We stop kissing, we stop our hands, and stare into each others eyes. ‘I love you’ I whisper ‘I love you too’ you whisper back. You kiss me ag...in. ‘Let’s go to bed’ you say huskily. I climb off you and grab the comforter as you stand. We walk hand in hand to our big king size bed. I throw the comforter onto the bed. I pull off my t-shirt, before I can unhook and remove my bra you are there. You put your arms around me and undo the clasp. You kiss my lips, then down my neck. Your hands slowly. Not where but with who. The last half a mile to the waterfall was downhill and Mom pulled away as I coasted down the slope. She was already off her bike and looking up at the cascade as I slowed and pulled to a stop. We stayed for thirty minutes before headed back along a different trail which took us down to the river. In all, the ride took just under three hours as we stopped several times on the return. Turning into Summerhill we were chatting when I suddenly lost all trace of thought on. “We need another splash each of bourbon.” I uncrossed my legs to stand up. Two things interesting: I wasn’t aware that I had protectively crossed my legs; and, he didn’t say I should pour the drinks, I just jumped to do it. He held his glass close, requiring me to come even closer. As I lowered the bottle to his glass, his hand went to the inside of my thigh. I gasped and shivered at his touch, forcing me to focus with increasing attention on pouring the amber liquid into his glass as his hand. He nodded, and changed the subject to other things. I maintained the same air, I had learned not to show relief at him changing the subject.I was back to my celibate lifestyle. This wasn't by choice, but I was just not going out and looking for male companionship. I did some mild flirting in the few days I had to myself. There was nothing that would have gotten the scandal rags worked up. I was photographed in Miami at a Starbucks; I was eating a turnover and sipping a mocha. I was wearing a.