I hope you enjoy my St. Patrick's day themed (well Irish) erotic short story.
St. Pat’s Day
It was a typical midweek at The Porterhouse here in Dublin. Working behind the bar, I took a gander at him right away as he walked in. Tall, dark hair, slick suit, he wasn’t from around here, but the fella peaked my interest. He stopped and scanned the room and then noticed some local business men sitting at a table having a glass and talking business, nothing unusual.
Wiping down the bar, I was trying not to let him see me gawking. He’s in good shape, well built but not overly muscular. As he approached the table of men, he looks over at me He is totally my type but I try and steady my nerves. Joining the men, he joins in the conversation. I figure this would give me an opportunity to flirt a bit while I get his drink order and maybe let him check me out. My time in the gym has been well spent.
As I walk over, I can hear him talking. He’s got a deep, smooth voice, with an undertone of confidence. And he’s American. So far, I’m in love or at least lust. I walk up and stand next to him, placing my hand on his shoulder to get his attention and of course begin my flirtation.
“Hey fella. Are you going to have a glass?
He finishes his sentence and looks at me. “Yes, something dark.” His voice begins to melt me further until I hear his answer.
I take a deep breath and take my hand off of his shoulder. It seems everyone thinks we don’t drink anything but black stout. “If you want a glass of black stout, you’ll need to find yourself heading down Parliament to one of the manky pubs down that way and maybe you can find a floozie and have yourself a grand time.
The men at the table laugh and are taken aback my forwardness and no nonsense attitude. But he isn’t impressed or even flustered. Instead, he looks right into my eyes and I’m immediately drawn to his green eyes. My legs weaken and I can already feel my knickers sliding down. He very calmly says, “I didn’t ask for Guinness, I said something dark. I’ll take a Louder.” With that he turns back to his group and continues his conversation as if I’m not even still standing right there.
And that’s when the fight started.
Well, I don’t know if he’s a gobshite or he wants to give out or maybe he thinks he’s a hardchaw, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. I’ve taken on a few men before and held my own. If he wants a fight, I’ll give him one.
“A Louder?” I ask in such a way that it interrupts his conversation and the men at the table stop speaking which forces him to address my question. He turns back around to look me in the eyes again. Oh bloody hell, those eyes will be the death of me. The still calm look on his face tells me he’s going to be a tough nut to crack. But I’m not going to back down and I’m going to show this cocky American who’s boss.
He softly but firmly replies, “Yes, a Louder.” And then turns back to the men. They’re looking at me and noticing that I haven’t gone anywhere which causes him to turn back around.
“Is there a problem?” he asks looking me in the eyes again.
“There is if you want me to bring you a Louder. It’s a lot stronger than the piss water you Americans drink over there. I don’t know if I can find a nipple big enough to fit on the glass so you can nurse it all afternoon on your way to becoming locked.” A few of the guys give a whistle and I think I’ve shown this slick suited city lad that I mean business even though his emerald green eyes are doing things to me. I only hope he can’t see it.
I don’t know how he can look me in the eyes. Most men stare at my chest. My low cut tank top under my button down blouse gives them ample cleavage to gander at. It certainly helps my tips. But all this is telling me he’s going to be a challenge. I like challenges.
“Now, am I going to have to go behind the bar and get it myself or are you going to get it for me?”
Looking at him, I give him a big “Okay, I’ll give you what you asked for and then watch you wish you had listened to me” smile and then turn and take a slow walk around the bar. I grab a pint glass and begin to fill it, all the while, smiling as I anticipate his demise. That is until I begin fantasying that it was closing time and he was bending me over the bar. However, the whole time I’ve been behind the bar, he’s been chatting with his table mates and hasn't given me a second glance.
I bring him his drink and set it on a napkin. He doesn't even look up at me. “I’m not sure you’re ready for a Louder? Go slow, baby sips.”
He turns to look me in the eyes and replies, “If I wanted some bloody lip from an effing bar keep, I’d tell you to unzip my pants.”
A split second later, after seeing red, my fist was flying towards his cheek. He deflected my punch and I ended up in his lap. “You petulant brat.” And with that, he smacks my ass hard, twice.
