I play in a football team,
soccer
for some of you guys. It’s loosely based around a local pub, although no more than half the players drink there regularly outside of match days. The team’s a good cross section of the area I live in. Young professionals, like me, along with a lot of blue collar boys, a policeman a couple of unemployed blokes. I think that’s why I like it, it makes you believe that Thatcher was wrong, that there is such a thing as society. It’s also pretty good Sunday morning exercise. I certainly don’t play for the glory: to say the team’s average would suggest that we win sometimes, and frankly this is rarely the case.
A couple of weeks back though, we had a new lad join us: Luke, he’s only 18, just become eligible in the league we play in. He’s a skinny little runt really, but boy can he move, and the ball looks like its glued to his feet. He far outclasses the rest of us, he’ll probably soon move to a better team, but the mood in the changing room after we won four nil was amazing. Normally everyone has a quick shower then we head off to the pub to drown our sorrows. That Sunday there were whoops and hollers, everyone horsing around, someone had produced a crate of Stella and the guys were all drinking, not in a hurry to leave and lose the moment.
Hannah often comes to watch me play, provided she’s not too hung-over from Saturday night. We’d had a quiet one the night before so she’d seen the whole match this time, about the only supporter on our side. I guess she was just bored of waiting on her own, but there may have been some deliberate mischief in it, it’s hard to know with Hannah. Anyway she walked into the changing room bold as brass and came right up to me and gave me a kiss.
Someone wolf-whistled, a couple of blokes who were naked hastily wrapped towels around themselves. Derek, a gym toned mixed-race guy was in the shower and carried on washing unbothered. To be honest when your body is as built and defined as his you probably aren’t concerned who sees it. When Hannah looked his way she let out a loud “Phwoorr!” and laughed. Derek laughed to, a little shyly almost. Then, perhaps to cover this with bravado, he shouted:
“Come on then, Darling. Let’s see what you’ve got”.
Some of the boys cheered. A brief chant of ‘Tits out for the lads’ went round, but I don’t think anyone seriously thought she would. As I guess you’re starting to realise though, Hannah is a pretty game girl. She unwound her scarf and let it drop to the floor with an extended arm, just like a stripper would. Then slipped off her coat and hung it on a peg. Someone started to sing “Da na na Na, Da na na Na…” the universal stripper tune which probably no one has ever really stripped to. Hannah did though, she stood up on a bench unzipped her little hoody and let that fall too, now wearing only a tight t-shirt on her top half. The singer continued, joined by others now, a few people clapping in time. Hannah started to wriggle her hips, giving a little dance as she eased the t-shirt up to show her svelte stomach, then a black wonderbra, then took it off entirely. There was a big cheer, and then a louder one as she reached around behind her to undo the bra. She unclipped it and let it drop in one movement. But the guys, who were all gathered watching by now, only got a brief glimpse of her perfect little tits before she raised her hands up to cover them. She was still dancing, and turned her back to us. Then, with her hands dropped, she span around again with breasts uncovered. There’s not an ounce of spare fat on Hannah, and even though her tits could be bigger, she’s really stunning. I felt totally proud, hearing all the guys cheering and whistling for my beautiful bird.
“And the rest,” some one said.
Hannah laughed. “It would cost you a hundred quid to see the rest,” she said.
She climbed down off the bench and went to retrieve her bra. She’d meant it just as a way of saying ‘that’s all you’re getting boys’. But she’d underestimated the mood of exuberance after our victory, and the strength of desire some of the team must have had to see her body. Before she’d even finished putting her bra on a whip round had produced a hundred pounds, which was placed on the bench next to her by Mike, a friend of mine who’s in advertising.
