" You want to go swimming?" he asked."We're supposed to talk, aren't we?" she responded."We can talk standing in cool water," he said."Are you sure it...would be OK?" she asked."Bob called recess," he said, smiling. "You play at recess... and talk."Roberta reacted to the word "play" much differently than Jeff had meant it. She'd tried that same exact word with her husband one night, when he was hunched over the computer, researching a company's stock value."Come on, baby," she said, standing. With exaggerated patience, the lover’s hands continue their journey southwards along your wife’s taut stomach, still untouched by childbirth, lightly stroking those ticklish, sensitive areas you know and love so well. Down and down those fingers travel, and with slow inevitability, they come to that holiest-of-holy’s; to the rose garden that you claim by right as her husband. These are not your fingers, and yet your wife finds herself responding as she does with you. The fingers rub the soft. More

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