Sarah sat cosily on her couch, wearing her softest robe, laptop on her lap. She looked at the rain-splattered window as she hit 'book' on her flight:

Departing Flight:
11:45 AM London Gatwick Airport (LGW)
Travel time: 2 hr 55 min
3:40 PM Málaga-Costa del Sol Airport (AGP)

Returning Flight:
1:05 PM Málaga-Costa del Sol Airport (AGP)
Travel time: 2 hr 55 min
3:00 PM London Gatwick Airport (LGW)

She had been looking forward to this trip all year long. Not only did she need a break from work, which had been all-consuming, but she also wanted to explore the many art museums that Malaga was known for. More importantly though, she was going to meet up with her best friend, Joanna. The two had been inseparable in college, but after Joanna took an art curator job in Berlin, they barely saw each other more than once per year. These summer trips were the times they caught up, ate good food, and recharged.

Joanna had recently gotten engaged, and since she was adamant she did not want a batchelorette party, Sarah had planned this as a fun girls-only weekend. Sarah felt she needed something light; the constant app dating was leaving her exhausted. It wasn’t that she wasn’t attractive. At 160cm, she was shorter than average for London. But she had a slim figure, toned from years doing yoga, and beautiful brown eyes. The problem was that she found most men she went on dates with to be either too passive and boring or pushy and showy. But she was pushing all that aside. For now, she was just excited to see her best friend, spend some time tanning her skin, which hadn't seen the sun in months, and refresh her mind with some of the Picasso art she had never seen before.

She had majored in art history like Joanna but had taken a less traditional career route – for an art major. Sharp as a tack, she got recruited into a job consulting which satisfied her nonstop mind but left her with a deep sense of longing to explore the things she truly loved. With work as busy as ever and her romantic relationships lacking, she had decided she needed to take more chances. More importantly, she wanted to figure out a way to get back to a career in art. Just before the trip, she dyed her hair dark red. Deep down she hoped the untraditional hair colour would force her hand at her job. It wasn’t unheard of for museum directors to have deep red hair, but it wasn’t necessarily the colour of choice for partners at her firm. She was walking out of the hair salon when she saw the text.

Joanna BFF:

“Sarah, I’m so so sorry, John’s grandmother just passed, and we are taking the next flight to Dublin. There is no way I can make Malaga happen this weekend, but I want to see you. Any chance you can come up? I will only be able to see you for a couple of hours, but happy to pay for your flight. And I promise I’ll make it up to you. What do you think?"

“Oh no! Poor John,” she heard herself mutter out loud.

She replied right away:

“Joanna, I’m so so sorry about John’s nanny passing. Send him big hugs from me. No worries about the trip, I have tonnes of work anyways. I should stay and finish, but let me think about it.”

Then she opened the weather app. It was nothing but rain and clouds in Dublin this week. For sure there would be no museums she had not already visited, and she would be walking around the city by herself while only getting to see her friend once or twice.

As she walked home, she passed by a wine shop with a sign offering ‘Best of Rioja'. ‘A sign,' she thought. Then she remembered she didn’t believe in magic… most of the time.

She decided to call her other friend Marna.

“Why don’t you just go by yourself? I was just there last year with Ron, and it was lovely. It is super safe, and the beaches are warm, and you will love the museums.”

She said she would sleep on it.

As she was waiting in line at the security check, she felt someone’s eyes behind her. She turned to look, and piercing blue eyes caught hers; she smiled but shyly looked away.

‘Hmmm, he's handsome,’ she thought.

"Laptops off the bags, please.”

"Oh, right.” She removed hers, still hoping to get some work done while on vacation, and continued through the line.

She proceeded through the airport and on to her gate.

“We will now begin our boarding process for British Airways flight 274 to Malaga. We will begin boarding families with young children, group one and preferred members.”

“You either gotta be super special or super rich to board first; guess the rest of us gotta wait in line.”

She turned to see the man she had noticed at the security line standing next to her. “I got no rush to sit cramped for any extra time. Honestly, if I were loaded, I would pay to be the last one to board, not the first,” she immediately quipped.

“I’m Clark," he said, hand extended out.

"Hi, I’m Sarah.” She firmly shook it.

“Are you flying back home or for vacation?”

“Huh, home? That would be something. Nah, just taking some time off of work. What about you?”

“I’m flying back home. A year ago, I quit my job here and got a gig at a bar in Marbella. Wouldn’t trade it for the world. I was just back this time to visit family.”

"Group 4 boarding."

“That’s my group,” she said.

"Oh, same here, the peasants.”

“Or I guess us lucky wealthy ones that get to board last.” She smiled and went forward.

