European Summer Vacation With Mom free porn video

"C'mere, are you lost?" said a female voice.

I looked up from the travel guide on my tablet and smiled sheepishly at a woman about my age. "No. Just overwhelmed. I've been looking forward to vacationing in Europe for months and now that I'm here, I'm trying to decide what to see next."

"Well first off, welcome to Cork," she said as she held out her hand for me to shake. As we shook, she continued with, "It's a wonderful city and I'm sure you'll fancy it. Are you a Yank?"

Was it that obvious I was an American? I guessed it was as I was wearing jeans and a Boston College T-shirt in Cork's English Market with a large backpack on my back.

"Yeah, from Boston. I graduated yesterday from Boston College, flew overnight to Dublin and then took the train down to Cork this morning."

She gave me a big smile. She was very pretty with long, dark blonde hair and pretty brown eyes. Tall and thin - I would guess 5' 10" or so. She looked a year or two older than me. She was dressed in a simple royal blue dress. It had a conservative length and cut, but nicely showed off her figure and made her hair look stunning.

I realized I was staring. "I decided to come here first to buy some food."

"I don't have to work till this evening. I could show you around for a while if you'd fancy."

Really? I've been in Cork less than an hour and a good-looking woman walks up to me and offers to show me around? "I'd like that very much."

This didn't seem right. No, this was flat out incredible. I was a good-looking guy, but not good-looking enough that pretty women walked up to me and offered to show me around. Was she someone who worked with a partner to rob American tourists?

"Okay," she said. "Let me finish buying my bits and pieces, then I'll take them back to my flat la and we'll be off." I followed her as she looked over some apples. "Why didn't you leave your backpack in a locker in the train station? The best way to see Cork is on foot and that's going to get heavy fast."

"I don't know. I guess I was too cheap to think of paying for a locker."

"Well, it's your feet and back. Oh, I'm Sinead Hayes."

"I'm Noel Vaupel." My first name is pronounced like "gnoll", the race of humanoid hyenas in some fantasy games.

"Noel is my father's name."

"Seriously?" She nodded her head. "I've never met another Noel."

I had hated my name as a k**. I had thought it was a girl's name. Many, many k**s in school had taunted me with the same opinion. At one point, I tried to get everyone to call me by my middle name "Liam". That had failed because my mother had refused to go along - "I named you Noel because I wanted to call you Noel."

"Noel is a good Cork name. Where's your family from?"

"All over Ireland."

"But Vaupel isn't Irish."

"It's Hessian. Hans Vaupel was a Hessian mercenary who decided to stay in America after the Revolutionary War. But I'm seven-eighths Irish."

During World War One, my great-grandfather James Vaupel had served in the First U. S. Division in France. There, he became best friends with Tip O'Sullivan of Boston and started corresponding with Tip's sister, Rosemary. After the war, he went to Boston and married her. Somehow, the Hessian looks have bred true as I had black hair and dark eyes, same as my father.

"What do you want to see in Cork?"

"I don't know. I've always wanted to see Ireland, but I don't have a list of sights to see. I want to kiss the Blarney Stone at some point. Mostly, I just want to see Ireland."

Sinead gave me a smile. She had a brilliant smile that melted me. As we talked, she picked out some fresh fruit, berries and vegetables. She paid for her food and we left the market.

Sinead had a definite Cork accent. It was mainly how she pronounced her vowels, particularly before an "r". I had grown up listening to a Cork accent so I knew eventually I'd hear a "th" become a "t" as in "think" pronounced "tink" and "three" pronounced "tree". Mother would be "mam", pronounced like the American "ma'am". The Cork accent had a sing-song quality that made it very pleasant and I enjoyed listening to her talk.

"What degree did you get?" asked Sinead.

"Computer Science."

"Same for me. From University College Cork last year."

"Are you a programmer?"

"Aye, but I haven't been able to get a job programming. I've been doing volunteer programming projects for non-profits."

"What language do you use?"

"C. I write iPad applications using Objective C. And you?"

"M."

"M? What's that?"