I struggled to get up as he held me down for a few seconds, but that wasn’t as hard of a struggle as not letting the guys see how much I loved that spanking from him.
Finally letting me go, I got up and took a step back, ready to turn this into a small donnybrook. But then I quickly thought of a way to embarrass him more. “You’re a bad egg, you are. I should belt you.”
And with that I walked away and went back to wiping down the bar and cleaning. I couldn’t help but shoot him angry glances, wishing I had a shillelagh to properly give him what for. If he messes with me again, he’ll wish he’d seen a banshee instead.
The men finished their drinks and meeting and they all got up to leave. He walks over to me and I give him the coldest stare I can manage even though my knees are almost jelly.
“I’m talking you to dinner tonight. I’ll pick you up here at six,” he says.
I continue to stare him right in the eyes and say, “No, I’m not.”
“Yes you are,” he arrogantly replies.
“No, I’m not,” I repeat myself even louder and place my hands on the bar for even greater dramatic effect. “And what makes you think that I would ever go out with you?”
He smiles at me without ever breaking our stare. “I didn’t say anything about going out, just dinner, so the fact that you mentioned it says that you were obviously thinking about it.”
Momentarily dumbfounded, I protest as he finding loop holes and isn’t taking no for an answer. “Dinner, going out, whatever you call it, the answer is still NO!” I don’t blink but I also can’t believe that I just said no when a few minutes ago. I was ready to have my way with him. Well, that was before I knew that he was arrogant and thinks he can have whatever he wants.
Just then, my boss, Daniel, comes out from his office and walks over. “What’s all this fussing about going on here?” he asks looking at me, then the American, then back at me.
“He wants to take me to dinner and I told him no. and besides, I don’t get off until 9,” I add smugly.
Daniel, looks at the guy and sighs, “Yeah, I do need her to stay.” I smile and that obviously should put an end to the American’s nonsense.
“Alright then, I’d like to buy her time from you,” the man says to Daniel and pulls out a hundred dollar bill from his pocket and hands it to him. I gasp and look at Daniel in disbelief. Watching as Daniel turns the bill over in his hands, knowing that Daniel is going to say yes.
“True but it’s a slow night, go to dinner.” my boss says to me.
Damn it. I stare at the American, “No, there’s too much to do.”
Daniel looks at me and in a firm tone says, “You’re going to dinner with this guy, and wear something nice,” and turns and walks away.
Stunned at what just happened, I stand there speechless for a second. Yelling back in Daniel’s direction, I say, “Well then I’ll need to leave earlier”
“Fine,” Daniel yells back through the doorway. Taking a deep breath, I look up at Mr. Dreamy eyes. “Pasta, I like pasta and you can save the salad.”
He smiles. “I’ll send a car to pick you up at 5:45.” Turning towards the door, he begins to walk away.
“You said six,” I yell after him.
He stops and turns back to me, “Dinner is a t 6, so the car will pick you up at 5:45. Oh and Tristan.”
Tristan? What the hell does he mean by that I think to myself? And the look on my face must have said that I was confused.
“My name, Tristan. You haven’t asked me but I figured you should know what to scream out tonight.” He turns and walks out.
Oh bloody hell, he already thinks he has me in bed. What a cheeky bastard I blurt out loud and the few customers stop and look at me. I tell them to finish their drinks and they all go back to their original conversations.
I head to my apartment which thankfully is close by. Looking in my closet trying to decide on something to wear, I contemplate not even showering or changing. How to make him sorry he got me into this? Hmmmm.
Then a thought hits me. Look fabulous and leave him with blue balls. I find one of my dresses that I know makes my cleavage look great and shows off my figure. It’s got the kind of front where if I bend over, he’ll get a great look at my breasts and short enough he’ll see the legs. A lethal combination in the past and I’ll leave “Tristan” the arrogant calling out his own names as he strokes himself off tonight.
I shower, shave and do my hair and make-up. Checking myself in the mirror, I have to admit that I look good. Practicing my seductress stare, I’m pulling out all of the weapons tonight.
Walking out the door, there’s a town car sitting out front with a man in a chauffeur’s uniform standing by the passenger seat.
“Maam, I’m hear pick you up.”
