Monday, March 17, 2014

The Naughty Leprechaun

I hope you enjoy this saucy little original tale starring Viviana and Alain. Please be advised that this post is NSFW. Enjoy! 

      



            I could sense him staring at me. Even in the packed bar, with all manner of flesh being pressed tightly to me, I could feel those hazel eyes resting on me. I, of course, ignored him. Not that I was hoping to punish him, per say, but he had been rather truculent about coming out at all. Don`t get me wrong, I enjoy staying home. I also enjoy the nightlife.

            Alain would be perfectly content to remain in our studio apartment, with the dogs, cuddled on the couch. And yes, I know, that sounds dreamy, and it is. If this party were not a fundraiser I would have been mollified by him into staying home. He has the most delightful ways of making me see his side of things. But not tonight. This St. Patrick`s Day bash at the Black Boar was making money for Veikko Aho`s Seven Days Foundation, an organization that gives terminally ill children the chance to spend up to a week with their favorite players. There were Wildcats, as well as other Philadelphia sports personas, in every nook and cranny of the building.

             The cash was coming in hand over fist. All sales of food and drink were being donated to the cause. Tickets to enter the sports bar sold for five hundred dollars each. The press were everywhere. Which was why my lover was hiding in the corner, his blue-green eyes locked on me as I schmoozed. When I could stand it no longer, I thanked the mayor for coming by then wiggled through the crush to Alain. He filed out his tuxedo to perfection. I ran my eyes over him. He cocked a dark eyebrow then took a sip of his cranberry juice on the rocks.
           
            "Enjoying yourself?" he asked. I nodded. His sight roamed over me slowly. I popped out a hip. The sequined emerald green gown slithered off my hip, showing him bare leg from toe to upper thigh. He took a quick sip of cranberry.

            "Are you?" I asked. He shook his head. One stray black curl fell over his left eye. I reached up to push it back. "You`re doing really well. I know how you hate all of this," I said as I ran my fingers through his hair. It bounced back making darling flips at the ends.

            "I know it is important, the charity does much good, but these press people. They don`t care about Seven Days, not like Veikko does, or the rest of the team. They are here only to snoop. To take pictures and spread lies. Pah! I would gladly pay Veikko the cash he makes here with this bullshit media frenzy then have to see one more flashbulb go off in my face!"

            "Why don`t we step outside?" I slid my arm through his. "We can go sit in the car and sip on your juice."

            "There are other things I would rather sip on," he said. I smiled up at him as he ogled my cleavage. There was plenty to ogle. I feared he might not let me wear the gown it was so daring, but he did. He didn`t like other men eying my bounty, but he was learning to dampen his possessiveness. That is one of many positive things about younger men. They aren`t so damned set in their ways. They can be led to a more rational behavior and mindset easier than a man in his thirties or forties can be.

            I blew him a kiss. We made our way slowly through the mob. Irish songs were being sung by off-key patrons on the small stage. Green beer was being drunk in amazing quantities. The aroma of mouthwatering corned beef and cabbage clung to the overheated air. Veikko shouted something at us as we snuck out. Alain waved at the goalie. I ducked under his arm then ran smack dab into the coldest air I have ever felt this side of an iceberg.

            "Where is your wrap?" Alain asked, his voice losing that hateful tone as soon as he closed the door on the party. He pulled me close.

            "Back at our table. At least I have my purse," I said holding the small clutch over all that boob about to fall from my gown.

            Alain hurried me along. He got me tucked into the Porsche then ran around the back of the car. I giggled when he tumbled into the car, his long muscular legs getting tangled in his rush. Once he had his door closed, he cranked the car over. My arms were folded over my chest. My teeth were chattering. Cold air blew out of the heater.

            "Sorry, Viviana, she is as cold as you are." Alain peeled his jacket off then draped it over my bare shoulders. The hot smell of his cologne mixed with him rolled out of the fine fabric. I pulled the jacket closed then snuggled into it. "You want to get her hot faster?"

            "I do love it when you ask a question like that." He winked at me, threw the Cayenne into reverse, then peeled out of the parking lot. My jaw dropped to my chest. "Alain!" I barked, letting the coat fall from my mouth and nose. "We are not leaving that party! My wrap is back there. And you promised Veikko that you`d be there."

            "I was there. Now, I am leaving." The Cayenne surged forward, wanting to run like a race horse but being held back by Alain`s foot on the brake. I turned in my seat to watch the Black Boar fade into the night. When I flounced back around, Alain was peeking at me through his long lashes. "Do not be put off with me, Viviana."

            "It`s put out, and I`m not. Well, I am, sort of. I was enjoying myself." I put my best pout out there.

