FUCK ME I’M IRISH

FUCK ME I’M IRISH

My Mom had long, beautiful hair, and lovely pale skin. That said, she also had crazy large 

breasts, and a southern accent that had been known to melt a man to goo at the sound of it. In 

short, though her complexion was there, she wasn’t Irish. Now, “not Irish” might not sound like an 

important thing to mention, except that, when I was about 18, I pieced together some clues, and 

had a sit down with my Dad about what I thought I’d learned. 

So, yeah… turns out, my Mom was a cock crazy slut who lusted after men like she 

would die of thirst if she didn’t get her lips on them. That… was a lot to take in. But, Dad not only 

admitted this, but he also admitted that he loved that about her, and it played a key role in their 

relationship. Now, I did not follow the questions that went down that rabbit hole, but I did learn 

what I’d set out to learn. 

You see, once a year, Mom dyed her hair this gorgeous red color, got all dressed up for 

Saint Patrick’s Day, and then went to celebrate… without us! It was this constant mystery in my 

life! But when I was old enough, I started hearing some rumors. They got me into a fight or two at 

first, but as sources multiplied, I decided I needed to have a heart to heart with Dad. So, yeah. 

Once a year, my Mom was dressing up like an Irish whore, taking the bus to pubs, and getting as 

much public sex as she could before coming home that night and telling my Dad all about her 

day. 

    Well, with that revelation out of the way, Dad apparently told Mom that I knew, and my life 

went from zero to insane overnight. I suddenly realized that Mom had been hiding her sexual side 

from me for my entire life, and now that I knew she loved sex, she had taken that as permission 

be herself. Honestly, it was weirdly flattering and refreshing to have her reveal “the adult her” to 

me and trust me to know how to react. That said, unless the correct way to react was to 

sercretly start masturbating to thoughts of my Mom, and I mean, non-fucking-stop; I’m not so 

sure I passed that test. 

Mom got super flirty with her words, her outfits went from “Motherly”, to “Milf in Heat”, and she 

was suddenly cool saying things around me that I very clearly remember having never heard 

before. So yeah… I went from my Mom is an angel with a voice that makes me tingle 

inappropriately sometimes, to my Mom is secretly a slut, but she’s still my Mom, to My Mom is 

an absolute whore, and I fucking hate how much I love it! But, at 18, there was nothing I could do 

about it, except play it cool, never do anything that would make her hesitate to talk about sex stuff 

around me, and wait it out. Now, at 21 on the other hand…

It was the longest 3 years of my life, but I waited. 

When I turned 21, I started hitting every bar that I thought Mom might target on Saint Patty’s day, 

and I asked around about crazy stories from years passed. When the day finally came, and Mom 

sauntered into a pub in “the irish part of town”, looking to seduce a guy or guys who would be 

ready and willing to fulfil her fantasy’s right there in public, I was already seated in the corner and 

enjoying some chicken fingers while I waited. Eventually, after flirting, laughing, and chatting with 

half the bar until guys were tripping over themselves to buy her a drink; Mom noticed me. 

She was actually doing an Irish accent, and, as much as I love my Mom’s real accent, I had to 

admit, she made it very sexy. Then Mom came over to me, scooted into my booth, and in 

hushed tones she tried to explain that the thing I’d heard about all those years ago was about to 

happen. But when I smiled boldly and told her that, yeah, that was why I was there; her look went 

from concerned Mother to curious kitten, to enticed seductress in the span of just a few 

seconds. “Oh really?” she purred, her Irish accent still in full force, even in this private moment. 

“An just how far are ya’ planin’ on takin’ this little adventure of yours?” she asked. In answer, I 

placed a hand on my Mother’s bare thigh, a thing I’d only thought of a few million times in the last 

few years. Then, as I slid it up along her smooth, creamy skin; up towards her very short skirt, I 

answered her. “As far as you’ll let me.”

Mom… liked that. Like, a lot. Like, she went from cool and in control, to saying in a whimpering 

moan, “Oh Fuck that’s so fuckin’ hot!”, a moment before she mounted my lap, forcibly guided my 

hand to her pussy, and slipped her tongue in between my lips for a heated kiss. 

I would later learn that the bar’s owner was in on Mom’s game, and spread the word to a select 

community each year. That was why the bar was short on women, why the door was secretly 

locked after Mom walked in, and why what happened next didn’t get anyone arrested. 

People whooped, and hollered as Mom and I made out fiercely, and someone commented that 

she was “already at it”.  

I’d gone from, hoping to see my Mom in action, so I had something new to masturbate too; to 

having her moaning into my mouth as she rubbed at the outline of my cock through my clothes. 

After several minutes of heavenly pleasure, and heat filling me that was so intense it had to make 

hell seem cool, Mom broke off our kissing and climbed out of the booth, grabbing my hand as 

she went. Then she was dragging me across the bar to the nearest pool table. 

She pulled her panties down and kicked them off like she was in a hurry, then she bent over and 

grabbed the table. A second later, she stood back up, breathily saying, “wait wait wait…” Then 

she paused, and seemed to take a moment to gather her thoughts before putting on a big smile 

and addressing the bar with a loud voice. “Ay lads, this one’s so young that he’s got me in quite 

the fluster. So if none of you dossers mind”, she said with a showman’s flare. “I think it’d be good 

craic this year to pretend that this’n is me Son. How about it you lot? Anyone got a problem with 

seeing Mommy showing junior here, just how much of a brasser his dear sweet Mother is?” 

She got no’s, and she got yeah’s, but both were enthusiastic “do it’s” from people who didn’t 

understand her question, the same way that people always misunderstand questions like, ‘do 

you mind’.  But, they were obviously into it.

