Amy

Venice is a maze of narrow alleys, stone bridges, and little canals that twist and turn as if designed to lead you astray. The group is all together for this part of the tour, but at some point, Mark and I find ourselves a little separated from the others. A pack of chattering holidaymakers forms a wall between us and the rest of our friends, and Mark takes full advantage of the moment.

He leans in, close enough that his breath brushes against my ear, sending a delightful shiver down my spine. His voice is low, intimate, and full of promise.

“I’ve been imagining all morning what you’d look like, pinned against one of these old stone walls,” he murmurs, his voice so quiet only I can hear. “Think you’d be able to stay quiet if we slipped away somewhere?”

A flush rises in my cheeks as his words settle over me. I let out a slow, steady breath, fighting the urge to drag him around the next corner and find out exactly how well he’d follow through. I give him a coy smile and raise an eyebrow, letting him see I’m just as tempted, if not more.

“Guess we’ll have to test that out,” I whisper back, a hint of challenge in my voice, feeling a thrill at the idea that our friends are only a few paces away, none the wiser.

Bex

The tour winds through Venice, and we pass a row of vibrant stalls, each one overflowing with traditional Venetian masks, jewellery, and other bits and bobs. I can’t resist I dart over and begin trying on an assortment of masks, each one more elaborate than the last. My eyes find Jack, who’s watching with that familiar quiet curiosity, and an idea hits me.

I pick up a particularly elaborate mask, one with feathers and an elegant, sweeping design. I slide it on, making sure I’m out of Katie’s view, and tilt my head, studying him through the delicate eye holes. Feeling bold, I sidle up to him, adopting the posture of a stranger, lowering my voice to something husky, a little unfamiliar.

“Do you like what you see, stranger?” I ask, my tone playful, letting a finger trail lightly down his arm. He’s caught off guard, his eyes widening slightly, his cheeks darkening. I lean in closer, lowering my voice to a whisper, adding with a mischievous grin, “Meet me tonight in my room, and I’ll show you what’s underneath.”

His gaze flickers with intrigue, and I can see him trying to keep his composure, his lips parting slightly. The thrill of knowing Katie’s just a few feet away only adds to the excitement as I slip back to the stall, lifting the mask off with a grin as if nothing’s happened.

Katie

The church we visit next is breathtaking. It’s a massive, ancient building with high, vaulted ceilings and dim, filtered light streaming through the stained glass. The quiet is almost reverent, and it feels as if every whisper, every soft breath, would echo off the walls. We wander through, admiring the stonework, the carvings, the faded paintings. But Matt’s gaze isn’t on the art it’s on me. I feel his eyes on me, his look simmering with unspoken ideas, and I can’t resist a daring glance back at him.

I give him a small nod, and without a word, we break off from the others, finding our way to a darkened corner where the confessional booths stand like silent guardians of the church’s secrets. Slipping into one together, we sit close, the heavy wooden door shutting out the rest of the world. The space is tight, his shoulder pressing against mine, our knees touching, and suddenly, the church feels worlds away.

He takes my hand in his, squeezing gently, his face inches from mine, our voices barely more than breaths. “Think anyone would notice if we disappeared for a while?” he whispers, his eyes glinting with mischief.

I smirk, brushing my fingers over his hand. “Only if you can’t keep quiet,” I murmur back, my hand slipping to his thigh, feeling the tension there.

His voice drops lower, a soft rumble. “Pretty sure you’re the one I’d be worried about keeping quiet,” he teases, his fingers skimming lightly over my wrist, sending a thrill through me.

We lean closer, breaths mingling, and the weight of the church around us makes everything feel both sacred and forbidden. His hand slips up my back, steady and slow, and I feel my pulse race, the thrill of being so close to getting caught adding to the excitement.

Our whispers grow more daring, each word heavier, thicker with the promise of what’s to come. My fingers trace up his arm, my voice barely more than a whisper, each teasing word sparking a new surge of tension between us as we continue our secret exchange, hidden away in the shadows, daring each other to take things just a little further.

