Byron Bay.

Dripping sea water on the pages of my book.

Incense wafting, inventing cocktails at the hour when the cicada orchestra starts tuning.

Laying across his lap after tennis, his hand climbing past my knee, to the hem of my skirt.

The waterfall was so powerful,

I want to lie between the torrents and feel your eyes caressing me from the shore.

The waterfall photoshoot was completely serendipitous. The sun was setting and nobody else was in sight. The perfect excuse to indulge in some exhibitionism.

Later on,

he told me how much it turned him on, watching my wet, naked body from across the lake.