Chapter 1: The Irish Colleen

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, .

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1: The Irish Colleen - Paul and Terry go shopping and meet Mora, a young thing from Ireland. They set out to teach her a thing or two about American get togethers, and wind up learning a few things from her.



The following day Terry and Paul went to their local mall to do some shopping. Paul was brooding about their encounter with the Brattelby's, specifically the husband, Evan. But Terry, although still sore, seemed to have forgotten the way in which he had treated her, especially anally, whereas Paul was still enraged over the matter.

"I'll ask Trevor not to invite them again," he told Terry as she held a rather sheer nightie up to her chest and examined herself in the mirror, frowning and chewing her lower lip.

"At least not to the same party we're at."

"No, don't," she said returning the garment to its place on the counter.

"He's an animal. To let him..." he paused searching for the right choice of words. "Who knows what he'll try the next time. That's why I don't want a next time with him."

"You seemed to like Ronnie," his attractive wife offered.

"She's fine," he admitted.

"How many times did you do her?"

"I... I really don't recall. But it was several."

"Anal?"

"Yes."

"Orally?"

"Um, yeah."

"And of course, you screwed a couple of times."

"So... Was I counting how many times you went around with Trevor? Or even that bastard, Evan. You had him in every orifice..."

He stopped abruptly, having just noticed the saleslady standing there. Her face had gone crimson with embarrassment.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and turned to put some distance between the women and himself. He knew from experience that Terry would stay and either complete the purchase, or not. But she would take her time about it. It was her way of arguing her case without actually saying anything.

He shrugged and sauntered along the aisle until it turned into a menswear department, unable to out walk his frustration. He kept taking furtive peeks at his wife and the saleslady as they engaged in a rather animated conversation that ended with the woman laughing and clapping a hand on Terry's shoulder, as if Terry had told her a great joke.

When she finally bought an item, he thought it lingerie; she turned toward him with a broad smile on her face and quickly joined him.

"What was that all about?" He asked. He hated himself, but he had to ask.

"What was what about?" She asked innocently.

"You damn well know," he said, his irritation at her exposed.

She chose to ignore it, saying, "Oh, you mean Ellen."

"You're on a first name basis with... with the salesperson?"

"She's a human being, Paul, and if you took a moment to consider it you wouldn't have run off with your tail between your legs."

"My tail is always between my legs," he barked at her.

Terry laughed in his face. "Well it's certainly not between your legs when it's sticking me in my pussy... or elsewhere," she added flippantly.

"All right," he said, "I'm sorry. I acted like an ass and I humbly apologize."

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to Ellen."

"Terry..." he began, already exasperated with her. "I... what's wrong with us today?"

"You seem to have some form of guilt complex over what happened last night."

"No I don't," he replied snappishly.

"There you go again."

"What do you mean?" He asked as they approached the café just outside the mall.

"Um, let's get a drink or something and discuss this. I'm becoming confused."

"Confused, eh? Well I'm glad to hear you admit it. I'll have a Tom Collins."

A pert waitress of about eighteen appeared, took their order and gave a salacious wiggle as she walked away.

Terry chided him for staring at her. "Didn't get enough last night?"

"That was last night," he said, leering at her.

"Cut it out, I'm still sore. Really sore after all that..."

"Fucking?"

"Yes, fucking."

There was a small vase on their table holding a single red rose. 'This should be a romantic moment, ' he thought, 'instead we're arguing like cats and dogs.'

"Paul?"

"Yes dear?"

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"Yes, I've been tormenting you all afternoon. Taking my frustrations out on you. It's a matter of jealousy and possessiveness on my part. I'm basically insecure. Do you realize that I kept score of who did what and with whom last evening?"

"You did?"

"I did. And I despise myself for it. I was as willing as you to go there and... and fuck whoever..."

"It was a joint decision," he said, wanting to be supportive to her.

"Yes... it was, but... "

"Think back to how the evening ended, baby."

She closed her eyes and smiled, recalling his words following their last sexual adventure. "Terry, that was so beautiful," he had said with tears in his eyes.

"You are so perfect. I love you, I love you!"

She licked her lower lip and found it sore from gnawing on it earlier. "You know, we did sort of stay together for a good part of the evening," she said, sounding little girlish.

"Those were the best parts of the evening," he said smiling at her.

"I do love you, you big lug!" A second later they were kissing.

As they parted, the waitress placed their drinks in front of them. "I get the best customers," she said brightly in an Irish brogue; then seemed to skip away from them to take another order.

"So, shall we quit joining Barbara and Trevor?" he asked seriously.

"Oh, no, it's just too much fun, isn't it?"

"I like it well enough," he admitted.

"I just have to... "

"Adapt?" He offered.

She laughed. "No, not quite, I have to accept things."

"Baby, you have been accepting things."

"She thought he was teasing her and replied, "Oh, yeah, things like Trevor's huge cock and Barbara's pussy. And... and that strap-on thingamajig."

"Not to mention Evan's dick and Ronnie's tits," he threw in, only to realize their waitress was standing there next to him.

"Terry burst out laughing. The waitress flushed, not knowing exactly what to do.

