He had used every technique they had taught. Visualization usually ended up with him reliving the night where she had slowly stripped out of his shirt...in the pale moonlight. Counting took on new meaning as he would enumerate the thousands of ways he wanted to make love to his wife. And disconnecting, forget it. It was impossible to disconnect from her, not when she lay so impossibly close. His wife. His in all the ways except the one that mattered. ‘I don’t know, Dad. The girls are a handful.. The cold wind was blowing in off the water, pushing the heat back in land.Behind her were the sounds of the party still going on. She turned to look and should still see the dull glow of the dance floor just behind the rise of the sand dunes.Like ghosts the figures came over the rise, clothing dropping like autumn leaves. Laughing voices charging towards the surf.Bare skin dimpling at the first touch of the cold salt water, the sound of splashing filling the air as hormone enflamed bodies. More

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