tagHumor & SatireLuck of the Irish

Luck of the Irish


Lucy sprawled restlessly across the rumpled sheets of the bed, the sheets thrown aside in the balmy still air of the summery July night. Beside her, her husband Ralph snored contently, occasional fumes of Guinness drifting towards her. She wrinkled her nose, disgusted, then tried to rearrange her naked limbs into a more comfortable sleeping position, to no avail.

This was the third night of their supposed romantic getaway week to Limerick Country, Ireland. She had been pleasantly surprised at Ralph's eager acceptance of the proposed holiday, to mark their 10th wedding anniversary. It was the first time they'd left their two children behind for more than a night, entrusting them to their much loved aunty, Ralph's younger sister. And Ralph had even shown interest in the brochures she'd brought home, enthusing over the photos of narrow cobbled streets, the stone-walled villages, the lush green hillsides. So plans had been made, and no, here they were.

They'd had a pleasant few days, touring in the rental car, visiting ancient churches and castles, strolling through the countryside. And the bed-and-breakfast they'd chosen was delightful, full of character , the room pleasant and comfortable. About all that Lucy had no complaints.

It was the nights that left much to be desired. Unfortunately for Lucy, a principal attraction of Ireland for Ralph was the beer. Dark, strong, heady- it seemed that each day, from early evening onwards, he had a single mission -- to drink as much Irish ale as he could find. Mr and Mrs O'Leary, the proprietor's of the bed-and-breakfast, did little to discourage him.

"Its grand to see a man who likes his pint," said Mrs O'Learly on the first evening, after Ralph had joined Mr O'Leary in knocking back several at the small cozy bar off the foyer. And from then on the two men spent their evenings drinking their way through as much of Ireland's breweries' output as they could manage. Lucy would have a glass of wine with them, before retreating to their room in solitude, only her book for company.

When Ralph stumbled into the room late in the night, and collapsed into bed (fully clothed, on the second evening), he showed very little inclination for more romantic pursuits, much to Lucy's disappointment and dismay.

That evening she had coaxed him up to the room a little earlier, gently suggesting that he might like to save some of his vigour for her, rather than the pint glasses.

Despite her seductive suggestions, he had kept Mr O'Leary company at the bar for a couple of hours, and although he wasn't quite as bleary-eyed as the previous nights, his performance had been less than optimal.

Lucy had waited patiently, dressed only in her sexiest, see-through-est negligee, and had reclined languidly on the bed when he came in.

"Hello sailor," she had murmured huskily, pushing her breasts together to maximize her cleavage for him.

"Hi," he muttered, not looking at her, but heading straight for the en-suite where he pissed long and noisily.

"Oh, I wish someone would at least notice my body," she had muttered to herself.

Nonetheless, he had returned to bed soon, and she soon went to work on him, kissing his neck, brushing her breasts against his chest. When she had reached down for his cock, it was hardish, and swelled more as she stroked it with her hand. She had slid down the bed, kissing his balls, licking up the shaft, taking the crimson bulb into her mouth. Soon he was fully erect, and had stroked her hair, making small moans of pleasure as she sucked.

She had straddled him, guiding his cock between her warm, moist lips, and had lowered herself onto him.

And then, just as she began riding his pole, he had gasped, his eyes had rolled back, and his mouth opened, and she had felt the warm flood of his semen inside her.

Soon he was snoring contently, and she lay, unfulfilled, unsatisfied, her libidinous expectations raised, then dashed, and left soggily oozing her husband's spent spunk on to the disheveled sheets.

"Oh, I wish I could have a decent screw, for once," she murmured to herself, and rolled onto her side to doze off.


Through the dreamy haze of sleep Lucy was aware of some movement, some small sounds, a high pitched stifled giggle. She opened her eyes, and blinked twice, not believing what she saw. In the low light of the room, to her amazement, was a tiny man, about three feet tall, with a long beard, wearing nothing but a green top-hat with a large gold buckle.

"Shhhh..." he whispered, winking and grinning.

Beside her Ralph snored on obliviously.

The little man was by no means tiny in all respects. His long pointy beard formed an arrow drawing her eye down his chest, to the disproportionately large organ rising from his groin. Indeed, his member would have been large on a full-sized man, and it was fully distended, jutting out at 45 degree angle to point up towards her.

He stepped towards her, and in broad brogue murmured, "You gotta be careful what you wish for here in Ireland, Lucy... it just might come true..."

"Are you a... a ... leprechaun?" she gasped.

The little naked man took a small sort of skipping bow, and nodded.

"Paddy Fitzgerald's the name," he announced, doffing his large green hat.

"But leprechauns... don't exist..." she whispered.

"Some do, some don't," he agreed, "Now, let's see about your pot o'gold..."

In a flash he was up on the bed beside her, his hands delving between her thighs.

"What a cracking body you have here, Lucy," he wondered, looking her up and down lasciviously, "What a wondrous pair of knockers!"

He buried his face in her bosom.

" Oh my," Lucy gasped, glancing at her husband, who slept on. "This is wrong... we shouldn't..."

But her thighs, with a mind of their own, parted to the leprechaun's caresses, and he grinned up at her.

"If leprechaun's don't exist, to be sure, and I happen to be a leprechaun, then I don't exist, and what's the harm in having some fun with a non-existing fellow?" he whispered, spreading her vulva and circling her clitoris with a deft hand.

