"There's just two more Coronas here and then a couple of dodgy Kronenbourgs" I shouted from the kitchen.
"Go on then, you guys have the Coronas, I'll take a Kronenbourg."
I took the bottles out of the fridge, opened them and took them to the lounge. I passed the Kronenbourg to Paul, one of the Coronas to Ricardo and the other one, I placed in the middle of the low table, where I was going to sit, right between the two on the sofa. I let myself fall down into my space and grabbed the bottle.
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
"Here's to England!"
"Here's to Czech Republic!"
"Oh, fuck off!"
Linneker was wearing a pale pink shirt and praising the stars on the English team, whilst carefully making absolutely clear that he was not actually expecting them to win, with Owen being injured and Cole being barred... Lame excuses. Of course England was going to lose - they would play disgracefully, as usual. I took a couple of sips from my beer, put it down on the table and placed my hands on the blokes' legs, one each side, and started slowly stroking the insides of their thighs. They relaxed, they were used to it, we spent a lot of evenings in this configuration in front of the TV. The game had started, but the players of both teams did not yet seem to have fully realised that. Paul unbottoned his trousers. I gently stroked across his cock once, giving him a broad smile, but then went back to stroking his thigh. Ricardo took my hand, squeezed it gently, and said
"I think you're the best thing ever to have happened to this household. You are absolutely lovely, girl, you know that?"
I smiled at him and grabbed my bottle. He had a tendency to say tacky things, but, given the fact that he actually meant them, they were perfectly loveable.
"I'll drink to that, boys!"
"Cheers."
"Cheers!"
We focussed our attention on the game, but I kept stroking with my hands up and down their thighs, just occasionally running my fingers, through the fabric, over the tips of their slowly hardening cocks.
How did all of this begin? It was on a party in mid June. The people were on average six years younger than me, but that did not bother me. On the contrary, I had not been with a man in months. There's nothing better than blokes in their early twenties if what you need is to get laid. I walked over to that guy, and he looked at me with expectation. He was very handsome, with intense and intelligent eyes and we had been exchanging looks since he had sat down at the other end of the room more than an hour ago. A couple of stupid blonds in miniskirts had tried their luck with him, but he had politely signalled them to go fuck themselves.
"Hello Maria."
He spoke with a slavic accent. Thinking about it, he also looked slavic. Tall, slender, pale, brown wavy hair, the eyes a little wider apart than usual, high cheek bones. He was beautiful.
"Do I know you?"
"I was one of your students last term. I did not expect to meet you here."
Damned.
"And who do you know here?"
"My friend Amy used to go out with the owner!"
"So you're not here with your boyfriend?"
Wow, he was full on. He had balls! I rose one of my eyebrows.
"Am I here with my boyfriend?"
Pause. Tease him, let him suffer...
"What do you mean, my boyfriend? I don't have a boyfriend!"
I grinned invitingly. 'It is too late anyway', my hormones told me, and 'The term's over already, what's the big deal?'