"It's a language that's ten letters more advanced than C." Sinead gave me a look that made it clear my joke had fallen flat. "It's a language for high-speed data processing. The company I'm going to work for writes software for hospitals."

"When do you start work?"

"September, the day after Labor Day."

"Are you going to tour Europe until then?"

"Yes."

"That sounds savage." I took "savage" to mean "great".

"Should be fun if my money doesn't run out." I had a mission to complete in Cork before touring the rest of Europe. "What applications did you develop?"

As we walked down the quaint streets of Cork, Sinead told me of the programming projects she had done to help non-profits help other people. From the way she talked, she clearly knew how to code and to provide solutions to her clients. I was impressed.

"Here la," said Sinead as we arrived at a three story apartment building. The buildings all abutted each other on this street and all looked like apartment buildings. She took out her key and unlocked the front door. "I'm on the second floor." Next to the door was a set of buttons and the one for number 203 had a card that read "S. Hayes".

I was still wary about how friendly Sinead had been with me. At the same time, she was clearly a very smart, competent woman. Would someone like that lure Americans someplace to get robbed? If something bad was going to happen, this was where it was going to happen.

I climbed the stairs to reach the second floor landing. Sinead started up the next set of stairs.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"To the second floor, silly goose. I told you my flat was on the second floor."

"This is the second floor."

"Na, na. This is the first floor. Come on."

Sinead continued up the stairs and I was forced to follow her. When she got to third floor, she walked down a hallway past a pair of doors and unlocked her door. No noticeable signal to her compatriots that a rich American was following her. As I entered the hallway, I braced myself to flee at the slightest sign of company. Sinead went into her apartment - 203 - and left the door open for me. I stuck my head in and saw no one else. It was a small apartment - a single room with a kitchen area on the far side. No one else was in the room and there were no doors for someone to hide behind. I felt foolish as I entered her apartment. Shouldn't she be worried about me jumping her once I got her alone?

Sinead said, "I'll put this away then we'll be off."

"How about I fix us some sandwiches for lunch?"

"Sandwiches sound good."

I sat my backpack down and went over to her kitchen area. Everything looked old and/or second hand. The area needed a good cleaning. Not up to the standards of what I was used to. I opened a box marked "Bread" and got out a loaf.

"Do you have a knife for slicing the bread?"

"Aye." Sinead handed me a massive bread knife that had seen many years of service.

I thought of an old joke, smiled and then sang:
I'm looking over
A four-loaf cleaver
That I overlooked before!

I glanced at Sinead and she looked dumbfounded.

"Haven't you heard that joke before?"

"Na, na."

"Well, it's a really bad joke and as I sang you the punch line, you wouldn't find it funny. You'll just have to read my mind to get the joke."

She shook her head with a slight smile on her face.

"It's easy to read someone's mind. Let me demonstrate." I set down the bread knife and put my right hand on her forehead. "Think of a country that starts with 'D'. Got it?" Sinead nodded her head. "Now take the last letter of that word and think of an a****l that starts with that letter. Thought of one?" Again, she nodded her head. "Now take the last letter of that word and think of a fruit that starts with that letter. Do you have that pictured in your mind?" One last time, she nodded her head.

I took my hand off her forehead, reached over to a fruit bowl and grabbed a fruit, which I held out in front of her. "You're thinking of an orange, aren't you?"

She smiled, gave me a you're-such-a-smart-ass look and then said slightly embarrassed, "Aye."

I smiled and picked back up the bread knife. "However, I'm not good at reading people's minds on how thick they want their bread. Would this thick do?"

"A little thinner."

As I cut her two slices, I asked, "What kind of sandwich do you want?"

She shrugged. "Peanut butter and jelly."

"Have you ever had a peanut butter and banana sandwich?"

"Na, na."

"I used to make them for my sisters all the time. Would you like to try one?"

"Aye." Sinead seemed quite content to watch me work in the kitchen. "How many sisters do you have?"

