As the sister of Bearach Candlestick O’Floinn says of him, “The old scuttered fool thinks he’s never drunk so long as he can hold onto one blade of grass to keep him from falling off the Earth.”
He, for his part, prides himself in his ability to hold his drink. Many a time he had suggested to his sister that, “there’s an awful drout on me,” but it falls on deaf ears. To him the sour puss had no sense at all.
Tumbling into a ditch, the worse for drink, and lying there stupefied all night long is not recommended to anyone but is something Bearach Candlestick O’Floinn has managed to do more than once in his ninety-eight years. The most recent of these happenings was the most unwise, not because it was winter and wet and cold leading him to catch a chill, given it was high summer, but because he got caught. Yes, not a good thing for a leprechaun as I am sure you know.
The morning was well advanced when the leprechaun stirred. First one eye and then the other opened in his wizened little face. The light was uncommon fierce, or so it seemed to him, and he squinted trying to get his eyes to focus before sitting up and looking over the edge of the ditch to see what the world had come to since the previous night. His head was throbbing and he felt none too well. A day for quietness and reflection mostly asleep in a haystack, if possible.
Now Ireland is a fine country indeed and a fine one to go rambling but it is best, I should warn you, to take your waterproofs whatever the season: though that day was a glorious one to take to the road, or path, and people were out and about. Unfortunately for Bearach two young men from the big town were passing along the track just as he popped his head over the edge of the ditch.
“What’s that, Declan?” said one.
And before Bearach could nip off down the ditch he was held firmly by the two young men.
“Looks like a grubby little leprechaun to me,” said the one called Declan.
“Old too,” said the other.
“Well, I wasn’t a believing one, but three foot tall and dressed like that; look here’s its hat.”
“He’s got to lead us to his crock o’ gold now hasn’t he? And at his age it must be quite a full one.”
There was, as you might expect, a lot of wriggling from Bearach Candlestick O’Floinn. This was not good, Bearach counted himself as wily as any leprechaun this side of the country and he had never been caught before—if you don’t count the night in the village lock-up in ‘55 but that had been simply a misunderstanding with the constabulary, particularly one PC Donnelly who is still living to regret the incident even though now in his seventies. Every year on the very anniversary of that night he would come downstairs in the morning to find all the furniture in the house re-arranged and nothing at all in its place. He’d tried staying up one year with a heavy blackthorn cudgel or shillelagh on his lap but eventually had fallen asleep in his armchair in his sitting room only to wake up, in the very same armchair, in the kitchen with the coal scuttle boiling away merrily on the stove, his tobacco in the sugar bowl and the mantelpiece clock ticking away to itself in the pantry.
But Bearach was caught and held tightly now. He began.
“Can’t find it today, if of course I was a leprechaun which I’m not, just a little old man from Ballymageogh who lost my way last night a coming back from the inn. Perhaps we could go there now and I could buy you good gentlemen a pint of the black stuff in gratitude for pulling me out of the ditch. My legs are not as what they were.”
The young men were having none of that. “Can’t find it today, not likely you’ve forgotten where it is.”
Bearach tried again.
“Everyone knows a leprechaun keeps his crock at the end of the rainbow but, alas, there’s not a cloud in the sky so, what a shame, no chance of a rainbow. Better come back tomorrow. I’ll be here...”
“Do you think we’re stupid? Rainbows don’t come to ground; they’re just optical illusions, not real.”
Bearach smiled as if he knew something more than they did.
“Now old man, you know the rules. We’ve caught you and you have to lead us to your crock o’ gold.”
There was grumbling but they plant his hat on his head and Bearach sets off still held very tightly. He was in a bit of a fix I can tell you. As they walked his head begins to clear a little but he hasn’t a plan—yet. He did not take kindly to being frogmarched or to being caught at all. I am not sure which he was more cross about – allowing himself to be caught or actually being in a state of having been caught. The thought of what his sister might say – might say repetitively for the next few decades – came to mind. It was not a good thought.
