I moan loudly, arching backwards and closing my eyes, as I really feel him take me. His tongue playing in my entrance is the biggest tease! It’s amazing, incredible, the best use of a tongue that I can currently think of.

I want to stay quiet, but I just can’t. “AH!” I cry. Fuck, it’s never felt this good before, has it?

He runs his tongue north once more, and I’m about to explode. My legs start shaking and a few divine moments later, I orgasm, my whole body trembling.

“Logan,” I moan, as I shake it out.

Eventually the pleasurable torment ends, and I sigh loudly, feeling unequivocally seen-to as I slouch back in the chair, my legs sprawled.

“Hands down the sexiest moment of my life,” I hear Logan say. His hands glide up and down my legs, slowly bringing me back down to planet Earth.

“It was OK,” I say sarcastically, before revelling in the sound of Logan’s laughter — he so knows that it was more than OK!

I straighten up in the chair, and close my legs, my breathing still double time. Logan sits back on his heels, a smug smile on his gorgeous face.

“My favourite part was when you blushed,” he kneels up once more, wraps his arms around my back, and bring his face close to mine. I feel him smile against my lips; his lips are still wet…and it’s too much for me. I kiss him fervidly, relishing the taste of myself on his tongue. It’s so sexy, so intimate.

Logan stirred something deep within me when he explored my entrance, and now I’m eager to continue that exploration. Despite how powerful my orgasm was, there’s a certain magnitude of pleasure that can only be tapped into when he’s inside of me, when we’re united like that. And there’s no better time than the present, I think slyly.

Similar thoughts are running through Logan’s head; he stands quickly, unbuttoning his jeans, and letting them fall to the ground. He’s going commando. Again. I stand too, my fingers hastily gripping the hem of his jumper and I pull it forcefully up and over his head. He’s not wearing anything underneath it either and I smile at this, knowing it to mean that, despite appearances, he was not dressed for the day; he fully intended on getting naked once again.

“Are we going to make it out of this hotel room at all this weekend?” I question him playfully.

Logan looks considerate for a moment, as something occurs to him. He shifts the chair so that it faces the window. He sits on it, his legs wide, his erection protruding, and beckons me closer. “If you sit with your back to me, you can look out of the window if you want,” he chuckles.

Oh, Logan! Smiling, I say, “You’re so accommodating.”

I stand between his legs, my back to him, and as I lower my backside down, Logan catches me with his strong hands. He closes his legs slightly, and I straddle him backwards, sitting on his lap. He pulls me closer to him, his arms tighten around my stomach.

“Lean on me,” he whispers.

I do so, leaning back against his broad, taut chest, my head resting on his shoulder. He’s stable and dependable behind me, I like the supported feeling. I gaze up at him, relaxing fully. It’s the calm before the come, I think.

“You’re supposed to be looking out of the window,” he coos, his hand lightly grazing my cheek.

I grin at him and shake my head. He’s the centre of everything, I can’t look anywhere but at him.

Logan bends his neck forward and I bend mine back, bringing our lips together. I reach up and cradle his head in my hands and we kiss slowly, sensually. His hands cup my exposed breasts, squeezing and caressing them beautifully, before one of them grazes over my body, down to my sex.

He wastes no time, eagerly slipping two long fingers inside of me. I practically melt around them, moaning softly into his mouth. This is the exquisite fullness I love feeling, but I don’t want to feel it quite like this. Reaching behind me, I take his penis in my hand and a few moments later, he’s firmly inside of me. His hand finds a new purpose, rubbing my clitoris, as I begin to move on him speedily.

We last a satisfying, pleasure-drenched ten minutes, and I don’t waste one second of it looking out of the window.

2. I’ll Be Your Lover, Too

We do make it out of our hotel room, eventually. For the rest of our morning we explore the hotel, which allows me to overload my phone with photographs of the decor, before we set off in a sleek, silver SUV that Logan has hired for us.

Driving through Nice is amazing, and beyond it along the beautiful coastline, the steady presence of the vast ocean is on our right, its dark water looking deceptively alluring. After an hour of driving, we pull in to a cliff-top car park with magnificent views, and walk along a narrow path which is a little too close to the edge for my liking, until we come across a secluded yet busy beachside cafe-cum-tourist shop.

Enjoying the vibe of the place, Logan and I stay for lunch and just as we’re leaving to take a stroll along the beach, I pull him into the shop, which is filled with many kitschy treasures.

“I just don’t get it,” Logan blurts out as we walk around, hand in hand. “What are you looking for?”

I tear my eyes away from an entire shelf of brilliant if not gaudy seaside snow-globes, and I grin at him with a shrug.

He rolls his eyes playfully, even more confused.

Giving his hand a squeeze, I then explain, “I walk into a shop with an open mind and a willingness to be blown away at any moment by something spectacular that I simply must have.”

“Huh…that actually sounds quite nice,” Logan admits. He makes me laugh by adding, “I can’t do that. I always have in mind what I want or need, I go in, get it, and then I leave. None of this blown away business.”

Coming to stop in front of an umbrella stand being utilised for long, colourful fishing nets, I say to him, “There must be one type of shop that you’re happy to browse in?”

He thinks for a moment, and then smiles at me. “A candy store.”

“Really?” I laugh again. That’s unexpected, although… “Does that explain the gallbladder?” I tease.

“Probably,” he chuckles.

“Excusez-moi, Madame,” someone taps my shoulder.

Spinning around, I find myself face to face with one of the cashiers. I give her a small, inquisitive smile.

She continues, “Je n’ai pas pu m’empêcher de remarquer que vous aviez l’air d’aimer nos épuisettes.” I could not help but notice that you seem to like our nets.

Oh! I throw them a brief glance. “Uh…”

“Elles sont en solde dès aujourd’hui, et il y a un bon endroit à deux minutes en bas de la plage.” They’re on sale today, and there is a good spot just two minutes down the beach.

I give Logan a cheeky grin. In that case, I think giddily, before saying to the cashier, “Nous en prendrons deux, s’il vous plaît.” We’ll have two, please.

* * *

The so-called two minute walk is at least fifteen. I’m about to give up on the venture when Logan spots what we’re looking for: a small collection of pools, which on closer inspection are teeming with marine life.

With my feet securely planted on one of the rocks, I look up at him and say, “Now what?”

Logan laughs at me. “Now you catch something, baby. We’ll have it for dinner.”

I pull a face. “I don’t want to,” I mumble, suddenly wondering how I was so easily seduced into buying these nets.

He pokes me in the stomach with the end of his, still chuckling. “Catch and release, Gemima,” he tells me.

Oh, good, I think, dunking my net into the water, making a grand swooping motion and pulling it up a few seconds later…with something inside of it! I peer at the net, trying to make out what I’ve caught.

I gasp when I realise, “I’ve got crabs!”