The Leprechaun's Charms

As Erin's lips slid down over my length I gasped and lay back on the couch. Relief suffused me: the only sound apart from her wet murmuring and my groaning was the distant noise of traffic. There was no hint at all of that hideous fluting which had dogged me for so long.

The curse had finally been lifted!

A few drinks after work had led from one thing to another and I'd finally got Erin to come back to my apartment for a coffee.

I'd spent the entire evening in tormented horniness at all her teasing. After starting this new job, I'd been approached by several of my female colleagues, but fear of the curse made me rebuff them all. Since I didn't give off any gay vibes, word got around I was some sort of religious type who was saving himself for marriage, so of course the older women I worked with made it a competition to try and break me.

I'd finally succumbed to temptation and let Erin, my manager, 'seduce' me, if pushing her boobs in my face could really be called seduction. It was three weeks since I'd returned from Ireland and there'd been no sign of the curse during all that time, so I decided either the curse was localised to that country or I was finally been shown mercy after so many months of suffering.

As Erin really got to work on me I felt a sudden attack of paranoia and glanced about the room. No, the curse must really have been lifted. It always appeared well before anything like this happened.

"Oh god, you're so hard," Erin gasped. I pulled her off and she giggled with schoolgirlish delight as I turned her onto her tummy, lifted the hem of her skirt up, pulled her pants down and covered her curvy pale butt with hungry kisses. I let my hand slip up inside her blouse over her tummy and to her hanging boobs and teased her hardening nipples between my fingers.

She moaned and wriggled and I held onto her. I knew I should take things slow - it'd been months since I'd had any kind of sexual release - but when Erin began to push her butt up at me, I decided there was no point wasting any more time and mounted her.

I slid into her sticky heat, making her gasp and myself tremble at this long hungered-for sensation. I ran my hands along her ribs and down her smooth stomach as I started fucking her in earnest. I paced myself, but even holding back I was soon eliciting frenzied gasps from her that echoed my own.

"Oh god, more!" she moaned, tossing her long dark hair.

It was then that I heard the tin flute start up.

No. No, no no. No, not now!

The thin notes of the unseen instrument capered through the air and after a cheeky and arrogant trilling it reached a crescendo before falling away.

And then I saw it, sitting on the kitchen bench on the other side of the room and watching me with cruel humour in its dark, glittering eyes. It took the flute from its lips and grinned.

The curse.

So it hadn't been lifted. It had just been biding its time, waiting for me to be lulled into a false sense of security.

'The curse', as I called it, was about three and a half feet tall and dressed all in green: moss green trousers with a gold buckle, a little green velvet vest with glittering buttons worn over a light green blouse trimmed in white lace, and last of all a hat, a tall conical hat of the same moss green as the trousers with a superfluous buckle on it as well for good measure. Dark eyes and an upturned nose set in a pale, pixyish face with a long red beard completed the picture.

I'm sure you've seen this sort of thing before: on the sign of a plastic-paddy Irish pub or a St. Patrick's Day Party flier or on the front of a cereal box.

Yes, I called it 'the curse', but anyone who didn't know how evil it was would laugh and say it was 'just a leprechaun'.

With a wink, the leprechaun hopped onto its feet, brought the tin flute to its lips once more and began to play a rousing jig.

At the first sound of the flute my previously eager strokes had slowed, but now at the appearance of the creature and its spirited dancing I came to a complete standstill.

"What's the matter?" asked Erin, looking at me over her shoulder. She pushed her hips back against me and groaned lustily, but it was no use. I rapidly lost hardness as all desire drained from me at the sound of that diabolical flute and the spirited and ridiculous dancing of its diminutive owner.

Who doesn't know what happened next? Erin, her pride wounded by my inability to get hard again, grabbed her handbag and stormed out, muttering about gay men in denial. I lay there with a terminal case of soft cock as the leprechaun finished its little jig and took the tin flute from its lips. It swept the hat from its head and bowed with an arrogant flourish.

You had to give it to the creature, it was a consummate showman.

I stared at the thing balefully as I put my clothes back on, wincing at the frustration that wracked my body.

"Ah, now that t'was a pretty lass," said the leprechaun in its high, girlish voice. It sat down on the counter and kicked its legs back and forth, considering me with a malicious smile on its lips. "A pretty raven-haired beauty and no mistakin'."

