tagChain StoriesSuperstitions Ch. 03

Superstitions Ch. 03


Chapter 3: Moira and the Wearin' O' the Green

If Moira were a man, she would be described as being "As Irish as Paddy's pig". Since she is a beautiful young woman, people don't say that about her, but her favorite design motif is shamrocks and her favorite color, by far, is green. She always wears at least one green outer garment and on special days, especially, Saint Patrick's Day, she wears nothing but green, from her eye-shadow to her lipstick to her shoes and all points in between. I do mean all points, every one, but I am one of the few persons, maybe the only one, who actually knows that about all the points.

Moira's grandparents immigrated to the United States during World War Two and brought their sons and daughters. Both sets of grandparents were from Dublin and had frightening memories of the 1916 Easter rebellion and its bloody suppression and aftermath. These memories resulted in a hatred of all things British and the hatred was passed along to their children and grandchildren, including Moira. By the time I met her, the hatred had declined to the point of being dislike and distrust but Moira and her family still did whatever they thought would somehow injure or at least discomfit the British, in particular the wearin' o' the green.

"The green" dates back to the late eighteenth century when the British put down an Irish rebellion in which the rebels fought under a green banner with the emblem of a harp. Since then, green has been a symbol of Irish unity, and struggle for independence. In the nineteenth century, the wearing of green was actually outlawed as sedition against the British crown. However, most of the Emerald Isle has been independent since 1922 and the inhabitants of the rest of the island want to continue to be a part of the United Kingdom. In other words, the battle has been won, at least to the degree it is winnable.

When I asked Moira about this, she just responded, "And now, how else would we be after showin' our solidarity with our martyrs and heroes and a-bringin' bad cess to the bloody British if not by the wearin' o' the green? How else would we be after keepin' good fortune on our side? I thought ye were Irish, and would be a-knowin' about that."

I am part Irish, but probably more English. I thought it would be wise to keep that latter fact from Moira. I assured her that I was of Irish descent and that I also wore green in solidarity with the heroes and martyrs of Ireland. Fortunately, I know quite a bit about the histories of Ireland and England from some research I had been doing on a story I was writing and I was wearing a green shirt that day so my claims were believable. Since that time, I have always made it a point to wear green when I was with Moira.

I also usually wear green on Saint Patrick's Day also and I was doing so this most recent one when Moira came around ringing my doorbell. I was by myself and I let her in. She was wearing a green ribbon in her red hair; her blue eyes were shadowed by green and it looked peculiar to see her pretty, freckled face wearing green lipstick. Moira had on a light green blouse decorated with dark green shamrocks and a skirt and shoes that matched the shamrocks. It was later that I found out about the points in between.

"Sure and Begorrah," she started out by saying. The bloody Sassenach are at it agin. Moira doesn't usually talk that way but it was, after all, Saint Patrick's Day. Saint Paddy, to us good Irishmen.

"And what would the bloody Sassenach be after doin' now?" I asked her. I can lay it on as thickly as she can, even matching her brogue.

"Ah, now, and ye wouldn't be believin' it, but my landlord, that son of Cromwell, says he has to raise me rent, starting in a month. May all his ancestors rot in Hell.

"The Divil, ye say? And what would ye be after doin' about it?"

"Do? What will I do? Pay the bloodsucker, of course. Begorrah, it's still the cheapest decent apartment I can find even if it is run by the bloody Sassenach. Just hopin' I could be after a-gettin' some comfort from you is what I am."

Moira and I are very fond of each other and we had kissed affectionately when she entered, and we were still embracing when she told me what she wanted. I kissed her again and, and this time we both had our mouths open,

"Of course, me lovely Mavourneen," I told her. A fine Irish lassie like ye are can always be after a-gettin' comfort here." While I assured Moira by word, I hugged her tightly and kissed her again, assuring her by deed, and started steering her in the direction of my bedroom. I was pretty sure I knew what she meant and I really liked the idea also.

I hadn't expected anybody to be coming over to the house and I hadn't made the bed that morning. The sheets were still clean enough but the bed was rumpled and when Moira saw it she scolded me. "Sure now, and it's after needin' a good woman around here that ye are."

"Ah, Lassie, that I am. And would ye be that good woman now? Begorrah."

