Then the Italian midfield broke through. A twisting run split the German defence and a reverse pass was slotted through and cleanly converted. The bar went wild with people jumping, including me, until I realised that I should really not be letting this short dress bounce up and down when I’m wearing nothing underneath.
Angelika looked sick, despite the fact that Germany were still winning by three goals to two.
“Ten more minutes for another goal,” I teased, “And, erm, aren’t you forgetting something?” I stared at her dress with a raised eyebrow.
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