Feeling the bedpost fill my wet insides, coupled with my finger diddling my most sensitive sexual organ, I moaned deeply as my orgasm formed. Little b... little, as I rocked my body up and down over the bedpost, I felt my orgasm building. Each time I fell over the oval, my clit pulsed outward and poked against my finger hard. In a fast motion, I massaged over it using the hot dripping liquid that escaped between my stretched pink lips and the bedpost inside me. The quick flicking sent my body. Walking the town, hand in hand, with frequent stops to kiss, we explored the little knick-knack shops, antiques stores, historic hotels, museums, art galleries, etc. As a recovering alcoholic, I can’t have champagne, and Eric never acquired a taste for alcohol. So at one little shop, we bought a bottle of sparkling cider to share for our romantic Valentine’s Day. Then off to this cute little bed and breakfast I found for us, where there was a hot tub sunk into the bedroom floor, just big enough. More

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