            "My biggest apologies. If I can make you enjoy yourself away from the party, will you be happy again?" he asked, his voice deep and sugary sweet with sincerity. I always did have a weakness for sugary sweet things. I may have nodded. "Shift for me."

            "I`m sorry? Did you say shift? I`m a shiftless driver."

            "Then it is time you learn if you wish to be made less pout out."

            "That`s put out and well you know it, wise ass," I said but laid my hand on the shifting lever knob thing. I wasn`t lying. I do not do stick shifts well. But there was something sultry just under the surface of Alain`s voice that made me quiver with expectation.

            "Put, pout, all the same. Now, ease it into first when I tell you too." His cold fingers slid into the slit of my green gown. I sucked in a sharp breath at the touch of icy fingertips to warm flesh. "Now, ease her into first. Straight up. Mm, yes. Nice."

            I shifted. His fingers shimmied between my legs. It was nice. Very nice. I kept my legs tightly together, trapping his right hand.



            "Viviana, where are your panties?" he asked gruffly, his middle finger finding what he was seeking. My fingers tightened on the Porsche's shifting lever.

            "Who wants panty lines under a gown this exquisite?" I spread my legs. He dove into the honey pot, his fingers slick already.

            "You naughty little Leprechaun," he teased with words then began to tease with touch. "Second, shift now. Straight down," he said as he brushed at my pearl with a rough thumb. I groaned then shifted. "Good. You listen so good. Third now, Viviana. We need to go faster. Up midway, then to the right, then up again."

            "You need to  . . . to do the same," I panted as we cruised through late night traffic, the lights of Philadelphia dimming as my lover began pleasuring me as only he knew how.

            "Do the same what, Viviana?" he asked. I looked at him. He snuck a fast look at me undulating against his hand. His eyelids were heavy with lust. "Go midway? To the right? Up? Faster?" Each query was followed by his long fingers doing what had been said. By the time we sailed out of the Philadelphia city limits and into suburbia, I was clawing at the door with one hand while ramming the Porsche into fourth gear with the other.

            "Faster would . . . be . . . Alain, God yes."

            He gave me faster. I gave him fifth. When the last tremor subsided, I opened my eyes. We were sitting at a traffic light. I rolled my head to the left to find Alain studying me intently. His eyes were greenish-blue fiery gems, his fingers relaxing in the hot warmth of my core.

            "Such skilled hands," I said."No wonder you score so often." He chuckled roughly then gently pulled his hand from the apex of my thighs. The light changed. We lurched forward. I had to giggle at his sudden lack of coordination. "What`s the matter? Are you feeling a bit . . . stiff from sitting in this car for so long?"

            "Mm, yes, I am most definitely stiff, but from sitting? I think not."

            "Can I help you out with that stiffness in any way? Perhaps rubbing the affected area would ease the stiffness?" My hand slithered over his thigh. I felt the hard muscle under my fingers twitch. I wet my lips. Alain shuddered as he pulled the tightest and most illegal U-turn I had ever seen. Laughter bubbled out of me as we raced toward home.

            "Be careful," I warned as we made a right turn that left some rubber on the road, "My naughty Leprechaun magic might not work on the fine men in blue." I ran my palm back and forth on the inside of his thigh. His breathing was raspy, quick, heated. I had seen worse parking jobs, but not since my days in driver`s ed. Alain was out of the car, my wrist in his hand, and into our apartment building`s elevator faster than you could say 'O Danny Boy'. We managed to get inside our apartment before he pounced like the Wildcat that he is.

            "Did anyone ever tell you that you`d have made a sexy Leprechaun?" I asked an hour later as I walked into the kitchen to find Alain making non-alcoholic Irish coffee  in nothing but a silly green plastic hat with a ratty paper shamrock band. He smiled at me over his wide shoulder. I snuggled up behind him, my robe mysteriously coming untied so my bare breasts could tease his naked back. "Oh my, what a big shillelagh you have!"
           
            "You are just after me for my golden pot, aren`t you?" he asked then turned to capture my mouth with his. He shoved my robe off my shoulders then lifted me from the floor to set me on the counter, the coffee, brown sugar and heavy cream seemingly forgotten by the randy French-Canadian Leprechaun.

            "And they say it`s the Irish who have all the luck," I whispered.

*~*~*

             As Alain would say: "Heureux le jour de la St. Patrick!"

            Happy St. Patrick`s Day!

           





4 comments:

Cathy Brockman said...

oh wow that was too hot!!

V.L. Locey said...

Tee-hee. Perhaps it should have had a 'Fans Required' warning as well as the NSFW one! =D

Anonymous said...

Yikes, that was a steamy one! ;-) (Lola)

V.L. Locey said...

Indeed it was, Lola! ;)