It is hot, and everything feels thick with heat and sticky with sweat. The sheet is twisted underneath him and its folds will leave a crisscross of marks on his bare back and buttocks. Tiny grains of fine sand from the endless, white beach outside rub the skin on your knees. Harsh breathing fills the air, harmonizing with the soft swish of the turf.

The smell of sea and sex is intoxicating. You inhale.

His long, toned legs are spread, his hands gripping at damp sheets and at your creamy white shoulder. Tangled, together. You thrust. His eyes close and he tries to hold in the sounds, pressing his lips together.

His wide, blue eyes stare up at you. A bruise is slowly blooming on his right cheekbone.

You smile. You feel much better.