Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Home Match

   "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?'

   His name was Stepan and he was Czech.  It turned out he was inspiring,
enchanting, charming and quite obviously really fancied me.  An hour of
chatting and a beer later, our faces were close, we looked deep into each
others eyes and touched each other occasionally, as we told each other the
things we like, the things that bother us, the things that had shaped us in
our past.  My eyes were shining, my cheeks were burning and I was
completely infatuated with my former student.  I had come here to pull,
arrogantly assuming that plain sex was all these young blokes could be good
for.  I considered revising my judgement.  Yet another half hour - and
another beer - later, we went outside into the back garden, to seek
privacy. We kuddled up, held hands and soon started kissing.  I barely knew
him, but he made me feel more intense than any other man I had met since I
first came to England.  He was fantastic.  He held me, stroked my back, and
we kissed, sometimes tenderly, sometimes passionately.  They were long
kisses, and they tasted a bit like onion, but mainly they tasted like
saliva that's not your own.  His hands crawled up my chest searching for my
breasts.  Intensely kissing me, he fondled them, worked them, and I let out
a little whimmer of pleasure.  I felt his breath, his warmth, the broadth
of his shoulders.  I wanted him really badly, his hands left burning traces
on my body, I inhaled deeply to memorise his smell and the smell of this
moment, I was overwhelmed by him.  He was only 21!  His hands sneaked under
my top, sought contact with my skin, while mine wandered down his chest
into his lap to acquaint themselves with his cock.  He moaned.  It all felt
so natural and so good.  He pulled my top up and my bra down, so the
evening breeze could blow over my now exposed breasts.  He bent over to
kiss my nipples that were sticking out into the moonlight, took them
between his teeth and gently chewed on them.  I melted with lust, my hand
on the bulge in his jeans.  From the periphery, I saw faces peeping out
from the inside, watching me massage his cock, watching him kiss my naked
breasts, but I did not care.

   Another half hour later, I found myself inside again, my hair slightly
messy, but fully dressed and on my own.  Stepan had gone home, because his
flight for Greece, where he would spend the next four months, would leave
early in the morning.  He had taken my number and had promised to call,
assuring he could not wait to see me again.  He had held me tight and had
looked at me, with a delighted smile.  I could see myself through his eyes,
and I saw the most divine and admirable creature in the world.  I knew he
meant it at the time.  But I also knew that he was 21 years old.  So after
he had left, I felt disappointment and desillusion creep up on me, staying
behind, and I figured that, in this state of mind, socialising was the
better option than going home alone to a cold bed.  So I joined a table of
four.  I had the choice between whiskey with apple juice and just whiskey,
so I went for just whiskey, even though I was quite drunk already at the
time.  One of the blokes at the table was quite attractive, he was also
tall, slender and dark, but in a different way.  Maybe more Italian
looking, even though he spoke with an American accent.  He seemed a couple
of years older than Stepan, but clearly less mature and self secure in
character.  I poured myself another glass of whiskey.  They were in a good
mood, teasing each other, and every time that handsome Italo-American made
a witty comment, he glanced over at me for my approval.  He had been giving
me the eye all evening, but I had dismissed him in favour of Stepan.  He
seemed to either not realise or not care.  I emptied my second glass of
whiskey and opened the bottle to pour a third.  I thought about Stepan
being woken up by his alarm at 4 am, imagined him get on the bus to
Gatwick, tired, but not tired enough to not check out the pretty blond
hippie girl with the big backpack who was getting on as well.  She
registered his look and took her seat right next to him, so they could pass
the otherwise boring busride joking and flirting...  I watched the
American. He was clearly very good looking, and, despite his boyish, almost
puppy-like gestures, there was something quite manly and appealing about
his movements.  Had I not earlier...

   I thought about those voyeuristic faces at the window.  Me making out
with Stepan must have been the prime party gossip, even though people were
way to English to make me realise; what was on my mind now was not actually
thinkable.  A clear and simple choice emerged: I could screw both my good
reputation and that pretty American, or I could screw nothing at all and
walk home alone - now.  I smiled, koyly, but unambiguously, at Mr. 
America. The whiskey had clearly taken over the better part of me, it was
plain social suicide.  He looked a little startled.  I winked, a little too
fast, it could well have been a nervous twitch.  I think what was left of
my good education tried to intervene.  The encouragement put an expression
of bliss on his boyish face, as if I had just granted him an increase in
pocket money.  Oh dear.

