Friday, January 14, 2011

Majorca Flats -- 45


He was muscular, with a slim waist, broad shoulders and rugby-player thighs. His eyes were a startling grey-blue and his chestnut shoulder-length hair thick and curly. He had the knack of half-closing his eyes when he wanted something which made them glimmer seductively. You never got the feeling with him that he was deliberately charming you, at least not when you were with him, because it all seemed so genuine. Afterwards, you'd ruefully think back on how once again you'd been conned and he'd got what he wanted. While you were with him, he made you believe that you were the only person in the world who mattered. Even though you suspected that he forgot about you as soon as you'd left his presence, it never seemed to matter.
That first night at the bar, Luigi just smiled at Cody. He made no move to respond to Cody's advances, but he didn't repulse them either. He didn't shrug off the arms over his shoulders, and he smiled enough to let Cody know he wasn't put off. But he was too scared to respond to Cody's overtures by touching Cody in return.
At the end of the evening Cody had given him one of the charm-filled smiles he specialised in, and asked, “Do you come here often, mate?”
Greatly daring, Luigi had replied, “Only in the mating season. With the right person. .”
Cody gave a shout of laughter and then, his eyes sparkling, he'd pushed his fist gently against Luigi's forehead, and said, “See you here tomorrow, friend.”




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