ShamrockDelight (4 page)

He stood and dug into his
pocket, swearing softly at the way that his jeans fought him. The tightness of
the material made it a chore to dig into his pockets when he was standing and
downright impossible when he was sitting. He started dialing Blarney’s number
and was surprised to find that it was already a contact in his phone. The
bastard had even added himself to his phone!

The phone burred a few times
and then clicked, and Michael heard, “’lo?” The voice on the other end
obviously belonged to someone who’d been asleep.

“Is this Blarney?” said
Michael, anger making his accent more pronounced.

“’oozis?” he said.

“This is Michael. Or Molly.
I’ve got your phone number. And a
shamrock
.”

“Oh, fuck.” There was the
sound of someone sitting up. “Are you okay?”

“No I’m not okay!” he
screamed into the phone. He had to admit that his new voice was good for
screaming. “Where are you?”

“No, um…where are you? I can
come get you, and-“

“Tell me now. I’ll take a
cab. My phone’s about to die.”

After another hesitation
Blarney reeled off an address. It was another hotel, a much nicer one, and
Michael clicked the phone off as soon as he got the information. He wasn’t armed
but he planned to kill the little shit as soon as he was within arm’s length.

Finding a taxi was easy
enough, and he had plenty of cash to buy passage. Michael sat with his arms
crossed over his massive chest, fuming. Everything just underlined the sources
of his irritation, from the way that his tits interfered with his arms to the
way that it felt as though he was sitting on a cushion thanks to his new ass.
He planned to take his frustrations out on Blarney once he was changed back and
had found out how on earth this had happened to him.

Michael thanked the cabbie
and tipped well; no reason to take his emotion out on the innocent. He frowned
and wished that he’d tipped a little less when the driver took the opportunity
to stare down Michael’s shirt, but he couldn’t blame the man. Michael marched
into the lobby and looked around for the elevators. He stopped when he heard
someone yell, “Molly! Oi!”

He turned toward the voice.
It belonged to a medium-height young man with sandy hair. He was utterly unremarkable
and Michael didn’t recall ever having seen him before. He gave the young man a
blank look until the young man pointed to himself and said, “Blarney. Don’t
y’remember me?”

Now Michael could see that
it was the same face that he’d seen in the pictures. Dressed in jeans and a
t-shirt, Blarney looked so average that he was in danger of blending into the
wall paper. Michael gave Blarney the iciest look he could manage and spat, “We
are going. To your room. Now.”

Blarney shrank away and
edged around Michael without comment, hitting the elevator button. Once they
were inside the elevator, he was careful to stay as far away from Michael as
possible. Every time he started to speak Michael just gave him the look again
and Blarney subsided.

He led Michael to a door and
unlocked it, then held it open while Michael pushed past without looking at
him.

Once the door was shut,
Michael whirled on him and said, “What did you do to me? You son of a bitch, do
you have
any
idea what kind of a morning I’ve had?”

Blarney held up his hands to
fend off the attack. Michael had so many questions that they jammed in his
throat and Blarney took the opportunity to jump in.

“Look, I’m sorry. I had no
idea that you’d change like this, or that you’d stay changed so long!”

“Change me back.” Michael
had plenty of questions but they could wait until he’d lost the tits.

Blarney got a pained look on
his face. “Well, see, that’s gonna be difficult. It’s going to take a little,
um, work, to get it right, and you’re not going to like it.”

“I don’t care. Whatever.
Change me back, right now.”

“That’s…listen, I was drunk
when I set this up, and I don’t want to-“

“Change me
back
.”
Michael’s fists opened and closed. Blarney directed a worried glance at them.

Blarney sighed. “I will. I’m
just saying, the way I set it up, there’s only one way for you to change back.”

“What.”

Blarney went to his dresser
and rummaged in the top drawer. Finally he pulled something out and presented
it to Michael. It was a shamrock, unwrapped and new-looking.

Michael thought seriously
about hooking Blarney’s eyes right out of his head. “Fuck you.”

Blarney shrugged helplessly.
“That’s the way it’s set up, girl. Soon’s you sleep with me, you’ll change
back. Well, you’ll take a
little
time, no one wants that kinda shock
when they wake up, but it’s the-“

“Shut up. Do you swear this
will work? Because if I do this and it doesn’t work, you’ll die slow.”

Blarney gave a weak laugh.
“Thought I was gonna die anyway?”

Michael made no response
beyond the glare. Blarney held up his hand. “I swear it’ll work.”