   When I came back from the toilet, I walked straight up to him, put my
hand on his shoulder, stood there for a couple of seconds and then sat down
on his lap.  He was surprised at first, but quickly regained his concert.
He slowly placed his hand on my knee, stroking my thigh just with his
thumb, careful not to make any mistake.  Damn, he was cute!  He never got
distracted from their jokey conversation, which he was dominating, it was
more the others who had difficulties hiding their surprise, even if they
said nothing.  Soon, his hand became a bit more ventourous and disappeared
under my skirt to stroke my thigh.  I did not say a word, I just sipped my
pure cheap whiskey, and my pussy got wet and wetter.  He laughed at
someone's comment about his lack of skill playing basketball, when he
reached around me with his other hand to rest it on my hip, lightly padding
it.  I put my arm around him and started gently scratching his neck. 
Minutes passed like this, my arm around his neck, one of his arms resting
on my hip, the other one under my skirt petting the insides of my now
parted legs.  He turned around to face me, for the first time since I had
launched my crude attack on him.  He abandoned their conversation and
looked me in the eyes.  He seemed to hesitate, but then I felt his hand go
all the way up my thigh to my soaked knickers, grab my pussy and squeeze it
several times, and then let go again.  I closed my eyes and gasped for air
as it happened.

   My skirt had gone three quarters up my thigh through this manoeuvre, and
it must have been rather clear to the others where his hand had disappeared
to.  The only girl at the table gave me a disgusted look before she and her
boyfriend made their disappearance.  Almost everybody had left by now.  I
was pissed as hell and randy as a mare in heat...  I leaned forward a bit
to allow Mr.  America a glimpse down my low cut top.  He followed the
invitation and bent his head to first look and then kiss that part of my
breast that the low cut top revealed.  The others stared at the scene.  His
hand in my skirt moved my knickers out of the way to insert one of his
fingers into my hot pussy.  Shifting his attention to the discussion again,
commenting on the new immigration laws, he started twirling his finger
inside me and then started finger-fucking me.  I groaned, but even if I
hadn't, the sounds of his finger moving in and out of my soaking wet pussy
could not have been overheard.  It seemed almost bizarre that the
conversation would keep going as if nothing had happened, while I was
clearly approaching climax on Mr.  America's lap.  I knew everybody knew I
was being finger-fucked.  I assumed everybody knew about Stepan, too, and
it all added to my excitement.  I leaned over to kiss my pleasurers neck,
and then his lips.  We kissed gently, our mouths met and I sucked on his
lip, before I opened my mouth just a little bit more, to give entry to his
dancing tongue.  He was a very sensual kisser, and his finger felt very
good inside me.

   It took me a while to realise that those hands holding my bum could
hardly be his.  I backed off our kiss and looked up in surprise.  Mr. 
America pulled his finger out of my cunt.

   "What's wrong?"

   He was puzzled about the disruption, but quickly realised what it was
about.  That incredibly middle class, but still perfectly nice English
bloke, Jamie, was kneeling behind me, caressing my buttocks.  He did not
stop his activity when we interrupted our kiss.  He must have seen me out
there with Stepan and, seeing me now with Mr.  America, had concluded that
I am probably up for pretty much everything.  I looked around the room, the
only people left were two blokes on the sofa, watching us from the
distance, both with clearly visible bulges in their trousers, and the third
bloke, an Asian, sitting at our table, who had his eyes firmly fixed at how
Jamie's hands fondled my butt.  Everyone except the Asian bloke and Jamie,
who were focussed on my ass, looked at me questioningly.  I swallowed.  I
suddenly felt extremely sober, yet hot as a steam engine.  A part of me was
outraged about this posh school boy, who did not even know me, but took the
liberty to touch rather private parts of my body.  But I could not help my
violent heart beat that his boldness caused me.  I had always phantasised
about having sex with several men, but had never expected this phantasy to
come true, ever.  What if this was my one chance?

