Singapore nights have a way of wrapping around you—thick, wet air, the scent of jasmine and spice, and the pulse of the city glowing beneath polished glass and gold.
We started with dinner—somewhere high up and exclusive, where the wine was poured by the time I arrived and his eyes followed me from the moment I stepped out of the elevator. I wore black—silk, backless, slit high. No panties. Just perfume and confidence.
He pulled out my chair. Gentleman. But the way his fingers grazed the back of my neck told me he wouldn’t stay polite for long.
The conversation was slow, indulgent. The city shimmered outside the window like temptation incarnate. I didn’t need dessert. I just leaned in and whispered, “Let’s not waste the view.”
His suite at Marina Bay Sands overlooked everything. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Sheets like clouds. A bottle of champagne already waiting.
He loosened his tie. I let my dress fall to the floor. His eyes widened—first in surprise, then in hunger.
“You came with nothing underneath?” he asked.
I walked over slowly, pushed him back onto the bed, and straddled him—naked, warm, wet.
“I came ready.”
I kissed down his chest, dragged my tongue along the lines of his abs, and unzipped his pants like I’d been thinking about it all day.
And I had.
His cock was already hard. I licked the tip, slow and deliberate, before sliding him into my mouth—deep, wet, worshipful. I made him moan my name with my lips wrapped around him and my nails gripping his thighs.
“Baby,” he gasped, “you’re going to make me—”
I pulled off and smiled.
“Not until I sit on your face first.”
I rode his mouth with the skyline behind us, the lights of the city flickering as I moaned, hips grinding into his tongue. I came with my fingers in his hair and his hands gripping my thighs like prayer.
Then I climbed on top, slid down onto him—slow, soaking, full—and fucked him with the view of Singapore below.
His moans echoed off glass. Mine drowned them out.
After, we lay tangled in sheets, breathless, watching the city blink and breathe.
“You’re dangerous,” he said.
I smiled, reaching for the champagne.
“Singapore brings it out of me.”