Now, as I said, Bearach hadn’t a plan but he was always ready to seize a chance and his eyes being good (now the double vision had cleared) he espied a group of walkers far ahead and as they get closer a grin begins to form, just a hint of one at first but gradually it grows to a gull’s wing.
“Would you mind,” he said, “if I stopped for a piss. Only I drank a fair bit last night and I’m bursting to be rid.”
Well Declan and Amery can hardly say no, but, suspecting a trick, for the leprechaun are famous for that, they let him stand facing a bush and hold tight to one arm and a shoulder. Of course they are not to know about Bearach Candlestick O’Floinn’s magic wand and the mischief he can do with that in his hand and I don’t just mean to the wans.
As he stands there, the young men kept a tight hold on Bearach and, rather than look at him, watch the party of walkers coming towards them along the river bank. Being young men it was not long before they notice, what Bearach noticed somewhat earlier, that the party is made up of women and being men they run their eyes over them and the closer they get the more they like what they see; almost as if the closer the women got the more attractive they seemed to become, perhaps due to the light.
“Are you finished?” And they pulled Bearach back onto the path in the direction of the girls.
I don’t know as you’ve seen the like but the young men hadn’t, five really stunning girls each with long golden hair kitted out with day packs, boots, various colours of shorts (and some quite short at that) and tee shirts—for it was a hot day. They seemed minded to stop and chat which naturally the young men were not adverse to, liking to talk to pretty wans. The girls did not seem to particularly notice or comment on the rather unusual little man the young men were holding tight, as if it was an everyday occurrence to see a leprechaun being closely escorted. That was peculiar, you will think, but the young men were too taken with the girls to notice.
“It’s very hot,” said one of the girls after a time and there was general agreement leading to rather longing looks at the cool river flowing by, looking invitingly cool and its soft water pleasant to slip into.
“We could swim,” said one, “if only we had the things.”
There followed a discussion about swimming in underwear leading to the idea that it was silly to get those things wet, they often become less than opaque when wet in any case, and there was no need for towels as they would dry easily in the sun.
“No need to be worried about the boys as we outnumber them more than two to one anyway.”
“They have more need to be frightened of us,” giggled another.
You can imagine old Bearach grinning away at this exchange, that wide smile of his stretching his scratchy grey whiskers. He could have mentioned that if they were at all worried at mixed bathing the two sexes could have gone their separate ways and bathed alone. He could have mentioned that, but there was perhaps just the chance he had something to do with all of this talk and ideas. Perhaps he had played one of his little tricks with their thoughts, put ideas in their heads with a little magic from his wand.
The idea was attractive but the young men did not want to lose their prize, their very own caught leprechaun, they were trapped between avarice and lust—a difficult place to be. The solution seemed to lie with the tying up of Bearach to a small tree with their belts. He was held tight all right, wrapped round and round with two stout leather belts and buckled in. He could not move up or down but at least they had put him on the river side of the tree so he did not miss the likely frolics and they could keep the necessary eye on him.
It is one thing to suggest the skinny dipping but another who goes first. Bearach waited to see. There was talk of ladies first but the girls suggested this was an exception and got their way. There was a lot of giggling and pointing but certainly these young men had no need to be embarrassed about their bodies and that was the gist of one or two of the comments from the wans.
Of course once the boys were in, and having swum a bit, there was great enthusiasm on their part for the girls to get in and, after a bit of encouragement, the boys had the pleasure of watching, not too obviously, the removal of tee shirts and bras, with the consequent bouncing into view of no less than ten breasts of varying sizes and shapes not, you will understand that they did not think the backs and tummies worth the looking. Naturally the unzipping of flies and the opening of shorts was of especial interest but, as one, the girls turned from the river obscuring the front view though, it has to be said, there is much to be said for the sight of a row of five female bottoms all jiggling and round, not least bending over to drop clothes in piles. The nature of water to hide what is beneath the surface was perhaps a benefit to the young men as it is easy to imagine a reactive swelling occurring in response to the girls’ stripping. I suppose it would have been possible for the girls to have backed into the water but not very easy and so they had to turn and, with some modesty, holding a discrete hand across their lower parts, the girls entered the water but you can imagine the half-hearted attempt at modesty was more exciting to the boys than a matter-of-fact walking straight into the water would have been.