As we slip out, our friends none the wiser, we exchange one last smirk, both of us savouring the thrill of our hidden moment, feeling more charged than ever as we rejoin the tour.

Katie

The air is warm and thick with the scents of fresh bread, espresso, and the occasional hint of basil as we settle into the small, bustling café. Our group takes up a little cluster of tables outside, shaded by a bright awning that overlooks one of Venice’s many narrow streets. I sit between Jack and Bex, sipping my coffee and catching the glint of playful smiles, a few lingering glances, and the quiet thrill that’s pulsed between us all day.

The tour had been a whirlwind of secret touches, fleeting looks, and quiet whispers each stolen moment somehow making the city feel even more enchanting. Now, as we tuck into fresh pasta and Italian pastries, everyone’s relaxed, maybe a little flushed from the morning, but we’re all keen to keep the day’s momentum going.

“So, what’s the plan for this afternoon?” Amy asks, brushing a lock of auburn hair back as she glances around the table. Her eyes are bright, her energy clearly boundless. “I think a gondola ride would be amazing.”

I share a look with Bex, both of us stifling small smiles as everyone reacts in unison with good-natured groans.

“Too touristy,” Mark chuckles, rolling his eyes. “The romance of it is nice, but, do we really need to go full-on Venice cliché?”

“Exactly!” I chime in, grinning at Amy. “Besides, gondolas are so slow. I’d rather spend time at the Doge’s Palace, soak in a bit more history.”

Amy sighs, leaning back with a defeated but playful pout. “Can’t believe I’m the only one who wants a gondola ride in Venice! Fine. I’ll go by myself if I have to.”

Jack, who has been casually stirring his espresso, glances up, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “You don’t have to go alone. I’m not too fussed about what we do this afternoon. If you want to take the gondola, I’ll come with you.”

The look of satisfaction in Amy’s eyes as she meets Jack’s gaze doesn’t escape me, and I sense the same thrill that’s coloured every little moment between us today.

Matt leans back, giving Bex a quick grin. “Well, if you’re all doing that, we could wander the market stalls, sample a bit of street food as we go,” he suggests. “It’s pretty packed, but I’m sure we’ll find something.”

Bex lights up, nodding eagerly. “Yes! We didn’t get nearly enough time with all those food stalls this morning. And I’m pretty sure there was something with figs and cheese I need to try.”

They share a conspiratorial look, and I can’t help but smirk. I know exactly what’s at play here, the subtle game of pairing off, each of us careful to keep things casual, like a group of friends discussing plans instead of something more, orchestrated.

Mark nods, pulling out his phone for a quick search. “Alright, Doge’s Palace it is then. I could go for a little history.”

The quiet excitement among us is unmistakable. No one mentions the obvious that each of us has, in some way, paired up with someone else’s partner. But we all tread carefully, our words friendly and our faces open, as though there’s nothing unusual about the choices.

Jack raises his cup to the table, and we all follow suit, clinking our cups and glasses in a silent, unspoken agreement. The arrangements are settled, and a lightness sweeps over the table, the thrill of the plan buzzing quietly as we laugh over some joke Matt makes about Italian gelato.

As we finish lunch, each of us subtly checks that no one’s gaze lingers too long on anyone else. We all stand, stretching and gathering our bags, preparing to go our separate ways for the afternoon. I feel Jack’s hand briefly brush mine as he stands close, a silent reminder that he’ll be off with Amy, their own plans unspoken but unmistakable in the spark between them.

I catch Bex’s eye as she loops her arm through Matt’s, both of them grinning as they head off toward the market stalls, looking every bit the friends out for a casual afternoon.

As for me, I link arms with Mark, sharing a quick smile as we start toward the palace. The others slowly disappear into the vibrant streets, each pair slipping into their own Venice adventure, and a quiet thrill settles over me as I imagine where the afternoon will lead us.

