Exploring the Ring of Kerry

Perhaps we should have realised that the express from Cork to Dublin was going to be a lot busier than our first coach. It was a little more than half full, but the passengers had spread themselves evenly around the seats, leaving no space for a horny couple to get it on.

Aoife turned sideways in her seat to face me, whispering, "What will we do now?"

"Fuck, I don't know!" I replied.

Her hand stroked the back of my neck, and I looked into the beautiful blue pools of her eyes, full of disappointment. I put my hand on her thigh, stroking it gently. For the first time, we weren't touching each other passionately, but comforting each other in the gloomy realisation that our plans for further exploration each other's bodies had been scuppered.

The engine started up, and the coach begin to move off. We remained locked in that loose embrace, slumped on our sides in our seats, facing each other. It was nearly ten minutes before Aoife broke the silence, "I so need to get off".

"I'm so sorry that I've got you on this bus under false pretences... Are you always quite this horny, Aoife?"

She gave a sharp laugh, and flashed me a smile. "Medical school is crazy busy... I have so little time for myself, so I do... And I've been back in Killarney with family for two months, doing only what a good Irish girl can... masturbating furiously!"

I moved my hand around her backside, caressing it, adding a sexual dimension to my comforting stroking of her thigh. "You know, I reckon you knew exactly what you were doing when you got on the bus in Killarney, right up to blowing my cock and my mind."

"Sure, I was a wee bit horny, so I was. Then I caught you eyeing up my tits..."

I brought my free hand around her hip and up to left breast, where no one could see. I drew my palm gently over its curves, fascinated at how it responded and moved under my touch.

She read my mind. "The puppies have a mind of their own, so they have. I think they like you."

I felt her nipple nuzzle into my palm through the fabric.

"Jayzuss, I need fucked!" she exclaimed, throwing her head back in dejection and pushing her breast into my hand with a hunger for more.

I bent my head down and warmly kissed her neck. She looked at me with deep longing, and her hand on my neck pulled me in for a passionate kiss. I could taste the rich, malty stout on her lips and tongue, remembering that the last time we kissed I was tasting my own cum on her.

When we came up for air, I shared the thought with her, "Last time I kissed you, I could taste my cum in your mouth".

Aoife trembled slightly, getting turned on by the memory. "You tasted so good, young fella."

"I'm sorry I was so rough when I came; I feel I abused your mouth for my own sexual release." I did truly feel undeserving, spoilt even.

"You're not sorry for one moment: you loved it. Sure, and I loved feeling your hot, salty cum squirting into my mouth." She was getting more turned on, and her right hand began caressing my cock through my trousers. "Shit! I shouldn't have ordered us food, and just led you to the pub toilet and let you fuck me senseless!"

"Mmm..." I murmured at the thought of it. I moved my hand down to her waist, and then up under the curtain of her vest top. I squeezed my fingers into the cup of her bra, my fingertips searching out, finding and titillating her erect nipple.

She responded by unzipping my fly and slipping her hand inside. She was through my boxers and tickling my cock with admiration, "Hello now, lovely English cock!"

My body stiffened up in the uncomfortable position, my cock fully hard under Aoife's gentle strokes. I was sure someone was looking at us, and I strained my head to look around. Everyone was in their seats, and the blue-cardigan woman was looking out of her window, watching us pass through the outskirts of Cork. Aoife's hand grasped my cock, and I pulled myself back to her. She started pumping me as best she could in the position. I moved my hand from out of her bra cup, and into its opposite number, realising that the woman across from us would be able to see exactly what I was doing if she turned toward us. Aoife shifted her weight, pushing her breast into my hand and getting a better angle on my cock. She reinforced her grip and began wanking me more vigorously, and I squeezed her breast with pleasure. I noticed that she was glancing over my shoulder at our 'third wheel'.

"Get your hand off my tits!" she whispered firmly to me, and I thought that we must have been seen, but then she continued, "...and put it in my pants!"

I obediently withdrew my hand and attempted to slide it under the tight waistband of her jeans, only getting trapped at my knuckles.

"Doesn't an English gentleman open a door for a lady now?" she riddled me.

