How is it that a short ageing man, his black t-shirt bulging over his far too tight belt,
his sparse hair limply falling over his face, his bristly cheeks undisguised,
can engage the attention of a 21st century Aphrodite.
Tall and oh so slim, extravagant streaked hair casually held in place with an unseen clip behind her head revealing the the face of a goddess, exquisite neck and shoulders smooth and creamy as alabaster, breasts hidded discreetly under a ribbed and scooped white top, her long body and legs underneath a floral skirt that swished alluringly as she walked between the tables in her soft grey leather boots.
Across the room an older woman, her greying hair cut short to disguise its texture, her large breasts covered by a cleverly draped black cardigan, was talking earnestly to a modern Adonis.
He was not tall, but perfectly formed with skin that if she were to touch it would feel like the soft skin of her grandson. His dark eyes under darker eyebrows creased above a shortened Grecian nose, his wet black hair carelessly caressed as he spoke. His red shirt was starting to open in her presence and if she dared to look down she would have noticed the bulge in his, oh so tight, denim leggins.
He saw the older and the younger woman in her face. He saw her straight fair hair reaching all the way to her waist, the curve of her perfect breasts and her strong body standing firmly on shaped legs. He saw her desire and her joy dancing with his energy as she talked with him. He wondered if she could ever believe in their coupling unmarred by stereotype and expectation……
He looked across the room at the pearly Aphrodite and smiled at her.
She smiled back as she gave the ageing Adonis his bill.
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