Novel & Cerita Just Some Guy Without A Mustache

I checked the apartment number twice before knocking. The door opened fast. And there he was. GlazedDonut69. Real name: Marcus. Shorter than I expected. Curly brown hair. A little older than his profile picture. Shirtless. Wearing plaid pajama pants and holding a glass of wine in one hand. “River?” he asked, like maybe I was catfishing him. “Yeah,” I said, hands stuffed in my pockets. “Hey.” He smiled. “Come in. I don’t bite. Unless requested.”

“He sure looks like he’s having a hard time.” I put a frown on my face. “Having trouble managing a business?” “Yeah, because Sir Ryker seems to have forgotten about himself now. He didn’t have a mustache or beard before.” Danica spoke up. “I just noticed his facial hair; he’s more handsome when he has a clean-shaven face.”

“That is not a super powerful magician.” Even though the guy is wearing sunglasses in a dark club, I can feel his gaze when it lands on us. He takes the glasses off and puts them in the pocket of his shirt before he gestures to the woman away and approaches us. There’s a ruddy tan on his Caucasian skin that suggests a recent vacation, and his sun-touched brown hair is cut short and styled to look like he didn’t style it at all. My douche-o-meter can’t handle the overload and explodes. “Werewolves,” he says, looking us up and down. “In my club.”

Of course, it was his own side of the story, and I wonder what bozo will support a Funker like him. Standing this close to him made me see his features well. If I didn't know him and saw him outside, I would mistake him for a respectable foreigner, but glad I don't judge by looks. Jet black hair with a brown bear plaited with beads attached to it, and a little mustache, goes perfect for a monster. Trying not to snicker, I jerked my face away from his grip. I yanked the metal on my wrist, the noise filling the room.

With white hair he likes! Trying to catch up with the sentence structured in my head, I move my fingers swiftly and type them out. >HotGuy InTheBed: I am a hot guy. >HotGuy InTheBed: I have white hair, and I am not wearing any pants. >HotGuy InTheBed: In fact, as you should know, I don’t like to wear pants. White hair guy with no pants? What are you? Are you a- >HotGuy InTheBed: People call me real life Donald Duck.

A smile escaped my lips, and I thanked these people in my thoughts. I returned my gaze to Justine, who was wearing in loose, sloppy, old faded jeans and a tattered sleeveless top. His hair was unkempt, and his face was unshaven, yet despite his beard, he still looks attractive. I'll give him that. His beard definitely adds to his hotness and sexiness. Furthermore, he appears to be completely comfortable with those firearms. He is undoubtedly the real definition of the word 'sigma.' Justine chuckled. “Yeah, he absolutely is,” he says picking salmon out of a can with his fingers.

Their body was also painted like their tits were incircled, their belly button has a mustache and many other more. "I wish I had worked out" Jason grumbled and looked down at his round stomach. "Me too" Ryder added looking at his too. And that's the result of always pigging out. I tsked and shook my head. "Wait, how come I have the monkey?" Diego complains looking down at the smiling monkey that is stapled on his crotch area. I just laughed at them. "Why are you even here, Ken?" Jason asks. "To watch the show" I shrugged.

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.”

Some people are outside drinking or smoking, but it's way quieter than it was inside. I place my beer next to me. "You know I'd never gotten ghosted before." He starts smiling. "That when you'd done it I didn't even realize it at first." I'm not surprised he hasn't ever been ghosted he's a good looking guy, his skin tone like latte, curly short hair, handsome face, has his life together. "Tell me something Yasmine." He ask with a straight face, leaning into me. "Did you ghost me because I had bad breath?"

Men fall over themselves for her as much as they do to Stace. Justin plays a little diddy on the piano and synthesiser; he looks like a rough biker, long unkempt hair tied up into a top knot and a long shaggy beard; he is all muscle and tatts and loves to show them off. I don’t think Justin owns a t-shirt or even a shirt, for that matter. If he could play nude, he would. He does during rehearsal, and I’m not complaining.