The Manhood Diaries
Tanned, beautiful bodies lounged on teak chaises, splashed in the infinity pool that seemed to pour into the valley below, and clustered around the open bar.
He found her by the deep end, holding court. Emma was a vision in a barely-there white bikini, the triangles of fabric doing a heroic job of containing her full, perfect breasts. The bottom was a scrap of lace that disappeared into the cleft of her ass. A sheer, gauzy wrap was tied loosely around her hips, doing nothing to obscure the view. Her skin was golden, slick with sunscreen and a fine sheen of sweat.
“Mason,” she purred, spotting him. Her eyes traveled over him, from his wind-tousled dark hair down the solid plane of his chest,
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