The Hottest Summer Love Stories We've Ever Published

Cosmopolitan

a day ago

Hello and welcome to the hottest time of the year. That's right, it's finally summer—we made it! And what do you do when the weather gets warmer, the nights get longer, and the clothes get skimpier? That's right: You head directly to the Hamptons for a spontaneous, one-day affair to remember with a wealthy stranger in his seaside mansion, accidentally fall for your best friend's dad on summer vacation in Spain, and—of course—spend an entire weekend getting over your ex-boyfriend by getting under a hot Australian lifeguard.
Or that's how some of your favorite Cosmo writers have done it, anyway. If you're a fan of ours, then chances are you're also a fan of Confessay—our personal essay series where real folks like yourself share the hottest, completely true stories of their real-life sexual encounters in intimate detail. And while there's a Confessay for all seasons, there's just something about a sultry summertime romance that hits different.
For your entertainment (and inspiration) as we slide into this, the steamiest of seasons, here are the hottest tales of summer love we've ever published, ranked. If you weren't sweating already, these stories will definitely have you cranking up the AC—and, of course, adding a few new items to your summer bucket list.
'Take a picture of me,' I said, my knees nearly touching the dusty ground of the alleyway. It was June, a hot and humid summer in the South of France, and I was kneeling in front of a French man I had met less than six hours earlier.
'C'mon, take a picture of me,' I smiled, balancing on the balls of my feet with my skirt hiked up my legs, looking longingly up at him as I felt his body give way to me.
He hesitated a little. 'Are you sure?' he asked.
'Yes, I'm sure,' I said with a longing stare. He paused but not so long that I became impatient. I started like this: teasing him with my fingers, his grey boxers between my skin and his, feeling his hardness push against them. Pulling them down slowly and then all at once, I could hear his breathing change as my lips came into contact with his thighs. He smelled like aftershave, the five cigarettes he'd smoked on the beach, and the subtle scent that summer leaves on your skin….
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It was a flawless summer day and I was going to the beach. Did I have any plans to go to the beach? Absolutely none. But being a modern woman of the world—or at least a woman with access to dating apps—I didn't see any reason I couldn't Tinder some up. I threw on a bikini and got to swiping for the lucky rando who would have the honor of escorting me to the coast that day.
Truth be told, I'd been in a bit of a dating dry spell—and thus, by extension, a sexing one—for the past several months. And the longer it's been, the higher my standards. Still, I somehow had faith that the dating app gods would bring me the perfect beach date that day.
Miraculously, they delivered—a fit, tan, early-50s daddy type who, as a 20-something with a thing for older guys, just so happened to be my type. Within just a few messages, he invited me out to his house in the Hamptons. This beach day had just gotten a lot more glamorous….
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'Hey, I don't mean to bother you but, uh, you were the girl doing cartwheels earlier, right?' some handsome guy asked, taking off his sunglasses to look me in the eye.
Yes, yes I was the 30-year-old woman in a red G-string bikini doing gymnastics on the beach. What can I say? I'm old enough to know what not to do and young enough to get away with it. I closed my journal and gave him a once over. Fit! This could be fun, I thought.
So even though I'd planned for my solo beach day to be about healing my inner child (per my therapist) and getting sexy tan lines (per my OnlyFans), I decided to go off script and indulge with Matt*.
We vibed right away—flirting about psychedelics and love languages—and exchanged socials before going our separate ways. A few hours later, Matt slid into my DMs, showing me a present he had for me: a black Vixen thong bikini. He told me he loved buying merch from sex-worker-owned companies and I couldn't help but giggle—he had no idea he was talking to a sex worker in the flesh….
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For many Americans, the Fourth of July is a day of hot dogs and pyrotechnics. And for me, one fateful Independence Day about five years ago, it was also a day for metaphorical fireworks—in the form of one of the best public quickies I've ever had.
Hanging with my friends in the park as we waited for the first colorful boom to flash above us, a redheaded hottie caught my eye—killer smile in a blue flannel shirt, freckles dusted beautifully across the bridge of his nose, and eyes so deep blue, they almost looked brown in the fading light.
I tried desperately not to stare, but he must have felt my gaze—within moments, he broke from his conversation and looked right over at me. Embarrassed to be caught ogling, I quickly looked away. But mere seconds later, I checked over to see if I had thrown him off.
Nope: He locked eyes with me and gave me a little mischievous smile. My heart started racing; I felt like I was in trouble—but the good kind of trouble. And damn if I wasn't game to see just how much trouble we could get into together….
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When my long-distance bestie, Maria*, invited me to come spend my summer break with her at her dad's place in Granada, I booked the budget airline tickets and landed in Spain sooner than you could say hasta luego. After we caught up on the drive home from the airport, Maria introduced me to her dad, Marco*.
When she'd mentioned her dad previously, I'd always imagined a beer belly and receding hairline (not that there's anything wrong with a dad bod). But Marco had the physique of a Hemsworth brother with a strong jawline and muscles practically bulging through his shirt.
He was probably in his mid-40s and had the same dark curls and chocolate eyes as Maria, but stood a foot taller at 6'3" and flaunted a deeper tan. The flecks of gray peppered throughout his hair and the smile lines around his eyes just made him look even sexier. As a serial dater of guys my age, I hadn't really understood the appeal of older men until that exact moment….
A few years ago, when my beach lifeguard best friend suggested I come down to visit her at the guard house to take my mind off a recent breakup, I jumped at the opportunity.
'Just get in the car now and come down for the weekend,' Megan* told me over the phone. 'There are, like, a million hot Australian men here.'
Soon enough, there I was, in a seaside bar surrounded by tons of hot Australian men…and one very hot Australian woman. Alex* had long, blonde wavy hair, sun-kissed skin, impressively toned arms and legs, and that warm, endearing Aussie accent. I couldn't stop staring at her sky-blue eyes. At one point, her hand 'accidentally' brushed against the inside of my upper thigh, and I knew in that instant I wouldn't be bothering with any boys that weekend.
When we got to the beach, everyone flung their clothes in the dunes before running to the ocean. I snuck a glance at Alex's tits, which were alarmingly perfect: somehow huge and perky at the same time. I grabbed her hand tightly as we ran into the freezing-cold water, diving under moonlit waves to swim farther out from where the rest of the group was floating….
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*Name has been changed.