Jack

As soon as Amy and I slip away from the café, hidden from the others by a crowd of tourists and winding Venetian alleys, the atmosphere between us changes. Her hand finds mine, fingers interlocking, and she gives me a playful grin, one that tells me she’s been waiting for this all morning. There’s a sense of freedom in it, of breaking from the group and allowing ourselves to step into this pretend romance that we’ve been flirting with all day.

We approach a small dock where a gondola is waiting, the gondolier nodding and giving us a friendly greeting in Italian. Amy’s hand squeezes mine as we step carefully into the narrow boat, settling onto the cushioned seats. The gondolier starts to steer us gently into the canal, the boat gliding smoothly over the water. The narrow alleyways and ancient stone facades reflect in the water around us, a living postcard of Venice. But neither of us is paying much attention to the sights anymore.

Amy leans into me, her shoulder pressing against mine, and I catch a faint, sweet scent that’s uniquely hers. She gazes up at me, her eyes full of playful mischief, as she trails a finger lightly along my thigh. I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer, and let my fingers drift down, grazing her arm with a gentle touch. Her breath catches slightly, and I can feel the warmth of her body against mine, the tension between us thickening with each shared look and subtle touch.

The gondolier’s back is to us, giving us just enough privacy. A few couples glance over as they pass by on foot, but Amy and I are so wrapped up in each other that the rest of the world fades away. Her fingers continue their slow exploration, edging higher along my thigh, and my hand mirrors hers, slipping down her arm, my fingers tracing the soft skin at the inside of her wrist before sliding under the blanket she’s pulled over our laps. It’s a warm day, almost too warm for a blanket, but we don’t care.

I feel her hand press more firmly against me, her fingers grazing, teasing, sending a thrill through me as I bite back a smile. Beneath the blanket, hidden from view, I let my hand drift to her thigh, slipping beneath the fabric of her skirt and feeling the warmth of her skin. She shifts slightly, opening her legs just enough to let me in, a slight smirk playing on her lips as she keeps her face perfectly innocent, almost as though she’s commenting on the scenery.

We fall into a rhythm, our movements slow and subtle to avoid drawing attention. I can feel the soft, quickening breaths she takes as I brush my fingers along her inner thigh, inching higher, tracing delicate circles over her sensitive skin. Her own hand finds me under the blanket, fingers wrapping around with a steady, teasing pressure that makes my heart pound. Every touch, every stroke, brings us closer, the hidden nature of it all making each sensation sharper, each glance charged with excitement.

The gondolier’s voice drifts back to us in Italian, pointing out the landmarks as we pass, but neither of us is listening. I see the way Amy’s cheeks flush, her gaze flicking between me and the passing cityscape, her breaths coming faster as my hand finds its mark, pressing gently against her. She bites her lip, stifling a soft gasp as I continue, my fingers moving in time with hers, both of us balancing on that edge, our eyes locked, both barely holding back.

The heat rises, a crescendo building as we move in sync, every soft brush and careful press adding to the growing tension beneath the blanket. My heart races as I feel her shudder, her body tensing as her hand grips me tighter, her eyes closing briefly as she reaches the peak. I follow her lead, letting the waves of pleasure crash over me, her fingers drawing me in with that perfect rhythm. Together, we stifle our breaths, the secret of our climax hidden from the world around us as Venice sails by, a silent witness to our private moment.

Just as our breathing steadies, the gondola turns and we see the dock ahead. We exchange a quick, amused glance, our faces flushed and hearts racing. As the gondolier brings the boat to a stop, Amy adjusts her skirt and gives me a playful nudge, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Guess the gondola ride wasn’t so tacky after all,” she whispers, grinning as we step onto the dock, Venice now forever entwined with our shared secret.

