Date: Mon, 14 Mar 2005 00:38:21 EST
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: The Fabulous Fitzpatrick Featherbed (Sanitized)

		THE FABULOUS FITZPATRICK FAMILY FEATHERBED
			    (SANITIZED VERSION)
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     [NOTE: A "sanitized" story is a story that I have modified in order to
comply with my credit card billing company's policy, which forbids stories
involving sex with minors, incest and/or rape.  With the permission of
Nifty's archivist, I am posting this story here, as the change is
sufficient to make this a quite different story.  Any who wish to read the
unsanitized version of this story can find it at Nifty's Incest category
or, of course, at my own site's "Rogue Moon" site (see above).]

     So it's the story of the Fitzpatrick Family Featherbed you'd be
wanting, then? Sure and that's a story dear to me own heart, lad. Sit in me
lap, lad, and I'll be a' telling you the story, then.
     It was in the time of the Troubles when the Fitzpatrick Family
Featherbed became a part of the Fitzpatrick family. Those were hard times
for one and all and it was a lucky man who would have more than a couple of
shillings to rub between his fingers. For that reason, little things could
seem bigger to them than it would be to you and me, and so it was with the
bed.
     One of the Fitzpatrick men was a lord's servant, and it was he who
first got the bed. And what a bed! Six feet wide and eight feet long and
made of the finest oak you would ever dream of finding in a forest with a
maiden sleeping in it under a spell. He took it home to his wife and she
was the one what made the mattress, a feather mattress, plucking many a
fine fat goose of its feathers and adding them to the mattress until it was
as fine as any lord and lady ever had the sleeping of. When they passed on
to go a' knocking at the Pearly Gates and present their tickets inside as
they had them or not, the bed itself passed on into the keeping of his
eldest boy and so on through the years. It was a fine, grand inheritance to
be a' having, for the bed would make any hovel seem like a mansion and any
man sleeping in the king of the county.
     But you'll be a' wanting to hear of the rest of the story, and that is
of Kevin Fitzpatrick when he was coming to have the use of the bed. He'd
been widowed and left childless some six years before, his wife a' dying in
the giving birth to her last child, a boy what also died a few days after.
But she left behind her husband and their many friends in the county and so
it was that three of the friends each sent their oldest sons to Kevin
Fitzpatrick to help him out on his small acreage to pay back their debts
from the year before.
     There was the eldest boy, also named Kevin as his very own father in
the next village and who wouldn't name their eldest boy with such a fine
Irish name? So they called him Kevin the Younger, or just Younger, Younger
was nineteen and a fine, strapping lad with the glint in his eye that he
got when his father laid eyes on his mother the night they made him. He had
a mischievous streak in him, which made him something of a leader among the
boys both in his own house and around the village.
     And there was the middle boy, Christopher, or Chris, who was eighteen
and with the full lips of his own mother, so that he always looked as
though he was ready to kiss you. Christopher was also the smartest of the
three, the one who was going to be a doctor or a priest or if he was very
smart, the one who would first get on a boat for America for he was one who
would look around when he finally had the money for it and see that the
only real future for any Irishman lay just behind the Lady Liberty in New
York harbor.
     And there was Kelly, also eighteen like Christopher but a few months
younger and the smallest in body of the three.  But he was a spunky,
wise-mouthed rascal of a lad he was. Puts me in mind of you, lad. His
cheeks were soft as the skin of a ripe pear and as soft as your mother's
kiss when she tucks you in at night. He was the one who could make you
laugh when he was getting into trouble, which any young boy knows is the
way to get away with it, make the grown-up laugh and he'll not be able to
punish you the more.
     But the problem for Kevin Fitzpatrick was that he had these three boys
living with him when he inherited the Bed, whose own bed was a small, hard
mattress filled with only the straw cut from the fields, and it not big
enough for all three of them, and that it was gave Kevin such a problem. It
wouldn't be right for him to sleep all alone in that big bed while they
crowded together on a bed so small that one of them had to sleep with his
head sticking out of the foot of the bed, with his companion's feet shoved
in between his own so that when the morning came after the tossing and
turning, the three boys were tied about each other and it was a like a
three-bent-nail puzzle to untangle them in the mornings.
     Each of the three boys felt he had the answer, and that it was that
he, and not the others, should be the one to join Kevin Fitzpatrick in the
family bed.
