Nineteen Years Hotter

Copyright © August 2025 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Author's Notes

This is an entry for the 2025 Summer Lovin' Contest. I hope it hits the mark and would welcome your comments and votes if you enjoyed. I will give you a word of warning. It is a slow burner. If you want to cut to the chase, I'd recommend jumping straight to Seven. I hope you don't though.

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One

We're up all night to get lucky... or at least that's what they hoped

It was that time again, as the academic year came to an end and your attention turned towards the summer, and that thought of one last fling before the three friends parted their ways once more. They'd done the same for the last three years having been thrown together as freshers, but this time had even more meaning than the ones which went before. For all they knew, it could be their last, having already completed their four years of study and with the formalities of graduation now behind them.

Whatever came next, even if it did mean they all went their separate ways; Stu, Pete and Andy were going to have one last hoorah together. How did the phrase go; go big or go home, or something like that. Well, that's exactly what the three friends had planned to do. They'd booked it well before their exams, as a celebration regardless of what results they got--in fact all three had plenty to celebrate, having exceeded in their expectations--and now had two weeks all-inclusive in the Algarve to look forward to.

Fast forward a little and, as they boarded their early morning flight, the whole trip took on an air of reality. First came the pilot's announcement, then the thrust of those engines pushing you back into your seat, and finally that moment as you felt the plane angle up and away from the runway. It was as the seatbelts sign went off and the trolley made its way around for the first time, that the three friends could final say they were on their way. As a round of drinks came their way, thoughts turned to what might be waiting for them in a matter of hours...

...wall to wall sunshine.

...free-flowing beer.

...golden sands.

...clear blue waters.

...fun, frolics, and the fairer sex.

Each had their own expectation. Each had their own top of the list priority. They were the same priorities they always had, and for sure some were nothing more than wishful thinking, yet you had to head off with all the best intentions, and that is just what the three friends did. Maybe this year, maybe this would be the one when everything you wished for turned true. Only time would tell, but what was a given was that the three twenty-two-year-olds were gonna have a wail of a time, starting off with a spot of breakfast and an early morning beer to wash it down.

"Cheers," Stu announced, holding aloft a plastic beaker half-filled with beer. "Here's to fun, frolics, and how does it go... you know, Pete..."

Pete's response was immediate, a little more subdued in voice, but directed much in a similar vein and for sure in answer to that very question. Without warning, first Pete and then Stu broke out into song.

"We're up all night 'til the sun... we're up all night to get some... we're up all night for good fun... we're up all night to get lucky... we're up all night to get lucky..."

It wasn't really a surprise. Of the three friends, Stu and Pete were the more extrovert--both were of the sporty type, Stu being a member of the rugby club with Pete preferring a life on the water, with rowing being his choice of poison--to the point of being just a little obnoxious on occasions, albeit never with any intention of being hurtful. They were just, well, enough to say you tended to hear them before you saw them, and, for sure, they weren't at all shy in coming forward.

"Awww... come on Andy-boy... you know we don't mean anything by it..." Stu suddenly broke out of song, noticing the one member of the group who wasn't joining in. "But... be honest... tell me you wouldn't want to get lucky if the chance came your way."

For a moment, Andy said nothing. It wasn't that he didn't have an answer. Of course, he'd have loved to 'get lucky' as they so crudely put it, but the very idea was a little unrealistic when it came to Andy's endeavours with the fairer sex. There'd been chances before, there always were, but something just didn't... what was the word... click. Was it a lack of luck, or was it something more?

Andy liked to think that he was just waiting for the right person, but sometimes he wondered if that was the case. There again, beyond the macho bravado, Andy also wondered if anyone was really getting that lucky. At the end of the day, wasn't the real intention just to have a good time. Andy smiled, filled his glass, then turned to the others.

"Cheers," Andy announced, joining in with the playful toast but staying shy of starting to sing. "Better beware... Algarve... you're not gonna know what's hit you."