She walked first and slowly made her way through the plane, noticing the many eyes that stopped to take a second look at her. She was used to this. She got to her seat and sat down. Noticed the empty seat next to her that would have been Joanna's.

"Oh, lucky me, I’m in 17a; it looks like I’m in the same row as Countess Sarah,” said Clark as he sat on the aisle seat next to her.

She feigned a smile.

As the stewardess passed, Clark spoke up, "Can I grab a gin and tonic? Not trying to have a dry flight! By the way, those red heels look beautiful on you."

She laughed out loud this time, then put headphones on and opened her laptop. “I gotta finish a tonne of work, but great meeting you,” she said politely.

After that distraction she was able to concentrate on her work. It's weird how having to pretend you are focused will lead to being the most productive you've ever been.

For his part, Clark seemed to enjoy his flight, drinking and flirting fruitlessly with the beautiful stewardess.

After she landed, she took a taxi to the city centre, dropped her bags at her hotel, and then walked around. The city was bustling, with people sitting in front of bars eating and drinking, a couple of street performers, and the beating sun making everything hot.

She went into a bathing suit store and tried a couple of different looks. A white one-piece that fit her figure beautifully, but she felt it made her breasts look small. A black bikini that fit her bottom perfectly, but she noticed that her areola was basically showing. Then she tried on a brown one, which she realised was a thong bottom. She checked herself out in the mirror, admiring how good her ass looked. She did have a beautiful ass, she thought to herself, but the bathing suit thong was not her style.

Then there was a red bikini that fit her perfectly. The colour looked beautiful on her skin; it accentuated her top without being overly showy, and it hugged her ass cheeks without being too small.

Having picked a new bathing suit, she went back to her hotel.

"Picasso is the popular one, but you should check out the collection at the museum of Russian art. It’s a little unexpected, I know, but it’s quite unique," the hotel concierge had told her when she asked for suggestions.

"Thanks, I'll check that out tomorrow. For today, do you know what beach I should go to?"

"Oh, from here," he said, pulling out a map. "Walk 15 minutes in that direction, and you'll be in Malagueta; it will be crowded, but the water is calm and cool."

The beach was hot and crowded. The red bathing suit made her feel glamorous, and she enjoyed the attention. There was a group of men in their early twenties playing volleyball. She watched them for a couple of minutes. Chiselled arms and forearms striking the ball. Strong quads and calves, jumping to spike the ball. She looked around and noticed the topless women and bodies glistening in the sun. She felt the heat, inside and out. She was sweating, and her heart thanked her for the liveliness. She dipped herself in the water, then dried herself and walked back to her hotel.

The next day, after a lazy morning, she headed to the museum the hotel concierge had suggested.

As she was walking around the museum, she noticed someone. It was hard not to notice him, because he had been standing in the same place for the last 20 minutes. He’d been staring at the same painting for at least the entire time she was in that gallery, and then later, when she came back to look at a different painting she wanted to see again.

As she got close to see the painting, he stepped aside to let her see it, but his eyes stayed fixated on the art. He was tall, with dark hair and a deep, smart look. She was instantly attracted to him, but he seemed focused only on the art. She noted the title, 'Cubist Nude', but not wanting to intrude, she looked at the painting next to him and moved on.

She kept walking slowly through the galleries, then noticed that he walked past the other galleries and went outside.

“Perhaps in another lifetime,” she thought.

The outside of the museum had a giant courtyard with a big tree in the middle and long cement benches all around.

She walked outside to see him sitting on one of the benches with a notebook in his hand. She couldn’t quite tell if he was sketching or writing. She deliberately sat at the other end of the bench.

He wanted to recharge. He did what he loved to do best, visit art museums and get lost in the paintings.

She was just his type, short and slim, with a long face and long dyed red hair. He could tell it was not natural, which he took to mean a sense of adventure.

He had noticed her looking at him while he had been staring at the painting. It was by far his favourite painting at the museum, and he would often come to just stare at it and forget the rest of the world.

When he was done inside, he liked to sit outside the museum and write his thoughts on paper. This was his way to flush his mind and go back refreshed to the rest of his chores. As he was sitting there writing, he noticed the woman from the museum sit near him. It was quite far, and it wasn’t awkward. But she deliberately chose to share the same bench. He wondered if she wanted him to speak to her.

He kept trying to write but realised his mind kept thinking about the woman sitting at the other side of the bench. She was wearing jeans, a tight-fitting black T-shirt that sat right above her belly button, and black Converse.

He had to say something.

“Did you have a favourite painting?” He could tell she spoke English.

She immediately put her phone down and looked up.