You will appreciate that Bearach Candlestick O’Floinn had a different and closer perspective of the disrobing, tied as he was to the young tree, and he smiled and nodded to the women in a pleasant manner—not that they took much notice of the strange little old man.
A jolly time was had by all swimming and splashing around in the cool clear water. Nothing overtly sexual but the lack of swimming things was not forgotten by any of the seven, not counting Bearach Candlestick O’Floinn who remained well tied up to the tree.
Whilst it is a pleasing idea to swim on a hot day no one would accuse the rivers of Ireland of being excessively warm and it was not surprising that when the young men, feeling sufficiently cooled, climbed out of the river that their genitalia had quite shrivelled up. You will know the effect yourself, of course, the tightening of the scrotum hauling the old bollocks up close to the body and the shrinking away of the willy to quite boy-like proportions.
Once again this produced mirth from the girls with yet more pointing as they too left the water.
“Nothing there to threaten us with at all, is there girls?” Said one to much laughter.
“Just little boys.” Replied another.
“Looks like they’ve been gelded, more’s the pity.” Said another a bit more saucily.
“Poor things, they need putting away somewhere warm and cosy!” That produced a lot of laughter from the women.
Despite the sun they were all a little cold and the girls started one by one to jump up and down to get dry. Well, you can imagine even in their shrivelled state what the effect of ten bouncing breasts was on the young men’s willies. Yes indeed, they began to grow and this delighted and amused the girls who began to be more provocative in their movements to encourage the phenomenon. The effect was inevitable and not only did the penises elongate but they began to rise past the horizontal and up to attention. Now the erect penis is, sad to relate to men who think it is a sight to inspire awe and wonder in women, rather more a matter of amusement to the fair sex, notwithstanding its great utility to them and the subject of desire. This was accentuated in the five women by the effect of the cold water and the resultant rather misshapen erections it caused, for whilst the heads expanded as usual, the shafts remained rather shrunken and thin so the penises seemed crowned by overly large domes giving a mushroom shaped appearance to the whole affairs.
“Look at this,” said one of the girls, bolder than the others and she took one of the cocks in hand, “are there any balls at all?” She could just about feel them in their drawn up, wrinkled cold sack. “Poor thing, it needs warming up.”
Well I think the other women were a bit shocked, and I’m sure Declan was because she dropped to her knees and in one movement had the rounded head of his cock in her mouth. Yes, can you imagine it, kneeling there naked on the river bank with all her friends watching her and sucking on this young man’s cock. Well I’m sure that warmed it up!
Shocked yes, but jealous and it was not many moments before one of the remaining four women took the lead from her friend and had Amery’s penis in her mouth, restoring its shape and vitality—a generous hearted thing to do.
Can you think that Declan and Amery were likely to forget hearing the remaining three girls clamouring for “their turn?” Or the experience of five stunning girls one after another (for they all ‘had a go’ at each of the cocks) sucking them. Well fair is fair and one good turn deserves another and before long the scene shifted to one of naked male bottoms in the air but not, as perhaps you were imagining, with gluteal muscles flexing as they pushed cocks in and out of wet vaginas—that was to come—but instead the boys were face down tiring their tongues out in the aforementioned wet items. Yes, the women were lined up on the river bank in a row on their backs, thighs wide open to the sun as the young men came along the line kneeling and performing cunnilingus on one woman after another in series with further cries of “my turn,” if they did not change places quick enough.
Meanwhile, back at his tree, old Bearach was feeling a lot more content with the world. Oh yes, he was still tied up but had a little movement in one hand and was very close to having freed his magic wand and what with all the jollity down there on the river bank it was feeling very magic indeed.
It is difficult to think what a passerby would have thought and so it is lucky there weren’t any; what with the interesting tangle of bodies, for the women were keen to try both men for size and were careful to take their fair turn and this was easiest riding ‘cowboy’ or is it ‘cowgirl?’ So the men were soon on their backs and were successively mounted and ridden.
