" I say it’s not necessary, but Su-Yun is adamant. "I go out, you take off everything but underwear and get under sheet," she instructs. "I study sp...rts massage. You will not be disappointed." A couple minutes later, I'm stretched out on fresh towels with a thin sheet covering my back and my brief-clad ass. "I'm ready, Su-Yun," I call. To my surprise, she doesn’t touch my skin directly, but massages my neck and back and legs through the cotton fabric. She wasn't exaggerating, her touch is firm. "Part of playing the game is losing. You've got to know how to lose. And, baby, you just lost. Did you ever!"Sylvia's glance shot up to Cash, her eyes burning in a reflection of her inner fear and contempt for him, but she didn't speak or move a single one of her sleekly velvet muscles. Instead, her face turned into a kind of mask, a death mask-- expressionless and totally immobile--as though she had suddenly thrown a switch which had shut off all feelings, both mental and physical. Cash bent. Daisy had always agreed with me, or so I assumed. Looking back, I can't remember her ever actually voicing that agreement, but I certainly believed that I knew her position.I am a few years older than Daisy, and as my 33rd birthday approached, I was feeling a bit sullen about my encroachment of middle age. I was also vaguely disturbed about the number itself: 33. I have always been a student of folklore and epic poetry, and the number three is quite mystical. In college, I had written my. "Jeff watched in amusement as his wife scrunched up he face in anger, herhands were clenched so tight he thought her long red nails might draw blood,"Come on babe," he said with a sneer, "say something smart now."Erica looked at her husband, making sure to take in all his features. Shelooked at his handsome face, his big broad shoulders and arms, his musculartorso, and the above average appendage that she would miss the most."Hab an noch tra..." Erica said with a sigh.Jeff felt a jolt of pain.