Sitting in the crow’s nest tonight, watching the waves and thinking about my latest adventure. I crossed into a cozy apartment where the owner was home—tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of hands that make a girl weak. He tried to act surprised, but his cock was already hard through his jeans. We didn’t make it to the bedroom; I bent him over his own kitchen counter and fucked him until he begged me to stay. The best part? He came so hard he nearly knocked over a vase. I left before sunrise, but I took his favorite shirt as a trophy. Sometimes the best treasures aren’t gold—they’re the memories of a good, rough fuck and the scent of a man’s cum still on your skin. Who’s next on my list?