Boracay

Tires burned in the asphalt though they proved to be stubborn as they should be.You arrive at Caticlan airport, not the island and the two of you headed to the jetty port to go and arrive to the beaches, enjoying the crystal clear oceans around the two of you once you were in and taking a horse-drawn carriage to your hotels.

The receptionist greeted the two of you with a smile as he checked the logs on his computer.

“Mr. Doe and Ms. Wurtzbach, it’s an honor to have you two staying here.” As he types something on his keyboard and checking for confirmation before he handed you a logbook, a pen to sign with, and your room key which was grabbed by Pia, “If you need anything else, just call us.”

“We will.” One of you says before heading to the elevators, only to immediately feel the heat and breeze of the courtyard to go and find your room. Onlookers and other guests gaze at the two of you, enticed at the fact that they were staying with celebrities until you’ve found room 42 in which unpacking starts.

Clothing was thrown inside appropriate wardrobes and drawers, alongside towels and hygiene kits, you find yourselves in the middle of the afternoon, hungry for a meal.

You look at Pia and she glances at you as well with a smirk before the sight of a strap seeking freedom from one of her tanned shoulders. Before you could point that out, she was the first one that was asking questions.

“So babe, 2 hours of flying with crappy airline food. What do you want to eat?” Then the strap falls to her shoulders and you felt something in your shorts raise itself excitedly, obvious to the both of you.