Riding Irish

by Angelica Siren

  “Are you coming over or do I have to come get you,” I asked him with one eyebrow cocked.

  He blinked his eyes like he was remembering what exactly he was doing, and then stood up. I stared up at him as he removed his large black boots and set them aside. He descended the zipper on his jeans and in a moment, they fell to the ground around his ankles. He seemed almost shy suddenly. He still had his confident swagger about him, but he seemed almost unsure about whether to take the final plunge. I decided to help him make that decision and reached over to tug at the bottom of his boxer shorts. With a little help from him, they came tumbling down around his ankles as well. Now it was my turn to grin as I looked upon his large swollen member, hanging there in front of me like a piece of delicious overripe fruit.

  I could feel the heat emanating from between my legs as I stared up at his hardened body. I wanted nothing more than to leap out at him and drag him to the ground, forcing myself upon his swollen manhood. I restrained myself, knowing it would feel all the better if he came to me. I didn’t have to wait very long. He pounced on me like the great panther that he so resembled in my mind. I went from a relaxed and sexy pose to being prone beneath him. His powerful hands were pressed to either side of my shoulders, simultaneously holding him up and pinning me down. I could feel the warm pressure of his entire body pressing down against me, and the distinct sensation of his hard cock pressing between my legs.

  In one smooth movement, he reached down and took hold of his thick shaft, positioning the head of his cock against my wetness. I spread my legs wide, hugging them around his waist as he stared deeply into my eyes, searching for any signs of resistance. He found none – only my burning desire to feel him pressed deep inside me. He pushed himself against me and I let out a sharp gasp of pleasure. He swelled inside of me. The powerful heat that seemed to be pouring off his body mixed with the cool early morning air and I could see the steam rising off of him as he pushed himself against me. I wrapped my legs tightly around his body, digging my heel against his back.

  “Oh my god, yes, yes…” I said softly but sternly into his ear as he pressed his cheek against mine. His stubble felt rough and sharp against my skin and I begged him to take me.

  He reached a hand down, holding himself up with only one arm, and took my thigh in his powerful hand. With just that much leverage, he seemed to control my entire body. He thrust himself deep inside and I gasped again, as he pulled me towards him with one hand.

  I could see him better and better as the early morning sky began to lighten around us. The dark hairs on his face were beaded with sweat as he pumped himself into me over and over. With every thrust my body crushed against his, lighting new and more exciting fires within me.

  “Oh god, take me,” I demanded of him, “Make me yours. I want to be all yours.”

  This seemed to spur him to even greater feats of energy. His rhythmic thrusting became rampant as he repeatedly slammed himself into me. Within mere seconds of this treatment, I felt the powerful heat of an incredible orgasm growing within me. I concentrated on the feeling and arched myself forward so that every impact of his body was a rough pressure on my clit. I reached my hands around his body and pulled him in close with every thrust, aching to feel him even deeper inside of me.

  “Oh fuck,” I yelled, “Oh fuck! Oh my god, yes! Harder! Harder!”

  He complied with my every request and his thrusting became a rapid fire thunder between my legs, pounding into me like a jackhammer. I saw the sun break over the horizon behind him and it sent me spiraling into a fit of screaming and clenching that accompanied the most powerful orgasm I’d ever felt. As I came, it felt as though his body was controlling my every sensation. The waves of pleasure rolled through me and it was as if he was orchestrating the entire thing. With every subtle movement, he spurred me to greater sensations of pleasure.

  “Oh god! YES,” I cried out, desperate for more of his incredible technique, “I want to feel you come. I want you to come so fucking bad.”

  His movements slowed slightly and he found the rhythm that would carry him forth. Our bodies made a hard, wet, packing sound as they slapped together. Sweat rolled from his sculpted chest onto my breasts seamlessly. With his cock buried deep inside me, it felt as though we were becoming one incredible entity made entirely of pleasurable flesh. I felt his motions tense and he grunted loudly. I clenched myself around his thick manhood and screamed, “YES!”