"Well, for now I am, anyway," she answered, pulling the covers down so we would just be lying on the sheets. Moira straightened up and we resumed kissing while my fingers were fumbling with the buttons on her blouse. The buttons were dark green, of course. She was unbuttoning my shirt at the same time and we finished together.

Moira turned partially around so I could take off her blouse and unhook and remove her bra, the first dark green one I had ever seen. When she turned back to face me, her lovely breasts, creamy white with a scattering of freckles were presented to my eyes. After Moira finished removing my shirt I cupped them in my hands and gently kissed her rosy pink nipples.

"Sure, now laddie, and ye are truly knowin' what a horny lassie needs when the Sassenach are a-makin her life miserable." Moira held my arms and leaned back, letting me lick and fondle her for a minute until she lay down on the bed, pulling me after her. She was lying on her back with a pillow under her head and I lay beside her, kissing her mouth, eyes and down her throat while one hand continued caressing her beautiful breasts. Supporting my weight on the other elbow, I leaned over Moira and resumed licking first one nipple then the other. They became erect under my ministrations, delighting my tongue. As Moira became more and more aroused, she squirmed on the bed, presenting her luscious mounds to me to lick and my tongue went from one of her lovely twins to the other and back.

"Oooo, George, that feels so good," she murmured, apparently forgetting the dialect. It felt good to both of us and the next thing I did was even better.

As Moira thrust one of her luscious globes to me, I opened my mouth and drew it in, closing my lips on the soft flesh and licking the nipple inside my mouth. While I licked, I sucked, fondling her large, sensitive nipple and tracing her areola with my tongue. Her hips were writhing on the bed and I knew her pussy was almost ready for eating but I wanted to let my mouth and her breasts continue to pleasure one another for a while yet. Back and forth, from one succulent twin to the other my mouth went, until Moira was cooing in pleasure and I could smell that her pussy was producing her fragrant juices and see her fucking into the air inside her green skirt.

Slowly I licked and kissed my way down Moira's creamy belly, starting with the channel between her breasts. Holding one of the beautiful mounds against either cheek, I licked between them and down her belly, stopping to swirl my tongue into her navel. While I licked, one hand was busy with the button and zipper on her skirt and by the time I reached the waistband of that garment, it was ready to be removed. With that intention, I got off the bed, went around to the foot and took hold of the hem of Moira's skirt. She raised herself up from the bed so I could pull it off her.

"Yeah, George. That's it. I love it when you eat my pussy," Moira told me, having completely forgotten the dialect and, possibly, that it was Saint Paddy's Day. I was reminded of that fact when I saw her panties after taking off her skirt and setting it aside. Her panties matched the bra that I had removed earlier except for the delectable pussy juices that had soaked the crotch. Moira was also wearing light green stockings, held up by garters – dark green, of course. I slowly pulled off the panties but decided to leave the stockings and garters so that she would continue to wear something green.

Moira knew what to do next and she spread her legs and raised them high in the air so I could kneel on the bed and get between them with my arms wrapped around her thighs and my fingers in her soft pubic hair. Like all the fair-skinned, natural redheads that I know of, Moira has a really beautiful pussy, all pink and creamy white and framed by her red pubic hair. Her hair is sparse enough that it doesn't interfere with the visual delight of her pussy and soft enough to feel good on my tongue. My face was just inches away but before I did anything else, I let my eyes gaze on the beauty that is Moira's pussy.

As my eyes enjoyed themselves, so did my nose because her juices were running freely and their fragrance was unspoiled by any artificial scent. The natural aroma of juices, running fresh from a pussy, is one of the most incredible delights in the world and one of the greatest turn-ons to men. Even more delectable was the taste of those juices as I licked them from her pussy lips, already engorged, and from her crotch and thighs. The feel of Moira's lovely body to my tongue and of her pussy fucking into my face was a delight to another sense, and the sound of Moira cooing in pleasure and telling me how much she loved having me eat her pussy brought pleasure to my fifth sense, that of hearing. "Oh, God, I love that!" she said. "I love that! I love the feel of your mouth on my pussy. You really know what to do."