I paused, looking to her eyes, before realising what she meant, and unbuttoned her jeans. This new vista was one of her perfect belly button floating on the pale sea of her abdomen that washed on the dark shores of green satin and lace. The smooth fabric of her knickers puckered and swelled slightly as it curved over the headland of her pubic hair, before crashing perilously down between her pale legs. I drank in the geography for a long minute, and she remained still under my gaze like a cartographer proudly holding back the edges of a map.

She shifted from her lower hip, back into a more seated position so she could spread her legs wider. "Mark, I need your fingers in my cunt now!" she demanded.

I teased back the upper hem of satin with my fingertips and probed into the warm, humid tangle of her pubic hair. With a flat hand, I pushed around the curvature of her crotch, my middle finger lightly riding over the crease of the opening to her cunt. She breathed deeply, and I could feel her lungs push out her ribs against my forearm. I curled my middle finger back, lightly ploughing her little furrow. Her head lolled back as she emitted an "Ohh!".

I heard a cough behind me, and I froze. I was about to remove my hand, when Aoife's eyes bore into mine, telling me that I couldn't bail out. So, I remained frozen in position, my hand clamped by the elastic of her underwear against her quivering crotch.

She returned to pumping my cock, leading by example, but the angle wasn't easy. I returned to curling and uncurling my middle finger along her outer folds. She eased up on the awkward movement inside my pants, and refocused on enjoying my touch in hers. My finger sank little by little as her fleshy furrow slickened slightly and yielded to me. Her breathing synchronized to the movement, heavy and slow. I made contact with her inner opening, and she let out another "Ohh!"

Another cough came from the same place. I froze once more. Aoife breathed out sharply in annoyance, her body tensing under me. She placed her hand on my wrist encouraging me to keep moving in her knickers. I hesitantly began once more to move my finger in long strokes the length of her cunt opening. She began to relax again under my touch, "Mmm!"

From behind me came a sharp hissing intake of breath, quickly released as a percussive tut, directed so that we both heard it clearly. Aoife tensed up again. Her hand came to my wrist and pulled me out of her underwear. She pulled up on the waistband of her jeans and quickly buttoned them. My hand hung limp in my lap beside my gaping fly.

"I am having none of this prudery!" she hissed angrily at me. She pulled back, sat upright and straightened her hair and her top, before standing up, and throwing one leg then the other over my slumped form. Once she had climbed out of the corner, I straightened up in the seat, zipping my trousers.

Aoife put her right hand up on the luggage rack to steady herself against the swaying of the bus, nonchalantly placing her other hand in the pocket of her jeans. "Excuse me, madam!" she purred — suddenly sweet and polite — to the other woman on the back seat. The middle-aged woman looked up at Aoife, and I could see from her eyes that she was steeling herself for a confrontation. "I am so, so sorry to bother you. I hope we weren't disturbing your journey now." As she spoke, Aoife lowered herself down to perch on the seat beside the woman. I could see that her charm was beginning to melt her opponent's demeanour. "You see now, my husband and I are just now after getting hitched. We're away on our honeymoon, we are, see." I then understood why she had hidden her left hand in her pocket. "I don't want to be a nuisance to you at all, madam, but I need to have some time alone with my new man before we get into Dublin. Would you mind awfully much at all moving down the bus to another seat, so to give us some privacy now?" Although Aoife's back was to me, I knew that her ever-so blue eyes were bearing pleadingly into the woman's soul.

"Well, I don't know, young lady. You're quite an impertinence!" muttered the woman. Then she reached up to the headrest in front of her and pulled herself to standing.

Aoife pushed herself back into the middle, aisle seat to give the woman room.

The woman looked way down the coach, and fixed her eye on a spot much nearer the front. She squeezed past Aoife, turned briefly to the two of us saying, "God bless your nuptials!" and she was off to her new seat.

Aoife turned and whispered, "We Irish are the most prudish people on the planet, but we're also insufferably polite". She climbed over my legs, back again into the corner. Rather than sitting straight down, she smirked down at me, holding my gaze for a few seconds. Then she suddenly unbuttoned her jeans, hooked her thumbs into the waistband on each side, and pulled both jeans and knickers down past her knees. She straightened up, presenting a luscious carpet of curled black hair that furnished the cusp of the entrance between her legs. As I stared, she wrapped the fingers of both hands behind my neck, leant in and whispered in Irish, "Beannú do mo phit beag". She straightened up a little and pulled my face towards her crotch. I inhaled her warm scent — slightly musky, slightly whiskey: sweet and heady — and I planted a reverent kiss in the heart of her rainforest. I took hold of her hips, and pressed my face into her, tracing firm kisses in an arc from one thigh to the other, passing over her lower abdomen and pubic hair. I caught the reflection of her high, round exposed arse in the window, and realised that any of the good people of Fermoy out on the streets were getting a glorious glimpse at an Irish treasure as the bus swung through the town.

