There are hundreds of people here. Or at least it feels like it. There are certainly too many for this small bar. She knew that the half time queues were always horrendous, but this was something else! The bar staff sweat as they rush up and down, somehow managing to juggle orders and queues without causing an all out fight as eager drinkers push forward, surging into every opening in front of them and not all that subtly elbowing their competitors out of the way in the battle to be served first.
They are about 3 people back from the bar, inching forward with the crowd as it flexes around them. Suddenly, a particularly forceful shove from behind crushes them together. Surprised by the change in dynamic of the mass, she is propelled forwards and it is only his arms catching her around her waist that stop her crashing into the back of the man in front. Almost immediately, another jostle knocks him off balance and he grabs at her to save his own fall. Even despite the noise, she could hear him laughing as he held her closer to him.
As they near the bar, the space around them becomes smaller as the constant pressure from behind continues to push forward. With his arms still around her, she presses back, her whole body touching his. She becomes more and more aware of their close contact in such a public place, and desire twists inside her as they are squashed together again. Chest against back, legs entangled, she pushes her arse back into him. Wriggling slightly, she can feel his cock hardening in his jeans. His fingers curl and grip her shirt at her hips and he leans into her. It is only a slight movement and would not be noticed by those around her, but his weight against her like this feels deliciously illicit and she suddenly hopes the bar staff stall and she can stay crushed against him for longer.
On the pretence of stability, she widens her legs and starts to gently circle her hips, rubbing herself back and forth against the crotch of his trousers. He lifts the hem of her shirt and runs his finger around the waistband of her jeans, his touch burning against her skin.
The thrusting of the crowd jolts and slams them against each other over and over again. Disguised within these movements, he bites the nape of her neck and laughs at her moan of pleasure, a sound wholly inappropriate for their location but luckily drowned out by the chatter around them. He cups her arse and pulls her harder back, controlling her movements as she rubs against him.
Finally, they make it to the bar. Theatrically bending over more than strictly necessary to make herself heard, she shouts out her order. Standing close behind her, he slides his hand over her proffered arse, toying with the thick central seam of her jeans and causing it to rub against her clit. A powerful shiver surges through her and she collapses forward onto her forearms on the bar. She accepts her drinks with shaking hands and passes them back to him, not trusting her grip with their hard fought prize.
He grins wickedly at her and, before they battle back to their seats, presses his mouth against her ear. His voice is a harsh whisper that is barely audible above the cacophony but his words couldn’t have been clearer if they were alone in the room.
‘Once this match is over, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll not be able to walk for a week.’
People later asked her what it was like to actually be there in the stadium for this historic win. She always had to lie…she couldn’t remember a single part of rest of the game…