Matt

As Bex and I wander through the bustling Venetian market, hand in hand, the city feels alive around us. She’s been pulling me from stall to stall, her enthusiasm contagious, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she eyes every new trinket, every brightly coloured bauble. I can’t keep my eyes off her. Bex has always had a natural, easy confidence about her that drives me crazy, and today it’s in full swing. She’s wearing a tight T-shirt that hugs her curves in all the right ways and a pair of short shorts that show off her toned legs and shapely hips. Where Amy and Katie are more athletic, Bex is all curves, her figure a perfect hourglass, and every glance in her direction stirs something deep inside me.

As we pass a food stall, Bex’s eyes light up. She orders a sticky treat drizzled with honey and coated in nuts, her gaze flicking over to me as she holds it up, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Here,” she murmurs, bringing the treat to my lips. “Taste.”

I lean in, taking a bite, the sweetness hitting my tongue just as she presses her lips to mine, tasting the honey on my mouth, her lips warm and inviting. She lingers there for a second, then pulls back, smiling slyly before eating the rest herself. When she’s done, she doesn’t grab a napkin oh no, Bex has other plans. She slowly, one by one, licks her fingers clean, her tongue swirling over each sticky finger, her eyes meeting mine with a teasing glint.

It’s driving me mad. The way her lips and tongue move, the way she draws it out, knowing exactly what effect she’s having on me. My pulse quickens, and I can’t wait any longer.

Taking her hand, I pull her toward a narrow alley just off the main path, away from the bustling crowd. Once we’re hidden from view, I press her back against the wall, my lips crashing onto hers, tasting the last trace of honey on her mouth. She kisses me back with equal hunger, her hands tangling in my hair, and the world around us falls away. My hands slip down to her hips, pulling her close, feeling the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her shorts.

Without a word, I slide my hands down to the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down just enough to give me access, and she lets out a quiet, excited gasp. Her fingers find the zipper of my shorts, and with practiced ease, she frees me, her hand grazing over me as we breathe each other in, our hearts racing. I can feel her, warm and wet with anticipation, and the sensation sends a shiver through me.

Bex turns, bracing her hands on the wall, her hips pressing back towards me, her ass perfectly positioned, inviting, and I can’t resist. I move into her, our bodies connecting with a soft, shared gasp, and I feel her shudder slightly as she leans further into me, her back arching, her head tilted just enough to catch my eye over her shoulder. I wrap one arm around her waist, my other hand reaching around to find that sensitive spot between her thighs, my fingers moving in sync with each thrust.

The alley is quiet, hidden, but every so often, a passerby’s voice drifts through, the occasional footstep reminding us just how close we are to being caught. It only heightens the excitement. I bite my lip, stifling a groan as Bex’s body moves against mine, her breaths coming faster, her hands gripping the wall for support as we both try to keep quiet.

The pace quickens, our movements growing urgent, each thrust deeper than the last, the friction building as I feel her tighten around me. My hand continues its rhythm, drawing soft gasps from her as we near the edge together. Her head tilts back, her body trembling against me as we finally reach that peak, the tension breaking in a wave of pleasure that leaves us both breathless, struggling to stay standing as our knees weaken, our bodies pressed close in the tight space.

We take a moment to catch our breath, still leaning against each other, hearts pounding. Finally, we redress, a bit unsteady as we straighten our clothes and smooth out our hair, sharing a quick laugh at the thrill of what we’ve just done.

As we step back into the bustling market, our hands find each other’s again, the desires from earlier only slightly sated, the promise of more lingering between us with every shared glance.

Mark

As Katie and I wander through the grand halls of the Doge’s Palace, I find myself more captivated by her than by the centuries-old paintings and intricate architecture around us. She’s moving with a relaxed confidence, her yellow summer dress catching the light from the tall windows, her movements easy and graceful. She’s shorter than Bex, with that athletic build and smaller frame, but she has a natural magnetism, and today, it’s all dialed up.