“How did you know where to pick me up and why aren’t you picking me up at the Porterhouse?”
“I’m just following Tristan’s directions Maam. Please get in.”
It’s a bit strange but I get into the car and he closes the door. A few minutes later he pulls over in front of some nice apartments. I get out and the driver tells me to go to buzz 3-C. As I walk up to the call box, I start to get a bit nervous. Pushing the button, there isn’t a direct response and I kind of hope that he doesn’t answer and I can just go back home and have a quiet evening.
However, that changes as I hear the electric lock on the door buzz to let me in. Walking in, I ride the lift up to the third floor and exit. The door to his apartment is ajar and I this marvelous aroma arouse my taste buds. I push the door open a bit and say “Hello?”
“Come in.”
The voice comes from somewhere farther back in the apartment. Hesitantly, I push the door open and walk in, closing it behind me. Spacious and modern but defiantly a bachelor pad. Everything is luxurious and I follow the aroma to the kitchen. Tristan is at the stove stirring a pot.
He looks domestic and vulnerable standing there. I’m drawn to him and as I approach him he turns around holding the spoon out to me, with his other hand underneath to catch any drips and holds it to my lips. Looking at him, I lean forward and taste. It’s delicious. A few drops of sauce run down my lip and I raise my hand to wipe it away. Before I realize what’s happening, Tristan grabs my hand leaning into me and sucks the sauce off of my lip, pulling my lip into his mouth in the process.
I let out a mumbled protest but he has me pinned against the refrigerator, his lips and body pressed against mine. I feel his erection pressing into me. My resistance weakened, I give in as I begin to replay the thoughts I had of him earlier while pleasuring myself in the shower. He was ravaging my naked body, filling me completely and the thoughts of my fantasy makes me wet.
Finally he pulls away and holds his gaze directly into my eyes. He looks pleased with himself. I give him my best seductress stare and then abruptly slap him across the cheek, letting him know who’s in charge. Tristan doesn’t even touch his cheek but smiles instead.
“Worth every second,” he coolly says and turns his attention back to the stove checking on the sauce and noodles. Satisfied with their progress, he pours me a glass of wine and offers me a seat at the table. I watch as he dishes and plates our dinner.
“Where did you learn to cook?”
“During my time in Italy. I have family there.”
He brings us plates and it looks at good as it smells. Sitting down I say to him, “Tell me something in Italian.”
He says, “Ho intenzione di fare la mia strada con voi stasera.”
“Fluent in Italian I see or is it just a phrase you memorized?”
Tristan looks a bit insulted and replies, “I also know French and am well versed in it’s culture.”
“So the romantic languages? Hmmm.” I say with a sly smile on my face alluding to other aspects cultures of romantic languages are known for. “So your little phrase in Italian, what did it mean? Probably something like, “You think you’re going to have me tonight.”
He laughs, and says, “That’s funny. I saw the look in your eyes. You plan to have me for dessert.”
I raise my eyes feigning shock to buy myself some time. “Please, if anyone already has ideas it’s you. I’m here because my boss said I have to.”
“Now you’re playing the victim. If you didn’t want me, you wouldn’t be here now. And you certainly would have left after the kiss.”
Damn it, he’s got me. The kiss was a test and I failed. I try and turn the tables on him, “You want me, I could feel how much and not just from the kiss.”
He smiles a slightly embarrassed smile. “I do like you and want you…to have dinner and dessert with me.”
Damn him. “That’s a half assed confession.”
He smiles again knowing that not giving me the satisfaction of knowing I’m right is driving me wild. He smile widens and melts me. If only he knew that he could have me any second he wants. Or maybe he does and is just toying with me, driving me crazy on purpose. Two can play that game. I decide to turn up the heat and slip my foot out of my shoe and begin rubbing his leg seductively.
As my foot caresses his leg, he shows no reaction so l journey upward more aggressively. Finding his inner leg, he surprises me my spreading his leg farther apart. I take the bait and my foot nestles up against his crotch. He’s not fully hard…yet. Rubbing his cock, I can feel it grow and stiffen as my pussy gets wet and my nipples harden.