"Oh, that’s a tough question. I loved the intensity of the colours in…” She thought for a second. "There was a bright self-portrait of a couple... what was it?”

"Self-portrait with his wife Capitoline? I think the artist is called Viktor Palmov.”

"Yes! That one. I loved the colours, but I can’t say definitively it was my favourite. It was my first time in this museum, so I’d have to come back to pick a favourite. What about you?"

“Which one do you think was my favourite?" he asked, smiling.

She smiled. "Yeah, you were staring at the ‘Cubist Nude’ pretty hard."

"It was pretty obvious, huh."

"What do you like so much about it?”

He gave a small laugh. “I can’t explain it without sounding pretentious."

"That has never stopped a man in an art museum."

He laughed. "For me, yes, it’s the visual poetry of a painting. But this one in particular is not explicit at all, yet one feels he was trying to express incredible beauty. It feels intensely physical. Here he was, Baranoff-Rossiné, the artist, at the prime of his life, making this beautiful art and taking this new 'Cubist' genre in new directions, while Europe is also heading to a great war."

She kept staring at him, slightly hypnotised. He continued, ”Some people call him the Ukrainian Picasso. Have you been to the Picasso museum yet?”

“No. That one is on my list to visit tomorrow.”

“It’s not the best Picasso museum, in my opinion, but this being his birthplace and all, it does have a pretty unique collection.”

“I was an art history major, and that's one I’ve wanted to check out for a while,” she replied.

“Oh so you know way more than me about all of this.”

“Haha, I haven’t worked in art in a while, but I’m looking to get back into it. Do you like Picasso?”

"Yeah, I mean, he changed the history of art, so it’s hard not to at least respect him. Picasso, the man, as many flaws as the rest of us.”

“Yeah, have you heard of the summer of '37 when Picasso and some artist friends spent a summer basically making art and love in the coast of France?"

"That must have been right after he finished Guernica?"

"Yeah! Basically, he and Dora Maar stayed on the French Riviera with Paul and Nusch Éluard. They spent the summer swimming, drinking, having affairs, and making art."

"Oh yes! Is that when Man Ray also joined, taking pictures?"

"Yes, that's the one!"

She hadn’t had a stimulating art-related conversation like this in ages.

"Art and love."

She felt her heart race a bit. Then she realised she was talking about the two things she desired that had not crossed her path in such a long time. Art and love.

“Where are you coming from, by the way?” he asked.

She explained her trip and her friend's.

"Oh, sorry to hear that, but glad that we met. We wouldn’t have met if she had been here with you. By the way, I’m sweating and I can’t keep writing in this heat. Want to grab a drink? I know a good bar in the center."

She hesitated.

“Don’t worry, it’s very touristy."

She shrugged. "Sure, why not. I wanted to just walk around the beach, but I’d love to see some local spots.“

“I wouldn’t call this local, but it’s good.”

She couldn’t tell why, but she felt safe and at ease in his presence.

They waited for the bus, still chatting about the museum and art in Malaga in general. When they sat down in the bus, he calmly said, “By the way, I have a wife. We have an open relationship, and she’s away for the weekend at a wedding, but I wanted to let you know, now that we are heading to a second place. Not that I expect anything to happen, but just being crystal.”

That shocked her. She had heard of open relationships but hadn’t actually met someone in one. “There is no way that can actually work, right?” she blurted out without thinking.

He smiled. “It works great for us. But it is a lot of work.”

The thought of being with someone in a relationship had always repulsed her. But his honestly and calmness about the whole situation cut past that repulsion and gave her a sense of security she didn’t really feel in any other area of her life. She felt her pulse quicken a bit, and the blood rushed through her body. Without really thinking about about it she realized that the thought of being with a married man actually turned her on.

"Yeah, we are just having a drink,” she said, trying to convince herself.

She was now more sexually attracted to him but felt a guilt about the whole situation she couldn’t ignore. As they rode the bus, it got a bit quiet.

"Actually, I’m just supposed to be visiting art museums and having fun."

“Oh sure,” he said. "Look, if you want, I can get off at the next stop, no worries.”

“I think that would be best."

He nodded, ripped a page from his notebook, wrote something on it and handed her a piece of paper.

"Have a great time in Malaga!" he said as he got up to step off the bus. The sound was muffled by the bus speaker's 'Proxima parada, estacion de tren.'

As she watched him walk away from the bus window, she felt a slight sense of relief but mostly a deep disappointment.

“Ugh, why is it always so complicated?" she thought.

She didn’t want to bother Joanna, so she called Marna, though she knew where she would stand on the issue.