"Shut up," I said.

"Aye, t'was a dreadful thing to leave such a pretty one unsatisfied and pantin' for more..."

I slumped back on the couch. "Just shut up."

"Now, now," said the leprechaun. "T'was no charm of mine that unmanned ye, but yer own subconscious guilt. Maybe next time ye'll be more careful before ye offend the Fair Folk."

The Fair Folk. It was talking about the fairy people of Ireland, the leprechaun's taller and more antagonistic cousins.

"I apologised to them," I muttered. "I had the tree replanted. What more do they want?"

The leprechaun shrugged its shoulders. "T' see ye appropriately punished for yer arrogance I suppose." It sighed. "T'were the height of foolishness to ignore the warnings of yer fellows."

The leprechaun, much as I hated to admit it, was speaking the truth. I'd done just that. After travelling to Ireland to renovate the old farmstead my aunt had left me in her will, I decided to build a garage on the property to increase its rentability. An old, half-dead birch tree sat beside the house and I decided it had to go. But none of the builders and landscapers would do the job for me, claiming that it was a fairy tree and muttering about the dire curse that awaited any who messed with the 'Fair Folk'.

Like an arrogant asshole I'd ignored all their warnings, thinking they were just having fun with the clueless foreigner. I cut the tree down myself and soon after the dire curse that everyone had warned me about fell upon me.

At first I thought it was a little person who had been put up to the job by the annoyed locals, but I quickly discovered that wasn't the case. No-one except for me could see the leprechaun or hear its voice or the sound of its flute. I decided then I was either going crazy or someone was slipping hallucinogens into my drinks down the pub, but when my blood tests came back clear I quickly had to admit the leprechaun was real. After a while its presence stopped being strange and I even began to find its comical appearance and spirited capering somewhat funny, but I soon learned to hate it. For the leprechaun made it a point to appear every time I came close to having sex with someone. At first my laughter at its appearance would spoil the moment - what woman wants to hear a guy start chuckling while they're standing there naked in front of them? But then I came to dread the sound of that flute and the little green creature playing it, and the merest hint of its appearance would strip all desire from me.

I tried hypnotism and exorcism, but to no avail. I even planted a new tree and begged the 'Fair Folk' for forgiveness, but the leprechaun, with its saucy grin and infernal jigging, continued to appear at the most infuriating moments.

And so I sold the house for much less than it was worth and fled back home. I'd hoped that leaving Ireland would leave that infernal creature behind as well, but now I knew the curse was going to follow me wherever I went.

I pushed the heels of my hands against my eyes and fought back a sob of despair. "How long do I have to suffer this punishment?"

The leprechaun shrugged. "King Oberon bade me come and vex you, 'tis all. He neglected to say fer how long."

I groaned and shoved my hands between my legs. My blue balls had begun aching fiercely.

The leprechaun's eyes flickered downwards and its wide grin reappeared. "Well, til next time, laddie. Have yerself a good evenin'!"

It swept the ludicrously large hat from its head and leaped inside, whereupon leprechaun and hat and all disappearing in a cloud of golden sparkles.

-------------

I drank half a bottle of Taliskers and slumped down into my bed either to sleep or die - I wasn't picky, really. Dead drunk I was finally free from my overpowering sexual frustration enough to sleep.

As I slept, I dreamed. I had that dream with Christina Hendricks in it - you know the one, where you're sitting at a desk with a glass of whiskey in your hand and a cigar in your mouth and she walks in in that dress then gets on her hands and knees and crawls under the desk and unzips your fly and starts blowing you? Yeah, that dream. As soon as her lips slid over my dick I bit through the cigar, spilled the whiskey all over the paperwork for the Whatever Account and started to cry at just how amazing it felt. I pushed the chair back, not wanting to miss a moment of watching her pleasure me as I so richly deserved. Her beautiful red hair was in the way, so I pushed it aside and saw that my dick was balls-deep in the leprechaun's mouth. It glanced up at me and winked, then got back to work, its long beard wagging as its head bobbed up and down on my dick.

My eyes flew open. That fucking leprechaun! Even in my imagination I couldn't escape it. I pulled my pants and underwear off and with a mixture of lust and rage began to beat my angry swollen erection. I was going to come this time or die trying, leprechaun be damned!