  He exploded inside me with heat and wetness. It felt like a torrent that would never end, flooding inside of me. He continued to thrust again and again, spreading his cum across his shaft and over me as well. “Uhhh,” he grunted, “Oh, god, Cat.” He gave one finally thrust into me and collapsed atop me. His warm body pressed down against mine and inside of mine. After only a moment he pushed himself back up again, well aware that my small frame couldn’t support his muscular body for long.

  “You are magnificent,” he told me.

  I could only shake my head and giggle slightly. Conscious thought – let alone coherent speech – seemed impossible at that moment. I could scarcely believe what had just happened. The sun was rising behind him as he stared down at me, casting a golden shine across his body and mine. I finally managed to summon the willpower to speak a single word, but all I could come up with was, “Wow.”

  He rolled off to the side of me and only then seemed to notice the magnificent sunrise that had been occurring behind him. He put an arm around me and we watched it crest over the green hill, showering the area around us in rays of golden light. As the summer breeze wafted over our bodies, I couldn’t imagine a more beautiful morning in this country or any other.

  I should have been exhausted, but the thrill of what had just happened was still coursing through me. It was a good thing too because I could hardly afford to take a nap out here in some field. Ronan turned to face me.

  “Cat,” he said, “We best be getting’ back to Dublin. I’ve got to meet the lads, and if I remember correctly, ye’ve got a meeting at the bank this morning.”

  I suddenly got tense. I’d forgotten all about the bank, my grandmother’s house or even why I was here in Ireland. I quickly scrambled to gather my clothes and Ronan let out a short laugh.

  “It’s still plenty early, don’t rush yourself,” he said.

  I smiled back at him. He was right, and I wasn’t about to upset this tranquil morning, even if it meant I was late in getting back to the city.

  Once we were clothed once more – something that took every bit of restraint in my body, as I watched his firm muscles cloaked once more in layers of cotton and leather – we hopped on his bike and the engine roared to life. All the fear that I’d had about riding on his bike had vanished. The pressure of him between my legs and the vibration of the bike beneath us reminded me only of the tender passion we’d shared together. Every mile of road we traveled over was just one more beautiful memory.

  Chapter Three

  The long road back to Dublin wasn’t so long after all. I hadn’t really been aware of where we were going the previous night, but evidently Ronan had been driving us in circles through the night for some time, and we were only half an hour out from the city. I was glad for that much countryside at least, and couldn’t keep my eyes off the rolling green hills that surrounded us as we approached the city.

  As we drove onto Grey Lane, he turned back to me and let the bike coast so I could hear him. “Where’m I taking you, lass?”

  I giggled. He didn’t even know where I lived. I’d completely forgotten. I gave him the address at the end of Grey Lane and he revved the bike back up, no doubt annoying the Dubliners who were going about their morning rituals only to be rudely interrupted by a loud motorcycle outside their windows.

  We pulled up to the house and he gave it a long look.

  “My grandmother had a thing for decorating and landscaping,” I told him.

  He merely nodded. It was definitely not the kind of place bikers like h
im were used to spending time. I thought of the doilies that decorated the tables and tried to imagine the Druids so much as using coasters, but couldn’t quite picture it.

  “Ronan,” I started slowly, “I need to see you again.”

  He smiled back at me with a sparkle in his eye. “Don’t be worryin’ about that. You take care of your affairs and get some rest. Have a drink at the Hart tonight and I’ll try to make my way down there.”

  My heart bounced in my chest and I smiled like a teenage girl who’d just been asked to the prom. In the back of my mind I’d been worried that Ronan didn’t want anything more from me that one night of passionate lovemaking, but he was proving to be a far more complex man than I had originally given him credit for being. I hopped off the back of the bike and stepped close to him. I leaned in and gave him a kiss. I wanted it to be so much more. I wanted to get back on his bike and let him take me wherever the road would lead us, but I knew that would have to wait. Both of us had business to attend to.

