When I found out your parents were taking us on a weekend trip to the coast, honestly my first thought was how we’d manage to have sex. I know that’s never what you think about first but you should know by now where my mind always is.
The hotel suite they booked for us all was stunning. A breathtaking view of the ocean and an adorable deck for drinking coffee and watching the sun rise. [And having sex and hoping there’s no one in the pool right close? I know you’d never risk it with your parents right there.] A manageable pull-out couch for us upstairs, and a lovely king-sized bed and everything your parents could ever want downstairs. Obvious problem: no bedroom door. I could hear your parents perfectly clearly down there and I have absolutely no doubt they could hear any of our conversations with ease. So how am I supposed to get you to fuck me like this?
It was on my mind all day. I kept catching myself getting wet in my leggings, hoping you were admiring my yoga ass a little extra today so you wouldn’t be able to resist it later. I made sure to walk up stairs in front of you so you couldn’t not stare. Works every time.