     "Sure, and I'm the oldest here," Younger Kevin said to his
friends. "So it's me should be in the bed, and the two of you will be
comfortable then in the old."
     "Sure and it's comfortable we'll be if we hang ourselves by our feet
from a nail," Chris said. "But it's not in that bed that we'll be
comfortable. And why should you be the one who shares the feather-bed, and
me the one who was the godchild of dear departed Christopher Fitzpatrick
and a favorite godson, that I was." And Chris wiped away a sentimental
tear.
     "You're both wrong," Kelly chipped up so as not to be left out. "If
it's one of us has to be in bed with Mr. Fitzpatrick, shouldn't it be the
one who will crowd him the least? With me snuggled up next to you,
Mr. Fitzpatrick, you'll think you're sleeping alone, and so will I."
     "And you with the way you crawl around in your sleep?" Chris said
slyly. And to his friend Kevin, "And the way you snore, it's like a banshee
flew in the door who stubbed her toe on the sash."
     "Listen to you, you thinking that you don't snore! Saints preserve us!
If you think you don't snore, you just stay awake tonight and listen to
yourself sleep!" Kevin the Younger said. "You'll be hearing what I hear
every night; which is enough to make me wish that I could pull off me ears
and shove them up me bum, so I could have something more pleasant to listen
to."
     Kevin Fitzpatrick held up his hand. "Now it's not to blows you'll be
coming, lads," he said sternly. "We'll just give you each a night with me
and we'll see which of you deserves to be warming the bedcovers each
night. You lads go fetch the broom and we'll take three of the seven straws
it has left from it, and the longest straw will spend the first night, then
the middle straw the second night and the short one the third, and then
it's my own mind I'll make up which of you should be the one sharing the
bed."
     The three boys agreed that this was only fair and Kelly fetched the
straws. It was the older man who held them in his hand and the other two
who drew first, so Kelly can't be accused of cheating when he got the
longest straw. Chris, the middle, got the middle straw, and it was Kevin
the Younger who though he drew first, ended up with just a sort of nub of
straw.
     "Faith," he moaned when he saw it. "If this is what I've been sweeping
the floor with, it's no wonder the roaches are laughing at me so hard."
     Kelly threw his arms around the older man for joy. "I get to sleep
with Mr. Fitzpatrick!" he crowed out. "I'm going to take my Saturday night
bath tonight, so I can feel how soft it is."
     "Enjoy it while you can," Chris predicted dourly. "For it's the only
night you'll be getting in it.
     Night couldn't come soon enough for the eighteen year old boy. He took
his bath with special care and washed himself completely. He dawdled so
long in the bath that Kevin Fitzpatrick finally called him out, saying,
"Now it's out of the bath you be coming now! You get any more wrinkled and
it's me you'll be wanting to run the iron over you."
     So it was into the fabulous Fitzpatrick Family Featherbed that the
teenaged Kelly crawled, and he sidled in underneath Kevin Fitzpatrick's arm
and he said, "See how soft and warm I am for you, sir."
     "You're as soft as the sun in the springtime," the older man
agreed. Both wore nothing but the skin they had on the day they were born,
for that is how they all slept in those days and after all, who could be
affording to wear silk pajamas when breakfast was a chunk of bread and
lunch was a cold baked potato and supper might be nothing but your own
lower lip? And that is why the bed was such a luxury as they had never
known before.
     "This bed is just as soft as I'd always thought it would be," the lad
said in awe. "It's like I'm lying on the clouds of Heaven with the angels
playing a lullaby on their harps for me."
     And Kelly snuggled in closer to Kevin. "Are you warm enough now?" he
asked.
     "I'm warm as I can be," Kevin said to the boy. "Though I have to
wonder if your companions, being that they're bigger, wouldn't be the
warmer."
     Kelly was a truthful boy. "They're warm enough," he admitted. "But if
it's me you'll choose to share the bed with you from now on, there is more
that I can do than warm your body next to mine."
     "And what would that be, my young friend?" Kevin asked the boy.
     Kelly reached across the older man's body, stroked his chest with his
hand, and let it slide down his stomach. "You're much bigger than Younger
and Chris," he sighed. "You're bigger all over, I'll bet."