Michael kept glaring but he
very deliberately reached out and took the clover from Blarney’s hand. He
closed his eyes as the familiar shock ran up his arm, this time much stronger
than ever before. The un-wrapped ones apparently had a stronger effect.

When Molly opened her eyes
she took a moment to refocus on Blarney. She was still mad at him but the anger
was mixed with that swelling lust that she knew would overwhelm her in a moment
or two.

Knowing that she wouldn’t
need it later, Molly had no problem tearing her shirt off. She grabbed it at
the point where it dipped the lowest on her chest and tore it in half,
following up by ditching her bra along with it. Blarney stared wide-eyed at her
tits and wasn’t prepared for her attack. She jumped on him, growling as her
lips crushed against his, and she worried at his belt.

They ripped at each other,
baring her spectacular body and his mediocre one. She didn’t care; thanks to
the shamrock’s effects he was precisely what she wanted in a man. The lust and
the anger mixed until it was a howling maelstrom inside of her, and she wanted
nothing more than to fuck him to death.

Blarney tried to kiss her
body, but she neither needed nor wanted foreplay. As soon as his cock was free
she pushed him back onto the ground and straddled him. She screeched like an
angry panther when she finally wedged herself onto him, pushing him as deep as
she could get. Tenderness, respect, love: none of these words were even vaguely
related to the act that the two of them performed. She was there to fuck and
there was no slowing her down.

Molly ground her hips
against his, hating him and needing him at the same time, and he did his best
to keep up. Her long fingernails dug into his shoulders, drawing tiny dots of
blood. He protested but she screamed in his face, a roar of mingled rage and
need that shut him up. Molly’s cries got louder, the mingled emotions twisting
inside as they drove her on. Blarney was obviously there already but he was
scared to come for fear of angering her more. Finally the climax came, harder
and higher than any that she’d imagined before, and she threw back her head and
howled while her pussy clamped down on him. It was too much for him to take; he
pushed upward while crying out his own pleasure. Molly took it and took it,
feeling as though she was never going to stop, waves of pleasure and hate and
lust and anger all mixed together and wiping her out.

When Michael finally woke up
he was naked on the floor of quite a nice hotel room. He looked down at himself
and almost cried at the sight of his real, male body. He looked around and was
surprised to find that there was a naked woman lying on the floor next to him.
She wasn’t particularly impressive, though her thick hair was a rich auburn
that caught the eye. She blinked and looked around before looking down at
herself.

She sighed. “Dammit,” she
said. “Well, it was fun while it lasted.” She had a strong Irish accent.

“Are you…are you Blarney?”
said Michael, looking around for something to cover himself with.

She chuckled as she threw
one arm over her modest breasts and her other hand over her groin. “Stupid
fuckin’ thing t’call myself,” she said, “But what can y’do?”

“What happened?” said
Michael. The mad lust had drained from him, leaving him feeling weak and
confused.

“I’m Tessie, first of all.
An’ what happened was magic.”

“I guessed that. What are
you, a leprechaun?”

She snorted. “Nah, just
someone who was lucky enough t’inhereit a chip of th’real Blarney Stone. My
grandfather told me that if I kissed it at the stroke of midnight on th’start
of Saint Paddy’s Day, I’d be able t’talk anyone into anything.”

“Uh. Okay. What does that
have to do with me being Molly?”

Tessie coughed and looked
embarrassed. “I lost a bet, didn’t I. Thought sure you wouldn’t be any good at
darts in your condition. So we switched places.”

“What has that got to do
with being able to talk to people?”

Tessie grinned like a child
who’s been caught breaking a minor rule. “It’s amazin’ how convincing I could
be. I could even talk people into impossible things, make ‘em happen.”

“What was with the fifteen
hundred bucks?”

“The what?”

“I woke up with fifteen
hundred bucks in an envelope this morning, along with your name and number.”

She blinked. “I have no
idea. That would’ve come in handy today, too, damn. I sure hope y’didn’t do
anything you’d regret for that kind of money.”

Michael frowned. “One last
question. If we switched places, what was with the big tits and the thing with
the shamrocks?”

“Well, once we switched, you
weren’t as good at darts anymore, an’ you kept losin’.” Tessie gave him that
disarming grin again and said, “At least you had a good Saint Paddy’s Day, even
if you don’t remember much of it.”

Michael had to laugh. “Yeah,
well, next year, I’ll be at a library or something. For some reason, I’ve gone
right off drinking.”