"Two. Erin and Riley." I set everything down, got out my tablet and pulled up pictures of them. "They're twelve and ten. I'm more like a junior parent to them than an older brother." I talked proudly as I showed Sinead my favorite pictures of them. When I was done, I went back to making the sandwiches. I took a banana out of the fruit bowl, peeled it, quickly sliced it and then arranged the slices on the peanut-buttered bread slices.

"It looks like you know what you're doing," said Sinead.

"I started cooking meals for my family when I was twelve. I enjoy cooking and I like to think I'm pretty good at it."

"Your mam must be proud of you."

"My mom is dead."

"Oh, na, na!"

"She died in an industrial accident at her work a year and a half ago."

"I'm so sorry!" Sinead stepped up to me and gave me a big hug.

I stood there, enjoying the hug, different feelings warring in my mind. I missed my mother still and I appreciated the consolation. At the same time, I was being hugged by a pretty woman who I was very attracted to. The contours of her bodying pressing against mine felt wonderful. I was maybe three inches taller than her and I could feel all of her best parts as they were pressed against me. Were all Irish girls this friendly? Or had she developed an attraction to me as quickly as I had developed an attraction to her?

I played it safe and kept my arms by my side. When she ended the hug, I said, "Thanks." I was touched by her concern, but at the same time it made me feel uncomfortable as I felt I was getting too attracted to a stranger. "Would you mind if I left my backpack here while we tour the town?"

"Na, na. We'll come back here when it's time for me to change for work."

"Good. I'll get out my daypack and I'll carry our lunches in that." I got my daypack out. I had planned on living mostly on sandwiches, fresh fruit and vegetables as I toured Europe, so I was prepared. I unzipped my lunch box and took out my sandwich carrier and took it over to the sandwiches.

"What's that?"

"It's a sandwich carrier I made out of a plastic milk jug. I made smaller ones for my sisters." Mine was big enough to hold two sandwiches. Sinead looked impressed, which made me feel flustered. "Would you mind if we took some of your fruit to eat? I'll buy the drinks while we're out."

"I'd fancy that."

I finished packing our lunches, zipped up my lunch box, and placed my lunch box and my tablet in my daypack. If someone robbed my backpack while we were gone, they were going to be disappointed - it only had clothes and my toiletries.

"Would you mind carrying my iPad?" Sinead asked as we headed out of her apartment.

"Not at all."

I thought iPads were seriously overpriced, but I knew not to start that fight. I tucked it into my daypack next to my Android tablet as she locked the door.

"Is there a country that starts with 'D' besides Denmark?" Sinead asked.

"I don't know. I didn't take any Geographic Information System courses."

Sinead stuck her tongue out at me.

* * * *

We hiked all over as Sinead showed me Cork. It was a wonderful city; very different from Boston. The buildings were so old, built to be used for hundreds of years. The churches were gorgeous. Cork didn't constantly tear down the old to make way for the new like Boston did. Every street corner seemed to have hundreds of stories that it longed to share with me.

I took lots of pictures on my tablet. I got Sinead in as many of the pictures as I could. She had firm, toned legs and arms, but not the bulky musculature of someone who worked out with weights. I guessed she was physically active, probably a lot of it outdoors. With her conservative dress, I couldn't tell much about the size of her tits, but they seemed good-sized.

Lots of other guys checked her out. I was glad I checked her out subtly as guys openly checking her out made her obviously uncomfortable. Those were the only uncomfortable moments in our time together as we seemed to just click. There was rarely a pause in our conversation. When we hiked past University College Cork, Sinead told me stories of her college days and I told her stories of mine.

We were taking a water break when Sinead asked me, "Don't you like beer? This is twice you've bought us water instead of beer."

"Oh, I like beer. However, I don't like paying for beer. If you want to buy me a beer, I'll happily drink it."

"I'm so used to guys offering to buy me a drink."

"Oh, I'm not a believer in the whole get-the-girl-tipsy thing. Women are too smart to fall for it. Instead, when I get them back to their apartments, I start cleaning their kitchens." Sinead smiled. "I clean their counters and scrub their sinks" - I acted out the cleaning motions - "and they go wild." Sinead laughed. "My experience is that a clean kitchen is an aphrodisiac for women." Sinead was laughing hard now. "Women are like 'Take me now, you big sink-scrubbing stud'." Sinead doubled over.