     And then Kelly's hand found the man's pride and joy and it was a proud
Irish tool indeed. Kelly found that his hand couldn't fit more than two
thirds of the way around it, and it took both of his hands to hold it
tightly. It was nine solid inches of Celtic potency and Kevin sighed like
the winds in the trees of autumn to feel the lad's hands upon it.
     "That's a part of me that hasn't been warmed in a long while," he said
to Kelly.
     "I'll warm it for you good," Kelly said sincerely. "I'll warm it the
way I warm Younger's and Chris' every morning."
     "Is that what you think it is, warming it up?" Kevin asked.
     "That's what I thought at first," Kelly admitted. "But Younger taught
me better. There's some white stuff inside it, and it has to be squeezed
out so it'll go soft again. And you squeeze it out like this!" And Kelly
began to pump the older man's shaft up and down while holding onto it
tightly.
     Kevin moaned at the way the small eighteen year old boy's hands felt
around his cock. "Sure and that's the way you should squeeze it," he
moaned. "Only it's faster you'll be wanting to do it."
     Kelly got onto his knees and began to use his entire arms to pump the
man's prick, pulling and squeezing up while his arms flailed about like a
baby bird's testing its wings.
     "Oh, come on, Mr. Fitzpatrick, sir, let it out," Kelly urged. "There's
got to be a lot of it in here, it's so big. But I'll squeeze it all out,
sir, don't you worry. I'll get every last drop out of it so you can sleep
on this nice soft bed really good without any stiff jimmy to keep you
awake."
     "Oh, yes, my lad, your hands are the blessings of the Little People,
they jump about so like leprechauns at a dance," Kevin groaned. "If you'll
keep up this jig but a moment more, you'll see how much you can squeeze out
of this poor, dear man who hasn't been squeezed in many a month."
     "Poor sir," Kelly crooned as he pounded the man's prick. "I'll milk it
all out of you, don't you worry none. Every bit of it."
     "Ah, ah, I can feel it building up," Kevin moaned. "It's going to be
ponderous load of it, my boy, I think that if you aren't careful, you'll
splash it all over your sweet, clean, body."
     "I don't care, sir! You got to get it out of you so you can sleep,"
young Kelly said bravely. "You let it splash all over me, and I'll wash it
away come morning."
     "Ah, ah, ah, here it comes, me lad, here it comes." And with a many a
groan that would delight a wolf to give to the full moon, Kevin burst loose
his load and he sprayed the young boy with it in a wash that covered the
strapping young lad from his head to his stomach. Kelly let the white flood
hit him and he laughed to see how much relief he gave to his father's best
friend, and he joyed that his hand had brought the man the relief he so
sorely needed. True to his word, he continued to squeeze and milk the dear
man's pud while covered with hot white jizz that drizzled and dripped from
his body which had just been cleaned so well.
     Done at last, Kevin's cock did in fact shrivel down to a soft lump and
Kelly gently let it go and said, "Now Mr. Fitzpatrick, sir, you can see how
much you need me in this bed with you at night, so you won't be having
these stiff jimmys keeping up awake."
     "True it is that I could get used to your hands helping with my jimmy
every night," Kevin admitted. "But I must let your companions have their
fair chance," he cautioned.
     And Kelly bowed his head to acquiesce to the older man's decision.
     But young Kelly, fairly worn out by the labor of caring for the man's
stiff manhood, had slumped down with his head upon Kevin Fitzpatrick's
belly, and still covered with the sticky white jizz that is the source of
the Irish you know and love today, he slept. Kevin was too kind to rouse
the lad, so he left the boy just as he was, snuggled against his body and
with a smile on his face in slumber that was just the way his dear departed
wife had smiled. And with that comforting thought of the dead living on in
children, and in the soft comfort of the featherbed that had rested many a
weary Fitzpatrick head, Kevin Fitzpatrick slept.
     Kevin had to rise very early in the mornings to go to his job on the
farm, and he worked with a lighter heart. The bed was restful and Kelly's
caring ministration to him had eased his heart, and so his work was a joy
to him. So it was with a light heart that Kevin returned home from the
fields, and there it was that the middle lad, Chris was waiting for
him. "It's my night in the bed with you," he said when the older man walked
in the door.
     "That it is and you'll get your chance," Kevin promised him.
     "I'll be wanting my bath tonight," Chris said, "for I'll not be
outdone by my companion in anything at all."
     "I'm sure you'll be just fine," Kevin assured him. "And I'll give you
every chance the same as I gave him."