Pleasure poured through me like a hose of hot water had been attached to the top of my head. My stroking became feverish and I felt a long-prayed-for orgasm approaching.

Then that demonic tin flute started up. I pushed the sound out of my head and kept up my strokes. I'd be damned if I was going to let the leprechaun stop me this time!

In a shower of golden sparkles the leprechaun appeared at the foot of my bed, the flute at its lips, but its fluting died away when it glanced down and saw me furiously abusing myself. A look of panic flickered across its face and it started to play again. The tune was faster and more whimsical now, and the leprechaun began a particularly spirited jig, leaping into the air and clicking its little black buckled shoes together.

But there was no stopping me this time. If anything, after that bizarre dream, the leprechaun's antics merely made me even more excited. I continued to stroke myself, leering at the little creature as I did so. The leprechaun began to sweat and its dancing grew even more feverish.

I was close to the point of no return. Even the ludicrousness of furiously masturbating to a prancing leprechaun wasn't enough to stop my stratospheric ascent into paradise I was experiencing. I groaned like a dying man, my hand a furious blur.

The leprechaun's eyes went huge and its dancing became panicked and unrestrained. First its hat came flying off, revealing wavy red hair done up in a bun; then the buttons on its vest popped off like bullets and ricocheted across the room. Finally the white shirt behind the vest burst open and a cushion fell out, revealing a taut pale stomach and above it the lacy emerald-green cups of a very well-filled bra.

A bra?

I stared at the leprechaun's chest. The little creature was stacked! But was this some kind of joke? Was I dealing not only with a leprechaun, but a transsexual leprechaun at that? The creature gasped and slapped its hands over its expansive cleavage, but in doing so overbalanced, fell forward and stepped on its long red beard. With a loud snap and a cry of pain the beard tore clear off and fell to the bed, curling up like a dead weasel.

A fake beard, held on with elastic!

The leprechaun followed close behind, falling face-forward onto the bed and onto those huge leprechaun boobs.

Shit. Without a beard, the true girlishness of the leprechaun's face was revealed. With its little button nose sprinkled with freckles and its cherry-red lips opened in an O of shock, there was no mistaking it: the leprechaun was female, and a cute one at that!

I cried out in ecstasy and came so hard it felt like the back of my head blew out. A great arc of pent-up semen doused the leprechaun's boobs and face with sticky white goo, making the little creature yelp in horror.

As I kept on coming I started laughing. An insane jumble of relief and pleasure and amusement at the ridiculousness of the situation left me panting and groaning and aching from laughter in equal measures. My hand was slick with semen but I continued to pump away, as all the while the leprechaun knelt on the bed, muttering and wiping at the semen spattered on her face and breasts.

"Holy shit," I gasped, dragging my hand from my dick as the last crashing waves of pleasurable aftershock ebbed away. It was the hardest I'd come in my life. Dizzy and exhausted I surveyed the damage. The coverlet of the bed was irreversibly stained, and there was the little leprechaun at the base of it, still desperately trying to wipe the goo from her face.

I grabbed some tissues and wiped myself clean, then tossed the box to the little creature. She glared at me and pulled the busted halves of her blouse back together in a vain attempt to cover herself, but then she gave up on the idea, snatched a handful of tissues and began dabbing at her semen-stained bra.

"Augh!" she muttered. "Just look at the job ye've done to me favourite bra. There's jib all o'er it!"

Still naked below the waist, I crawled over and retrieved the leprechaun's fake beard. Dripping with semen, it was like a scene from a 70s gay porno and at the sight of the stupid thing I started laughing again. I tossed the beard aside and sat back on my haunches.

"So you're a girl leprechaun," I said.

The leprechaun looked up from her ineffectual cleaning and rolled her eyes. "Aye. Yer as sharp as a beach ball, aren't ye? What gave it away?"

"I didn't know there was such a thing as female leprechauns."

"Of course there is, ya great dope!" The leprechaun tossed the rolled up tissues away in disgust. "Where d'ye think babby leprechauns come from?"

"I guess you've got me there," I said. I watched her go searching for her buttons and as she crawled to the edge of the bed and looked underneath it, I got a nice eyeful of her plump round butt in her ridiculous green trousers. How did I ever think she was male with those curvy hips and that bubble-butt?