When she finally stopped laughing, Sinead said, "You're so funny."

"You're a lot of fun to be with. Come on, we don't have much longer until you have to go to work."

* * * *

Around 3:30, we stopped in front of a restaurant in a trendy area a block off the River Lee.

"This is where I work," said Sinead. "Stay here. I'm going to ask for the day off." Sinead disappeared inside. Several minutes later, she reappeared a little flush. "I got the day off."

"Great! You've been a great guide and I've really enjoyed seeing Cork with you. How about I buy you dinner as a thank you? Someplace nice that serves traditional Cork food?"

Sinead looked at me dubiously. I felt like I had said something wrong.

"Well, okay."

"Until then, let's keep walking."

* * * *

On our way to dinner - I had finally gotten Sinead to name a restaurant - Sinead asked me, "What was your mam's favorite Irish dish to make?"

"Spaghetti."

She snorted. "Seriously."

"Seriously, Mom hated to cook. She was all about getting food on the table with the minimum effort. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had skipped cooking the noodles and poured the spaghetti sauce over the raw pasta."

"I can sympathize. Is that why you took over cooking for the family?"

"Yes and no. It's a long story."

"I'd fancy hearing it."

"Well, my parents almost divorced when I was nine. They fought about a lot of things, but the two things they fought about the most were money and cooking. Dad is great with a grill but useless in the kitchen. Mom hated cooking and hated that it was somehow her responsibility to cook."

"It wasn't her responsibility to cook."

"She responded by wanting to order pizza and eat fast food, which led to more fights about money. Dad also complained about how all the fast food was making Mom fat. It was an awful, scary time."

"Understandably."

"Then they had a big reconciliation, things calmed down and they decided to have another k**. One day, my parents told me Mom was pregnant and that once the baby came along, I would have to do more around the house. When Erin arrived, I helped out in different ways but cooking was the thing I enjoyed the most. Mom was a good cook - she just hated doing it - so she knew how to teach me to cook. At first, I got the ingredients out for whatever recipe she was making. Then I measured them as well. Later, I started making simple things like pudding all by myself. As Mom did less of the cooking, she scheduled more complex, better-tasting meals. Dad criticized Mom's cooking all the time, but he never criticized mine. The more I cooked, the less fighting happened."

I looked over at Sinead. I had been wrapped up in my memories and hadn't been paying attention to her. Was this boring to her? She was staring raptly at me, so I continued.

"A year after Riley was born, Mom decided she was going to lose a lot of weight. She joined Weight Watchers, but she hated the weighing and the counting. One day, she came to me, showed me the Weight Watchers books and told me to figure out how to keep her on the diet. From then on, I did the menu planning. My parents gave me the grocery money every week and it was up to me to spend it wisely as whatever I didn't spend was mine. My mom lost weight, the fights over money stopped and they were much happier; kissing and holding hands a lot. Probably the two biggest reasons their marriage improved was that my dad got a big promotion and that my mom got a better job. Still, every time they got lovey-dovey, I felt proud of my contributions to strengthening their marriage."

Sinead seemed stunned by my story. Then she leaned forward and gave me a kiss on my cheek. "That's the best story I've ever heard."

I blushed. "That's how I learned to cook. And that's how I learned to be cheap. I'd always buy what was on sale and figure out how to make a meal out of it. My sisters learned to forget about name brand snacks as store brand were just as good. I saved my money so if there was an emergency expense, I could help out. And every time I did help out, my parents sang my praises."

"Here la," said Sinead as we arrived at the restaurant. I was starving, having worked up a big appetite walking all over Cork.

Dinner was awkward. I had had such a great day with Sinead that I was happy to spend a lot of money on her, but she seemed somewhat withdrawn throughout dinner. It was the first time all day when the conversation didn't flow easily.

When the check arrived, Sinead said, "I'm going to pay half."

"I'd said I'd pay for dinner. I want to thank you for being such a great guide."

"It's not how I want to be thanked. I'll pay half."