     With all the grace of a gazelle in his movements, Chris joined the man
in the bed that night and pressed his body against his bashfully. "Is this
the way of warming you up?" he asked.
     "It's a wonderfully warm lad you are." Kevin assured the boy. And
those lips of his, that always reminded him of his departed wife, beckoned
to him and he reached out and he kissed the boy's lips and they were soft
and warm and delightful against his own. "Ah, my lad," he said to the
middle lad. "Your lips are like my dear departed wife's, every part of
them, and it makes me think when I kiss them that she is back with me once
again."
     Chris was too young at Mrs. Fitzpatrick's passing to remember her, so
his heart wasn't burdened with the weight of knowing her. "Then kiss them
again, sir," he said. "For I like to feel your arms around me and I like
the feel of your lips against mine." And when Kevin reached for another
kiss, Chris was so bold as to gently suck the man's tongue into his mouth
and he suckled the fat pink worm and the older man sighed in the bliss of
feeling it once again.
     "Ah, but if that was the only way I miss that mouth," he sighed when
the kiss was done and his tongue was his own again. "I should be a happy
man."
     Chris was a bright lad, as I have said before, and he didn't need any
more than those words and the feel of the older man's shaft lying thick and
warm along his thigh to know what he meant. He smiled and said, "Then let
me show you how these lips can be yours every night if I can keep the
sharing of the bed with you." And Chris moved down Kevin's body the way
that his younger companion had, and this time it was not the hand which
touched the dear older man's manhood and life, it was those lips, those
marvelous lips, they had returned to Kevin once again in the body of his
friend's son and it was like a homecoming.
     Full, warm and rich, those lips encircled his cockhead and rich, warm
and full, they slid down his shaft, and Kevin's tool was bathed with warmth
and sweetness. Chris let his mouth pour its water over the man's dong and
like a boy bathing his dog; he bathed the man's dick and then began to
scrub it with those velvet lips!
     "Ah, my boy." Kevin said as the lad's lips began to slide up and down
on his pud, bringing with it in its wake the joys of the angels. "Your lips
are as soft as the down inside this featherbed, and I wish that you could
keep this up forever."
     Chris smiled around the man's prick and kept on his duties, but he
afterwards said that, if he could have talked, he would have replied, "Sure
and wouldn't that be something to explain to my friends? If I am to be
traveling all over town with Mr. Fitzpatrick's dick in my mouth, I might as
well stay home."
     But he was a dutiful lad and kept on nursing the older man's prick,
bringing the sturdy pud into a hard, shiny column of silver light and Kevin
was moaning with the delights which sounds like the tortured souls in hell,
and it's only the quality of the feeling which makes the difference. Chris
sucked the prick with all the skill and enjoyment of a long-experienced
master of the art, and Kevin was lifted up to heaven by the wings of the
lad's lips and it was with a howl of sheer joy that he erupted into the
boy's mouth and filled that warm maw with his seed, a gusher which wasn't
any the less than the night before, only this time it was the middle lad
who swallowed it, and swallowed he did, but even so, there was too much of
it and Chris snorted and coughed and dribbles of come slid out of his
nostrils and dripped from his mouth and squelched about as he continued to
plunge Kevin's dong in and out of his mouth. Just as his companion, he
didn't stop until he had drained every drop of the man's jism and then he
studiously licked up the mess that was made, until every bit of the jizz
was safely inside him but for the droplets that hung from his nose even
so. These he wiped away with his forearm and he crawled into the man's arm
and said, "And that, sir, is what I'll give you every night if you'll
choose me to share this bed with you from now on."
     "And where did you learn this dance of delight with your mouth, my
lad?" Kevin asked.
     "I've been practicing." Chris said shyly.
     "And that was obvious, if my cock had been a violin, you would have
been playing it down in Dublin at the theater to thunderous applause," the
older man assured him. "But who has been your teacher in this art of oral
delight?"
     "It's Younger," Chris admitted. "Now that he has reached his manhood
and has the full scattering of hair about his chest, he is eager to have
his virility tested every night, and so he climbs in the night onto my
chest and he shoves it into me. First I struggled against it, but no
longer, now indeed I am often the one who is seeking him out for I find it
to be a wonderful delight, the taste and feel of a man's cock, and now that
I've had the man-apple fully ripened on the vine, I'll not settle for the
smaller fruit of my companion the more. But say that I'll the one sharing
this bed from now on, and I'll be the happiest man in all of Eire."