Of course, you are thinking, it was not like old Bearach to miss the opportunity of tupping young ladies and of course at ninety-eight, most women are young to him and, you see I don’t like to disappoint, he did choose and have the youngest of the ladies and at forty-five she was quite young compared to his great age. Five women is a lot for two young men to deal with, two each is probably more than enough given, once spent, even the youngest cock takes some time to recover its potency and strength—and it is very easy to spend too soon! Two each leaves one free, and Bearach made himself very free I gather. But I get ahead of myself.
The magic of the leprechaun is interesting and slightly peculiar perhaps not more so than with Bearach Candlestick O’Floinn for, with his magic wand now in his hand he began to shrink, yes he became smaller, and of course the smaller he got the looser the belts became and it wasn’t long before he could simply slip out from between the encircling belts and stretch. Free now he began to grow again. A sensible leprechaun might well have fecked off quick but old Bearach’s wand was up and he was minded, feeling a lot better than when he had started the day, to take advantage of the pleasing sight around him and the generous supply of women. Declan and co. were somewhat engaged and paying him no attention, indeed what with one woman impaled and another settling herself for some tongue work it was not that easy for the young men to see what Bearach was up to.
Laying his clothes to one side Bearach raised his cocked hat in a gentlemanly fashion and asked the currently unengaged lady,
Perhaps she hadn’t noticed himself before but the slight bow and politeness from the small aged man must have overcome any reluctance on her part though, it may have been the effect of his magic wand both as to its magic and its impressive proportions—quite outsize for his small frame (or so it is said, though I think by Bearach Candlestick O’Floinn).
I rather doubt he took her in the missionary position or let her ride him cowboy, I’m sure he had one eye on the young men in case they should suddenly, unlikely as it was given their involvement with the other women, notice his freedom and seek to apprehend him once more. More likely he approached from behind with her on all fours allowing a speedy departure should he suddenly need to make himself scarce and, of course, a very pleasant and soft connection with easy access to play with hanging titties. All quite excellent I should think.
All good things come to an end and more particularly young men have to come. Perhaps Bearach had given them extra staying power; I rather think so as he had his own business to conclude with the chosen lady. No doubt the young men’s coming was uncommon fierce, I doubt Bearach would have, despite their rough imprisoning of him, allowed otherwise. He can be very generous... but not with the gold.
It was only then that Declan and Amery remembered their find, their find who should be tied to a tree. Instead of being tied to a tree, there he was casually finishing dressing, pulling on his red jacket, adjusting his ruff, buckling his shoes. He gave them a cheery wave and started to walk away; well, you can imagine, they went running after him as naked as the day they were born but as they ran the little man seemed to be getting smaller and smaller and, turning to raise his cocked hat to them, he walked right down a rabbit hole and they did not see him again.
The gold was the girls’ hair but it was fool’s gold for all that. Declan and Amery missed out on walking off with one of the best crocks o’gold held by a leprechaun east of Kerry—or so Bearach Candlestick O’Floinn would have us believe and, you never know, perhaps its true; yet I do wonder how he has acquired it—certainly not by good honest hard work his sister would vouch. She is wont, after all, to refer to him as a worthless, lazy, conniving, scuttered old fool who never did an honest day’s work in his life—and that when she is feeling quite pleasantly disposed towards her elder brother. Still, none would deny, except perhaps she, that Bearach Candlestick O’Floinn is a cute hoor.
The young men could have reached the gold but instead thought with their trousers. I suppose it cannot have been that Bearach’s magic left them unaffected but they should have been on their guard against a leprechaun’s tricks and should have thought it just a little bit surprising that, then of all days, five of the most beautiful women they had ever seen should fall over themselves to please them. In truth they made a right hames of it but, no doubt, they enjoyed themselves and good for them if they savour the memory for many a day but the gold would have lasted a good deal longer in a more concrete way. I can vouch, though, for the pleasurable memory the women have of the day for I have spoken to more than one about the fun they, the local Senior Ladies Rambling Club, had with two young men one summer’s day. Appearances, you see, are deceiving when Bearach Candlestick O’Floinn is around.