Strange Taste - 3. Alyn

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Featured Review on this writing by AdamCarlton

He struck her as the silent type, vulnerable to her charms, pleasantly shy. She wanted him,.

There was no sign of the other twin. Janis was identical to Lindsey in every respect, apart from her hair which she had dyed deep cupric red. Alyn assumed she was upstairs, making love to her latest boyfriend. Either that, or she was in the kitchen. The tension gnawed at his stomach. He felt hungry. Clambering over the scattered human debris, he made his way to the scullery.

Alyn eased his way past the humps of entwined teenagers as far as the sturdy oak kitchen table. Half the table was taken up with Party Sevens, bottles of spirit, open lager cans, full foil ashtrays. The other half was allocated to the food: a decadent display of fatty cocktail sausages, pineapple-and-cheese on sticks, chicken vol-au-vents, sausage rolls, mini pork pies, salted peanuts and crisps. Famished, he grabbed a plate, and helped himself to a pile.

She was standing by the bar pouring herself a glass of ‘the real thing’, looking absolutely gorgeous in a plain white t-shirt and drainpipe jeans.

‘Hello,’ she cried, in a familiar accent, grinning at him, ‘Come here often?’

She was Australian. Alyn stopped eating. Didn’t know what to say. He gave her his bottle. She unscrewed the top, poured herself a large shot, mixed it with Coke, and drank a swig,

‘Ah, thanks! Needed that. Gets boring when you don’t know anyone, doesn’t it?’

He didn’t answer. She topped up her glass, found a clean dimpled beer mug, half-filled it with Malibu, and offered it to him,

‘Fancy a drink?’

His heart leaped in his chest thrilled by her voice, her round face, shoulder-length brown hair, and slim, petite, shapely figure. She was tipsy. He started to sweat. His hands were shaking. She made him feel nervous, apprehensive. His mouth was parched. Desperate for a drink, he took the glass from her and downed it in one.

He struck her as the silent type, vulnerable to her charms, pleasantly shy. She wanted him, badly, wanted to push her hand through his curly hair, stroke his smooth face, kiss his dry split lips, and feel his slim, toned body. He excited her. She needed to touch him,

‘Feeling lonely?’

The drink had gone to Alyn’s head, ‘Yes, very.’

‘My name’s Georgie,’ she said, cheerfully, ‘Shall we go outside and play in the garden?’


Submitted: December 29, 2020

© Copyright 2021 HJFURL. All rights reserved.

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Comments

AdamCarlton

I'm feeling echoes of John Fowles's extraordinary work, 'The Magus'... which similarly opens with a wild party and an Australian girl (Alison).

Tue, December 29th, 2020 8:45am

Author
Reply

Now my right eye is up to 60% I must look up that story - life is full of Australian girls like Alison... and Georgie!

Tue, December 29th, 2020 9:58am

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