"Sure. I guess."He was a stocky fella, probably in his mid to late 50's. Tanned all over, hairy, and a bit of a pot belly. He smiled and stretched out...his towel, and lay on his front, faced turned away from me. The lady stretched out her towel between us, but did not lie down straight away. She stood for a moment, looking toward the sea. "Beautiful isn't it?" she asked, glancing down at me.I was at a loss for words, since she was standing quite close, legs slightly parted, and all I was looking. There was no way in the world I would be able to keep up withher. I liked to think I was being noble, but I wasn't. The fact was, Iwas just a little bit frightened of Amy. It's funny, but there was atime when a woman sometimes feared getting too involved with a manbecause, being bigger and stronger, the man might hurt her. Those dayswere pretty much gone now, but a new form of abuse had reared its uglyhead - magical abuse. Sex didn't matter now since masculine strengthcould be counterbalanced. More

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