   I raised my hand, touched Mr.  America's face, and let my hand slide
down his chest, and onto the buckle of his belt, which I slowly opened.  I
leaned forward for another one of his sensual kisses thereby sticking my
bum out, further opening it to Jamie's explorations.  He took the
opportunity to pull up my skirt up to my waist, so it was only my knickers
that were between him and my round inviting ass, sticking out at him, he
pulled them down slowly, and ran his finger across my crack.  The Asian
bloke had gotton up and was now standing behind me, and reached out to
touch my breast.  God, this was getting hot!  The Asian took hold of my top
and I raised my arms to assist him undress me, he pulled my top up and over
my head.  As I lowered my arms, he opened my bra, and it slid down my arms,
leaving my chest naked.  I heard one of the guys on the sofa get up and
come closer to join in.  The Asian guy stood behind me and massaged my
neck, his hands glid over my round shoulders and then down my front over my
small breasts, my belly, and back up to my breasts, where they remained,
squeezing and massaging them.  Jamie's hands wandered from my backside to
the front, petting my patch of pubic hair, and then diving down my wet
hairy crotch, stimulating my clit.  Mr.  America, on the other hand now
reached around from the front to clasp hold of my bum.  Hands were
everywhere.  It was so nice, better than I had ever imagined it.

   They picked me up, someone unzipped my skirt, it fell down, and then
pulled down my knickers completely.  and I kicked off my sandals.  Naked as
I was, they lay me down on the lounge table, I stretched, arched my back to
raise my rock hard nipples into the sky, closed my eyes and spread my long
legs, to welcome anonymous hands on my thight, between them, on my belly,
on my chest, everywhere.  I heard trousers dropping down, and when I opened
my eyes Mr.  America was looking at me, he was breathing heavily, one hand
on my forehead, the other one cupping and squeezing one of my breasts, his
erection was just centimetres away from my face.  He was average size and
he was circumcised, as most Americans are.  I reached out to touch it,
stroked its tip, while someone fingered my pussy, and, when he stepped even
closer, I bend my neck to kiss the tip of his cock with my lips.  I ran my
tongue across it, tasted his pre-cum, and then closed my mouth around it.
He moaned loudly.

   "Chaps, here's a box of condoms, you'll never know what kind of shit
you'll catch from one like that."

   That was Jamie.  'One like that', I was offended, but, at the same time,
I was glad that it was not me who had to interrupt the flow of our bodies
to remind them all of the annoying but necessary layer of latex.  Jamie
took my ankles and pulled me to the edge of the table where he was
standing, and, without further ado, thrust his cock inside me and started
fucking me.  I did not like him, but, damn, he fucked me good.  He was
average width, but rather long and he thrust it in in a steady rhythm that
made me moan with pleasure.  The Asian bloke had something different on his
mind.  He climbed on top of me and started moving his hips, so his dark and
short cock slid across my pale naked chest, across my small breasts with
their pink nipples.  He then squeezed my breasts together around his cock
to generate a tube, and went on fucking my tits.  I looked around and saw
the fifth bloke stand at a distance, he had taken his large cock out and
masturbated, watching us.  Mr.  America still stood close to my head and I
reached for his cock to stimulate it with my hand.  The guy from the sofa
stood right next to him, and I turned my head sideways to take his cock
into my mouth and suck it.  I came like this, with a cock inside my mouth,
one in my hand and another one between my tits, but the one that had made
me come was the fourth one, Jamie's, that slid in and out my pussy, ever
faster and deeper, even after my contractions around it had marked my
orgasm, until, finally, Jamie drove it in deeply one more time and
climaxed, crying out, inside me as well.  The Asian bloke could not hold
back anymore either and spurt his cum across my chest and my neck.

