Magic Ink - Cover

Magic Ink

Copyright© 2011 by Uncle Jim

Chapter 10

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 10 - Mark Kent, a college student, answers an ad for a part time gardener placed by the O'Connell sisters. He finds more that a job, as the sisters have been under a curse for a long time. Mark has the Talent and strength to remove it, but doesn't realize it - yet. The job turns out to be more than part time.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Magic   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Paranormal   Incest   Brother   Sister   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Squirting   Pregnancy   Slow  

We arrived at the Dublin airport at 10:30 their time, on Thursday morning the 21st of July, and went through Customs and Immigration there. The inspectors were impressed that two such beautiful American colleens could speak Gaelic so fluently. They were not similarly impressed with me other than the fact that I had two beautiful girls with me.

Once clear of the Customs and Immigration area, the sisters insisted on a stop at the ladie's room before claiming our checked luggage. I made a pit stop in the men's room and then waited for them outside of the ladies' room ... They soon came out giggling, and we went to claim the rest of our luggage. After arriving at the correct carousel, I inquired about what was so funny.

"Oh," Katie said, very quietly, "We brought gold with us, but hid it from the inspectors at both airports."

"Yes, they would want to a collect duty on it, or even confiscate it," Margie added with a big grin.

"We'll show you later. There are too many people here now," Katie told me quietly.

We eventually collected the rest of our luggage and I got a cart to put it on, while the sisters changed some of their money into euros. We proceeded to the local transportation area then to obtain a taxi for the ride into Dublin itself.

The sisters knew just where we were going and told the driver in Gaelic. He was definitely impressed that these two beautiful, full-figured young women spoke the old language and with an odd old accent at that.

"Sure now, where did you learn Gaelic?" he asked.

"Our ancestors are from County Kerry," Katie told him.

"And we learned it as babes," Margie added.

"Are you sure you want to go to this hotel? It's rather expensive," he asked the sisters.

"Oh aye," Katie told him. "There is a dress maker near there that we need to see."

The driver delivered us to our hotel, the Jurys Inn Parnell Street, and the doorman loaded our luggage on a trolly while Katie paid the taxi driver, and we then went in to register.

"Can I help you?" the clerk at the front desk asked in English.

"Yes, we have reservations, the O'Connell party," Katie told him in Gaelic. The clerk was somewhat surprised.

"Yes," he answered, also in Gaelic now. "You need to register and I need your passport numbers."

"You really are Americans!" he said in shock on seeing our passports.

"Yes, why are you so surprised?" Margie asked.

"You speak a very old dialect," he said.

"Yes, we learned it as children," Katie assured him.

"Most Americans speak English and not well," he told us.

"Oh, we speak English, but this is Ireland, not England," Margie told him with a grin, while Katie used one of their credit cards for the hotel bill.

"And how long will you be with us?" the clerk asked.

"Just a few days. We have some business to take care of here in Dublin, and we need to look up some people before leaving for other parts of the country," Katie informed him.

The doorman had our luggage there on a trolly, and a young man with short red hair took us and it up to our room. After he unloaded the luggage and gave us our room key, Katie tipped him generously, because of his red hair, I suspected, and closed the door.

The room wasn't bad. It had a large bed and a couch for sleeping. We were all still tired from traveling and decided to take a nap. The sisters had informed me, on the ride here, that we had somewhere to go this evening. We all crowded into the bed and were soon asleep with both sisters lying half on and half off of me.

After getting up around 5:30, the sisters showered in the hotel's small shower stall while I shaved. I showered while they did their hair and put on just a touch of make-up. It was while I was showering that I remembered about their giggling when coming out of the ladies room at the airport, and what they had said about gold.

"You were going to tell me something about gold," I said, as I dried off.

"Yes, we brought gold with us," Katie answered, like they did it all of the time.

"How?" I asked, not understanding.

"We had it in our carry-ons when we checked in at the ticket counter," Margie continued. "Remember when we went to the ladies room before going through security?"

"Yes."

"We hid it in the ladies room with an invisibility spell," Katie told me.

"And after having the wine before we went to the gate, we went to the ladies room again," Margie stated.

"Yes, I thought it was the wine," I said.

"No, that was when we moved the gold to the second ladies room. It's heavy and somewhat difficult for us to move long distances," Katie told me.

"After we were on the plane and were seated, we moved it to the plane and had it under our seats but still invisible," Margie told me.

"After going through Customs and everything here, we had it come to us in the ladies room here. It's in our carry-ons now," Katie finished. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open.

"What good is Magic if you don't use it once-in-a-while?" Margie asked.

"How much did you bring?" I asked, as I recovered.

"Five pounds each," Katie told me. "Most of it in coins - British gold two pound and five pound coins from the reign of Queen Victoria, but also some gold biscuit bars," Katie told me.

"Ten pounds of gold!?" I asked in shock. "Do you have any idea what that's worth?"

"Yes, the coins are worth about 3,000 euros each, and the gold biscuits are 100 gram and are worth somewhere around 4,650 euros each," Katie told me. "We checked."

"Good God. Just as gold ten pounds would be worth something like $210,000," I said in shock.

"Yes, the coins are worth more than just their gold value, so yes, we have something like 200,000 euros worth," Margie told me very calmly.

"How can you be so nonchalant about that?" I asked, upset.

