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"Putting on my most pathetic voice, I tried to plead, to say that I reallywasn't that sort of girl. OF course, to him I looked like exactly thatsort o... girl.I gasped as I felt his finger at my bottom, bit my lip to stop myselfshouting. The finger circled round, then dipped in...it seemed moist. Butthen, the finger went, and I felt something more threatening pushingslowly, but unstoppably, against my flower.Three times it pushed, and then on the fourth, it popped inside, andstarted a whole. Has he been watching me? Would I even have known? Perhaps Mutant John set this whole thing up! No, wait, it wasn’t Mutant John - it was someone much worse.It was me. I look at my spliff again. It has gone out, so I click the red Bic a few times and get it going. I shouldn’t smoke too much of this, I tell myself, and then I do – a great big lungful that seems to reveal hidden structures in the night around us, as if instead of marijuana, the stuff is made of those particles that pass through. " That's it," she spat. "Change the bloody subject and try to foist the blame onto me. It was your fault. My mum and dad were worried sick how I would manage in Germany, knowing what a philanderer you were. They knew you'd be off chasing tarts, leaving me alone at home, in a foreign country with no friends. It was them worrying about me that caused them to crash – and that was all your bloody fault."By now her face was an angry red, her eyes were blazing with fury, and she was gradually losing. Her lips looked puffier than usual, and he wondered if it washis imagination. Her scent was a tractor beam, drawing his lips closer andcloser to the tiny spot that he knew would drive her crazy. He drew a linefrom the bottom crease of her lips upward, until he caught her hood with thetip of his tongue. He flicked it, and she drew her breath. They knew what wascoming. He had brought her to the edge a dozen times over the last hour. Thistime would be no different, except for the increased level.