Let me tell you my little story. It’s sort of a love story, well to me it is anyway.

I grew up in a very traditional household. My dad was of the old ways and believed in fate and love and the way to do things shouldn’t be changed.

He had a tailoring business and it flourished. He had taken on a few partners over the years, but only one of them held the same respect for tradition as he did, so they became firm friends.

As part of their friendship, they made a pact. I guess you could say – in fact, you would have to say – I was the main part of that pact.

The pact was this: if each of them would have children of the opposite sex, they would be betrothed. In short, I was destined to marry my husband before I was even born.

Skip a few years, and my father and his friend parted ways on great terms, still vowing to unite again at their children’s wedding (if they had children of the opposite sex).

That always bugged me, what if they didn’t have children of the opposite sex.

Anyway, a few years later, my father's friend told him that his wife had given birth to a healthy baby boy. There was joy, and they met up to secure to the first part of their vow becoming a reality.

Then, I was born six years after that. Dad always said it was second best day of his life (of course, marrying mom was the first). He said he was happy for two reasons. The first is that he was so happy to have a gorgeous bundle of joy, whom he always said that thank God, I looked like my mom. Second, was he would be able to fulfill his vow and betroth me to his friend's son.

All my life, my father never kept it a secret. He would tell me from an early age that I was destined to marry this young man. Every few months, dad would take a picture of me and send it off to his friend and we would get a pic of his son in return.

I watched my betrothed grow from a snotty nosed little kid into a handsome quite ravishing young man. I had fallen in love with him long before I ever met him. Dad would tell me all about him, as I presume he was told all about me.

By the time I had turned seventeen, he was already twenty-three. He had studied to become a structural engineer and worked for a well-off company. Dad said he was already wealthy in his own right and that he would make a perfect husband for me.

I didn’t really care what he did, I had already masturbated over him many times.

Dad said that the day after my eighteenth birthday they will officially announce our engagement, but he would come for a couple of months before so that we could properly get acquatinted.

I waited patiently for the day that my betrothed would arrive, and it was a mere six weeks before my eighteenth birthday that he did.

It was a Sunday morning when a dark, handsome man in his mid-twenties turned up at the door. I was the one to answer the door and we just stood there staring into each other’s eyes. We both recognized each other, and I had to fight my inner instinct to jump into his arms and kiss him.

He smiled at me and I led him indoors by the hand. Dad and mom spoke to him and all I could think about was how handsome he was and imagined how big his cock was. I was salivating and had to leave the room to relieve myself.

When I came back down it was time for supper and mom and dad made me sit next to him. It was a bit awkward, but soon we were talking like we were old friends. There were so many questions I wanted to ask him, but couldn’t in front of my parents.

I finally got him alone when dad went to his office and mom went to do the dishes. He pulled me close and kissed me. It was soft and gentle at first and then it was wild and passionate. I held him close, feeling his strong muscled body. His hands roamed my back and then slid down over my ass. I felt him lift me up by my ass, holding me even closer. I was lost in the passion of kissing him that I didn’t hear mother walk into the room. I heard a light cough, and my betrothed and I seemed to jump apart, this made mother laugh.

“Don’t mind me, it’s good to see you getting along so well. I was going to suggest you two go for a walk so you can get to know each other better, but I see there is no point in that.”

We laughed and decided to go for a walk anyway. Without any company with us, we were free to talk and say what was on our minds.

We both shared many similarities in our upbringing. We were both told about each other and had seen each other grow. We had both fallen in love long before we met each other.

We ended up in the park where we sat on a bench. I say sat on a bench, I straddled his lap facing him, so we could make out. We kissed, not as roughly as at home, but softly and tenderly. He was a great kisser.

He held my head and looked me in the eyes.

“I want to make love to you, I want to hold you in my arms and feel your body on mine.”

I don’t know why, but to me, it sounded so romantic. He told me that he wanted to take me away for the weekend and spend the whole weekend in bed with me. It got me slightly wet thinking about it.

We returned home and he told my parents his intentions to take me to the beach for the weekend. I’m sure they knew what his plans were if so, they didn’t show it.

I waited for the weekend to come and when Friday finally arrived, I packed a small bag and made my way to my betrothed’s car.