     "True it is that I could get used to your lips nursing my jimmy every
night," Kevin admitted. "But I must let your friends have their fair
chance," he cautioned.
     And Chris bowed his head to acquiesce to Mr. Fitzpatrick's decision.
     The next day Kevin was again able to work cheerfully through the
day. He sang loudly on the walk home, tipping his cap to the ladies and
beaming at all who looked at him. Many said that he walked like the king of
creation, and there were whispers about his new acquisition, the fabulous,
fantastic Fitzpatrick Family Featherbed. "The bed must be a gift from the
Little People, charmed to bring all who sleep within it good fortune and
happiness." Old Lady McNamara declared, and there were many who agreed with
her.
     After they ate supper, Younger Kevin declared, "Now, sir, it is my
turn to share your bed tonight. I know the tricks my companions have used
to make you consider their case the kinder, but their childish games shall
be forgotten tonight."
     "Sure and that's a mighty powerful boast to be making," Kevin told the
nineteen year old. "You're gotten to be a man now, but there's a lot more
growing you need to do to become a man."
     When Younger came to the Featherbed, Kevin sniffed him. "Faith, but
you've been at my bay rum!" he said. "You're too young to be shaving, lad!"
     "I didn't shave my face," Younger said.
     "Then where were you taking my straight-razor to you, your arse?"
Kevin said. Then, "You did, you shaved your bum for me?"
     "I wanted to be smooth for you, sir," Younger said. "My hairs weren't
such a burden to remove."
     "But didn't the bay rum sting you?"
     "That it did," the boy said. "But it was to be done."
     Kevin was impressed. "Now that's the way of a man, all right!"
     "Now to earn my place in your bed," Younger sidled up next to the man,
and the kiss he laid on his lips was not that of a boy. Kevin found himself
with an ardent lover in his bed, the soft hands of the eldest boy were
stroking his body in ways that he hadn't felt for many a day.
     "Where have you been learning this?" he asked after a time.
     "My friends and I have been practicing with each other," Younger
admitted. "Finding out what feels good and what doesn't. It wouldn't do to
go to our wedding bed with no notion of what to do, but we shouldn't go
spoiling any young girl's chances of being a virgin for her husband, and
the whores take money that we don't have, and aren't very clean,
either. Better to tup your buddy in his bum and let him tup you."
     "That is the way of it," Kevin said. "I did the same with me own
chums."
     "Now I know that Kelly used his hands on you," Younger put his hands
down the older man's stomach and grasped the powerful glory of the
Fitzpatrick clan. "Did he do it for you something like this?" and he began
to pump his father's prick.
     "Ah, nay, he used both his hands, to get the better hold of it."
     "One is enough for me," Younger pointed out and proved it beyond all
doubt by the drubbing he gave the man's prong, he pummeled that shaft until
it was enraged and angry red at the tip.
     "And Chris probably used his so-rosy lips, I suppose," Younger said as
he slid under the covers.
     "He may have done something of the sort," Kevin admitted.
     Younger's lips weren't so fine as Chris', but Younger had experience
and then some in how to work what he had. A thin line of supple pleasure
gripped and greased their way over the already-incensed dong, so that Kevin
was once again groaning his delight at the warm ecstasy that another's
mouth can give a man at the end of a hard day of work.
     "Your lips are a match for Chris'," he gasped after a time. "But I
cannot say that you are the better."
     "Then let me now show you what Chris and Kelly can't give you,"
Younger said. "And also show you why I was at such pains to scrape me hairs
from me tuckerhole."
     He had slicked up Kevin's pud in no mean measure, and that thick
slippery slime did a fine duty by lotioning the path as Younger Kevin sat
on Elder Kevin's lap and guided the heavy schlong into his supple young
body.
     If a mouth has a warmth to it, the bum is the furnace that sends the
warm air up the long chimney to it. Kevin was wrapped up in a sea of fiery
softness that clutched and stroked him in sinuous rhythm, for Younger was
clenching his buns as he pulled upwards, and relaxing them as he let his
body fall back down.
     Kevin just lay on his back and decided that he was in heaven for
certain. "I could die now and not notice the difference between you and an
angel," he said to Younger. "Ride my shaft, boy, ride it and milk it all
out."
