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   Ariana Belle FletcherMatala, Crete, Greece6:42am

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   Ariana Belle Fletcher
Matala, Crete, Greece
6:42am

a month flies before my eyes, and now it's my last morning on this beautiful greek island.

i rise early and enjoy a walk on the beach all to myself.

in eight hours, i'll be on a plane headed back home. a home i haven't seen in nearly eleven months. hell, practically a whole year

i can't explain precisely how, but i feel profoundly changed by my time abroad, especially when i sleep in these caves.

the time i spent with iris and andreas helped opened my eyes to another way of life.

and francesco

a smile comes to my face.

he's been nothing but kind and supportive

he has tediously listened to all of the sexual adventures i've had with iris and andreas.

he's claimed a space in my life, somewhere between a lover and a friend, and every time i think of him, my heart swells inside my chest.

if he's jealous, he hides it well

not to mention the arousing conversations we've been having and the things i want him to do to me.

i don't need to see my phone because last night's spicy conversation is imprinted on my mind.

"i wish i could be there with you now"

"i wish you could be here too, and all of the things we could too"

"the things i'd like to do with you. tell me, ariana. tell me exactly how you'd like it. what things do you want me to do?"

"well... i'd like you to be both rough and sweet. but first, i want you to take control. you'd grab me by the neck and pull me in for a long and deep kiss while squeezing the back of my neck with your firm grip. and that's just the start. then i want you to spin me around, throwing me onto the bed. i want to feel your total weight on top of me. i want you to feel hard as a rock with your burning desire. you'd grind your hips into me from behind, twisting my hair around your hand like a rope and pull back with your strength. ugh, and that's just the beginning"

"go on, tell me everything else. i want to hear it all"

and i tell him more, all that i could ever desire.

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