I've always wanted to be a badass, a successful
badass. Failing that, and I have been for about half a life time, I've always
wanted to pretend to be someone is. Part of that always required an audience
that believed though.
The girl sitting next to me, no, the woman,
was French and twenty-something. Say what you will about the older man, younger
woman taboo, but here's a truth about it the media doesn't consider. When
you're basing a relationship on lies, it's the best way to go. If she was older
I never could have gotten away with it. The life story I told was two parts
Heff, one part King, one part Lemmy, and a dash of Connery. A woman my age
would have seen through some of all of it.
She wasn't.
I watched my worldly stories take her
breath away. I saw the interesting things that did to her chest. Yeah, at first
it was just physical. No, at first it was the badass thing. Second it was just
physical. I don't want you to think I'm a predator, but that second part, the
one where I noticed her body... Well, I don't know if I need to thank the king
of porn or the sexiest Brit ever, but Frenchy and I ended up taking a trip to
the bathroom.
Nearing fifty and joining the mile high
club. It was hot. It didn't last long. I'm fifty-five percent sure she wasn't faking
how much she liked.
Third came her talking. Telling me wild
stories. Tales like my own youth, except brought forward. Propelled to a time
when girls were free and morals were looser. I started falling in love. The
looks she gave me... Well, I knew she could get past the age thing. I wondered
if she could get over the lies. Then I wondered if I could keep them up forever.
I mean, hell I had a little more than
thirty years left, if I met the average. Looking her over, thinking of a decade
of wild sex with her I was betting I would be lucky to make twenty more if I
got involved with her. Especially if her stories were true and her wild days
were still going. Probably less, young girls suck life and money out of old
men.
Everyone that chases the young ones
knows that.
I decided I could keep up the lie, just
as I felt a sting at the side of my neck. I slumped towards her, wondering how
she smuggled so much liquid on board, as she slid the needle back into her
purse. Her wicked smile curved her lips as she whispered to me.
"The men you pretend to be were all
heroes of my father. If you were younger you might have recognized the women I
chose for my persona. Every one of them would be proud of me, removing another
pervert from the gene-pool. Sleep the sleep of damned, predator."
I swear she giggled as everything went
black.
#shortstory #author #Awethors #commentary #France #writer #writing
