Chapter 1
Here's some excerpts from my latest short.
Walking into the Hare and Hounds pub in the centre of town, I remember saying to my wife something like, ‘I’m driving, you’re buying’.
It was Friday evening, and you could tell the place was ready for a busy night, but it was a little too early for it to be fully kicking into gear just yet. We managed to find a small table tucked around from the bar, advantageous in that it was quiet enough to talk, however a slight drawback of being on the route to the toilets...
I nursed a Guinness Zero while my wife, Charlie, downed a Chardonnay at double-speed and told me, at triple-speed, about her week. I listened enough, nodded when needed, and smiled when required.
“Can you get me another one, babes?” she said as she noticed the bottom of the glass was about to be reached. It wasn’t really a request, but I thought I would at least chance a rebuttal.
“I’m the non-drinker here. Why should I go to the bar?”
“Oh, babes. It’s been a horrible week; I can’t take talking to people anymore. I’ll burst. I just can’t.”
“So why are we here then? With all these people?”
“Babes. Just one more. Pleeeeease.”
I knew resistance was futile, logic wasn’t going to be a winner, but it had been worth a go. At least I had made the point that I was doing her a favour. I made a large gesture of reluctantly getting to my feet and walking to the front bar....
....“How d’you know Harvey, then?”
The voice came from my side. It was female and undeniably young. I turned to an almost angelic-looking face peering up at me over her shoulder from a barstool. Bright blue eyes. Long, dark, parted lashes. A freckled, button nose. Cheekbones that could cut paper. Golden locks tucked behind petite ears. I say almost angelic because the lips were bright red, and the smirk on her face said girl next door every day of the week.
“Er. Um, Rugby. I, er, coached him a while back.” I stuttered slightly under the scrutiny of those eyes - electric sapphires seeking out something in my face. I managed to stumble through. “Why do you ask?”
“I just saw you talking, that’s all.”
“Right, yes. Um. How do you know Harvey? Boyfriend?”
I don’t know why I asked that. In hindsight, it feels prying, but something in the air made it feel like a perfectly natural question. She didn’t seem to find it strange either.
“We were in school together. Went out once, but it didn’t last long. We’ve ended up at the same Uni though. Can’t get away from ’im.” She gave a slight laugh which appeared to emanate from no deeper than the very front of her lips. Standing there, I must have looked gormless....
...She’d been talking over her shoulder, but she turned then, properly facing me, and the movement drew my eye lower before I could stop it. Her white top - if you could officially call it a top - was barely there: a pale bustier, cut scandalously low, traced with fine black ribbing, little dark flowers scattered across the fabric as if growing across her chest. The white mesh beneath narrowed into her waist, held in by black seams that only exaggerated the shape they framed. But what truly arrested me was how her breasts threatened to spill out with every subtle shift, captivating in a way that made it impossible to look anywhere else. They were wholesome things of beauty. Of lust. The tanned domes bounced as she twisted before settling back into their dormant state, poised for the next action.
If you want to know what happens between Gary and Flossie while Charlie sits at the table nearby, subscribe to my 'shorts'.