I knew what to do, allright, take a long time eating Moira's pussy to produce the maximum pleasure for both us. What I wanted to do was bring her to a high level of arousal and keep her there for as long as I could before bringing her to a climax. To start, after pleasuring my senses of sight and smell and of taste from licking up her pussy juices, I started favoring my sense of touch, licking the outer and inner pussy lips where they began on one side, starting with the small area between them. Very slowly, letting my tongue caress Moira's soft flesh, I licked her between the lips to the point where they were close together. From there, I licked the lower edge of Moira's love hole, probing with my tongue and delighting in the fresh juices that squirted out to please my taste buds. Her pussy was fucking harder into my face and Moira's cooing was starting to turn into moans of pleasure.

After licking between the other pair of pussy lips, my tongue got busy on the outside of the outer lip on that side. This is not a really sensitive area but I wanted to take a long time before Moira started cumming and I really love the feel of her soft pubic hair on my tongue. I can appreciate a woman who shaves or waxes her pussy but ultra-soft hair like that of Moira feels even better to my tongue than the hairless skin. I licked the outer edge all the way to Moira's mons, then returned to the other outer lip and licked all the way to her mons on that side. After relishing all the fresh juices her pussy had produced, I started exploring between the inner and outer lips where I had started.

"Keep eating me, George. You make my pussy feel wonderful," was Moira's entreaty to me, and I liked hearing it but it was really unnecessary. I wanted very much to keep eating and I knew I was giving her pleasure from her moans and the way her pussy was fucking strongly into my face. Very slowly, I probed with my tongue, covering all the area of both lips, reveling in how engorged her inner lip had become since I started. When I reached the area where the inner lip ends by joining with the other inner lip, I continued licking all the way to Moira's mons, once again relishing the feel of her hair on my tongue.

The two inner lips meet to form the clit hood and after licking her mons, I brought my tongue back and gently caressed the top of the protector, indirectly stimulating the adorable love button that was being protected. "My clit! My clit! Lick my clit!" Moira begged me. "Oooo! Oooo! There! Right there!" was her response as my tongue gently massaged her clit hood. I didn't spend much time there because I wanted to bring Moira along slowly so we would both get the most pleasure when she started cumming.

Once again, I feasted on the plentiful fresh juices that Moira's pussy had produced. My tongue then probed and licked the other pair of pussy lips, once again caressing her mons and returning to pleasure her clit hood with my tongue. Again, she begged me to lick her clit because Moira was highly aroused by that time and wanted to cum from what my mouth was doing. I wanted both of us to feel even more pleasure, the most possible, before she started cumming and she still had quite a way to go before she reached the maximum arousal.

Even so, I did what Moira wanted because it seemed to be about time. After licking the top of the protective hood, I curled my tongue underneath to fondle Moira's clit. It was delightful to feel the spongy, engorged sides and an equal delight to feel her fucking stronger than ever into my face and hear her say, "Yes! Yes! That's the place! Lick my clit!" Moira was writhing on the bed from the pleasure she was receiving and if I had continued licking a little longer, she would have started cumming but I still wanted to delay that for a while. The brief contact with her sweetest spot had caused a fresh flood of juices from her pussy and I devoured them, finding them to be as delicious as always.

The inside surfaces of Moira's inner lips, especially when they were as engorged as they were then, are second only to her clit as being the most sensitive parts of her pussy. Very gently, my tongue explored these sensitive places, moving back and forth across her love hole and probing the edges there. I reveled in the delicious juices that were so plentiful and in the feel of Moira's pussy and in her moans of pleasure. Moira wanted to cum and she was begging me to suck her clit. The tops of her thighs had turned outward, presenting her pussy fully to me and she was fucking the strongest yet into my face, her ass almost bouncing off the bed. It was time for me to suck her clit so Moira could cum.

Gently, using my fingers and my tongue, I peeled her hood back from the precious love toy it was protecting and enveloped Moira's swollen clit in my mouth. With my lips forming a seal, I sucked gently while my tongue caressed the sides and top. "There! There!" Moira cried out. "Oh, my God, that's wonderful. Suck me there! Suck me there!" I needed no urging and I sucked and licked her marvelous clit for several minutes while Moira moaned and sobbed and tossed on the bed.

