ShamrockDelight Read Online Free PDF

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