“I’m out of wine,” I say after taking the last sips. Our game of cat and mouse now includes trying to make the other blink first. It’s his turn and in a shrewd move, he dumps the wine from his glass in to mine.
“Problem solved,” he says smiling even bigger now that he knows he’s outsmarted me.
“Touché.”
Continuing to rub his cock, it’s grown and feels nice and hard. That should leave him with a nice case of blue balls. “Well, dinner has been lovely and you are an amazing cook, but it’s getting late and I need to be going,” I say as I stand up and begin making my way to the door. “Thanks for a lovely evening.”
He catches my arm and spins me around. “You can’t leave yet, at least not until you’ve let me entertain you with some dancing.”
Dancing? He has my interest peaked and that fact that he’s not willing to let me walk out gives me the upper hand. “Let me guess, you learned to dance in Italy as well?”
“No, Vienna.” He turns on the stereo and the apartment comes alive with the sounds of a waltz.
With one hand he takes my purse and sets it down while taking my other hand and pulling me close. He begins to waltz me around his place masterfully moving around the tables, couches, chairs and even through the kitchen. Even more amazing is that he never took his eyes off of me the entire time. I’m melting even more into him. But my sassy Irish spirit wants to break him first.
He spins me away from him and then pulls me in close and wraps his arms around me. This time I don’t wait for him to kiss me, I close my eyes and lean in, lips pursed. He readily accepts my invitation and presses his lips firmly against mine. It sends shivers down my spine and straight to my pussy. Pushing my tongue past his lips, he allows me to explore his mouth and does the same to me. All the while, I’m unbuttoning his shirt which I pull off of his shoulders.
My hands roam his well toned chest and abs before making their way down to his belt and pants. He allows me to undress him as we continue to kiss. As I undo his pants and push them to the floor, my lips and tongue work their way down to his nipples and I gently bit and lick them. Reaching down I grab his hard cock and wrap my hand around his very thick shaft and begin to slowly stroke it from tip to balls.
He moans and pulls my lips back up to his. I keep stroking, slowly. My hand going up and down and back and forth on his shaft. When I get to the top of his swollen head, I let my thumb rub a few circles before heading down. Only sheer will power is stopping me from dropping to my knees and taking him in my mouth or even better yet, pushing him down and lowering myself on to him.
I feel his knees buckle a little bit and know it’s time to make my move. Leaning back I break our kiss and step back giving him one final stroke and a smile as I turn and head back towards the door. Arms handcuffed by his shirt, pants around his ankles, I’ll be at the sidewalk before he gets to the front door.
Casually strolling to the front door, I reach down about to grab my purse when Tristan picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.
“Oh what a naughty girl you are.”
Normally I’d be turned on my this macho man move but hearing his words it’s hard to concentrate on them because I’m still stunned that he caught me until I look over by the couch and see that he had stepped out of his pants and I hadn’t noticed. Damn it. I got cocky.
He carries me back over to the couch. As he lowers me, he grabs onto my dress and I literally fall out of my dress and land on the couch wearing nothing but my thong and heels. The speed at which this is happening is mind blowing and as I sit there wide eyed and mouth agape, he straddles me on the couch and takes advantage of the opportunity and sticks his rock hard cock in my mouth.
I start to push him away but he grabs my hands and pins them against the couch. He’s got me where he wants me. Giving in, I start taking him deeper and deep, really wetting my mouth and letting my tongue work his head and shaft. Seeing that I’ve stopped fighting, he realizes my arms and I grab a handful of ass in each hand.
Looking up at him, I give him the doe eyes that say, “I submit,” and I watch him close his eyes and tilt his head back. He’s mine to tease and play with. With one hand on his balls, I start really working his cock, stroking and sucking it. He moans loudly with pleasure. But all of a sudden, he grabs my head and pulls his cock out so fast that there was a “pop”.
He bends down and grabs my ankles and in one motion, pulls my legs upward which lands me on my back. His mouth is on my clit in an instant. This wasn’t the plan but plans change and I can leave after he pleasures me. I lie back and allow him full access to everything between my thighs. His tongue and finger work in concert as they tease, rub, and excite me beyond what I had already worked myself up to.
