauty. I often saw women like her, and they were forgotten as quickly as a stunning sunset or painting. The moment I entered my office lobby, I forgot her. We were amidst a serious accounting update at the office, with me in charge. It was stressful, especially since I should have been in Tokyo with my family. Instead, I was stuck in this sweaty cooker called Singapore.
Work Pressures
I won’t go into details about my job, except to say it involved IT, and we were interested in the takeover of Gigablast. My company had suddenly terminated its VP of the Singapore division after a series of financial downturns. Since I was set to start a month-long transition in Tokyo before fully taking over the Japanese division, and the current VP was content there, I was sent to Singapore to fix the issue. One week had turned into two months, and it still didn’t seem like they were ready to send me to my intended destination.
Morning Call
I got to my corner office on the fifty-ninth floor and called my wife, a custom we’d established since my arrival in Singapore. She talked about the potential apartments she’d seen. We still hadn’t found a place, something she’d probably need to do on her own since I was being held prisoner in Singapore by my company’s Asian CEO.
“Any word on Tokyo?” she asked, the same question she asked every morning, with the same hopeful tone.
Lingering in Singapore
She shouldn’t have to do this alone. We agreed before leaving the United States that she wouldn’t be alone in a foreign country.
“Not yet. Mr. Chow should be nearby. Maybe if I see him in person, it will be more convincing than an email.”
“Alright. I really love you.”
“I miss you and love you too.”
Wang’s Opulent Lifestyle
Wang came from big money. There was no way he could have afforded the penthouse suite at the top floor of his condo building otherwise. We removed our shoes at the door, placing them on a wicker rack holding around fifty pairs, all loafers or heels.
I don’t know why I changed my mind about attending, but it was May. I needed to get close to her again. It was foolish, but I wanted to feel that desire once more. All day before the supper party, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Yes, I was kicking myself—I was married and she was my colleague’s wife—but I rationalized that it was pure fantasy, visualizing myself with May. Sexless nights had led me to this point.
Dinner Party Attire
I may have come slightly underdressed. Everyone wore formal clothes, while I, the casual American, came in shorts, flip-flops, and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt.
“You should have told me it was formal,” I said.
“Easy up, boss,” Wang replied with a bright red face. “Come in, come in.” He held a wine glass. “May, pour a glass of red for our guest, please,” he called to his wife.
I took off my loafers and lined them up with the other guests’ shoes. May approached and handed me a wine glass. She wore a tight-fitting red party gown that hugged her upper body and flared out from her waist. The short dress made her look scandalous. Wang often spoke of his wife as a progressive prude, so I was surprised to see her wearing something so revealing.
Encounter with May
When she handed me the glass, she wouldn’t look me in the eye and dashed off before I could say anything. I followed Wang around all night but was caught up with the guests, talking business. We ended up on his large balcony with a magnificent view of the city. A few guests enjoyed listening to me talk about America. Most were mid-level executives who’d been to New York and Los Angeles. Singaporeans are very well-informed about American news and culture, like much of the world.
“I’d like to go there one day,” Wang said, swirling his wine glass and pointing it toward the city.
“Why haven’t you?” a short adviser asked. “You’ve got an incredible view here. Surely you can afford a trip to America.”
“Work. I’m too busy working.”
I could detect a slight slur in his otherwise impeccable English.
“Ok, well, we ought to send you on a business trip soon to Silicon Valley. You and the wife. Yes. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? We’d cover all the costs. You play golf, Wang? You can hit up Pebble Beach.”
“That would be entertaining,” May said.
“May, why not be a good wife and get us some more drinks,” Wang said, his voice turning cold. He murmured something sharp in Mandarin.
Seeking Privacy
His annoyance surprised me, but the others acted as if nothing had happened. When she left, he started talking about how he acquired the property. He was getting quite drunk, and I didn’t think he’d notice if I slipped inside.
The apartment was finely furnished, with great-looking art and Asian-themed furniture. I saw May in the kitchen and pretended to be checking out one of the paintings on the wall, but my eyes were glued to her petite figure as she served drinks. I walked over to where she was and startled her.
“You need help?” I asked.
“No…well, yes, I need some decanters from the wine room.” She gave me a short smile and led me past the lounge and down a dimly lit hallway. Her fragrance trailed behind her. She opened a door and turned on the light. Decanters and wine bottles lined three sides of the room.
An Intimate Moment
“What are we drinking?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter, just don’t pick one from the top.”
“Those are the expensive ones?”
“His dad gave them to him as a gift. They are special to him.”
“What do you do for a living? You have a very nice penthouse apartment. One I don’t think I could afford, and I am your husband’s boss.”
“His dad left him some money. He was in the financial industry.”
She looked perfect under the faint light. Two diamond studs shimmered on her white face. She avoided eye contact, looking down as if expecting a reprimand.
“How long have you been married?”
“Three years.”
“The first couple of years are the best. I’ve been married for a long time now.”
“Is your wife in Singapore?” Her eyes fluttered for a moment, then looked away.
“No, she’s waiting for me in Tokyo. Your husband is climbing quickly in the organization. I see him having my position in a few years.”
Damn, she was lovely. Her large eyes twinkled, and her smooth skin looked fresh and youthful. Just being so close to her, smelling her scent, inches from her petite Asian femininity, drove me wild. It dropped my heart to my stomach like a school kid. It raised the hairs on my arms in anticipation. I just wanted to touch her.
Crossing the Line
“He really wants it. He doesn’t want his dad’s money.”
“I like this dress you’re wearing,” I said. “May I touch the material?”