Headphones on, Andy settled back into his seat. Much as he intended to get sucked into one of his many audiobooks, he just couldn't get the words of that song out of his mind. Andy had no intention of going looking for it, but what would he do if lady luck did come calling his way? Metaphorically, he shook his head. No... never... getting lucky was something for others and not for him.

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Two

Two's company, three's a crowd... so what is five?

This time it seemed they'd hit the jackpot, in more ways than one. They'd splashed out a little more than normal, and it seemed to be worth every penny. That list of priorities was soon being ticked off, one by one, including those which were usually nothing more than wishful thinking.

The hotel was fantastic. It claimed to be five stars, and for sure it lived up to its claims. All-inclusive, drinks on tap, a plethora of eating holes... what more could you want?

...wall to wall sunshine... tick, there was barely a cloud in the sky, and it was forecast to stay that way for the whole two weeks.

...free-flowing beer... okay, so it wasn't the world's finest, but it was cold and wet, so yes, another big tick.

...golden sands... they were there somewhere, the brochure had shown them, but to date the three friends hadn't had the need to venture away from the hotel... a theoretical tick, but one for another day.

...clear blue waters... again, one for another day, unless you counted the blueness of the numerous pools, tiled by day, illuminated by night.

...fun, frolics, and the fairer sex... and that was where it was just starting to get interesting.

Nobody was quite sure when they started to tag along, or more so nobody could care, but before long, their group had swelled somewhat. At first it was just in the pool, a couple of young women getting a little more familiar as they joined in with the daily dose of water polo and the like, but before long they seemed to be a more permanent fixture. What started as just the pool soon became mealtimes to boot and, by the middle of the first week, the three had grown in number to five.

Chelsea and Quinn were their names, a blonde and a brunette to boot, both full of the enthusiasm which came with a mixture of youth and your first time away on your own. They were friends rather than sisters and both were beautiful if you liked them that way.

What way?

Well, to start with, they were young--from what they could glean Chelsea was just over nineteen with Quinn a few months her younger--and rather immature. All day long they would be there, hanging on to whatever Stu and Pete had to say, laughing when they needed to, flirting when it helped, pandering to the muscular prowess of these two mighty sportsmen.

Even that last priority of fun, frolics and the fairer sex seemed to be morphing into something more. Maybe, just maybe, some of the group would be up all night for some fun. Maybe, just maybe, some of the group would be getting lucky.

So, what was the problem? Well, that depended on just who you were. For two of the group, absolutely nothing was wrong. If anything, Stu, and Pete were just as complicit in encouraging the flirtation as the girls were willing to provide. To the outside observer, you might have thought them to be two close-knit couples, Stu with Quinn and Pete with Chelsea, just out for a good time.

So, if the problem wasn't the other four, the problem had to be Andy, and even he would half admit to the same. Two was company, and three was a crowd. That was how the saying went, and the same applied to four and five. For all his two friends seemed infatuated with their newly found interest of the fairer sex kind, Andy wasn't so enamoured. Something just wasn't working, or more so somethings, three things to be precise.

For sure, that feeling of being the odd one out, the gooseberry amongst the group was a bit of an issue. The whole idea of being the single amongst pairs made Andy feel just a little self-conscious, but that wasn't the only problem.

Then there were the girls themselves, the two oh so young--that was a bit ironic given they were most likely less than four years Andy's junior--hangers on. They were sweet. They were charming. They were harmless, in an innocent sort of way. For what Andy knew, they may even be on their first ever dates, if this casual encounter classified as a date. So, what was the problem? Andy wasn't going to let on, but they just weren't his type. He wasn't exactly sure what his type was, but for sure, if you excused the crudeness, he wanted somebody who had a bit more between the ears than these two young chicks.

If that wasn't enough, it seemed all four were suddenly on a mission to try and find a sixth to the group, to even up the numbers once more, to provide a resolution to that gooseberry issue. Every opportunity, every suggestion that there may be somebody who fitted the bill, and Andy was given a nudge.