“If you want to, just hang out with him. If it is consensual, you’re not hurting anyone. Plus if his wife’s at a wedding, I’m sure she’s doing plenty of her own chicka chicka wam wam, if you know what I mean.”

Sarah laughed. "Well, it's too late for that; I just watched him get off the bus.”

“Eh, no worries, plenty of non-married fish in the sea.”

She remembered the paper he had given her and took it out of her pocket where she had instinctively placed it after the bus had jerked forward. It was a phone number. Her heart really shot up this time. She figured she would just go back to the hotel, take a shower and go grab dinner.

Given that she was supposed to vacation with her best friend, they had decided to splurge on a hotel, and she had the top floor with a beautiful view overlooking the old castle on one side and the port on the other. It was a standard two-queen-bed room, but the bathroom had the works, a bathtub with two massaging showerheads. For some reason, hotel rooms always made her so horny.

She had a long, relaxing shower. Then, she let one showerhead fill the tub while grabbing another one. Then she began to use it to massage her body. She decided she would let go. Right now, and tonight. She used the showerhead too, now feeling more turned on than ever. She didn't feel like she could quite make herself cum, but she loved the feel of the warm water on her body.

After she got out of the shower, she saw the paper sitting on her hotel room desk. Just to see, she saved his number on her phone. She checked WhatsApp and saw his picture come up. It was him without a shirt with a beach in the background.

'Fuck it, what’s a dinner?’ she thought.

"Hey, it’s Sarah from the museum. I actually have reservations at Kaleja tonight. Figure better to chat about art than have dinner by myself. Want to meet me there at 8?” she texted.

"Sure, I’d love to. See you there,” was the near-immediate reply.

She was wearing a short red and white flower dress with heels. It was tight up top but then had a little skirt that flowed slightly up.

Dinner was casual and fun, but the tension was palpable.

As they cheered the first wine pairing, they locked eyes until the waitress interrupted.

"Where are you two joining us from? You make a gorgeous couple,” the waitress said as she poured the second glass.

"Oh, we’re just friends,” he said.

She smiled but felt her heart pang a bit.

This feeling soon evaporated as they got to talking about art, their love lives, and even their careers.

After having had the experience nearly get away from her, she was now sure she wanted him.

At the end of the meal he asked, “Can I walk you back to your room?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said.

They took a leisurely stroll through the city. They walked by the old Roman theatre, and he showed her the vats where they used to make fish paste in Roman times.

"My feet are killing me," she said as she paused to take off her heels. She carried them in one hand as they continued toward her hotel.

When they got to her hotel, they paused in front of the revolving doors.

Then he leaned in and kissed her. "Finally," she thought.

It had only been one day, but this felt like they had been playing this game for a year.

They held a deep, passionate kiss, and then she asked, “Wanna come up to my room?”

“I’d love that,” he replied.

In the elevator they kissed again, their tongues exploring each other's mouths. Their hands were barely keeping from taking each other's clothes off. She felt his strong core as he placed one hand behind her head and the other on her hip.

“Floor two.”

The elevator stopped and an elderly couple walked in on their way to the rooftop bar. They smiled. She fixed her hair, and he shifted his pants, which were now bulging.

When they got to her floor, they practically jumped out of the elevator. He followed her brisk walk to her room door.

As she struggled to find the room key in her purse, he started kissing her neck.

The door swung open, and she threw her heels and purse on the floor.

He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close. He kissed her again; this time his hands went below her dress. He lifted her dress skirt and felt her ass, grabbing one cheek with each hand. He could feel her thong with his arms.

His lips slowly went from her mouth down to her neck and shoulder. With his teeth he slowly pulled the strap from her dress until it fell by her arm. Then he went to the other side, and with his mouth he slid the other strap on the dress, letting the top fall down and revealing a white lace bra. With his hands that were still exploring her backside, he slid the dress completely off, revealing a matching white thong.

"I've heard that when a woman wears matching lingerie, she’s the one who decided from the beginning she was going to have sex," he said.

She laughed.

“Put the heels on,” he said.

She obliged. While still wearing her lingerie, she put the heels on and walked over to him. He grabbed her hips and kissed her again. With one hand, he unclipped the bra and let it fall to the floor.

He put his head down and went down to suck on her left nipple while grabbing the right breast with his hand. She let out another moan. He sucked on her nipples, switching between them and caressing her chest.

She started unbuckling his belt and taking his pants off.

His hard cock sprang up out of his boxers when the pants slid down. She grabbed it awkwardly with her hands.

"Not yet," he said. "I'm still enjoying myself exploring your body.”

Then he picked her up and put her on the bed.

She leaned back and let out a slight moan as he kept kissing her. Kissing her down to her stomach and down to her hips.