Tristan certainly knew what he was doing and he was doing it well. His tongue swirling and biting my clit, fingers probing, licking my juices as he dove deep in me, he even found my g-spot and I began to tighten up and had to bit my lip to hold in my screams of pleasure. I was well on my way to orgasm.
“Take me to the bedroom,” I asked breathlessly.
He obliged as he stood up and pulled me up as well. With his hand, he motioned down a hallway and I went first with him right behind me. The bedroom was large and spacious from what I could tell the light from the street lamps that was able to make it’s way in around the curtains. He guided me to one side of the bed.
Coming up behind me, he wraps his arms around me and kisses my neck and pinches my now hard nipples.
“Lie down, I want to get on top and ride you,” I whisper to him.
He does as I request and I climb on, straddling him. I lean forward reaching back and grabbing his cock and guide it into me. Sliding down easily, I begin slowly rocking my hips back and forth sinking down deeper on his shaft, filling myself completely. Closing my eyes, I reveal in the wondrous feeling. His hands and on my breasts as mine are on his chest as I steady myself. Slowly grind myself into him I find the perfect rhythm and begin riding him hard.
For a little extra pleasure, mine to be exact, I reach forward and pinch his nipples and pull until my fingers come off. I hear him gasp with the pain. Still riding him hard and feeling his cock hit all the right spots, I reach out slap him as I moan. With some “Oh god’s and yes, yes, yes, I rake my fingers and nails down his chest. He winces in pain but I ignore it and ride him harder and faster, bringing myself even closer to orgasm.
I reach out and grab his wrists and hold his arms down. Slapping him one more time for good measure, I cry out as I orgasm. A few more thrusts as my body is shaking and I collapse on him, breathless. He’s still hard and in me but I’m too exhausted to move or care. We lie there for some time until I roll off and begin to crawl across the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks but in more of a I don’t think so kind of tone.
In a nonchalant way, I reply, “To clean up.”
He grabs my ankle and I turn and kick him in the chest and try to hurry off of the bed but to no avail. Tristan grabs me by my calves and pulls me back and then grabs hold of my thighs and pulls me even closer. I try to fight but he has me face down and a hand on my shoulder. My plan has backfired.
His feet spread my legs apart just enough for him to bury his cock deep inside of me. My hair in his fist and him on top of me pounding away, I submit. I am so turned on again as I’ve never met a man that I couldn’t control or one that could control me. Tristan is a challenge, my challenge.
Tristan reaches a hand down under me and begins playing with my clit. He’s pounding me with thrusts so hard that he’s scooting me off of the bed. My second orgasm is close at hand and when I feel him tense up and explode inside of me, I cum again as well. This time he collapses on top of me and we lay there for a while, my tits hanging off of the edge. Finally he goes soft and rolls off of me.
I manage to get up and my wobbly legs get me too the restroom. “Damn he fucked me good,” I think to myself.
I come back out and he’s turned on a light. He’s laying on the bed in his full glory and he is a beautiful sight.
“Thanks for dinner, it was delicious, but I have to go,” I say as I smile and walk back down the hallway. I’m not willing to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he just gave me the best fucking of my life.

“See, when were not fighting, the fucking is pretty good,” he calls after me down the hallway.
He’s right but I just smile and keep walking. Slipping my dress back over my head and throwing my thong into my purse, I leave. No Tristan? Surprising, surely he wouldn’t let me leave without trying to get me to spend the night. Unless I was just a conquest, notch on the headboard or just a fuck.
“Oh hell no,” I say to myself and just as I reach the main doors, I turn around and head back up to give him a piece of my mind. I’m nobody’s notch on the headboard or good time floozy.
Marching right up to his door I notice that it’s open just a crack and I know I closed it tight. Pushing the door open, I walk in.
“In the bedroom,” I hear him call out.
Oh bloody hell. This is exactly what he wanted and I played right into it. I think quickly and I walk deliberately down the hallway, my footsteps echoing.
“I knew you’d come back,” he says with a smug look on his face.
What arrogance. “Yeah, your bloody right you knew I’d come back because you knew that I wouldn't accept that half ass fucking you gave me. I came back so you could finish the job.”
And that was when the fight started.