"That's two strikes," Terry said, howling with laughter. Not knowing what to do, the waitress joined her. When she calmed down, Terry took the waitress's wrist and then her hand as she filled her in.

"We were at an orgy last night."

To Paul's surprise, the waitress was all ears.

"No!"

"Yes! And it was really, really wild!"

The young girl seemed transfixed, and Terry, realizing it, caressed her arm as she spoke. "Three couples. We did everything you could imagine and then some," Terry said, before stopping to take another breath.

"I can't believe you got all that out in one breath," Paul said.

"Sorry, sorry, go on, you were telling..."

"Please forgive us? What's your name?" Terry asked, of the waitress.

"Mora, my name is Mora Reilly," Her brogue even more pronounced.

"Irish, eh?" Terry asked.

"Yes, born in Dublin."

You can't be a day over seventeen," Terry said and for the first time in the conversation Paul realized his wife was out to seduce the young girl.

He studied the girl. She was small. The top of her head came to the middle of his chest. Her curly brown hair was short, but not mannishly cut, a chestnut brown that smelled of oranges. Her short linen skirt showed off her slender calves, and she wore a small gold good luck charm - on a gold chain around her throat. No earrings, he noted, as he casually glanced at his wife and caught her licking her lips excitedly.

Mora had a deep tan; he suspected she was spending a lot of tip money at a tanning bed to keep up with her peers, who not slaving at a job were spending a lot of time at the beach.

"I'm eighteen years and four months," Mora answered belatedly, after realizing how pleasurable the woman's hand felt running along her arm and wrist.

"I'm Terry, and this handsome specimen is Paul, my loving husband. He loves to make love, if you know what I mean." The mischievous look in her eyes was evident to both Paul and Mora.

"You really went to an orgy?" Mora said, incredulous that she herself had asked the question.

"We'll be going to another next week. Would you care to join us? Paul here is hung like a horse." Terry smirked.

"I..."

"Don't worry, we won't bite you... at least not so it hurts," Terry added.

Mora smiled weakly, as if unsure where this was leading. But in truth knew exactly where it was leading. She shuddered on feeling Paul's hand on her calf. For his part, Paul leaned in closer to Terry, their lips scant millimeters apart.

"Are you going to kiss me?" She asked.

"Only if Mora wants me to," he said, and Terry giggled.

"Mora?" Terry said, after she stopped giggling, "Should we?"

Paul's hand moved higher, roving around her lower thigh in a languid fashion as Mora went rigid.

"Um, what, mum?"

"Kiss, would you like to see us kiss?"

"Um, yes, mum, I would."

They kissed, with Terry making a show of sending her tongue into his mouth and moaning softly for Mora's benefit. All the while, Paul's hand kept caressing her lower thigh, moving incrementally higher every minute, while Mora fidgeted in her short skirt like a nervous schoolgirl.

The kiss ended, Terry sighed, then inquired of the young girl if she thought her husband was a good kisser.

"From what I've seen mum, he certainly is." Mora glanced nervously about and noted no one was in need of service at the moment. She was aware the manager was outside having a smoke and so, she remained at their table fixed on the coupe before her.

"Would you like to kiss him?"

"Mum... I..." It was obvious Mora was shaken by the request. She spun away from Paul's hand and almost ran back to her station.

"Well you scared the shit out of her with that line," he said. "But actually, it wasn't that bad."

Terry grinned at him. They were silent for a minute, then Terry whispered, "Don't look up, she's coming back with two more drinks."

"We didn't order..."

"Shut up, let me talk."

"Don't I always..." he said with a smirk, as Mora arrived at their table.

"My treat," the young Irish girl said, putting the drinks in front of the couple.

Paul noted two buttons undone on her blouse and would have sworn they were closed a minute before. Mora couldn't bring herself to meet Terry's eyes, but made no move when Paul's hand returned to her thigh; the upper thigh this time. Terry glanced at him and saw that his hand had gone up Mora's skirt.

"Thank you, Mora."

"Oh yer welcome, that's for sure. You're being the most interesting customers I've ever had.

Paul's fingers crept upward until he had them exactly at the juncture of Mora's crotch.

"OH!" She husked, and shuddered.

"Nice isn't it?" Terry asked softly.

"Yes mum, it 'tis."

"What time do you get off work?"

"To... today, early. Umm, er, maybe four."

"Do you have a car?"

Paul's middle finger lightly made its way along her very thick bush, searching for her slit. Her panties were wet. He located the vaginal opening, but did not force his finger into her; merely satisfied himself with tracing the outline of her slit before withdrawing the finger and inserting his hand between her thighs as if tendering his hand in greeting. He moved it in a saw-like movement, back and forth over her flesh, making light contact with the hairy bottom of her pussy and the soft tissue between pussy and ass.

"Nuh... No. Nuh, not yet. Saving..."

"I understand," Terry said kindly, and took hold of her hand again, rubbing her thumb over the girl's sweaty palm.

"Feeling horny?"

""Um, yes, I..."

"We can wait until four, take you home with us. How does that sound?"

Mora's knees were trembling, and Paul wanted to tell Terry how wet the girl had become, but not wanting to spoil the mood, he said nothing.

