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" I shrugged, suddenly depressed. "I feel like one of Robert's fossils. All the living stuff has been replaced with rock, leaving something that _looks_ like Kim but isn't really." I ran my fingertip around the smooth rim of my coffee mug, smearing the lipstick that had come off. I looked at the red stain on my finger. "And why? So Paul could marry a virgin." "It didn't matter to you, it did to him. That's what you said." "I know what I said," I told him as I scrubbed my fingertip clean with a tissue. "Except...except I think it does matter." I inspected my finger. It was fine. Unblemished. Born-again virginal. I looked past it, up at Gil. Awareness of him, of how _male_ he was, hit me like leaving a cool building for the summer sun. "I don't know what to think, Gil. What do you think?" "Kim," he said carefully, "I want to fuck you." My blood was roaring in my ears, I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly. "You said--" He nodded. "I know what I said. That doesn't change what I want. I. I was on the number seven bus, but standing.” “In that case, wait miss!” he said in a firm voice, “I best point you in the right direction, else you will only get lost.” He slowly rose from his chair and started to wobble to the other side of the desk. He was moving so slowly, I asked him if he was ok. He replied, “Yes miss, everything is in working order, but me leg does play up a bit.” Searching in his jacket pocket he added, “Bloody hell! I have forgotten me marker pen.” He turned around and asked me to help him go back behind the desk for it. I said sure, and was about to offer him my hand. Before I could say anything he had put his hand around my waist, so I slowly walked behind the desk with his arm and hand firmly around my waist. “Now, where’s my marker pen.” He said to himself. “Oh, I know! It’s on the bottom shelf.” As he bent down to the bottom shelf, I felt his hand slide from my waist down over my arse, which was covered with a tight black pencil skirt split at the.
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