CLAIRE…
Yep, he is exactly as hot as he looked from afar. Like a younger, darker Bruce Greenwood. Quietly charming, with a hint of wolf. I’m standing in the pool on his end making small talk while I’m replaying my little fantasy from before and, even in the water, I can feel my pussy creaming. I lazily stroke my mound as he teases me about my romance writing. There was a time I would share that I wrote erotica, but inevitably people would get all squirrelly and weird. So now I say I write romance and suffer the slight indignity, but it’s much simpler this way.
Hmmmm, so, Jake. I’m showering, getting ready for our dinner and, of course, I’m horny because I haven’t had cock for 6 months. Dildos are great, but nothing like an actual, real-life cock filling up all my tight spots. Not sure I want to break my fast on this trip, and anyway I already set the tone with Jake. Of course, I know that telling him I’m not available likely just made me more enticing. Not my intention, and nothing I can do about it. I just hate being a tease. And I hate to dine out alone.