It’s not enough.’ It wasn’t that there hadn’t been love between us. It was that our love was impersonal, part of a reaching out to any reasona...le person to share the moment. It wasn’t personal to either of us. We could have shared our time and our love with any of a hundred compatible people. It wasn’t the kind of love that it had to be me, Robert, and her, Sarah, to be making love. Kind of hard to explain. Love means so many different things that you’d think a language with over two million. She laughed. "You look pretty good yourself, mate!" she said, and smiled. She turned and looked slyly at me and purred, "Would you massage my shoulders - please?” She had taken up position at my sink, bracing herself either side of the bowl. I reached into my medicine cabinet and squirted a little baby oil into my palm, heating it to body temperature. I poised myself as I rested my hands on her shoulders. I softly kneaded the muscles round her neck and shoulders. She almost groaned with each. More

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