'Look, over there...' came the first suggestion.

'What do you think... isn't she gorgeous...' came another.

'Go on, Andy... introduce yourself...' came a third.

'Unless you want us to do it for you...' was the final.

Every time, Andy tried to put them off, to divert the focus away from himself. He had no intention of walking up to a stranger and putting himself on a pedestal in the vain hope that they may be interested. For one, it just didn't feel right, and for another, he wasn't sure he could cope with the expected rejections, or maybe even the more physical rebuke if he really caused offence.

Still though, and this was the surprising thing, it didn't stop Andy from looking. His reaction might not have been immediate, the minute they suggested that there might be a match made in heaven somewhere close by, but eventually Andy did react, peeking roughly in the direction which had been suggested. There was a sort of nonchalance in the glance, as Andy scanned the grounds just in case his gaze landed on anyone remotely interesting.

Suffice to say, if the others had already gotten lucky, Andy wasn't close to joining that party, nor had he even picked up enough courage to enquire about joining. When finally, somebody did catch his eye, it came as quite a surprise. This time, Andy wasn't really looking for anybody. All he was doing was gazing into space, rather than participating in what had become that evening's topic of conversation.

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By the time Thursday arrived, day six of their holiday, there was a buzz of excitement in the group. As the usual round of beers arrived, with them came a glossy slip of paper, advertising an upcoming event down in the town. It was the latter which had become the focus of attention, at least from four out of the five.

Andy, on the other hand, wasn't exactly enthused by the idea of going to a rave, and very quickly became a little distant from the conversation. He wanted to be interested. He wanted to join in with the enthusiasm which now filled the table. The problem though was that raves weren't exactly his scene, even if it was meant to be a somewhat famous MC leading the show. Much as he tried to show some interest, Andy couldn't, and before long he found his attention starting to wane.

Andy sat there, sipping away at his beer, all the time staring out into space, looking at nothing or no one in particular, simply watching the world go by. And as he did, his gaze suddenly fell on something interesting, or more so, someone.

She was there, sitting about two tables back from where he was, and much as Andy tried not to, his gaze kept coming back to that very table and its solo occupant. As the stranger chatted away to one of the waiters, Andy found himself starting to stare.

What caught his eye?

At first it was her dress. It was beautiful. It was a short black number, low cut at the front, with thin spaghetti straps running up and over her shoulders. Okay, so shoulder might have been more apt, as one strap had dropped down at the side and threatened to tumble as far as to put a little too much flesh on display.

Was that it?

Was it that shoulder, the dangling strap, and the chance of getting an impromptu flash of plentiful breast? The thought alone would most likely have grabbed anyone's attention, but there was something else. There was the woman herself, and that was the surprise. Try as he must, Andy couldn't quite put his finger on why that table, and why that woman, but suddenly he couldn't get her out of his mind. He was becoming just a tad infatuated with a stranger in a little black dress, and he didn't know why.

She was pretty... god yes, she was pretty, in an undeniably sophisticated sort of way, with her shapely figure, her gorgeously tanned complexion, and her sharply cut shoulder-length blonde locks.

She was present... there was no slouching in a chair, no dreaming of being somewhere else, she was there, she was present, she was talking attentively to that lucky waiter.

She had that smile... oh yeah, there was something about that smile, about the way those tiny creases emanated from the corners of her mouth, about the way you just seemed magnetically attracted to its radiance.

She was... this is the bit Andy really couldn't explain. She was older. How old, Andy wasn't so sure, but most definitely older.

Why then, why did he find himself compelled to stare back at this stranger? It wasn't like they had anything in common, was it? Still though, that's what he did, his gaze lingering almost a little too long. As Andy stared back at that shoulder, and the drooping strap, he didn't notice that the waiter had gone until it was almost too late. Quick as a flash, trying not to bring any attention to himself, Andy turned back towards the others and immersed himself in the ongoing conversation.