  I pulled myself away from him and turned to walk towards my new home. I knew that if I were to turn back and see him sitting there, I’d run back to his arms and our goodbye would last forever. I kept putting one foot in front of the other and made it to the door. After I’d unlocked it and stepped inside I gave him a wave and closed the door behind me. I immediately went to the window in time to see him rev his bike and speed off down the road.

  “Tonight,” I said to myself.

  I spent the day groggily taking care of my duties with Mr. Carlisle from the bank. I sat in his office signing a seemingly endless series of forms. At first he explained each one in detail but eventually I convinced him that things would go a lot faster if he just told me where to sign. He asked if I was feeling a bit under the weather, and I explained that it was merely jet lag. It was a plausible excuse and he accepted it.

  After nearly an hour of paperwork, he said that would be all for the day and that he would send the forms off to the proper channels. Once they were taken care of there would be a few other final documents to sign, and that he would be in contact. I nodded sleepily at him and wandered out of the office. The bank was only half a mile from my new home and I set off down the street.

  When I got back, I wandered into the bedroom that had been my grandmothers. I barely managed to get my clothes off and get myself underneath the covers before I fell asleep. After the day I’d had, it was a wonder that I hadn’t fallen asleep in the bank office. The bed was warm and comfortable, and I didn’t even have time to worry about it not feeling quite like home.

  When I woke up, it was already 7 in the evening. I could see the last waning rays of sunlight through the window, and it reminded me of the sunrise I’d seen that morning. I grinned to myself and took account of how I was feeling. I was excited through and through to see Ronan again. I hoped that whatever business he was attending to that day wouldn’t keep him overly long. I was also famished, not having eaten in nearly a day.

  Before I could do anything though, I knew I needed a shower. I realized that I hadn’t taken one since back in Baltimore, and the time in between hard hardly been spent in sterile rooms.

  I stopped briefly at my luggage in the hallway to collect some body wash, a loofa and a bag of assorted toiletries. “That’ll do just fine,” I thought as turned down the hall leading to my new bathroom. This place was really starting to feel like home. I may not have spent much time in the house yet, but it has such a warm, inviting feeling that anyone could be comfortable here. I made my way to the shower and cranked it up. The old plumbing system seemed to be in good working order and hot water leapt from the shower head immediately. I stepped inside and smiled as the warmth of the water surrounded my entire body. I closed my eyes and stretched out a bit, trying to feel more like myself after a day of sleeping in after a passionate morning. I soaped up the loofa and got down to gently scrubbing away a day’s dust and grime. When my body was good and soapy, I stood still for a moment and then wiped the suds away with my bare hands.

  Not wanting to get out of the water quite yet, I decided to do a bit of maintenance. I took my razor and some shaving gel from the bag of toiletries and got to work. First I shaved under one arm, then the other. I put my foot up on the side of the tub and for a moment I was staring at my own leg in a way I can only describe as “lustily”. I was nearly giggling as I got to work. When I finished with both legs, I run my hands over them, admiring the smoothness. I wondered if Ronan had even noticed my legs. He must have. I watched as the water fell on my skin and dripped off in huge beads. I looked down and thought, “why not?” as I started removing the last patch of hair anywhere below my head. I started by shaving off the fiery red hairs on my mound before carefully gelling up to the sides of my labia and removing the hair there as well. I angled my body so the shower sprayed right onto my pussy, quickly washing away the remaining traces of foam and stray hairs. I closed my eyes once more and marveled at the sensation of the warm water pounding against me. My fingers instinctively went to my clit and I started massaging myself, first in slow, wide trails. Soon I had just my middle finger pressed against my clit, furiously rubbing in circular motions. My other hand moved across my body, feeling the silky wetness of a shower in progress. I concentrated only on the intense, warm feelings as I pulled myself closer and closer to climax. My circular motions give way to a harder, more intense pressure directly on my clit. I’m pushing upwards, letting the lips of my fingers faintly rub against my labia. I can feel myself ready to come and I begin to yell it. “Oh fuck I’m gonna’ come”, I shout. “Yeah, more, more, fuck yes, yes, do it, come on”. My hand is completely rigid now, furiously rubbing. “Fuck! Fuck! I’m coming! Ronan! I’m coming!” I scream as the orgasm tears through my body.

