Jack and I go way back. We started out working at the same place about 15 years ago and as we were both Tottenham fans, we started going to matches and meeting up for a few pints now and then. It sort of became a habit over the years and we play a betting game every World Cup. We pick an England match in the Group Stages, flip a coin and heads gets to bet on England winning. This year tails got Belgium and I picked tails. Whoever wins usually buys dinner or a nice bottle of whiskey that we share. I was sure that I was on to a loser.
Jack moved away from London a few years back to take a really good job in Brighton. He loves living there and I’ve been down to see him a few times, but for the World Cup, we meet up in London for old times’ sake. We got ourselves a suite at a top hotel in the West End and plonked ourselves in front of the telly. I’d bought a couple of bottles of bubbly for fun and we had room service bring us drinks as well. I couldn’t bloody believe it when Belgium moved ahead. Neither could Jack. We both started drinking more than usual just to deal with the stress. I might have betted on Belgium, but my heart was with England.
After the match, Jack handed over the cash and we just sort of sat there in the big cushiony chairs in shock. I was on the merry side of inebriated and feeling a little bit on the horny side. Jack and I have pulled a lot of women in our time. We’re both divorced now, but even when we were married we covered for each other when we were having a naughty night. I grinned at Jack and asked ‘You know what I’m going to spend our winnings on?’ Looking still shell-shocked from the game upset, he replied ‘Pizza?’. I burst out laughing and said ‘Something almost as good. Women!’
‘What the hell are you on about? I don’t fancy going out and trying to pull tonight mate. I mean, sure it would be fun and everything but mate..we just lost.’ Jack had no idea what I was on about so I explained. ‘Jack. It’s so much easier than that. I’m just going to go online. Make a little arrangement and…well, just wait. Go have a shower and I’ll meet you in the bar in an hour.” I got online and went to my favourite escort service, Cleopatra Escorts. I explained to them what I wanted and they said our dates would be here in a couple of hours. I headed off to freshen up and then went to the bar where Jack was nursing a pint.
“So, what the hell are you up to?” Jack quizzed me. I put on my best mysterious face and said “Be patient. You’ll see”. We knocked back a couple more rounds and then, I couldn’t help but notice two stunning, long haired beauties come striding, into the bar. They walked right up to us and I could barely conceal my amusement when Jack’s jaw hit the floor. “What the actual hell mate?” Jack stuttered as he looked at me and then looked back at the gorgeous ladies in front of us, “Are you for real?” “Oh yes, Jack. This is for real and you better make the best of it mate.”
After a few more drinks and some chit chat, getting to know the ladies, I suggested we head up to our suite to relax. By this time, Jack couldn’t move quickly enough and the girls were giggling and seemed up for some fun. Jack and I are, what you’d call, middle aged, but we scrub up well and we’re very entertaining. What we lack in six packs, we make up for in laughs and the girls seemed to be enjoying our company. They were both incredibly sexy, spoke perfect English and it quickly and easily felt like we’d known them for far longer.
When we got up to our suite, I had room service bring another bottle of bubbly and I asked the girls if they’d dance for us. Oh. My. God. I don’t know if it was the drinks or the dancing, but I suddenly found myself enjoying the experience far too much to be sharing it with Jack. I mean, I love him like a brother and all that, but there comes a time when you just need to be on your own. Well…on your own with a gorgeous lady wearing very little clothing, I should say. Jack needed no encouragement to take his date to his own room. Needless to say, we both had a night to remember and Jack thinks that we should now do this every year during the World Cup. Who am I to argue?