He did, however, keep his fingers sawing back and forth.

"I... I'd... like that. Yes, umm, I'd like that... very much, mum."

"Mora, please call me Terry, not mum, all right?"

"Yes, mum, I mean, Terry!"

Paul gently removed his hand and brought it to Terry lips. She stuck out her tongue and slowly, lasciviously, licked his fingers. Mora's knees caved and she was lucky enough to catch herself on the table. Paul's hand was on her ass immediately, helping the poor girl to right herself. His finger moved up through the cleft in her rear, giving a little push to her puckered asshole before moving up and away from her body.

He inquired gently, "Mora, are you all right?"

"Oh, yes, sir. I'm clumsy, that's me..." she laughed nervously. "Just clumsy Mora from Dublintown."

"It will be the both of us, Mora. Do you understand?"

"I do, I do, yes, the... both of ye, yes," she replied, breathing so heavily that her chest was noticeable in its movement.

"Good." Terry said.

"See you at four, then," Paul added. Mora nodded nervously and backed away from their table. A minute later, Paul paid their bill and left her a twenty-dollar tip.


They returned to the mall, and Terry resumed her shopping since they had almost two hours to kill before Mora got off from work. As Terry shopped, she found herself frowning at the more conservative choices, tossing them aside and selecting more provocative items. She also spent an inordinate amount of time in the lingerie and swimsuit departments.

They were sitting in their car outside the restaurant when Mora came out. She was wearing the same outfit she'd worn at work, and shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight with her hand, looked around for them, but didn't see them in the car.

Paul honked the horn, and Mora ran lithely over to join them.

"Hi!" she said with a bright smile, "Oh, and thank you for the generous tip."

"Hello Mora," Terry smiled back at her. "You're more than welcome. You gave us great service."

"Hey, Goodlookin'" Paul threw in and made the colleen blush.

"Gee," he added, "headed for her first orgy and she's blushin'. We're off to a great start."

Mora scampered into the back seat and smacked Paul lightly on the top of his head.

"Nothin' but a wise guy!" she said, laughing happily. They joked and talked about nothing in particular until reaching the Hartman's condo.

"This is it!' Terry grinned, getting out and holding the door for Mora.

"Wow!" Mora said, appreciatively, "Some place you've got here. Does it have a pool?"

"Yes it does. We can go for a swim if you'd like."

"Didn't bring a suit," Mora said sadly, then brightening, added, "Just me!"

They all laughed, and Paul held the door open, and the women entered. He closed the door and headed to their bar. "What to drink, ladies?"

"Green apple martini, please?" Mora said, bit a fingernail and sat down on a loveseat.

"Can do," Paul called out. "And you, love?"

"The same please, thank you," Terry sat next to the young waitress.

"A pair of green apple martini's comin' up," he said, arranging the ingredients before him. Mora looked on approvingly as he deftly mixed the drinks and set them down on coasters next to each woman, then sat on the floor next to them. In a few short minutes all three had a slight buzz going.

"Oh, will you look at that?" Terry giggled, pointing at Paul's crotch. Mora looked and saw a huge bulge. She covered her eyes with her hands.

"What's this?" Terry laughed, "Can't give my man's dick a good gander?"

Mora shook her head, indicating no, but laughing all the same.

"I told you he's hung like a horse, did I not?"

"Um, yes, mum."

"Terry. Call me Terry."

"Um, yes, Terry."

"Want to see it?"

"Um, all right... Terry."

"Take it out and show her, baby."

"Oh, my!" Mora gulped in giddy anticipation.

Paul drew the zipper down, reached in and slowly produced his member for Mora's eyes. He was only eight inches, but to Mora, who had only seen two others - each approximately five or six inches in length - it appeared huge. As far as Mora was concerned, it might have been a horse's cock.

Mora was flushed and sweating, and when Terry got up to allow her husband to sit down next to her and then hopped upon his lap and kissed him. Mora felt an ache in her pussy. The married couple continued the kiss, with Terry grabbing Paul's erection and jerking it back and forth. Mora's nipples grew hard, and stuck out. She flushed with embarrassment, but to her surprise, they didn't look at her. They were carried away with one another.

Mora squawked excitedly as Paul's hand delved into Terry's half-open blouse and watched his fingers curl into her breast through the lacy bra she wore. Terry giggled at Paul's groping, moaned loudly when his mouth dropped to a nipple, and started to suck it through the lacy material of her bra.

It took Terry a moment, but she managed to remember their guest, and gazed up at the flushed Mora through half-lidded eyes.

"I have two of them, Mora" she said, her voice husky with lust.

Mora moved zombie-like, bending to join them. Her heart beat more rapidly; her palms were moist with sweat, and the dull achy feeling in her cunt was sharper than before. Mora knew that she was as wet down there as she'd ever been.

Terry's breast, freed from the cup of her bra, loomed in front of Mora. Her mouth was dry and she fixed on Terry's lovely areole as the tiny pebbles grew sizably in a short time. The craving to suck the nub at its center was overwhelming as Mora's hormones were working overtime. There was no way she was leaving this condo without having sex with the couple sitting before her.

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