I pulled the half-naked young woman down into the corner seat, and she flopped down, kicking off her green ballet flats. I moved myself down to the floor between her legs, and leant in so that my mouth was by her ear. "Now it's your turn, Aoife. You deserve this...", I remembered our agreed wording, "I'm going to eat out your cunt!" Her bare backside squirmed in the seat, and my cock hardened at the word.

She pulled one bare foot out of her clothes, and parted her legs as wide as she could in front me. Kneeling, I lowered my head in line with crotch. I was close enough to smell her scent again, and my eyes locked onto juicy pink flesh — the same colour as her tasty nipples — opening in the frame of her silken black hair. I moved my head in, turning, and kissed down the inside of one thigh, and then the other. Her body warmed to my touch, and she let out little, blissful susurrations as I kissed her. I pressed my lips the top of her entrance, and she quivered under me. I slowly kissed all the way down her, and swirled my tongue once as a flourish. Her quivering came in gentle waves as she responded to every move.

I moved back up a little, opened my mouth, extended my tongue, and I began to lap at her entrance gently. I tasted her salty sweetness and knew I had new favourite flavour. I relaxed into lapping thirstily from her. Aoife's noises changed to a more audible "Mmm!" I picked up the pace a little, and probed a bit deeper with each lap. I continued for as long as I could before coming up for air.

"Don't stop now!" she sighed.

"Is that OK for you?" I asked, to which she nodded. I thought it was time for a little fun, and asked her, "So, how exactly do you spell 'Ee-fuh'?" Up until that point, I had only known her name phonetically from her first introduction.

She glared at me as if to say that Irish spelling was not part of this tour package. "'Tis spelt A... O... I... F... E...".

"Really? There's an O in there?" I asked quizzically, and she sighed getting despondent with my ignorance and the change of subject. I bowed my head down towards her neglected crotch, "Spell it to me slowly, Aoife", I demanded.

"A...", she sighed reluctantly.

"A...", I repeated, and drew my tongue in an apex up the left side of her opened cunt to just above her emerging clitoris, and then down the other side. She shuddered, and then shuddered again as drew a crossbar below her clitoral hood. "Next letter..."

"O...", she continued, this time much more interested in the letters of the alphabet.

"O...", I repeated, and gradually swirled my tongue in a wet circumnavigation of her cunt. As the tip of my tongue tripped over her clit, she quaked and involuntarily repeated the letter for me. "Next letter..."

"I...", she breathed in anticipation of learning how an 'I' might feel.

"I...", I repeated, and drew my tongue up from the base of her cunt, delving deeply up through her, until firmly pushing up into her clit, making her writhe and moan, until my wet tongue slipped over it — just as she had done to my cock on the other bus. "Next letter..."

"F...", she panted.

"F...", I repeated, and made the same motion as for 'I', but slightly to the left of centre. It was nowhere near as intense as the last letter, until I drew the upper horizontal straight through her clit. Aoife bucked sideways as I burrowed through her sweet spot from left to right. I moved down for the lower horizontal stroke, and took the liberty of interpreting it as an excuse to plunge my tongue as deep into her cunt as I could. Her back arched and she groaned as my tongue entered her passage and then retreated with aching slowness. "Next letter..."

"E...", she moaned, desiring it.

"E...", I repeated, and gave her another 'F', but taking longer for my tongue to cross her clit on the upper bar, and going deeper inside her with the middle bar. The additional lower bar of the 'E' wasn't very straight, but swirled around her perineum. That wasn't as intense, but mewing susurrations showed it gave her a warm sensation. "I like learning to spell your name, Aoife."

"You're full of surprises, young fella! I don't think I'll ever write my name in the same way again!" I straightened up from kneeling, leant in and kissed her passionately. "I can taste my juices on your tongue", she whispered.

"I love the way you taste. I could get gastronomical about eating your cunt!" And we smiled and giggled at each other.

