The Day Trip [Excerpt]

A sexy holiday in Italy takes an even steamier turn when two lovers meet Luca, a hunky local tour-guide, and take a day trip out to the lemon-scented idyll of the Isle of Capri.

The summer sun was hot and bright the week that Matt and I spent in Italy. Matt’s work in film production often took him to exotic climes, and I would occasionally visit him on a film shoot if he was somewhere exciting and picturesque. So during a gap between filming in Croatia, the two of us met up in Rome and hired a car to drive down to Sorrento.

It was the perfect summer holiday for me; hot sunshine, the glistening azure waters of the Bay of Naples, and a week of sweaty sex with the gorgeous Matt.

In Rome, Matt and I had spent one night in a hotel near the Spanish Steps, where we’d fucked like wild animals until the sun came up. It had been a few months since we’d last been together, and within minutes of seeing him again, I’d felt that ravenous hunger for him that always took my breath away. When he’d torn my clothes off the second the door of our room had clicked shut, I’d already been so wet that his very large endowment had slipped inside me with ease.

The following day, I spent the entire drive down the Amalfi Coast recalling the night before; Matt’s tongue skimming over my knees, licking up the insides of my thighs before dipping into my bubbling, hot pussy. I had been like Vesuvius, molten fluid seeping from my core while Matt’s mouth drank from my font like a desert nomad at an oasis. I couldn’t wait to get to Sorrento and fuck him again.

Our hotel was situated just outside of the main town, right by the shoreline in a quiet, secluded cove. Having been shown to our room, informed about the breakfast buffet in the morning and told that the hotel restaurant would be open for dinner between 7 and 9.30pm, Matt tipped the porter, put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, and hefted me up over his broad shoulders to carry me to the King-sized bed. We didn’t make it to dinner that night.

​In the morning, I was awoken by the sound of the shower running in the bathroom and rose, naked, padding lightly to the bathroom.

I’d always loved watching Matt in the shower; the steam rising around him like a ghostly halo, the rivulets of water running over his heavily muscled body, his strong hands soaping his flesh, and his eyes shut in a blissful, almost meditative state.

There are times even these years later that I find myself absent-mindedly stroking my clit when I’m bathing, following imaginary streams of hot water down Matt’s broad torso, watching hungrily as they curve around the hollow of his belly button before traversing the expanse of his pelvis and trickling into the well-tended thatch of his pubic hair.

I stood watching Matt for a few minutes, enjoying the view of his gorgeous body under the hot water and thinking myself inconspicuous, until I was awoken from my lusty daze by his throaty chuckle.

"So are you planning on joining me, or are you just going to stand there staring all morning?"

Writer, Poet, Audiobook Narrator, Freelancer, Blogger. Living in UK & spending most of my time in my head. Buy me a coffee here:

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