Silver fox meets massage water jets

I have much to confess. Or rather, to tell you; I do not think, after all, I am a sinner.
My age does not matter. I am in menopause, with increasingly wavering hormones; with several extra pounds and, I thought, no more erotic prospects. Of course, the desire sometimes takes me; but the thought of ending up being a container of male liquid outbursts doesn’t really excite me.
So I was living my sexuality through increasingly rare masturbations that, after I reached an orgasm, made me feel empty and unsatisfied.
Until that day.
I went with friends at a wellness center and I was immersed, alone, in the great whirl pool. I was leaning with my back on one of the massage jets. I was moving up and down, increasingly until I feel the strong jet pressure flow along the furrow between my buttocks and get to the cunt. I lingered in this movement to sit, stop, onto the nozzle. Since much time I did not feel a sense of pleasure and fulfillment that all that water gave me. By now it was done: I pulled back the swimsuit and the lukewarm water jet seemed to penetrate me.
To be continued.