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all the tiny islets, nestled in the Lagoon settlement and the numerous vessels bustling the waterways. They arrived while it was still light, and the hotel had sent a private launch, which was waiting to transfer them from the airport for their stay. Eleanor had been to Venice before and had thought it magnificent, her memory hadn’t played tricks on her, she was breathless with awe as the vessel gathered speed and whizzed them past the iconic vistas to the hotel.
    Eleanor surveyed the surroundings of the superb hotel with undisguised awe, surrounded by stunning gardens, lush with colourful, flourishing plants, an inner courtyard flowing water, led to a set of steps, which in turn opened out into the grandeur of the hotel reception. The lobby replete with cool, marble floors, adorned with vases filled with fresh, beautiful flowers, artistically displayed, fabulous works of art were hanging on the walls, sculptures rested on plinths beneath magnificent archways, leading to the rest of the hotel.
    Situated in an area away from the busiest parts of Venice, it was the best on this island, and Matthew knew that it would be perfect for their stay. He impressed Eleanor, first by speaking fluent Italian with the clerk checking them in and then by having booked a suite that boasted two balconies overlooking the gardens, beyond which lay the sparkling Adriatic Sea.
    Once in their room, he poured them each a drink from the minibar while they waited for the porter to bring their luggage.
    “Do you like it?”
    “It’s simply lovely,” she replied, “this room is palatial,” she continued over her shoulder, opening one of the sets of double doors, and stepping out onto the balcony. The sun had dipped out of sight, and it was growing dark.
    The porter arrived with their cases, took his tip and left.
    “We’ll eat downstairs tonight,” said Matthew, “we can go out early tomorrow by launch to Piazza San Marco before it gets busy, it won’t be too crowded at this time of year. The waterbuses are okay, but they’re always packed, so we may as well take advantage of the privacy of taxis.”
    Listening from her vantage point on the balcony, Eleanor happily agreed, the taxis would take them more or less anywhere they wanted to go, they would have freedom to explore. She preferred this time of year too, this part of Europe was still warm, balmy rather than hot, she loved the last of the summer flowers, their scent hanging in the air, inhaling deeply she looked out toward the sea.
    At supper that night, Matthew was pleased that the attentive staff were clearly charmed by Eleanor who looked beautiful in a deep red, jersey dress with a demurely high neck. The fabric was soft and draped fluidly from her trim waist to her ankles. Completing the look with flat, red leather pumps, wearing simple, pearl studs in her ears, her splendid hair gathered up into an intricate clasp-like device, which Matthew fantasised about unfastening and allowing her pale curls to tumble around her shoulders.
    The knowledge that she hadn’t put on any underwear gave him the first stirrings of an erection while he contemplated what he’d like to do with her later. He adored her hair either up or down, but delighted in bunching it in his hands while shagging her from behind. His cock stiffened, his thoughts wandering to her pert arse and the way it looked when she was prone beneath his thrusts. He hurried them through the rest of the meal, desperate to take her back up to their room.
    Unlocking the door to their suite he said, “Go out onto the balcony, Eleanor, I will join you shortly.”
    Eleanor stepped through the doors leading to the balcony, which was surrounded with a stone balustrade just a few inches or so higher than her waist, the wall was large and solid, and she leaned onto it and looked down into the gardens below. She could smell the trees and other fragrances in the night air.
    Matthew approached.
    “Don’t look around,” he warned.
    He had