  It’s over far too quickly. I raised my fingers to my mouth to get a brief taste of my own juices before rinsing my hand and grabbing the loofa to get my pussy cleaned up. It felt great, and was a good way to way myself up after sleeping the day away. I exited the shower and realized I’d forgotten to bring any of my towels into the bathroom yet. I shrugged, tried to wick away a bit of the water on my skin and walk straight to the bedroom. It took a bit of rummaging to find a clean towel, but finally I locate one and dried myself off, marveling at what I a good shaving job I did, despite the quick effort and my groggy demeanor. I tossed the towel aside and moved to another piece of luggage, to find something to wear for the day. After five minutes of digging, I hadn’t yet found anything appropriate. I hadn’t done a very good job of packing and my clothes are seemingly split between every bag I brought.

  Eventually I gathered together a pair of black jeans, a tight black t-shirt and the closest thing to a motorcycle jacket that I owned – it was thin and if you weren’t looking too closely or feeling it with your hand, you might think it was made of leather. At least it had a few zippers on it. I wondered if Ronan would think I was mocking his lifestyle somehow with an outfit like this, but I doubted it. More likely he’d be amused that I even tried. I slipped on my boots and stood before the mirror, brushing my long hair out.

  Ronan thought I was a real Irish beauty, and I had to admit that when I tried, I really looked the part. My hair was as red as it gets without using something from a bottle, and I had never had any complaints about my proportions. What counted was that Ronan thought I was beautiful. I certainly thought he was amazing, and when two people are as hot for one another as we were, there’s nothing that can keep them apart.

  I checked my phone and saw that it was already getting close to seven o’clock. I needed to get some dinner along with my drink, much as I had the night before. Part of me wanted to explore further down Grey Lane before stopping at the Bleeding Hart as I’d told Ronan I would, but I had another reason for heading to the one Irish place I’d already been – I wanted more information.

  That bartender certainly seemed to know what was going on, and he was friendly enough to me before they’d arrived. I figured my best bet for ge
tting some background on Ronan and the Druids would be from him. I was falling hard for Ronan, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t still cautious about his line of work.

  I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder before heading out the door. It had turned into a wet, cold summer day in Dublin. After yesterday’s magnificent warmth, I could only imagine that whatever gods controlled the Irish weather had decided we were in for at least a week of dreary conditions. I was plenty used to the weather on the East coast, and Dublin’s wet conditions were hardly a shock to my system.

  I started out down Grey Lane at a brisker pace than I’d traversed it the night before. I couldn’t help myself. I was in a hurry to make my way to the Bleeding Hart so I could pose my questions – and get my dinner – before Ronan arrived as he’d said. For all I knew he could be there already, and I’d just have to leave without having my curiosities about him satisfied for now.

  As I approached the pub, I felt a sense of relief. At first, I was worried he might be inside, but then I noticed the distinct lack of any motorcycles parked outside, and realized that he certainly wouldn’t be travelling on foot. I stepped into the pub and it felt refreshingly familiar. The same bar stool I’d sat on the previous night was empty and so I made my way down to it. The idea of being a ‘regular’ in an Irish pub appealed to me greatly, and that all starts with sitting in a familiar place.

  Bernard the bartender was busy cleaning glasses, but he set down his work to come over when he saw me.

  “Evenin’, lass,” he said to me, “What’ll it be?”

  “I could use a bit of dinner and a pint, thanks.”

  He smiled at me and went about pouring my pint. I’d never been much of a drinker but I got the feeling that while I was in Ireland, I had better get used to having beer with every meal. He set the beer down in front of me and lingered for a moment.