After a fabulous morning in bed with orgasms too numerous to count, Ruf produced his Valentine’s gift.

It was a handwritten love letter extolling my virtues and perfections over two A4 pages. You will understand that I cried profusely, especially bearing in mind that, unbeknown to him, some weeks previously in a comment on someone else’s post that he couldn’t possibly have seen, I had said that my ideal Valentine’s gift would be a handwritten love letter.

I have never told him that.

I cannot even begin to put into words how much those two pieces of paper meant to me and I held them close to my heart as he made love to me once more. Gently and carefully, he held my body and took possession of it with such passion that even the slightest internal movement translated into an almost visceral pleasure that permeated my body and enveloped my mind with the enormity of his love...