Bob Belcher Mustache Novels & Stories

He smiled as he watched me eye the jar of candy. There was just something about his demeanor that made him look carefree and dangerous at the same time. A light pink scar, ran all the way from his right cheekbone to his lips. His beards were properly shaved, only leaving a mustache. Don't get me started on his stature; dude's built like a freaking mountain. Even much bigger than the Alpha supreme himself...um.. Benson? Don't get me wrong, Benson is actually really hot. The blond hair, blue eyes, abs and all the cliche shit like that. He's really tall too, makes him stand out like an Alpha...I guess.

Callahan gestured to the box chair opposite his. Bash was was hesitant because the seats were rather too close to each other but neither the less he sat. He felt greatly uncomfortable because of what he was wearing, he didn't think the meeting was in Callahan's room. He had a see-through white polo on with black ripped jeans, he was not on the muscular side but his nipples could be seen from the shirt. "And hey, call me Callahan or Callay for short, "Callahan told, again with that creepy smile the got Bash cringing.

Janice's reply shocked me to the bone marrow, so I looked at him to be sure I heard her correctly. "Concert? Stylist?" I asked and turned to look at the man who looked like he was in his late twenties. From his appearance, he looked like he would be the same age as Chase. He had blonde hair, and long eyelashes which I mistook to be artificial at first but realized later that it wasn't. Thick eyebrows, a pointed nose, and cat-like eyes which I was sure he must be wearing lenses. Wait! He was fucking wearing lipgloss. Pink fucking lipgloss at that. Now that I took my time to check him out, he looked feminine and I was even more disgusted when I saw his painted nails.

Bob told her as she neatened the comforter from its creases. She frowned and glanced over at him; he looked a lot like his father. His hair was silvery and sleek; it reached around his shoulders, and he had it neatly tucked around his ear. It showed off his narrow features; he had a scruffy face, which was unlike Marlon who kept his face neatly shaved. It gave Bob a masculine look. His eyes were pools of blue with dark lashes. She could tell that the ladies around town probably fell head over heels for him whenever he walked by. But Kamala wasn’t one to be flattered by good looks.

he asked and I nodded this time, I moved my gaze to him, and it was then I noticed he looked pale and his face was covered with beard, alpha Bellini was not the type that loves hairs, he likes to keep his face clean from hair, he was always neatly shaved but his appearance scared me, just maybe he is going through something. “is everything alright with you?” I asked him and he smirked, something he hardly did, although it was easy to laugh in front of me, I was used to his chuckling and the sound it made if it was genuine but the sound, I heard now was nothing close to genuine, it was clouded with concealed pain.

The next day... Bob stood in front of a club in a rumpled business suit. He'd removed a few buttons of his shirt, and loosened his slanted print checkered tie, making him seem like an alcoholic employee in search for where to get their heads off after a long day at work. He wore an unkempt brown wig that covered the upper part of his face and placed rough brown fake beards around his chin and mouth to match. As he approached the club, Bob laid eyes on several men and women with their gazes focused on either their drinks or searching through the crowd that streamed into the club as they leaned on the walls, hanging around.

I whispered through my teeth, squeezing his hand in my fist. "Chill babe, I've got this" he shushed me. We approached the counter, my eyes glared at the mid-aged bald man, accessing him. He was fair in complexion, approximately six feet tall with big belly protruding on the counter. He wore a grey moustache, matching his grey scanty hair at both sides of his head. He quickly picked up his black baseball cap on the counter and fixed it on his head, flaunting the little hair he had, out of the cap.

My mother and father, as well as my two elder brothers, reside here. While out doing some errands one day, I saw Boris strolling by the front door. A peculiar Mohican hairstyle with eyebrows shaped like a scythe. His cheekbones were shaped like half domes, and he had a Roman nose set on top of his strong jaw. The shoulder-baring style of his wrestling outfit contributed to the overall impression of his ripped physique. In point of fact, they were Saturns. His outspoken personality and loud baritone voice contributed significantly to the formation of his forceful demeanor. He was attractive to look at and had an alluring aroma.

He looked up at me and fixed the reading glasses on his nose. He was in his late fifties. Anya was their miracle daughter, and luckily, she was born healthy. Mr. Bello looked decent and had that mature aura around him. The thing that stood out the most was his genuine, warm smile. I could only imagine the countless girls who swooned over him in his younger days. Mrs. Bello had told me that her husband used to be one of the most popular guys in high school. And that was still evident despite the wrinkles that lined his face now. He had an elegant posture, and he looked so much like a gentleman.

I said, a smile pulling at my mouth. Even as my inner bitch cringed, she shook her hair back and gave a little finger wave. The lead guy, his bald head shiny under the light, laughed. This guy had all of his teeth. The crop of closely trimmed salt and pepper hair outlined his mouth. Old tattoos looked like bleeding green snakes around his neck. "The suka has fire." His lean, beef jerky body, shook under his laughter. Baldy apparently had at least a passing sense of humor.