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“I will sleep here Wednesday night. We’ll talk about you staying here then.”I would have to think about my emotions about all that. I felt that ...hings were moving a bit fast but didn’t know how to slow them down nor was I sure I wanted things to slow down. I knew already that Rachel was smart, beautiful, and liked me lots. She had spoken of love. I cared for her much more than “like” but hadn’t yet truly identified my feelings about her. I felt that I would need to move my thinking further. On Monday morning, Virgil prepared for work. He discovered his clothes were now all feminine: plenty of dresses and skirts, no ties or dinner jackets. After putting on a lime green dress and white open-toed sandals, Virgil showed up at the insurance company he worked for. But his boss shocked him by saying, "You don't work here, Virginia. Where's that super-late husband of yours?"Virginia? Husband? This is getting too weird, Virgil thought to himself. Apparently we HAVE switched roles. He. You can feel my toes massaging your groin, mmmmmm. I can feel your cock stirring in your trousers, twitching. We stay there for a while, sipping our drinks. Teasing you subtly so sexy you can’t take your eyes off me, wanting to tease you till you explode… I finish my drink and slip my foot back into my stiletto. I stand and walk towards you; your hands grip your pint, nervously. I lean towards you and whisper in your ear ‘let’s go play…’ I take your hand; you’re a little reluctant to stand up. Perhaps they knew about her relationship with Bilal who, in any case, had been transferred to a refugee camp in the North of England where there was an urgent requirement for cheap labour to help shore up the collapsing flood defences. Tamara was now alone, wretched and grieving in South London, but at least she no longer had to share a mattress with two brothers, a distant cousin from what had once been Tel Aviv and an uncle who farted most of the night.For the first few nights, Tamara wasn't.
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