My hand reached out and landed on her right hip without waiting for a response. For a moment, her eyes went wide, and I thought I had made a big mistake. A quiet enveloped the room, threatening to suffocate us both. I could feel it in her eyes—not that she wanted me to touch her, but she wouldn’t stop me either.
“What sort of fabric is it? I’d like something like this for my wife, but I don’t think she has the guts to wear it so short. It’s very provocative.”
There it was, I’d crossed the safe ground and waited to see how this scenario would pan out. She kept her eyes on the glasses of wine before us, her head slightly down as if I weren’t talking. I took this as a green light, whether it was right or wrong. Gradually, I ran my fingers down the velvety dress, to the trim over her knees. A sense of sexual power coursed through me. A masculine feeling of control over this quiet but gorgeous Chinese housewife.
Sensual Revelation
“Your stockings are gorgeous. Are they full stockings or held up by garters? I find women in garters extremely sexy.”
Her mouth opened slightly, but she closed it and licked her lips. “Full pantyhose,” she said, still not raising her eyes.
I took this as a green light. Surely, if I had overstepped, she would have asked me to stop. I pushed my hand forward, and my fingertips brushed against her knees, feeling the nylon fabric.
Arousing Conversation
“Stockings are so sexy. I’ve never understood why American women don’t wear them more often.”
She didn’t move or respond. I thought, Jesus, a man who isn’t your husband has his hand up your skirt, and you haven’t told him to stop? I brushed her thigh gently. The pantyhose created a static buzz under my fingertips. I touched her knees and gave them a delicate squeeze.
“Do you have a degree?” I asked as my hand crawled upwards, gradually reaching her thigh.
Expat Singapore Sex Story
“Yes,” she answered softly.
“Is that where you met Wang?” I asked, looking down and noticing my hand up her skirt. My hard-on began to show in my trousers.
“Yes,” she replied as my hand went behind her right thigh. Her leg was tight, a stark contrast to my wife’s soft body. I could almost wrap my hand completely around her thigh, that’s how petite she was.
“What did you major in?” I asked, wondering if this was really happening.
“Business,” she answered.
I felt the backs of her thighs, which were delicate, warm, and sensual. Her muscles spasmed with each touch. I considered moving between her legs but instead crossed over to touch her butt cheek. Her cheeks were small, tight, and taut with muscle. The pantyhose material was thicker here. I worked my hand to the top of her pantyhose and began to push downward so that my hand touched her upper buttocks. The feeling was wonderful, and my cock throbbed in my pants.
A Dilemma
I must stop, I told myself. I’m married, and she’s married, but here was this beautiful young Chinese woman standing before me, not challenging a thing. She acted as if we were having a normal conversation, with my hand a million miles up her skirt. Her calm acceptance made me think I could fuck her right there in the wine room. It had been so long since I’d had intercourse with my wife. I missed the touch of a woman, but this secret intimacy was much more addictive than simple desire.
I moved my hands back to her butt cheeks outside the pantyhose and gave them a slow squeeze. This startled her, and she pulled my hand away, moving so we were facing each other.
“I’m married,” she said, eyes downcast.
Persistent Desire
“What type of underwear are you wearing?” I asked, ignoring her comment.
“We have to leave. My husband will wonder what’s taking so long.”
“Your husband is having drinks with his client. He won’t come down here looking for you. I want to see your underwear. Will you show me?”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes were downcast, looking at the container of wine she grasped. I was just a phantom to her. She wouldn’t acknowledge me. If she remained perfectly still, I would go away. I stepped closer and grabbed the base of her skirt. I lifted it. She didn’t move. Not a word from her mouth. Not a look from her eyes. The skirt rose higher over her gleaming thighs. The pantyhose turned darker the further her skirt rose, revealing a little red thong.
An Intense Moment
“They are red, such a delicate G-string,” I said.
“You have such a hot little ass.” I pulled away, pulling her skirt down.
“Let me help you with those glasses.” I took them from her and left the room.
I thought she would follow, but she stayed behind. For a few minutes, I lived in fear, wondering what might happen next. Singapore has strict laws, and I would be in trouble if she told anyone. Yet, after a few terrified minutes, she returned, as cheerful as ever. After serving drinks, she stood beside Wang, wrapping an arm through his. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her legs and feet, but she wouldn’t return my gaze.
The Dinner Party
It wasn’t really a dinner party but more starters and wine. There was plenty of sushi and tapas. Wang stayed close to his wife, which I didn’t mind, since May clung to him. I found it satisfying to know that minutes ago, my hand had been up his wife’s skirt.
“So, May tells me she went to college with you,” I asked Wang.
“Yes, we met there,” he said, gesturing proudly to his wife. May locked eyes with him and grinned.
“You both majored in Business?”
“Yes. National University. I dated one of her friends, and that’s how we met. She stole me from her.”
“That’s not what happened,” May said. “They’d been separated for some time.”
“She majored in Business as well? Why isn’t she in our group, Wang?” I inquired.
“May work? She doesn’t have it in her. She just spends my money. That’s her job. The job of all wives, wouldn’t you say?”
Subtle Defiance
“Is it true that you don’t want to work?” I asked her. It was the first time I could look or speak to her since lifting her skirt.
“No,” she answered, the first time she had looked at me since my hand had been up her skirt. For the first time, I could see that she was unhappy with her husband and almost see a plea in her eyes.
“See,” Wang said loudly, clapping his hands, “men are for business, women are for shopping. That’s how the world goes round. May, please go down and get some brandy for my friends.”
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