"Now where've those accursed things gone?"

Her butt wiggled back and forth as she searched and I soon felt the stirring of new lust between my legs. I started jerking my cock back to hardness while I watched her. It was a pretty rude thing to do, I guess, but the way I saw it, this she-leprechaun still owed me big for all the cockblocking she'd put me through over the past months.

"Ah! Found one!" She turned to me, the little brass button in her hand in triumph, but her face fell as soon as she saw what I was doing.

Her eyes narrowed. "What d'ye think yer doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I said, annoyed. "Even after coming like that I'm still worked up and I'll be damned if I'm going to miss the opportunity to come again after you've cursed me with blueballs for so long."

My dick was quickly getting diamond hard again and the leprechaun stared at it. I guess to a little creature like her even a slightly-above-average human dick seemed pretty impressive. She lifted her eyes to mine and glared at me, but the disgust on her face quickly melted away to be replaced with a strangely apologetic look.

"Aye. 'Tis true, the curse you've had t' bear has been a heavy one." She glanced about the room, then turned back to me and whispered, "But ye should know I bear no animus towards ye personal, like. It's been on King Oberon's orders."

"Just following orders, huh?" I muttered, then grimaced as a jolt of pleasure speared up along my spine.

The leprechaun sighed. "Aye, 'tis an empty excuse, ain't it?" She sat back and fiddled with fitting the button back onto her vest but quickly gave up. She glanced up at me again. "Tis usually a man's job bein' a curse, but we've been a mite understaffed of late."

"That so?" Incredibly, I was getting even harder, and all this despite the fact I was talking to a leprechaun about human resource issues in the fairy kingdom. "Well, I guess they'll replace you with someone else now the jig is up."

The jig. Huh. Even my lame ass pun couldn't distract me from my rising excitement.

"Might well be," said the leprechaun. "But the Emerald Isle 'tis many a league away and the Court of the King moves slow at best." She looked back down between my legs. My erection was comically huge now, stretching arrogantly up into the air. A smirk settled upon the leprechaun's face. "Ah, but I must say ye have a fine, solid shillelagh! 'Tis a sad shame t'see it so forlorn."

The leprechaun's hungry eyes gave me a sudden attack of shyness and I covered myself with the green cushion she'd had stuffed up the front of her shirt. "What are you talking about?"

The leprechaun just grinned at me, stripped off her torn blouse and let out her hair. Her hair, which she'd so artfully hidden in her big green leprechaun hat, was a fiery waterfall of curly red-gold locks. Beautiful, and all the more startling hanging against the paleness of her now-bare skin.

She sat back on her haunches, reached behind her back to undo her bra and slipped it off, letting her huge boobs with their big pink areolas fall free. She grinned at my shocked expression and ran her fingers across the pale skin of her neck and down to the swellings of her breasts. The scattering of freckles there contrasted with her creamy white skin and made her complexion all the more charming.

Then the leprechaun got on all fours, her big breasts hanging free, and crawled up the bed to me. "Aye," she said. "Ya spoke the truth when ye said I've been right cruel to ye. Let me make it up to ye."

I frowned. "Is this some kind of trick?"

"No trick," she said. "It's been hard for me too, y'know, havin' ta watch over ye all day and night long, separated from my kind. It's been an age and a half since I've enjoyed the touch of a man and I'm right gummin' for it." She cupped her boobs and leered at me. "I saw ye staring at my boobs. D'ye find them pleasing?"

I nodded like a moron.

She chuckled knowingly, then brought her fingers to her large pink nipples and began to flick at them. "Well, now ye know my secret, I suppose there's no harm in us havin' a flah."

The leprechaun leaned forward, pulled the cushion from my crotch and took hold of my erection with both hands. The sight of the lewd little creature on all fours, so short and yet so curvaceous in the hips and bust, with my dick in her tiny hands made my head spin. She glanced up at me, a cheeky smile on her cherry-red lips, and with a saucy wink she dove her mouth down on my dick.

"Shit," I gasped. The sensation was incredible, like delving deep into molten honey, and I thought I might come right there and then. But the leprechaun drew her lips slowly back up along the length, mindful of my overexcitement, until the slick head popped out from between her lips.

"Delicious," she murmured. "But don't be comin' too quickly, now. I'll soon be needin' that stalk o' yers deep inside me."