It was a beautiful spring day. I was on my lunch break from work after a hard morning in the office and I wanted to make the most of the sunshine. My white shirt glistened in the blazing heat as my tie flapped a little in the breeze. I walked slowly through town, taking in the sights and sounds of the busy city.
There was a big match on that day, our supporters were all gathered in the square, singing, waving their flags in celebration and anticipation as they sipped cold lager in the midday sunshine. It was a jovial atmosphere indeed, everybody was in high spirits and I wanted to get a taste of it, soak it in before getting back to the office.
You could hear the supporters songs from all round town as they sang, nobody could wait for the match that night. Interspersed amongst shoppers and sightseers and supporters was a splattering of the Spanish supporters who had arrived to give their support to the away side. They sang and danced playfully around the city centre, the majority gathered in the square opposite our fans, each sides set of supporters trying to out-do each other in friendly ambience.
The lads on either side of the square drank with their shirts tied round their waists, bare chested, waving flags and scarfs as they sang to each other and laughed merrily. They outnumbered the girls of course, but the woman still held a presence, singing in their skirts and shorts and football shirts. A group of girls amongst the Spanish fans caught my eye, each decked in bright white skirts that were illuminated by the blazing sunshine, dancing playfully over their tanned thighs as they danced and sang, smiling brightly as they enjoyed the day and the dance. Their songs grew louder as I walked through and approached to where our fans were gathered.
I walked through smiling as we exchanged mock insults over each others players and taunted each other playfully over what the score might be. As I sat amongst our fans, drink in hand, I watched the whole carnival climate, the sea of colour, the noise, the songs. My eyes were struck by those group of girls amongst the Spanish fans as they rambunctiously bounced along with the rhythm, their Mediterranean skin gleaming against their white dress.
The fans mingled with each other, swapping scarves and singing each others songs. I sat and soaked it all up, eyeing the Spanish girls as I sipped my lager. Suddenly the group of girls were by me, talking to each other in Spanish tongue as the local men tried to chat them up. Two of them sat either side of me at the table, smiling at each other and sniggering.
The girl to my left sat with straight legs, her white skirt resting above her tender, tanned knees, locked together, pointing towards me. I stared up and saw the outline of her slender young figure just visible under her tight white football shirt, her large breasts bulging underneath, her nipples visibly erect under the club crest. She smiled at me, beaming, and I lost myself momentarily in her big brown eyes as her dark hair fluttered in the breeze. I tried to remember the little Spanish I knew as I smiled nervously back.
"Hola" I smiled, "¿Como estas?" I said in a strained Spanish accent. She giggled as her friend laughed heartily.
