A Short Story - The Philandering Bastard

The impressive car, is curiously, unimpressively position at an inconspicuous bend of the building. Immediately, out pops a man. His appearance is not visible – for he is stealthy cloaked in a ghastly garment and big pork-pie hat ; complete with a big bee shape shades. Displaying nervy fidgety movements, the mystery man quickly darts into the building.

The interior main lobby is quiet, except for the soft background Clayderman piece. The perplexing character scuttle towards the scraggy superintendent manning the lounge. With a sudden impromptu stop, the curious character lowered his shades – just enough for the superintendent to catch a quick glimpse of his eyes. A short cryptic nod ensued, followed by a corresponding snort in return. The character scoots off into the darkness of the corridor.

In one of the many rooms of the guest house, the strange chap has made himself comfortable. Within the dark confines of the chamber suite, he begin to slowly disrobe his clothes ; all one by one, in a titillating, almost gyrating, manner. First goes his ghastly garment, then the pork pie hat, dress shirt, trousers, singlet and rainbow colored briefs. As a concluding end to his self-show display, he proudly stands himself fronting the imposing side mirror. Out reflects back his image. It shows an almost naked rounded old git. Almost naked, apart from his big bee shape shades, still perched on the upper portion of his craggy pork-marked face ; and his black socks still un-sensibly un-removed.

And in an almost impromptu manner, the man curiously attempts a jig. But the reflecting image sight of the jiggling skin immediately made him halt his dance.

Suddenly, a secret knock is heard. The old sexy git opens the door. In comes a young lass. Scantily dressed, she is lean and slender ; a vast contrast to the repulsive decaying physique. A trashy smile was offered to each other, followed by the same cryptic nod. And instinctively, the young lass struts to the washroom.

As the sploshing sound of dripping shower fills the room, a sudden corresponding sense of fervent remorse fills the old git. He has already anticipated the sordid act to ensue after this – an act of unmentionable filth and dirt about to be seedily undertaken by him. Yes, he knows he is a shameful, despicable woose ; so weak to his vexatious incarnate needs. He has, so many times before, tried to courageously adhere to his rational willpower ; but so many times again, he failed miserably.

“No”, he says. “Not this time. I will not degenerate to such niggardly character. I am strong, and I will do as I decide.” As the now reformed man stands up, the now naked female emerge from the toilet door. The old git’s lips curled uncontrollably. A lecherous Cheshire smile is seen curved from the mouth of the philandering bastard. He knows he is beaten once again to the carnal order of nature.