Across much of this planet, the World Cup of soccer - or futbol - is a major event. Every four years, countries around the globe celebrate the sport by sending a national team to participate in a month long tournament. Though the United States sends a team, soccer here has yet to attain the popularity it has nearly everywhere else. That being the case, it was merely a happy coincidence that Billy's visit to Los Angeles - and his cousin Lena - took place during the semi-finals of the 2014 World Cup being held in Brazil.
Never a big soccer fan, he - being of German descent - became mildly interested in rooting for Germany after the US was eliminated in an exciting Round of 16 match. His cousin - adopted cousin, he reminded himself - was partially of Brazilian descent. A proud supporter, she'd been posting regular updates regarding the Brazilian team on her FaceSpace page.
Billy and Lena were now in their 40s, and neither had ever married. There'd been a palpable sexual tension between them since they were teenagers. Sadly, they hadn't seen each other very often, and when they did they were always surrounded by family members. This business trip would give them the opportunity - for the first time in their adult lives - to be alone with one another.
His work concluded, Billy invited Lena to dinner Saturday night. They sat at a patio table of a small bistro near the large apartment she shared with two of her girlfriends. They spent nearly two hours eating; talking; catching up on family gossip; inquiring about long lost relatives, and fighting the obvious attraction they felt toward each other. Leaving the restaurant, Billy walked her home. Along the way, Lena mentioned the Germany-Brazil match scheduled for Monday afternoon. Billy assured her Germany would win. She disagreed, vehemently, and suggested they watch the game together, so she could rub it in when her team defeated his.
As they stood at her door, he leaned in and kissed her lips. Stunned at first, she did nothing. He slipped his right hand around her waist. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she began returning his kiss. For a few fleeting moments, lips parted and tongues met. Suddenly, she broke the kiss, and took a step back.
"No," she said. "We can't."
"Can't what?" he asked, innocently. "Kiss?"
"Kiss like that," she said.
"You didn't like it?" he pressed.
"Yes, of course I did," she allowed.
"Then why not?" he asked.
"You know why, Billy," she said.
Recognizing the attraction between them, he didn't let her off the hook.
"You want me, and I want you," he said, stating the obvious.
"We're cousins," she objected.
"Not by blood," he said.
"So, that makes it OK?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, simply.
Separated by the doorframe, they spoke for several more minutes before Billy left - stealing a kiss on the cheek before he did so. As he left the building, he made two phone calls, changing his travel plans from Sunday to Tuesday so he could watch the game with Lena.
Monday afternoon, Billy arrived only 10 minutes before the match began. He brought chicken wings, chips, and soda. Lena kissed him on the cheek. As she led him into the living room, his eyes traced over her body. A dancer, her athletic, 5'10" frame was firm. Her dark-olive skin had a light sheen to it, as if she'd just rubbed in moisturizer, and her mid-back length, dark-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore loose, cut-off denim shorts, a skin-tight green and yellow Brazil t-shirt, and socks matching her shirt. He wore a black and red Germany t-shirt - one he'd spent a good portion of his Sunday tracking down - blue jeans, and white sneakers. After taking a seat on the couch, he slipped off his shoes, and then popped opened a can of Coca-Cola.
During the pre-game broadcast, they traded several insults regarding the other's choice of team. That's when Billy decided to take a gamble. He suggested they make a wager on the match. She hesitated.
"You must not be very confident in your team," he goaded.
"I am," she said. "I just don't have any money."
"We won't bet money," he said.
"What do you mean?" she asked, warily. "What's the bet?
"If Germany wins," he said. "You give me a blowjob."
She stared at him - shocked by his brazen proposal.
"If Brazil wins, I go down on you," he finished.
Lena shook her head, recovering quickly, figuring he must be joking.
"You win either way," she said.
"Well, so do you," he said.
"No way," she said, firmly.
"What would you suggest?" he asked.
"When Brazil wins, you strip naked, and run around the apartment building," she said, laughing.
She wasn't being serious.
"Inside or outside?" he asked.
"Outside," she said, then realized he wasn't kidding.
"OK," he agreed.
"Wait, I was just fooling around," she said.
"I'm not," he said, looking into her eyes.
"You're crazy, Billy," she objected.
"That's been pretty evident for a long time," he said, soberly.
"But, Brazil's two best players are out," she said. "One is hurt, the other is suspended."
"How about if I spot you one goal?" he said.
She fell silent for a few minutes, munching on a chicken wing as a delaying tactic. Just before the game began, she accepted the wager. Billy decided to push his luck. He offered a side bet: for each goal scored by the opposing team, the "loser" must remove an item of clothing. She refused, immediately. He tried to persuade her, reminding her that soccer matches often ended in scores of 1-0, or 2-1, and she already held a one goal advantage. She considered this for a moment, then agreed. She told him she'd be back, and stood up.
