I yawned and tried to ease my cramped legs. It was a long drive from Dublin to the tiny hamlet in the south west of Ireland. The term 'hamlet' was a bit of an overstatement really, because it was more a collection of small farms, with a community hall which doubled as a church on Sundays. We had made this annual pilgrimage for as long as I could remember, to the birthplace of myself, my Ma and Aunt Siobhan. Normally we planned the trip for the summer, but this year being a leap year, Ma had arranged it so we could be there for the Week long St. Brigid's Day Festival, starting on the first of February, which was celebrated as the first day of spring in that part of the world.
The festival was always fun for the children as well as the adults, being held at a different farm each time, and this year was the turn of Grandma and Granddad. This was the first time I had attended the first day, because in all previous leap years I and all the other bleary eyed kids had been herded before dawn into the community hall, under the friendly but no nonsense supervision of Father O'Brien.
"Relax, Dermot." Aunt Siobhan cut into my thoughts as she glanced across from behind the wheel at my flexing legs. "We'll soon be there. It's your own fault for growing so tall."
I grinned ruefully and studied her profile. Like my Ma Sinead, she was what I liked to think of as a classic Irish colleen, with her finely drawn features and shock of flaming locks. Siobhan had been ten when I was born, and neither she nor Ma had ever spoken of my Da. In fact my entire origins were a mystery to me. The only thing I knew for sure was that I had come into the world when Ma was barely a teenager, and any questions I wanted to ask were actively discouraged by the two sisters and their parents. Having me didn't seem to have had any adverse effect on Ma though, because she had never lost her love of the region or any its people. In fact there were times I thought she would sooner cut off her right arm than miss her annual chance to catch up with everyone she had known since she was a baby.
I was raised more or less equally by Ma and my grandparents, until Ma was accepted into Dublin University to study commerce. She financed her studies by applying what she learned, going around car boot sales and selling what she bought over the internet. By this time Siobhan was into her teens, and began taking a keen older sisterly interest in my upbringing. This continued until she too gained a university place around the same time as Ma was graduating. Soon after graduation Ma found a job with a commercial bank, and rented a small three bedroom flat not far from the university. Her sister moved in with her, and soon afterwards I joined them.
Looking back at the time I was growing up, I couldn't recall Ma or her sister ever having any men friends, or if they did they never brought them home. Even now that strikes me as strange, because they are both exceptionally striking women, so it was unlikely that they were short of offers. Of course it is more than possible that they had liaisons when they were at university, or maybe they were simply discreet.
The change from country to city was a virtually seamless transition for me, because I was finishing my primary education, and after the summer holidays I started secondary school in the city. The only disconcerting thing for me at first, was the way Aunt Siobhan had a habit of going from her room to the bathroom and back in her underwear, but I soon got used to it, and never gave it a second thought. That was until I was in my late teens and I found a photo of her taken at a party in her first year at university. There was nothing deliberately indecent about the picture except that she was slumped on a couch obviously drunk. The photographer had taken advantage of a too good to resist opportunity, because her short skirt had ridden up to reveal her panties, and the faint outline of her slit was clearly visible. It wasn't anything I hadn't seen a thousand times around the house, and more clearly, but the fact that now I could take it out and study it as closely and as often as I pleased sent my blood surging. That was the moment I stopped thinking of her as a sisterly figure, and for the first time of many I sat on my bed, photo in one hand and cock in the other, jerking frantically until a thick blob of cum splattered directly on to her crotch.
When she first started work my Ma had kept on with her rounds of car boot sales at weekends, taking me and Siobhan with her to look for bargains, but as her career took off she started leaving it to Siobhan and me. My Aunt dropped out of her arts course at university to concentrate on the business, cleaning and photographing her purchases for Ma to post online. I looked forward to our weekend outings, because when there were just the two of us it was easy for me to fantasise that we were boyfriend and girlfriend.
Ma could be very assertive and single minded, so it was no great surprise that by the time she was thirty, she had worked her way up to being deputy chief accountant, on a salary that made what she had considered a good income from internet sales - before her sister took over and expanded it - seem like petty cash. Since we no longer needed to be close to the university, Ma gave up the lease on the flat and made a down payment on a house that was more befitting of her status as a bank executive. Her only involvement in the internet business now was posting online, keeping a meticulous record of how much each item was bought and sold for, and ensuring sufficient was set aside for taxation purposes. I didn't see any real sense in worrying about taxes, after all what the taxman didn't know about he couldn't chase us for, but she was insistent, pointing out that her entire banking career depended on keeping above suspicion.
Her sister and I used the shed behind the house to clean and store the merchandise. By this time Siobhan had invested in a small van, so we could buy and transport items that wouldn't fit in the car. I was in my element working so closely with her, because it gave me frequent opportunities to admire the delightful roundness of her bottom, and sneak glances down her neckline at her sometimes braless breasts. Not that I could ever see much, but my imagination filled in the blanks.
There was one time though that I will never forget. It was after our first foraging trip since the Christmas and New Year break, and I was sitting on an upturned bucket sorting through a carton of stuff we had just bought, as she checked out what she thought could be an antique dressing table with a large mirror. She was wearing a pair of ragged jeans and a loose oversize tee shirt. I just happened to look up as she bent forward away from me to try to open one of the drawers, and her shirt sagged giving me two memorable views, one up under the tee shirt from where I was sitting, and one down the front reflected in the mirror. This was one of her braless days and her creamy pink tipped boobs wobbled gently with each movement of her torso. She stayed like that for several seconds, and when she straightened up I had the biggest hard on I could ever remember having. That night and every night for the next couple of weeks I lay in bed, stroking my dick as I relived that wonderful moment, and in my imagination I eased down her jeans and panties, thrusting deep into her slit as I reached up under her shirt to fondle those superb tits.
A couple of days before the end of January we piled into Ma's company supplied Toyota Corolla, and headed south west. We had left early to beat the traffic, and after a couple of stops to rest and switch drivers we arrived about an hour after lunch. Grandma and Granddad gave us the usual warm welcome, and despite our protestations that we had not long eaten, Grandma sat us down at the kitchen table with plates that seemed to be piled two feet high with sandwiches. After we ate our fill, we sat around catching up on what had happened since our last visit.
I made several attempts to raise the subject of the upcoming festival, but Grandma merely shook her head, finally declaring, "Have patience Dermot lad. We will see what we will see." Her tone made it clear that there was no point in further pursuing the matter, so reluctantly I let it drop. The rest of the day until bedtime was filled with idle chatter, and just simply getting to know each other again.
The Saturday morning dawned bright and cool, and before long people began arriving from around the district to set up for the start of the festival. Along with the men I was put to work clearing out the clutter from the main shed. As we worked I tried to pump some of the others about what was to happen, but all I could glean was that the festival would begin at dawn on Sunday, with a ceremony as old as time. With so many willing hands work went quickly, and when we were finally done I was surprised how much room there was. Before I could give it too much thought we broke for lunch. Seated around the large makeshift table, I began my usual game of trying to guess which of the men was my natural father, despite the fact that I had learned over the years that I was setting myself a futile task. There were at least four other men working alongside me, plus women and girls, who like myself and my grandparents and their daughters, all had varying shades of the red hair which was so prevalent in the area.