     "That I shall do," Younger declared and now he began to bounce on the
older man's dick, and the man reached up and grasped his lover's smaller
rod, a hot poker that proclaimed its eagerness to join the fray, and he
pumped it in time to his lover's strokes upon his own fuckpole, and Younger
gasped and his butt clutched the man even tighter.
     "Ah, it is the glory of the ages," Kevin muttered as his pleasure
built within him. "Sure and this is the delight that never ends. A man may
spend a night dancing with the fairies and come out to find a century has
passed and now, my lad, now I understand how he could do it! Ah, ride me,
lad, ride me hard!"
     "Ah yes, sir! Yes!" Younger moaned. "Fill me with your fire, fill me,
fill me!"
     And what man could be so hard as to not answer such a plea? Kevin
could not, he groaned and his cock burst upwards into the younger man's bum
with the explosions of a thousand fireflies lighting up at once. Younger's
eyes grew wide as he felt the hot seed spattering his insides and he moaned
and his little burst of clear seed flew out to sprinkle the older man's
chest, and as Kevin's climax left him drained and gasping, the young one
fell onto his chest with his own heavy sobs of relief and release.
     "Faith sir, but you're better than any of my buddies," he said. "Never
again shall I give to them, for you are the best of them all!"
     Kevin tenderly pulled the covers up over the both of them. "Rest, my
lad, and enjoy the Featherbed," he said. "For the softness of these billows
are matched by the softness of your skin and you are more than a match for
your companions."
     By the looks the younger lads gave him at breakfast, Kevin could tell
that they worried about their chances for future excursions in the
bed. Kelly had the nerve to ask the older man about it. "Sir, did you
promise Younger he could have the Featherbed?"
     "I've made no promises yet," Kevin said.
     "But you did say he was the better of us," Chris pressed in his turn.
     "I may have said something like that," Kevin admitted.
     "Then we lost!" Kelly wailed.
     "I didn't say that!"
     "Then what did you say?" Chris asked. "We heard you through the walls,
how could we help but hear, the way you were shaking the bed was shaking
the entire house. I thought to myself, if I were to die here because you
two were fucking too hard, how could I be explaining it to the priest on
Saturday afternoon when I say my confession?'
     Younger was unconcerned about his friend's excitement. "You each had
your turn and so did I," he said. "You can't be mad because I'm older than
you and know more than you."
     "You already chose," Kelly cried to Kevin Fitzpatrick.
     "I have not," Kevin said firmly. "I'll remember when I do choose that
you can't know as much as your companions know. I'll remember that, I
promise ye one and all."
     It was the best he could do. Kevin spent a good bit of the day
frowning as he did his labors. The men who had been asking his aid the day
before went to him caps in hand to ask him this day, and he answered them
in tones that were kind but not kindly.
     So Kevin was cheered some by this promise of better times to come. He
stopped at the pub to get a pint and considered again his dilemma. How
could he choose among these three fine lads. "Sure," he told
himself. "Younger knows more, but that made him less in each of
them. Kelly's sweet young hands are like a ballet dancer on the stage,
moving quickly and lightly. Chris' lips are the delights of the universe
when they wrap around me prick. And Younger, too, when he sits on my lap,
it's like an angel is resting there. If only I could have Kelly's hands,
Chris' lips and Younger's bum all at the same time...." And that was as far
as he had thought it out as he wended his way home and into the front door.
     He heard the noises before he opened the door and as he did, he got an
eyeful to match his earful. His lads were all on the Featherbed. Younger
had his young cock up Chris' butt and Kelly had his mouth on Chris' prick.
     Younger was sounding like a sergeant in the army trying to get his men
to all march in step. "Now, when you feel me pulling out, hold onto
it. Hold tight like you don't want me to pull it out at all. Kelly, you
have to keep your mouth wet all the time. Don't keep swallowing your spit,
you just dry out your mouth."
     "I can't breathe with his dick in me mouth," Kelly complained. "Me
nose is clogged up."
     "You have to figure out how if you want to suck a man's dick good,"
Younger said encouragingly. "I'll pull out of Chris and let you try mine
for a while."
     "Sure and what's going on here?" Kevin called out. "My own friends'
sons in me bed and fornicating in daylight. If the mothers of all three of
yours were here now, they'd be reaching for the whips."