"Yes! Yes! Oh, yes!" was the joyous cry as Moira started cumming. Her legs squeezed my temples and her hands grabbed the back of my head to press my face even more tightly into her pussy. Ecstatically, she rocked back and forth and side to side, her hands and legs keeping my head a prisoner, and a very willing prisoner it was. I kept my lips firmly wrapped around her clit and my arms tightly holding her legs and went where her aimless thrashing took me, continuing to suck and lick on that wonderful mouthful. At her climax, Moira arched her back and drove her pussy one last time into my face, followed by completely relaxing on the bed, her arms limply at her sides. My head was no longer a prisoner; Moira's legs were draped over my shoulders, just as relaxed as the rest of her body.

Before crawling out from underneath, I licked all the juices from her thighs, crotch and pussy lips, leaving enough inside her vagina to serve as lubrication for the next thing that I expected Moira to want to do. When I had eaten everything I thought I should, I went into the bathroom and used my fingers to wipe most of her juices off my face. I licked off my fingers to avoid wasting any more of her nectar than I could help, and what I couldn't eat, I washed off with a wet towel. I expected that we would do a lot more kissing and I know Moira is a bit squeamish about tasting her own juices. Barefoot but still wearing my pants, I returned to the bedroom and saw Moira, completely relaxed on the bed, a peaceful smile on her face. My condoms are kept in a bowl on top of the nightstand and I selected one, removed the rest of my clothing and put on the condom. When I was ready, I went back to the foot of the bed to gaze at the beautiful Moira again.

Her pussy was smeared with her juices and my saliva but a beautiful sight for all that. Both garters were still around her thighs but the stockings they had supported had come loose and were bunched around her ankles. I didn't expect that to bother Moira because she believes that the darker green of her garters, the color of live and healthy shamrocks, has many times more magical power than the light green of her stockings. I stepped up beside her and kissed her pretty, green lips. Moira opened her eyes and smiled.

"Sure and Begorrah, Laddie, ye really do know how to please a horny lassie. There is one more thing I be after wantin' from ye, though." She saw my cock was erect and covered with a condom. "And I see ye already be ready to be after doin' it for me."

"Aye, Lassie, that I am." I got back on the bed and knelt between Moira's legs.

She reached down and spread her inner pussy lips. "Right there, me Bucko, is where I be after wantin' your big, hard tool."

"I be after wantin' it there too, me lovely Mavourneen." Supporting my weight on one hand and holding my cock with the other, I guided the tip into the beautiful pussy where it was wanted. Once the tip had entered, I gave a short push and two more inches wedged into the slippery but tight pussy.

"Oooo, yeah, like that," Moira murmured, forgetting her dialect again.

I leaned forward and moved my hands so they were on either side of Moira's shoulders and supporting the weight of my upper body. With a series of firm but gentle thrusts, each one eliciting happy cooing, my cock was entirely embedded in her pussy and I curled my arms under hers so I was leaning on my forearms. Moira spread her legs open a little more to wrap them around my hips and my cock entered her pussy another fraction of an inch. Her arms went around my neck and we kissed each other long and deep. When the kiss ended, I slowly backed my cock out of her pussy and then plunged it back in again. Moira cooed happily again and her arms and legs hugged me more tightly.

The second time I stroked my cock out and back into Moira, she fucked back to meet me, cooing again as my cock squeezed all the way into her tight pussy. "Ooo, I really love what your cock is doing for me, George. I'm really horny so fuck me good," she told me, with no hint of a brogue.

"I love your pussy; it's so tight and hot and wet," I responded, also omitting the "sures", the "begorrahs" and the "afters". We didn't really need any dialect to enjoy fucking each other.

Moira's pussy lubricated freely as we enjoyed fucking each other slowly for a long time. With all my weight supported by my forearms and knees, Moira was free to move around beneath me. She moved a lot; as the level of her pleasure slowly mounted, her head thrashed from side to side on her pillow and her body writhed under mine. Besides her pussy fucking back to meet the strokes of my cock, her hips were swiveling, thrusting her legs out beside me while she was rocking from side to side. Moira really enjoys making love with me and she is not at all hesitant to tell me, with no hint of brogue or Irish stage dialect in what she said.

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