‘Somebody sent me flowers and gifts for my anniversary…’ She flashed that special smoldering grin that tugs at me, pulling into her swirling vor...ex to drown, happily, in her damp folds never to surface again. ‘It could have been me. I think it’s our anniversary, isn’t it?’ ‘Hmm,’ was her measured response. I grabbed her ankles, one in each hand, and gently pulled her body down the bed, her arms and hair following in trail, a languid path of passion soaking through the covers permeating our bed. He had already seen it seventeen times at least, but he watched the climactic moments once again: the teams racing across the ice, pounding along side by side, Tiffany so tiny behind the drive bow of the sled, but so intense and dedicated. Once again, he heard Kirsten's yell of "Come on, Tiffany," shouted right into the videocamera's microphone, and once again he followed the teams racing down the chute as Kirsten had panned to follow them across the finish line. He and Mark had seen the tape. More

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