Lucy had to agree with this faultless logic, and gave herself over to his expert ministrations.

He gazed admiringly at the folds of labia, framed by her dark damp curls, as he stroked and probed.

"Now that's a gorgeous quim if I ever saw one, to be sure," he enthused, and if in agreement, his cock throbbed, growing even larger.

Lucy reached down for it, gripping the hard shaft in her fist, and Paddy grinned and winked.

"Now Murphy would love to see such a lovely quim as this, to be sure," he said, matching the rhythm of her strokes on his cock with a thrusting finger into her vagina, "You don't mind, do you?"

Lucy nodded, her body given over to the attention that it had been so deprived of.

Paddy pursed his lips and whistled, two short shrill chirps.

Ralph muttered in his sleep and rolled over, and Lucy froze, holding her breath, but Paddy continued to tease her nether parts, and Ralph's snores recommenced. She opened her thighs wider, and closed her eyes.

"Just look at this quim! Did you ever see such a one?" Paddy's whisper penetrated her rapturous trance, and she opened her eyes again.

Standing beside her bed, and looking with rapt interest at her exposed pudenda, was another little man, of the same stature as Paddy, but rather younger, with a shorter orange beard, and dressed in a green suit, a similar green hat on his head.

"Oh gorgeous, to be sure," the second leprechaun agreed, and grinned and winked at Lucy.

"A grand, grand pleasure to meet you, ma'am," he said, tipping his hat, "Murphy O'Mulligan's the name. I do hope my good friend Paddy's helping your wish come true."

"The thing about Murphy," Paddy exclaimed, as he flicked her clitoris, sending waves of pleasure through her body, "Is he might not be much to look at, but his, erm, equipment is king sized... go on, show her, young Murph."

In a blink of an eye Murphy was naked, his clothes in a crumpled heap on the floor, and his cock, his magnificent cock, jutted out in front of him. It was massive. It made Paddy's rather very large cock seem unimpressive.

Murphy grinned and blushed, and Lucy reached towards him, eager to take hold of his splendid pole.

Needing no encouragement, the little chap leapt onto the bed, and positioned himself beside her head on the pillow. His companion, down below, plunged his face into Lucy's minge, greedily lapping and slurping at her plentiful juice. Luc moaned, and opened her mouth wide, straining her lips to encompass Murphy's dick in her mouth.

"Oh, grand, oh grand!" the leprechaun crowed, rocking his hips towards her, his bulbous knob pulsing across her tongue towards the back of her throat. "C'mon, Paddy, git yer wee john-thomas inside that splendiferous quim!"

Paddy, quick as a twinkling eye, leapt into position, holding his tumescent organ in both his hands, touching the bulbous end to against her wet and greedy opening. Lucy spread her legs wide, and he plunged, his shaft filling her.

"Oh, that feels grand, just grand that quim!" he sang out.

Lucy moaned, her mouth full of Murphy, her vagina filled with Paddy, and she felt her orgasm build.

She sucked harder, pulling the little man's hips towards her with one arm, while the other reached around his friend, pulling him deeper into her vagina.

"I think she's near her pot o'gold!" Paddy called out," c'mon, Murph, my fellow, switcheroo!"

Suddenly, her mouth and her snatch were emptied, and the two little men scampered around the bed.

In a trice, Paddy's penis, glistening with her lubrication, was beside her face, crimson, swollen and pulsing. She kissed it hungrily as kissed breasts, his hands pumping at his shaft.

She glanced down to Murph, who was gazing between her thighs appreciatively, his cock thrust up proudly to his chin level.

"What a fine quim,to be sure1" he sighed, and then holding his member in both hands like a sword, took a small skipping run-up, and plumbed her depths.

"Oh!" Lucy gasped, as he thrust into her, seeming to fill her entirely, sending every nerve jangling with ecstasy.

"Aaaah!" she groaned as her orgasm built up inside her.

"There you go!" Paddy cried in encouragement, and his cock pulsed in his hands. Lucy kissed it, running her tongue under the crown, and a gush of hot semen flooded out over her mouth. Paddy directed the spurt over her breasts, and as the hot flow spilled over her nipples another wave of orgasm engulfed her.

"There ye have it!" Murphy sang out, and he thrust deeper than ever, and then withdrew his voluminous dong with a resonant pop. His cock too began to gush, and almighty hot, white jet that he aimed directly over her clitoris, flooding her dark wet public curls with thick creamy jism.

Lucy's body convulsed in pleasure, and the two men grinned happily, first at her, then at each other.

"That's a thoroughly satisfied customer, Paddy my mate," Murphy said.

"To be sure... to be sure," Paddy agreed.

With a wink and a skip the two leprechauns left the bed, and soon were buttoning their green suits and donning their green caps.

"G'night, to you, Lucy," Paddy smiled.

"And welcome to Ireland," Murphy beamed.

And the two men vanished through the window, Lucy still breathless from the orgasm, her body sodden and sticky with her and their copious emissions. As the two green figures receded she heard Murphy's voice: "What a magnificent quim!"

Exhausted, Ralph still snoring beside her obliviously, Lucy sank back into her pillow and closed her eyes.

As she drifted into a restful sleep, she murmured to herself, "I wish Ralph was more like those leprechauns..."


To be continued?

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