Sailing With Destiny

Corsica

Name: Mitchell Mason Clarke
Date of Demise: Today
Time of Demise: Pending
Cause of Demise: Blue balls

I awoke the next morning with one motive in mind - to get Mitchell so sexually frustrated that he'd want to bust a nut in public without a care about social etiquette. Okay, maybe the last statement was exaggerated a little.

I was so mad and upset at Mitchell's stupid game or lesson or whatever he wanted to call it that I woke up angry. The previous night, I wanted to sleep in one of the other three cabins of the yacht but after I yelled into a pillow, I was so exhausted that I cleaned myself up, put on Mitchell's lousy t-shirt, and passed out before he was back from the bathroom. 

I vaguely recalled Mitchell getting into bed and he said something in my ear but I was too exhausted to comprehend. He spooned me from behind and I wanted to push him off the bed but my body was way too tired to even poke him. 

Mitchell, typically awoke before me the next morning and for once I was happy that I didn't wake up to his stupid, handsome face. It was pretty early because we had a long day ahead of us, Mitchell and I planned to visit The Tower of Pisa and the cathedral before we left for Corsica.

After my morning routine and a quick shower, I decided to start 'Operation: Torture Bitchell'. To take advantage of the beautiful, sunny Tuscan morning, I put on a bikini, grabbed my sunglasses and sunscreen before I headed out to one of the three private docks. But first, I decided to make a little pitstop. 

It was a little after eight AM so I figured Mitchell was in the gym – like the psychopath he was, he worked out on vacation too. The bikini I wore was new and Mitchell had never seen it, heck Mitchell had barely ever seen me in a bikini and I was going to use that to my advantage. 

As suspected, Mitchell was in the gym and it annoyed me how hot he looked despite being covered in perspiration. He had AirPods in his ears so he didn't hear my footsteps as I stood at the doorway and took a moment to admire my man. He wore a black tank with matching black training shorts and worked out on the bench press. I admired the way his muscles flexed and the veins that protruded on his strong arms as he lifted the barbell.

His heavy breathing and the way his features twisted as he lifted and dropped the weight made me lean against the door and shamelessly check him out. I might as well have drooled at the sight in front of me, his chest glistened in sweat and veins protruded in his neck as he breathed in and exhaled.

Snap out of it, Mila! He's hot but I'm hotter and it's time he realizes that.

I waited for him to put the barbell down before I strolled into the room and stood in front of him. I stood at his legs and checked him out from up-close. Mitchell's long fingers were around the steel bar of the weight but before he could lift it, his eyes caught sight of me and he immediately came to a halt.

He let go of the bar and slowly propped his weight on his elbows as he sat up. Amused, I watched as his eyes drank in my appearance from my legs upward. I innocently smiled and flirtatiously finger waved at him.

He swallowed and removed one of the pods from his ears. "Good morning, Gorgeous," he drawled as his eyes ran over my body again.

"Buenos dias, Guapo," I smiled.

"You're," he briefly paused, glanced at my legs, gulped, and continued, "Um, up early."

"Yeah, we have a long day ahead," I replied. "And you know early bird catches the worm and all that."

"Although, I was a tiny bit disappointed when my eyes opened," I cooed and Mitchell looked at me curiously.

"May I?" I gestured to his lap.