"You know I have middle names, so I do!"

That was my cue to resume stimulating her with my tongue. I'm not sure I can remember her middle names, as they came as a string of letters reinterpreted as lascivious assaults on her undefended cunt. I remember 'G' worked to good effect: mostly the sweep of an 'O' but spiralling deep inside her. 'M', 'R' and 'T' all involved some serious teasing of her clit that made her respond vigorously, and 'S' was a slow meander across her now throbbing clit all the way down snaking across her pulsating cunt. There was an added thrill when she said, "And my confirmation name is spelt...", and I worked my way through its letters, giving her a new interpretation of a name given her by her priest.

Eventually the stream of letters and names ended and I came up for air. We kissed again. My lips and cheeks were now covered with her sweet juice, and she enjoyed my sharing it with her. Then she licked two fingers of her right hand, covering them with saliva, before pushing them into her cunt. She closed her eyes and began to masturbate vigorously right in front of my eyes, pulling her splayed knees up higher onto the seat to pull herself completely open. Her eyes opened and met mine, and she smiled, knowing how much I was enjoying watching her ram her fingers in and out of her cunt. She closed her eyes so that I could continue to watch in privacy, as she built up speed.

She slowed, removed her fingers with a sigh, and brought her slick hand to my mouth to suck on. When I had cleaned her fingers of her juice, she pulled my head close to hers, scanning my eyes. "I need you to make me come now." She took my hand and sucked on two fingers, covering them with saliva as she had done for her own. "I need you to fuck me with these two fingers. You can do it quite hard. I want you to lick and suck my bud as you're doing it, and don't you dare stop till I come."

I nodded wordlessly, and she wriggled in her seat to prepare herself for the onslaught. I had my orders. I eased my fingers, slick with her saliva, slowly into her as she bore down, pushing herself into my hand. I bent down and sucked on her clit, and her body arched on the seat. I flicked my tongue around it, making her shudder. Then I began to piston my fingers in and out of her in a smooth, firm rhythm. Aoife threw her head back, arching her body, allowing herself to take the punishment she had ordered for herself. She began to vocalise with "Huhh... huhh... huhh" in rhythm with my fingers. As I tongued her clit she produced a drawn-out "Uww...", and as my fingers pounded her at the same time, that new sound rolled into the other, "UwwHuhhUwwHuhhUww". My tongue flicked her clit, and she jolted electrically, adding a "Ngg" into her vocal score.

Her hands tousled my hair, and then pulled my head hard into her sopping cunt. I got what breath I could through my nose, and didn't dare stop. Her hands dropped from my head and fell behind her knees, as she pulled her legs back on the seat, opening her cunt to me as wide as should could. I began finger fucking her ever more vigorously. The movements of the bus and my fingers together jolted her all over the seat. Her vocalising grew louder and faster in response. I thought about removing my fingers to apply more saliva, but the inner walls of her cunt were drenched in her juice. Her clit danced, swollen on the tip of my tongue. She had opened herself so wide for me, that I was becoming merciless with her. I added a third finger easily into the action. It stretched her open more, and she affirmed the change with a panting, "Yuhss... Yuhss... Yuhss...".

"Cuh... meen... nguh..." she strained, barely able to indicate that she was about to come. I sucked hard on her clit, which had begun to pulsate by itself, as I pounded her hard with my three fingers. Her upper body bucked forward over me, and she grabbed my shoulders as if her long fingers were talons. She violently pushed her crotch into my face, knocking me a little backwards and off rhythm. She moaned a primal scream, and her cunt clamped my fingers tight. In quick waves, she bucked, moaned and contracted her cunt tightly on my hand. I held my fingers in place until the pulses began to slow. As I began to retreat, she grabbed my wrist to make sure that I slid out slowly. My fingers came away coated in her viscous secretions, and her cunt remained stretched open, with white ribbons of her juices stretched across the blackness of her gape, like a newly sighted galaxy.

I looked up at Aoife's face. Her hair was a mess, her pale skin beaded with sweat, and her thin vest top rendered even more translucent because of it. She was panting, trying to catch her breath, her cunt and clit still giving her small aftershocks that electrified her body. She took a few deeper breaths, regaining a little more composure, and pulled me in on top of her, kissing me gratefully. "You're..." she drew another breath, "You're really not bad at that".