I’m now soaking wet, not from the shower, but you ministrations are making my juices flow. Suddenly, you flick your thumb across my clit, and I gasp...in pleasure, and try to grind against you, but you hold my hips firmly against the wall…. “Just stay still and let me pleasure you sweetheart”, I hear you say. “Trust me”. I relax more.. and do as you ask. I feel your fingers, gently probing, teasing, as they find their way through my wet folds…my pussy is slick, and hot, wanting you to slip inside. Winston was only the fourth man in my entire life. So I didn’t have much basis for comparison. Even now when I have so exhaustive and exhausting a basis for comparison, he is still exceptional. It was most definitely not: marry in haste, repent at leisure. At least not for me. And I don’t think for him. Despite everything that has happened, I still love him, though I can’t expect him to believe that. The problems were my work and winter. I did not realize how much more demanding being a partner. More

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