"So, are you really serious about going?" Andy asked, trying to show some interest in the rave yet, all the time, hoping his interest in a certain stranger hadn't been noticed, either by his fellow travellers or by the subject of his attention.

"Sure thing," Chelsea replied, bubbly as ever. "Gonna be great. We all in?"

One by one, the four travellers provided an affirmative, leaving just Andy. Luckily, he got a slight stay of execution as, in that moment, the waiter appeared, and another round of drinks was ordered. If he had thought he had gotten away without answering, Andy was much mistaken. No sooner had the order been taken, than the question was asked once more.

"What about you, Andy?" Quinn asked. "We can do Friday first, then decide about Saturday. Come on... it'll be such fun."

For a moment there was silence.

"Oh... I dunno," Andy finally replied. "Not really my scene you know, and you don't really want me cramping your style, do you?"

"You sure, Andy?" Quinn responded. "It won't be the same without you."

"I'm sure... I'll be fine right here. You do Friday, come back, and tell me just how good it was, and I'll take a view on Saturday. What do you say? Deal?" Andy replied.

"Deal!" came a unanimous response, perfectly timed with the arrival of that fresh round of beers.

For the next few minutes, the excitement in the camp died down. For four of the five, they had plans to make, tickets to buy, and a good time to be had down in the town. For the fifth, there was a chance of some quality time just to himself, and Andy didn't really mind. The girls had been a bit full on for his liking, so getting some time away was a bit of a relief.

With the others crowded over a mobile phone, busily making arrangements, Andy found himself glancing off into space once more, his gaze heading back towards a certain table, and a certain stranger. He knew he shouldn't, and that it was wrong to stare, but the desire to catch another glance was just too much.

Would she still be there?

Would that dress still be hanging seductively off her shoulder?

Would he get another eyeful of those full breasts?

What Andy did get though was something else, something he hadn't really been expecting. What he got was a smile. What he got was that smile. The loose hanging strap had been taken care of, but, oh yes, she was still there, and this time, if he didn't know better, she was looking right at him.

In that moment, Andy panicked. Should he smile back and, if he did, would that be admitting that he had been gawping at her? Should he play the innocent and just ignore her response? After all, the smile might not even have been for him so wouldn't that make him into a bit of a fool if he did react?

In the end, it was the latter that Andy plumped upon. His gaze never lingered on the attractive older woman. He just continued looking, scanning the grounds before finally beckoning over the nearest waiter. Once more, a sense of relief came over Andy as he ordered yet another beer; a drink he didn't need but an altogether better outcome than being caught staring at a stranger.

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If Andy was relieved, a couple of tables away, Nicole was intrigued. She went back to her cocktail, intent on finishing off the one before heading off to dinner. All the time though, her mind was somewhere else, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Had he really been staring at her?

And what if he had?

What did it mean?

Was it just the dress?

She'd had a few doubts about wearing it and whether the look was really her. After all, it was a bit of a sexy number, and with the strap down at one side, was it any surprise she had gathered some attention? But then... why him, why someone possibly young enough to be her son? Was he just being opportunistic, noticing the way that strap hung, hoping it would fall further and reveal just a little too much? Was that it? Was that what he was all about?

The smile had been intentional, as if testing the water, trying to garner a response, any sort of response. Nicole didn't know what she wanted by way of a reaction. Was she looking for him to smile back, to acknowledge her, to give her the opportunity to ask why, or even to chastise him for his cheek? It was what she should be doing, at her age, telling him it was rude to stare.

The problem though, was that the response didn't really give her anything, at least not anything concrete. There was a touch of guilt, or maybe embarrassment, in the way he didn't make eye contact, but was that enough? It wouldn't exactly stand up in a court of law to condemn the young man. That said, Nicole was sure she had caught him at it, eyeing her up, staring at her, and it was that very thought which weighed heavily on her mind. Not that he had done it, but more so what she wanted to do about it.