"It's only money, Mark, and we haven't been on a real vacation in a long time," Katie told me just before she kissed me. She was followed by Margie, and I soon forgot about money.

"We have things to do besides that," Katie said, when she noticed the bulge in my pants.

The sisters had donned matching white blouses and green skirts with nylons, and pumps with two inch heels. Their lustrous red hair was loose around their faces, and they looked like a million dollars.

"Let's eat before we go out. I'm not sure if they'll have food where we're going," Katie told us.

"Are you going to leave all of that money here?" I asked, nervously.

"Yes, no one can see it, as it's invisible, and I'll put a spell on the room so that no one can enter. It will be perfectly safe," Margie assured me. I still wasn't used to Magic at this point.

We had dinner in the hotel's restaurant. The food was OK, but not great, and it was expensive Outside, we got a cab and the women told him where to go. Not knowing anything about the city, I had no idea where we were going. We shortly arrived at a pub. There was a painted signboard over the door that said 'PUB', and a sign on a fancy iron bracket that extended out from the wall of the building. It had two crossed keys above a gold crown, and the words 'Keys and Crown' on it. The building itself was a corner building and had windows and green painted woodwork on both streets.

"The Keys and Crown," Margie told me. "Other pubs are named the opposite - Crown and Keys, but not this one, not ours."

By now it was after 8:00 and there were numerous people moving along the street. I opened the door and held it for the women, who proceeded me into the pub.

"Here! You can't bring those women in here tonight. This is a respectable pub. It is," the large man behind the bar shouted at us in new Gaelic.

"Hush now, Seamus," one of the older patrons told him good naturally, as they all turned to gaze at the two young women that had entered.

"And would you be turning away the O'Connell because of that?" Katie asked in her older Gaelic.

"The O'Connell, you say!?" the man behind the bar asked, as he turned to look at a picture hanging behind the bar. He took it down and looked closely at it for a time before turning around again to look at the two young women standing there. His expression was very confused then, and he came from behind the bar for a closer look at the sisters with the picture in his hands.

On approaching the two women, he held the picture up and looked from it to them several times. You could see the picture start to shake in his hands even in the subdued light of the pub.

"You're them!!" he whispered in shock.

"No," Margie answered. "That is a picture of our great-grandmothers. We have been told often that we bear a striking resemblance to them."

"Yes, we're here to see the man in that picture. The one that owns the other half of this pub," Katie told the barman.

"You're those O'Connells," he said, and then paused.

"Yes, I'm Mary Kathleen O'Connell, the fourth, and this is my cousin, Mary Margaret O'Connell also the fourth," Katie told him.

"Himself hasn't been here in some time. Young Master Michael will be here shortly though." the barman said after a short pause.

"We aren't here to see young Master Michael," Katie told him in no uncertain terms. "We're here to see Aengus Patrick Sean Michael O'Brien," she said, reciting the full list of his given names in a loud voice.

"Are you the 'bean sidhe' (Banshee)?" the barman whispered in fear on hearing her.

"No, we're his new partners," Margie told him with a smile.

"Well, have a seat," the barman told us in English, as he cleared a table by the wall and invited us to sit down.

"What will you have?" he asked, now recovered. The two sisters looked at him in a puzzled fashion.

"Why what our great-grandmothers always had here," Katie answered, "O'Connell Ale."

"But ... but, there hasn't been any brewed since the late '40s," the barman answered in distress.

"However," he added, recovering after a few seconds, "I have a fine 'D'Arice's Dublin Stout' that's just as good." The barman was just serving us the stout when a young man entered the pub.

"Here's Master Michael now," the barman said, and hurried over to speak to him, as soon as we were served. Shortly the slim young man of about my height with brown hair approached our table.

"I'm Michael O'Brien," he said in introduction. "I was told that you wanted to see me."

"No, we've came to see your grandfather," Katie told him.

"He doesn't run the business any more. He's retired. Are you really the O'Connell heirs?" he asked.

"Yes," Margie answered and produced a document that I hadn't seen them carrying. She handed it to young Master Michael. He studied it carefully for some time. The document was in Gaelic, and I could see his lips move as he read it.

"You will notice that it says 'in perpetuity' at the end just above the signatures," Katie told him.

"But this means that you own half of the pub!" he stated, "and ... and!!"

"Half of the profits since 1951," Margie prompted.

"We ... we don't have that kind of money," the young man gasped, as he began to sweat.

"We aren't here to collect any of that money. Not now anyway," Katie told him, as she leaned in and whispered, "we're here to see your grandfather," and then added the agreed on password, "Aos Shide."

"No!" he said in surprise and shock. "Surely you're not ... no, that isn't real."

"It's as real as my sister and I are," Margie told a very shaken Michael.

"I'll ... I'll have to see my grandfather first. I can't just take you out there. The shock would kill him," he said.

"We'll come again tomorrow evening," Katie told him, as we prepared to leave. "That Stout isn't as good as O'Connell Ale was," she added before we left. Outside, we got another cab and returned to the hotel.

"What was that document?" I asked, when we got back to our hotel room.

"It's a partnership agreement. We own half of the pub and are due half of the profits. We gave Aengus the money to keep the pub running and to refurbish it when we were here in 1949. But we really aren't interested in the money. We need to see Aengus himself.

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