Free for St. Patrick's Day Weekend.
Authors: Anonymous (Pseud.)
If it could talk, Gaelan House would never condemn its inhabitants for their casual copulations, their periods of intense love making, or even their orgies reeking of hot, primitive lust, for those inhabitants were descendants of the House's builder -- a man to whom lust and sexual gratification was not only a way of life but almost a religion.
That man was RORY SEAN GAELEAN!
And if sex was a religion for Rory, he worshipped at its shrine daily.
“Rose told me you go to the University,” she whispered after a while.
Rory nodded. “I graduate this year.” He was glad she had started a
conversation for he wanted to prolong their time together. Normally he
returned to the Flemming's from a visit to the Wild Boar around
midnight, but tonight was different. Etna was something special and he
had no reason to hurry.
“You have been widowed for two years?” he asked to keep the
conversation going, though suddenly realizing it was not going very
Now it was her turn to nod. “Arnie was caught in a cave-in with
“Rebecca Daugherty, a distant kinswoman of mine, has also been a
widow for two years. Her husband was lost at sea—on the Scotia.”
“I remember that. 'Twas on a voyage to the New World, I believe.”
“Aye. Probably a storm at sea.”
They lay in silence for a time, then she lifted one of her legs
across his and put her hand down between them, grasped his prick and
maneuvered her straddle against it until the bald knob separated the
top of her cleft. Her breathing became audible when the knob pressed
against the firm little nub of her clitoris and Rory knew there would
be very little more talking between them, if any.
“Ayeee,” she breathed softly. “'Tis a marvel you are, Rory Gaelean.”
Rory did not answer. Instead, he pushed her gently to her back and
mounted into the saddle formed by her raised, separated thighs.
“This time let me,” she said, and he felt both her hands take his
prick this time, pulling him toward her and guiding him, not removing
her hands until his glans popped inside. She gave a soundless scream at
this. A tremor shook her while he gyrated his hips in small circles and
applied pressure, his penis boring through her greedy cunt into the hot
moistness of her sex-hungry body.
“Oh my god!” she sobbed desperately and Rory, his head buried against
her shoulder, smiled to himself.
What a night this would be to remember.