   When he climbed down, the bloke from the sofa pulled his cock out of my
mouth, flipped me over and, without giving me a break, started fucking me
from behind.  It was a bit much, but at the same time it turned me on, it
was the realisation of my ultimate phantasy, all these men disposing of my
body, finding satisfaction in my various bodily openings.  Jamie walked up
to the head end of the table, took off his rubber and told me to lick it
clean, which I did.  Sofa-guy was fucking me hard and fast, I knew he
wouldn't last very long.  I heard the fifth guy, the one who watched from
the far, emit a long moan, probably he had culminated, too.  Jamie seemed
to be hardening again, and I sucked him off with dedication, to aid his
recovery with my lips and tongue, while sofa-guy was hammering me.  He came
inside me shortly after with a grunt, pulled out, removed his condom and
said

   "Fuck, that was good."

   before he took his bag and left.  The Asian bloke seemed to have
disappeared already.  I looked around.  Only Mr.  America was still
standing around with a hard-on, everybody else had been served and had
buggered off.  Suddenly, I did not feel aroused anymore.  Instead, I felt
used, unappreciated and naked.  There's female psychology for you.  I was
cold.

   "Keep sucking it, girl."

   Jamie demanded.  I looked down.

   "No, sorry, I think I had enough..."

   I got up from the table, the Asian bloke's cum was drying on my chest.

   "Come on, sweety pie, don't play the lady on me after all I've just
seen. Just finish the job you've started, alright?"

   I stared at him in disbelief.  What for me had been a wet dream come
true, to Jamie it was just a cheap fuck with a slut.  Men still cannot
respect women who admit to their desires, the sexual revolution ate its
children.  Shag the dirty girl dry, but then go home to your pure and
frigid wife that is easy to control.  Jamie stepped closer, probably to
force me down on my knees, but I stepped back, I was naked and disgusted,
and then, suddenly, Mr.  America was standing behind me.

   "Jamie, let go, it's enough."

   He put his hooded cardi arond my shoulders to cover me up.  It was not
very effective, because the lower parts of my body were still exposed, but,
it was a nice and symbolic gesture.  Jamie looked at us, mumbled something,
shrugged, and trodded off, and I, who barely ever allow myself to show a
sign of weakness, sank into Mr.  America's twenty-something year old arms.
Despite his clumsy gestures, despite him not being the most profound
specimen, despite his age, I turned to him for protection.  He held me and
whispered in my ear:

   "That was just so hot!"

   and, shortly after:

   "You're an amazing woman, Maria."

   Tacky.  Even in my disordered state I could not help being judgmental.

   "Can I see you again?"

   He was prepared to hold me for a long time, but, as soon as I had
regained self-control, I freed myself from his embrace and got properly
dressed.  I gave him my number, but I was now embarrassed and quite
regretful about it all and silently hoped he would not call.  The fifth guy
was still standing at the wall, I had completely forgotton about him.  He
was one of the hunky English type that will always look like hooligans no
matter what they do.  He wore a grey-greenish hoodie, baggy jeans and
skateboardy trainers.  He looked at me and there was no reservation in his
voice when he said:

   "Thank you, that was absolutely awesome."

   "Oh.  Cheers.  I really appreciate your appreciation.  What's your
name?"

   "Paul."

   "Nice meeting you, Paul.  I'll see you around - it's a small town."

   "Well, you'll be in touch with my flatmate, won't you?"

   "Who's your flatmate?"

   "Him."

   He nodded over to Mr.  America.

   "Ricardo."

   That was six months ago.  As I had expected, I had not heard from Stepan
since, but I still thought about him a lot.  I think supporting the Czech
team that night was not completely unrelated.  I had avoided Amy and her
friends, but I had become a frequenter to Paul's and Ricardo's house, not
just for occasions like this one.  We had become friends and lovers.  We
laughed and joked a lot, and I enjoyed their company, even if they were a
bit shallow for my taste.  With them, I was free to be a little
unconventional.

   The game had proceeded 35 minutes into the first half, Beckham had
served a fantastic corner, but the Czech defense was on guard.  In general,
the Czechs had been more dangerous, even if yet unlucky.  They had had
three great opportunities, Rosicky had once shot against the post, whilst
the English keeper's mind seemed to be some place that was not the football
pitch.  I was leaning my head against Ricardo's chest, who had put his arm
around me, resting his hand on one of my breasts.  He had been squeezing it
and playing with it for the last ten minutes or so, feeling my erect nipple
even through the padded bra and my blouse.  I was breathing harder, I like
my breasts being squeezed.  I had swung one of my long legs over Paul's,
and he stroked my thigh absent mindedly.  He was following the game.  My
hands had worked their way up and rested now on top of the bulges in the
boys' trousers, stroking them gently.  They felt nice and hard and hot and
adorable.

