7 Tales of Sex and Betrayal Read Online Free PDF Page A

of lines
around her eyes and the slackening of the flesh around her
jaw-line.
    In her twenties, she had paraded shamelessly
at countless parties, her slinky short dresses and skin-tight jeans
tempting eyes and libidos. She had been lovely, with deep blue eyes
and long honey-blonde hair. Lovers were treated capriciously, as
she juggled them to meet her needs. She recalled how she had
decided to hold out for something special. Did she have it? Was it
enough?
    Fifteen years later, her options had
narrowed. One professional husband, one adorable child and living
in a beautiful home in the suburbs – well, wasn’t that everyone’s
dream?
    As she pulled on her tights, she noticed the
broken veins on her legs. Her observation was noted by another
regular who commented, ‘Don’t worry about those small spider veins,
a beautician can give you treatment for that.’
    Is that what she needed? Treatment for her
veins? She doubted it. Her friend Fiona, had told her that wrinkles
and veins were the insignia of age, but she wasn’t sure of that
theory. Fiona, the eternally youthful, athletic, lithe, elegant and
supportive friend. Next to Fiona, she felt Amazonian. It had been
Fiona who suggested she join a health club to ‘tone up’.
    Most of the men at the club were attractive.
The one who looked like a Greek God was special. He had a powerful
build, broad shoulders, strong arms and a small bottom. His hair
was a dark curly mess. She told Fiona about him.
    ‘I think you fancy him Linda,’ Fiona had
replied.
    ‘He is the most divine man I’ve ever seen,
but I didn’t say I wanted to screw him,’ she retorted.
    Her irritation alarmed her. She told herself
she never thought about having an affair or even a fling, not
seriously. But was her body language giving out subliminal
messages?
    One day the Greek God flashed a wide smile
and greeted her. She admitted to herself that she was
flattered.
    As she watched her reflection perform a leg
curl, she noticed he was watching. Big strides brought him to her
side and she was aware of his body standing over her.
    ‘Hi. I’m Brett. I’ve seen you here a
lot.’
    As she nodded and smiled, she was aware he
was scrutinizing her.
    ‘You know, you’d get more out of that
exercise if you pressed the back of your knees into the bench.’
    There was no doubting his earnestness. The
wide mirrors reflected their images and she thought what a handsome
couple they appeared.
    She wondered what he would be like as a
lover. Although she thought it silly, she began to weave daydreams
around him. The Mrs. Robinson complex is how she humorously
described her reveries to Fiona.
    One day he waited for her in the foyer.
    `Look, I wondered if you had time for a
coffee?’
    He took her by the arm and steered her
across to the coffee shop. Sitting opposite her he talked quickly,
mostly about himself.
    `I’m in training, you know. It’s hard work
but what the hell – it’ll all be worth it in the end.’ He had
ordered a thick-shake, which he sucked on loudly.
    ‘I’ve noticed how far you’ve come along. It
takes a bit of effort but look at the results.’
    She felt herself colouring, feeling
strangely victorious in the face of his compliment.
    ‘Maybe I can help you work on your program –
get you some quicker results.’
    He seemed incapable of sitting still.
Massaging his arms and rotating his shoulders to loosen muscles, he
continued his non-stop talk.
    Her fantasies of the shy, sensitive,
intuitive man he might have been receded. She couldn’t help smiling
at her folly.
    He leaned across and looked her straight in
the eye.
    ‘I thought you might like some company now
and then. Know what I mean?’
    She returned his direct gaze. Standing up,
she moved across to him and put a hand on his powerful bicep.
    ‘Thanks. But I’m on a tight schedule. I have
to pick up the twins.’
    She laughed loudly as she walked across the
car park. His inoffensive comment implied his body was something
special,