She smiled and placed both hands on his hair. He kept going down and pulled her thong all the way down with his teeth. Removing it from one foot, he left it hanging from the other.

He began kissing her left foot and slowly made his way up to her thigh. Then he moved his mouth back down her thigh and down to her ankle. He switched to her right ankle and slowly kissed up to her right thigh. He reached his hands up to grab her breasts while keeping his mouth around her pussy. Then he spread open his tongue and placed it all over her pussy. He felt the small, pearl-sized clit but licked all around it without touching it, teasing all around her clit softly with his tongue. Then he widened his tongue and began to lick her gently.

He slid one finger inside and slowly licked all around before going back and focusing exclusively on the clit.

She gave a sigh of pleasure.

"Yes, just like that. Stay on my clit, please,” she asked.

It wasn’t long before she was gripping the bed with both hands, moaning with excitement.

“I’m so close. Keep going.”

He continued hooking his finger, finding the right spot. With his tongue he began to slowly trace the alphabet. A… B… C… D… E… F… G… H… I… J...

"Hmmm, ooohhh, my god!!" she exclaimed as she arched her back and squeezed the bedsheets. He kept his mouth, riding her orgasm on his tongue.

Then he pulled up to look at her.

"Again," she demanded. She was now primed and knew if he kept going she would be able to come multiple times.

He smiled and went back to his task.

The second orgasm came around the letter H.

“Keep going!” she demanded.

"My pleasure," he replied, and with the look of a ravenous man, she saw him dip his head down again while his hands moved between her breasts, her ass, and inside of her.

Continuing with the alphabet, he tried to see how quickly she could come. The letter G this time.

"I want you inside," she said.

"Not yet," he replied.

He came up and kneeled right next to her face. She grabbed his cock and put it in her mouth. He felt her put his cock deep inside, and he slowly thrust forward, then pulled it out. He felt her pulling him back in, so with his left hand he grabbed and gently pulled her hair. She looked up at him in approval. He pulled the hair slightly more and began to pull her head back and forth while gently fucking her mouth. Then he leaned forward slightly and put his hand on her cunt. He slid his index finger inside her. He could see her eyes roll to the back of her head.

She nodded and mumbled something which he couldn't make out. He put in his middle finger and started hooking his fingers back, looking for the right spot.

With his hard cock in her mouth and two fingers inside her, she felt herself coming again.

There was drool all over his cock.

Play with my balls," he ordered.

He removed his hands from her.

She moved her body to her left so that her face was right under his balls and began to lick his balls while stroking his cock with her hand.

He leaned forward and got on all fours. She took the cock again in her mouth. The pulling back of the cock felt awkward, but he loved the position. She began licking up and down his shaft while playing with his balls. He kissed her legs and let himself go in pleasure.

Then he stood up and kneeled in front of her feet. He grabbed her feet and lifted both legs up, then put his cock right between her labia. She grabbed it with her hand and guided it in. He raised her feet some more and thrust deep inside her. It was too much, and she had to put her feet down on the floor. He grabbed her hips and began to thrust slowly in and out of her, feeling every inch of his hard cock being hugged by her engorged cunt. Then he moved his hands and put one on each breast, gently playing with them while he slid in and out. Then he began to speed up, slowly. He looked her in the eyes. Then he began to thrust a little faster and faster, her moans encouraging him.

She did not remember ever feeling this full by a cock.

"Oh yes, fuck me," she said.

This encouragement almost brought him to climax, but he held. His force was now making her pull her hands up to the wall. He continued, as she moaned in ecstasy.

"Oh fuck, I'm going to cum," he said, then pulled out before cumming.

"I want to get on top," she said.

He lay down in the bed, and she got on her knees right above him. Then she grabbed his cock and placed it right below her cunt, just edging the tip. Then she slowly made her way down, engulfing his cock.

He looked up at her, sweat-pierced, the smell of sex on their nostrils.

She began to ride him slowly first, then faster and faster. He took his hand and started rubbing her clit while she rode him.

"Yes, yes!" she exclaimed. "Keep going; that's gonna make me cum."

He kept riding her, keeping the movements more subtle now.

He noticed her eyes roll backwards as she let out a gasp and felt her pussy clench him.

"Oh fuck!" He could not hold it any more, and he felt his cum shoot, filling her pussy.

Their bodies twitched in ecstasy.

She slowly kept riding him, making sure to get every last drip. Then she lifted herself off of him, the cum dripping down her thigh.

He grabbed her and kissed her as she lay down on his chest.

"I needed that," she said softly.

"I did not realize, I needed that too," he replied.