Review of Australian Fiction, Volume 1, Issue 3 by David Foster

Author:David Foster
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Review of Australian Fiction
Published: 2012-02-07T05:00:00+00:00

The Younger Man

Zoë Foster

Abby washed her hands and peered at her naked body in the mirror as she dried them on a technicolour Missoni hand towel. It was a gift, but an expensive one as she had then felt compelled to buy a whole set of Missoni towels to match.

Her face was flushed, her skin damp with a light sweat. Even with the flattering light of a summer morning bouncing softly off the walls she looked like Twitchy the Tramp: her eyeliner had escaped her lashline and was cavorting around what would eventuate into magnificent bags under her eyes, her thick brows, usually groomed perfectly into position, were unruly and dishevelled, her eyes were red and glazed, and her pixie-short honey-blonde hair danced wildly around her head.

She felt roughly as terrific as she looked. Her breath was poisonous with the scent of alcohol; her mouth dry from salt-rimmed glasses and smoking the cigarettes she vocally abhorred in Real Life. Her head pounded quietly; warming up for the rousing drum solo it planned to unleash the moment she thought she had a handle on her hangover.

But Abby did not give a shit about any of this. She had just had heart-pounding, passionate, uninhabited sex with a beautiful man ten years her junior, and she felt fucking fantastic.

Even in her glorious post-coital glow, she was bound by a bathroom habit she’d been doing since she was 17. She twisted 180 degrees to check on her (minor, invisible to most) cellulite, wondering if by some stroke of incredible luck and/or magic, it had fallen off during that final, excessively athletic romp, and she now had the pert arse of an 18-year-old. She did not. It was definitely the arse of a 33-year-old, and while it was fine, almost good, in jeans and passable in a very low-slung bikini bottom and a thick layer of self-tan, it was not an arse that should be paraded around an extremely good-looking young man in the harsh and unforgiving light of morning. Why the fuck she’d chosen to make the master bedroom the one with the skylight, she didn’t know. Spectacularly bad for self-image.

It didn’t really matter though, because as usual, her new male friend would be leaving. Abby had a no-sleep-over rule. Didn’t matter if he held Future Husband potential or was a no-strings rascal like the one currently sprawled on top of her crumpled sheets. Didn’t even matter if he was the best lover she’d ever had, and she blushed as she realised this one just may have been. And it wasn’t just because she’d had a bit of a drought lately. He was incredible. So intuitive, so generous, so… skilled.

She fanned her face and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her body before walking quietly back into her hot, sweaty room. The dark floorboards creaked noisily under her feet and her breath seemed louder than usual, everything seemed exaggerated, partly because of the hangover and partly because there was a handsome stranger in her bed she had the task of kicking out.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.