For a brief second he considered leaving. But he realized that the sound was only something such as a fork or knife dropping on the floor. Not a sign ...hat anybody was coming down. And again he was taking a different approach today and was not going to be deterred easily.Just as he started to reach back down she began to turn "in her sleep". She rolled away from him toward the center of the bed. At first, he thought this was a sign that she was stopping even though he had decided not to. But. "It wasn't about love," he pleaded lamely. "It was just the sex."Theirs had become routine. Twice or three times a week, it was the same old thing. He needed more, he told her. Something different. Something special. Something unique.Over the course of three long weeks they had skirted the issue, then hit it head on. They played bob and weave, ducked and collided. The issue at hand was seldom far from the front."What do you want me to do?" she asked. "Forgive you?" Yes. But I see that isn't. More

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