   Ricardo seemed to think that it was time to unbutton my blouse and pull
down one of the straps of my bra, to expose one of my small breasts.  He
simply looked at it for a moment, admiring its shape, the pink nipple and
the almost colourless areola.  The referee whistled half time, and Linneker
appeared on the screen again.  Ricardo took my nipple between his fingers
and twisted and pinched it, thereby sending waves of excitation through my
body.  He cupped my naked breast with his hand, feeling the soft skin, and
then squeezed it, again.  I sighed and started kissing his neck and his
ear, letting go of Pauls boner for a while, blood was rushing through my
body, into my face and into my genitals, I got very aroused.  Ricardo took
off his t-shirt and I started stroking his now naked skinny and boyish, yet
athletic chest.  I leaned over, running my naked and hard nipple up and
down his arm.  He took my face in his hand and gave me a long intense kiss,
I pressed my half naked chest up against his.  Ricardo is such a sensual
kisser.  Leaning over like this against against him, I offered my backside
to Paul, who took the opportunity to start running one of his hands up and
down my bum and my thighs and, from behind, in between my legs.  His hand
slid across the spot where my legs meet, touching my pussy through the
jeans.  I got wetter and hotter by the minute, with one guy stroking my bum
and my pussy, and the other one kissing me and holding my half naked chest.

   Paul had taken out his cock and used his other hand to stroke up and
down its full length, while still fingering my bum and and the space in
between my legs.  He was really not a small guy, his cock looked quite
impressive like this, rock hard and big, deliciously covered with the first
drops of pre-cum.  He reached over to open my trousers, and pulled them
down, just over the thighs, so my full cheeks were facing him.  He gave
them a gentle smack, the same moment Ricardo pinched my nipple again and
grinned at me.  I sucked air in through my wide open mouth.  I could feel
my black thong being pulled down and turned my bum even further up to
facilitate access to Paul.  He went down behind me, he was looking right
into my gaping pussy in between my cheeks, I felt his hot breath.  He
spread my pussy lips with his fingers and bent down to give them a kiss,
tasting from the juices that I now spilt like a fountain.  Ricardo, in the
meantime, got fully rid of my blouse and my bra, so that I was naked, apart
from my jeans and my thong that were still hanging around my knees, while
the two of them were still mostly dressed.  I just loved these two guys. 
My pussy pulsated as Paul's tounge explored every fold of it and gently
sucked on my clitoris.  My hand greedily searched for Ricardo's cock, whose
hands, in return, traveled seemingly randomly across my chest, neck and
back.  I moistened my hands with my saliva and started running my fingers
around the circumcised tip of Ricardo's cock, and then up and down the
shaft.  I moaned as Paul ate my pussy, and I wished this moment would never
end.

   Paul stopped licking me shortly after, but just to insert two of his
fingers into my pussy, knowing that one finger is rarely enough for me, and
preparing it for his large cock.  I moaned, this was even better, and Paul
watched my hungry pussy react under his hands, fingerfucking me with two of
his fingers, thrusting in and out, while his thumb pressed and rubbed my
clitoris.  Breathing heavily, I looked up into Ricardo's eyes, and then I
came with a little cry, still holding on to Ricardo's cock, squeezing it,
and he smiled at me.  Paul pulled out his fingers, to watch the
contractions of my pussy.  He was observing its throbbing like a scientist,
content with the results of his experiment.

   They did not give me a break.  Ricardo took my face in his hand, and
stroked my lips with his finger, eventually forcing his finger into my
mouth, his eyes never losing contact with mine.  I started sucking his
finger as demanded, my hands still busy stroking up and down his cock. 
Paul, rock hard and ready, fully removed my trousers and knickers, clasped
my hips from behind and pulled me up into doggy position.  He moved up
behind me and bent over me, leaning on one of his hands and stroking my
chest with the other.  Taking my dangling breasts in his hand, he whispered
in my ear, teasingly:

   "Koller just scored for Czech Republic."