I didn’t understand half the Irish slang my Mom was using, but a minute later, Mom bent herself 

over the pool table again. Then she looked at me over her shoulder, lifted her skirt to reveal a wet 

and waiting pussy, and said, “Well? Are you going to fuck your own Mother in front of all these 

people, or not?” And that… That I understood. Mom’s pussy was incredible! I have no idea how 

someone with multiple kids and constant need to be stretched out had such a tight pussy, but 

however she did it, it was amazing! I’d only been with girls my own age before that night, and not 

one of them compared. 

But it wasn’t just how she felt warm, and snug, and her pussy gripped me like a loving hand. It 

wasn’t just that she was lusty, that she begged for it, or that she moaned at every little thrust and 

move. Part of it, if I’m being honest, was that she was my Mom... 

I fucked her in front of a bar full of people, and they cheered us on as Mom told me how good I 

was giving it to her, and how turned on she was that her own Son’s cock was filling her up. Then, 

when I knew I was going to cum no matter what, I finally let myself reach up under her and grab 

those huge, beautiful tits of hers. I fucked her hard and fast as I gripped those amazing tits, and 

never once did a phrase like, “be sure to pull out” escape her lips. When I was done, Mom 

turned, grabbed my face, and once more began kissing me fiercely. It was intense, and heady. 

But when our kiss broke, we didn’t exactly hold hands and leave together. Instead, Mom backed 

up to the pool table, keeping eye contact with me, and smiled wickedly. Then she said, “Now… 

which one of you lads wants to be the first to plow this one's Mum while he watches?” The first 

one was the bartender, a huge black man who looked like he could have been a linebacker. But 

he wasn’t half-way done when he flipped Mom over, moved her up onto the pool table itself, and 

had a buddy of his take position on the other side of her. 

In that moment, Mom smiled, blew me a silent kiss, and then the guy in front of her grabbed a 

handful of her hair, and shoved his cock into my Mother’s mouth, and straight down her throat 

while I watched. The lips she just blew me a kiss with, were spread wide around his dick as she 

moaned, and her eyes fluttered. He stretched out the inside of her cheek with the head of his 

cock, bulging out my Mom’s mouth obscenely while his friend slid back into her from behind. 

Then they bounced her back and forth between them, spit-roasting my Mom on the pool table 

while the crowd watched, cheered, made lewd comments, and got ready for who was going to 

be next. 

Over the course of the next three, fucking, hours... a lot of guys took a turn, and a lot more didn’t 

wait for a turn. Mom was double, and triple fucked. They DP’d her, made her air-tight, had her 

bobbing her mouth back and forth between two and three at a time and everything else they 

could think of. The whole bar gangbanged my Mommy, while I watched! 

A few of the girls present took their turns with Mom, and 1 of them even joined the festivities, 

taking on multiple guys herself. At one point, in between rounds of sex and beer, Mom went into 

the bathroom, but instead of coming out like normal, she just popped her head out, beckoned a 

guy near the door to follow her inside and closed it behind them. This got the whole bar curious, 

and we kind of creeped closer. But the mystery was solved with the door (pull, from the inside), 

banged loudly, and my Mother’s voice moaned from the other side. Next thing we knew, we were 

all just listening to her moan and get fucked as the door rattled harder and harder from the other 

side. Strangely, it was super fucking hot. Like, we’d WATCHED her get ganbanged, but just 

hearing her, just picturing it, was a whole different thing; and even after everything else, it still had 

people jerking off to it. 

When all was said and done, and the group began to dwindle, Mom got dressed again, reapplied 

her lipstick, and had me walk her out. It was… INTENSE to say the least. I was going to be 

masturbating to the things I’d seen that night for the rest of my damn life. No doubt about it. I was 

lost in thought, and thinking about how badly I couldn’t wait for next year, when we got to my car 

and Mom had another surprise for me. 

When I started the car, Mom said, “sweet heart… I never imagined that you would want… 

ANYTHING like that. Like me! Your own Mother!” Her words might have made a terrifying text, but 

in person, she said them with barely contained lust. She wasn’t complaining, she was practically 

drooling over it. “But then tonight happened and,” she paused to moan. “... honey. I do NOT want 

to go back. So I need to know, right now, did you LOVE this as much as I did; and do you want it 

to keep going?” I was stunned, but after a moment of being frozen, I managed a stupid, 

overenthusiastic nod in reply. 

“Good”, Mom purred. “Because you’ve had my pussy tonight, but that was it, and I am NOT 

satisfied with just that. So tonight Mommy is going to come to your bed room and give you the 

kind of ‘tucking-in’ you’ve only dreamed of; with my tits wrapped around your cock.” 

“But,” she said, “we are nowhere near calling it a night yet. I am SO turned on by this. By You! I 

need a little more, and I need it right now. So, tell me how this sounds…”

Then she turned to me, and laid a hand on my thigh, gently gripping and massaging the muscle 

there as she continued. “You are going to pick a friend, someone you trust, and drive to his 

house, right now. Text him, warn him, whatever. But when we get there, we are going to meet up, 

and then I am going to suck your cock. And while I’m sucking your cock, your friend is going to 

be fuckin’ yer Momma… sound good?”

Her Irish accent had fallen away at some point, and she sounded like my Mom again. Which, 

was turning me on all over again. I nodded, and said, “Yeah Mom. That’s sounds really good.” 

And she shot me a pleased and wicked grin as she gave my leg a quick tap. Then she pointed at 

the road and said, “well then get goin’ kiddo. Mama’s gettin’ ancy!” 

And just like that, I went from having the best Saint Patrick’s day ever, to having the best life ever!