We walk close, brushing shoulders as we move between displays and sculptures, and Katie keeps leaning in, her voice low, teasing, and entirely seductive.

“Imagine slipping away here,” she whispers, her breath warm against my ear. “Maybe finding a little corner where I could get you out of those shorts.” She flashes me a smirk, and I swallow hard, trying to keep my face neutral.

Or, as we pass a beautifully carved fireplace, she gives me a glance and murmurs, “What would you do if I were to pull you into a room, strip off this dress, and let you have your way with me right here?”

Her words are sending a slow burn through me, each whisper more provocative than the last. I try to keep my focus on the exhibits, but with each teasing phrase, my attention slips further. It’s becoming obvious that Katie’s enjoying watching me squirm, and I can’t deny the thrill it’s sending through me.

As we pass an elegant but quiet corridor roped off by a simple red velvet rope, she suddenly stops. She looks around quickly, checking that no one’s watching, then, with a sly grin, ducks under the rope, gesturing for me to follow. I hesitate, glancing around, but the daring look in her eye pulls me forward, and I slip under the rope, trailing after her down the dim corridor. My heart pounds as we make our way to the end of the hall, where a small, secluded balcony overlooks the bustling plaza below.

Katie turns to face me, her expression unmistakable. Her eyes are lit with excitement, and her lips curl into a mischievous smile. Before I can say a word, she sinks to her knees, her hands moving quickly, tugging me free of my shorts. The thrill of our secret spot, hidden from view yet with the open plaza right below us, sends a rush through me.

Katie looks up at me, holding my gaze with a confidence that only heightens my anticipation. She begins slowly, her lips brushing over me, her mouth warm and skilled, knowing exactly how to tease with just enough pressure. Her hand wraps around the base, keeping me steady as her mouth works its way down with practiced ease, each motion slow and deliberate, drawing me further in. I lean back against a pillar, fighting to keep my breathing steady as she takes her time, her mouth moving in a steady rhythm that’s both teasing and relentless.

Every flick of her tongue, every gentle suction is measured, a deliberate combination of moves she’s perfected. She’s learned my responses, knows exactly how to push me to the edge without taking me over, and it’s sending a powerful tension through my whole body. Her eyes never leave mine, and it’s clear from her gaze that she’s enjoying every second, taking her time and drawing out the pleasure.

At one point, Katie reaches into her bag, pulling out her phone, setting it down and hitting record. She smirks up at me, letting her lips move slowly as she holds my gaze, making sure every angle is caught, clearly revelling in the idea of giving the camera a show. The thought of it only adds to the intensity, making every movement feel more daring, more reckless, as she continues with a perfect rhythm.

I feel myself reaching the edge, and she senses it too, pulling back just enough, holding me in her hand as her mouth continues to work in steady, skilled motions. The thrill of the open plaza, the sunlight streaming in, and the beautiful, hidden setting only add to the building sensation. Finally, I can’t hold back any longer, and she pulls back just in time, positioning herself to catch my release, her face and dress splattered in the aftermath. She grins, letting out a quiet laugh as she wipes her lips, the satisfaction in her eyes unmistakable.

After a quick, discreet clean-up, though with a few remnants of evidence left on her dress, Katie stands, flashing me a satisfied smile as she takes my hand, leading me back toward the main section. We’re barely out of the corridor when we spot a security guard standing just around the corner, his gaze narrowing as he notices the slight mess on Katie’s dress.

Katie bats her eyelashes, tilting her head innocently. “Oh, I’m so sorry! We got a little lost, the palace is a bit of a maze, isn’t it?” she says sweetly.

The guard doesn’t look convinced, but he gives us a pointed nod and escorts us back to the main area, reminding us, “Please, stay in the public areas.” His stern tone barely hides a hint of suspicion, but he says nothing more.

As he walks away, Katie catches my eye and grins, her hand brushing mine as we rejoin the crowd, the thrill of our hidden encounter lingering between us as we blend back into the bustling palace.