Four against one was bad odds at the best of times. The baseball bats they were carrying tipped the odds from bad to suicidal. I knew some kung fu, bu...t nothing that would help me survive against these punks. I took the only realistic option open to me and bolted like a scared rabbit.This was just fucking great. I was dripping blood and covered with salsa, separated by a thin grey barrier I could never cross from my girlfriend and a life of paradise with her and her friends, running for my life. .." You're right. You're not the only one 'sliding sideways' through space and time, as you call it. It's my life as well, you know, although I don't have a term for it. It's just I've never met anyone the same as me in that way."Quentin shook his head violently and squeezed his eyes tight. When he opened them, Vivienne was still there."You mean you're like me? Every day you wake up and live in a slightly different world, subtly changing and mutating?"Vivienne nodded. She opened her cigarette. You don’t fancy dick? You only like fingers in your pussy and ass? Maybe you want more than three fingers? Are you a fist-slut? He sat down between your feet. You were glistening of the butter. He slided inn one finger..played…the sounds indicated that you enjoyed it. Not long after he used two fingers. I could see he to was very aware of the G-spot, and he had no hurry. He massaged, used the other hand to play with your lips and clitoris.You started to wiggle your crotch and making more. He looked like a milksop: a slightly built youth with curly golden hair, big blue eyes, and a complexion, and eye lashes, for which a woman would eagerly sell herself. Put a bonnet on his head, a gown over his body and some rouge on his cheeks and Master Charles St. John would pass as a very desirable Mistress Charlotte St. John. At first the men called him Molly, which was an epithet thrown not only at effeminate looking men but also at those men who preferred males to females. The first time.