   I could not have cared less.  And to communicate the fact that I was not
in the least bothered, I started moving my hips up against him, seeking to
take his big cock between my cheeks.  I found it and closed my legs
sligthly to catch it between my cheeks, I started moving my hips to make
him slide up and down my crotch.  I had let go of Ricardo's cock, who
looked at me, amused, how I rubbed my bum up against Paul's groin and
commented

   "You are hot, Maria."

   Paul said nothing, he just moaned in pleasure, enjoying the sensation of
his cock sliding up and down my wet crotch with its trimmed pubic hair,
while leaning over me, holding on firmly to my breasts.  He could not take
the tease for long.  He released my breasts, rose bis torso, took his cock
in his hand and pressed the tip against the entry of my pussy, the moment
that my hungry body had been looking forward to all evening.  He then
slowly slid in, centimetre by centimetre, and I groaned in pleasure, god,
this felt so nice!  I saw Ricardo's boner in front of me, I was so hot, I
just went down on my forearms and leaned over to take it right into my
mouth, while Paul slowly pulled out of me again.  Paul soon found his
rhythm, pumping in and out of me.  I had one hard cock slide in and out of
my pussy and another one slide in and out of my mouth.  My tongue played
with Ricardo's tip, and I carefully stroked his balls with my fingers.  I
enjoyed his hardness inside my mouth, the heat, the texture and the taste
of pre-cum.

   The curious thing is that I really like giving head.  Indeed, it is one
of my favourites.  I started taking Ricardo in deeper and deeper, as Paul's
pumping became more and more intense.  Ricardo rested his hand on my head
and gently petted my hair while I sucked his cock as if it was a candy bar.
Paul was now driving it in as deep as he could, I could feel his long cock
deep inside me.  He was big, almost too big for me to take him, but only
almost.  It did hurt, but it just added to the pleasure, feeling how this
thick long cock filled my hot wet cunt to the max.  Paul's fingers dug deep
into the flesh of my hips.  I knew he was about to come.  Ricardo's fingers
had sunk, likewise, into my curly long hair, to press my head further and
further down onto his cock, he was moaning loudly with pleasure.  Out of
the three of us, he was the loudest, and he loved blowjobs more than
anything else in the world.  I blew him off like my life depended on it. 
He too was about to come.  And I kneeled there, between my two men, getting
the most intense sensations and pleasures from both ends, working my lips
down a gorgeous hard cock, suppressing my gag reflex, pressing my bum back
up against another one, that was thrusting in and out of me, fucking me
beyond words, and then I was the first to come, I cried out, as waves of
pleasure shook my body, but I was shortly followed by both men.  The
contractions of my pussy around Paul's cock were enough to make him cum
instantaneoulsy and he pumped his load deep into my cunt with a long groan
of satisfaction, only seconds before Ricardo cried out and pulled my head
down around his cock spurting his cum down my throat.  I tried to pull back
a bit, so I didn't choke, but he pressed my head down forcefully, so I
gagged.  I swallowed as much of it as I could but some of it dribbled out
of my mouth and onto his groin.  Paul did not pull his cock out as it lost
its stiffness, he rather sunk down on top of me, hugging me, burying his
face in my hair, playfully biting my neck.  I gave in to his weight and
sunk down onto my belly, Paul on top of me with his cock still inside of
me. My head rested in Ricardo's lap, and I used my tongue to lick up every
drop of his cum that I had wasted, from the corner of my mouth, from his
groin and from his cock.  He watched me, leaned back contently and stroked
my head.

   We lay like this, inside and on top of each other for another couple of
minutes, as the second half went into extra time.  We knew each others
bodies so well, but still it was a rare thing to happen for the three of us
to climax together, it had been intense and exhausting.  Probably, I would
stay over at their's.  Probably, there would be a second round, possibly a
third.  I am not entirely sure, but I think the Czech team won the game in
the end.