Bob Belcher Mustache Novels & Stories

I had to elbow my way to get close to bar top before resting my elbows on it, sighing. “Tom Tom,” I called out. “Four whiskies.” He looked at me, frowning. Poor kid looked haggard and busy. “Okay,” he said, hustling to get the drinks before more Rebels tried to get his attention. I stood there for a second and then felt something pinch my ass. I shot straight up, whirling around. “What the hell?” I asked. This guy was just standing there, grinning at me. He was missing a front tooth, and his beard was patchy and graying. “Girl, you was making it too tempting,” he said, “just sticking that round behind out there.”

Her lips naturally pink lips looked even more red and swollen because Bella was biting it hard. Jullius’ gaze turned cold. “Face the reality,” he said. His index finger stroked Bella’s cheek. So gentle. Had Jullius not revealed the truth, Bella might have enjoyed the tenderness this man offered. Moreover, this man looks even more charming with his serious expression. His symmetrical facial shape is sharp and defined. His almond-shaped eyes with those beautiful hazel irises, that intense expression, never left Arabella not stunned by the beauty. His nose is sharp and his lips are full. Even though he often smokes, his lips still look pink and moist. His mustache and beard remained neatly trim

A shiny patch of sweat blooms at his chest, staining the cheap satin. And his face?? Greasy, pockmarked skin. A moustache that looks like it was glued on during a blackout. Teeth like yellowed piano keys, and hair slicked back so hard it might actually be scared of his forehead. He stops in front of us, grinning wide. “Elena!” He exclaims in a nasal, high-pitched tone that doesn't match his bulky frame. “I'm Giacomo Morreti. But you, Bella, can call me Gio Gio.”

All of the people were still wearing their masks as they silently watched me. "Ahh, you must be Ivan's little girl." His voice was raspy, like someone who had smoked for a long time. His beard was grey and in need of a good trim. The top of his head was balding, and he held a relatively large belly. In other words, he was the image of total creep. The kind of weirdo you were warned to avoid as a child before heading to the park with your friends. I put on my best fake smile and prepared myself for one hell of a performance.