     "We wanted to know how, too," Kelly said.
     "Know what?"
     "How to please you the way Younger did," Chris said. "If he knows more
than us, he can just teach us and then we'll know it, too."
     "And was this your idea?" Kevin asked the eldest.
     "Now sir, why would I want to be able to fuck my mates and have them
suck my dick every afternoon?" he asked innocently. "It's a pleasure to
teach my friends what they need to know."
     "Sure and it's a pleasure, is it?" Kevin said. "If there's teaching to
be done, it's me who'll do it. Now scoot over while I strip out of these
old work clothes, and then we'll begin your schooling, all three of you."
Kevin got into the bed and said, "Now, all of you, Kelly does the best with
the hands, so Younger, you and Chris watch how he does it." To the
youngest: "Okay lad, show them how to handle a man's prick for him."
     Kelly beamed with the praise and he caught hold of Kevin's cock, which
was still half-soft, and with a few expert strokes he brought it to full
turgidity. "Now you see how he did that?"
     "I think so," Chris said.
     "Maybe you'd better have him show us some more," Younger said
doubtfully.
     "Okay Kelly, get to pumping it," Kevin said. "Now pay attention, I'll
expect you to be able to do the same if you're in this bed."
     Chris and Younger watched as Kelly gave the older man a good pounding;
his two young hands plied their skill avidly.
     Kevin was gasping and he said, "Now then, a hand is wonderful but
there's more to it than that. Chris, you know how to suck better than any
other I've ever known, so show your mates how to suck my dick."
     Chris leaned over and Kelly held the prick steady for his friend as he
guided it into those lusciously full lips and they slathered the dry
cockhead with boiling, churning juices that awakened the surging tide
within.
     "See how he...moves his lips...slowly and steadily," Kevin panted as
the middle lad wrung pleasure from him. "It's like he...is playing...a
violin in an...orchestra...it is!"
     "He does have a nice rhythm going," Younger admitted. "I bet I can
match that with my bum, though."
     Chris, get your mouth to watering it down for your friend," Kevin
said. "I can see that your talents aren't competing with each other so much
as they help each other out."
     Chris did as he was bidden, pouring his saliva over the man's prick,
and when Younger sat down on it, he gasped. "Ah, that's so much better," he
groaned. "It's like my bunghole was made for your cock, sir! It fits in so
well!
     Chris, not to be left out of Mr. Fitzpatrick's pleasure, moved down
and began to suckle the man's balls as Younger did his clutching, grasping
ride. Not to be outdone, Kelly's hands found and played with the man's
tits, the fingers plying over the nipples and twisting and wringing
pleasure from them.
     With so much hitting his senses all at once, poor Kevin was at the
lads' mercy and he lay there and they had their pleasures with him, Younger
fucking himself, Chris sucking his balls, Kelly playing his tits like they
were a pair of marbles, and he moaned, and his body filled with climax, not
just his cock, his entire body felt like one enormous orgasm and he was
yelling out his pleasure and the three boys urged his pleasure even higher
and when he climaxed, he poured his very soul out in it, and what was left
over felt much like an emptied bladder after the visit to the pisspot, an
empty, unneeded sort of thing.
     "So, sir," Younger Kevin said. "Have you made up your mind which of us
will be sleeping in your bed with you."
     "I have indeed," Kevin proclaimed. He looked into three eager faces
and grinned at them, until they were ready to burst.
     "Oh sir! Tell us!" Kelly begged.
     "Come on, sir!" Chris said.
     "Yes sir! Do tell," Younger urged him.
     "There's only one thing to do. The best one of you to share this bed
is all of you. I say that you can all sleep with me and we'll come up with
more ways for you to use your talents together like you just did."
     There was a general rejoicing among the boys at that. When they
snuggled up next to their new found lover, one and all, Kevin sighed with
contentment.
     "Me mates have been noticing how happy I am," he told the boys. "And
the happier I am, the more people want to honor me. I have to say, after a
few years of this bed with you, I could be elected the next Pope!"
     Well, he never made it to Pope, but he did get a foreman's job and new
`family' did much better from that time on, both in Ireland and here in the
good old U.S.A.
     And now, now that I've told you your bedtime story, come crawl in bed
with me and we'll keep our good Irish family traditions alive, for that's
what the holiday is really all about.

				  THE END
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