My Hand Got Jealous of the Bathtub Faucet

My vulva is in a monogamous relationship with my hand, but it cheats with the bathtub sometimes. My hand knows this is going on but looks the other way, because these incidents don't happen that often. Also, my vulva doesn't enjoy the stream from the bathtub faucet nearly as much as it enjoys stimulation from my hand, so most of the time, jealousy is not a problem. My vulva can get a little of something different on the side, and the next masturbation session back with my hand is really good, because my vulva is reminded of how much better the hand is. My hand is reassured of its superiority over the bathtub faucet. The last time I snuck in a bathtub session, I was a bit surprised by how much more I enjoyed it than was usual. It still wasn't as good as the average hand session, but it was very, very good. The warm, gentle trickle of water stimulated my clit just right. I laid back in absolute bliss with my hands behind my head and my feet up either side of the faucet as the tiny water tongue lapped at my special place. I allowed myself to go a bit longer than I usually did for a bathtub session, and when it came time for me to finish myself off, I did my usual thing of spreading my labia open to have the stream hit my clitoral glans directly, and a stronger than usual orgasm overpowered me. My feet flew off the tile wall and pointed straight up into the air as my knees were brought to my chest. They kicked and jerked wildly while I grunted orgasm grunts that were more typical of a hand session. The orgasm length was also more typical of a hand session. The next regular hand masturbation session I had after that one was a bit interesting. My hand accused my vulva of cheating. It said that it was prepared to put up with these dalliances only insofar as my vulva not enjoy them to that extent. My fingers stimulated my clit as usual, but there was anger behind it, too. Instead of a long, leisurely, loving session slowly building up the arousal and lingering on the edge, my hand denied my vulva the edge it so badly wanted. It kept on saying to it, "You enjoyed the bathtub, didn't you?! You liked it!", in an accusatory tone over and over again. I got very aroused by this conflict. The hand was punishing my vulva for what happened the last time by not edging it. I orgasmed, my vulva convulsing powerfully and violently with shame. The new rule is that because my vulva couldn't be trusted not to get that turned on by the bathtub, I'm only allowed to have a bathtub session once every other month. I've already used up my January, so it will be March before I can have another.