I thought about offering to pay more than half as she probably wouldn't have chosen this restaurant if I hadn't offered to pay, but I decided to let it go.

After we left the restaurant, I said, "Let's go back your place. I'll get my backpack then go to the youth hostel."

"Okay."

We walked quietly towards Sinead's apartment. I was slightly depressed - the day had been so great until dinner time. I felt like something wonderful was slipping away for reasons I didn't understand.

Sinead asked, "You aren't angry that I paid for my half, are you?"

"No. A little surprised, but not angry."

"Fellas ask me out to dinner all the time. It's gotten to the point where being asked out to dinner upsets me. It makes me feel like the fella is trying to buy my attention."

"I'm sorry. I had no idea. I was just trying to say thanks."

"I know, but it still bothered me. That's why I insisted I pay my half." We walked along quietly for a bit. "You know what would be a great way to thank me?"

"No clue."

"You could clean my kitchen."

I laughed. "I was joking when I said that."

"I know. I laughed at it, but what made it funny was how much I wanted my kitchen cleaned."

"I'll gladly clean your kitchen on one condition."

"What?"

"You let me use it tomorrow morning. I'll leave the youth hostel early enough to get to your place for breakfast."

"Tomorrow? What are you going to cook?"

The magic seemed to be coming back to our conversation. "I don't know. I'll figure it out while I'm cleaning your kitchen."

"I'm sure it will be better than the boring toast and jam I always have."

"I promise it will. And after breakfast, I'll go to Blarney Castle. Care to join me?"

"If you're willing to get back to Cork early enough for my work. I can't threaten to quit if they don't give me the day off two days in a row."

She had done what? Maybe she was attracted to me.

"That'd be fine. I think I'll enjoy seeing the castle more with a local guide."

We continued talking and now the conversation flowed easily. I had screwed up by asking her out to dinner, pushing her to pick an expensive restaurant and then forcing her to spend more of her money on dinner than she probably could afford. Talking with Sinead felt so easy, but there were obviously a lot of things I didn't know that could lead to problems.

I suddenly realized how little Sinead how told me about herself. She hadn't said anything about her family or where she had grown up. We had talked a lot about programming, classes and college life, but she had shared nothing about her life before college.

Near Sinead's apartment, I pointed out a handmade sign in a store window that said, "Parking for costumers only". We were soon almost crying from laughing so hard. As we turned a corner, I moved close to her and suddenly her hand was in mine. I didn't know if she had grabbed my hand or if our hands had come together by accident, but she didn't let go and I certainly didn't. Her hand felt warm and wonderful in mine. It was like our relationship had passed a turning point, but neither of us wanted to mention it. We held hands the rest of the way to her apartment.

In her apartment, I started cleaning her kitchen by taking everything out of her pantry. Everything that was expired went into the trash. "If you can't remember using something in the last year, throw it away." She didn't have a big pantry so it didn't take me long to empty it. I cleaned all the shelves. Things had been placed randomly in the pantry before, so I discussed with Sinead how to organize the pantry and then put the remaining items in their right spots.

Next, I cleaned out her refrigerator, again looking for expired items. It was small, not much bigger than what I had had in my dorm room. I cleaned all the shelves, put everything back and then cleaned the outside.

"For breakfast tomorrow, how does cinnamon French toast with minced berries sound?"

"Savage."

I cleaned the rest of the appliances, the counters and the sink, then swept the kitchen floor. While I cleaned, Sinead got out cleaning items for me and held the dust pan, but for the most part watched me work. I poured some hot water into a pot, added some white vinegar, and got on my hands and knees to scrub the kitchen floor. The kitchen area was small, so it didn't take long.

Once the floor was clean, I stood up and suddenly felt very tired. I staggered over to the couch and collapsed. "I'm beat. Maybe it was all the walking or maybe it's the jet lag, but I'm exhausted. Please call a taxi for me. I can't walk to the youth hostel."

"Stay here. You can sleep on the couch."

"That would be great. I hope you don't mind, but I need to go to sleep now."

"Na, na, that's fine. I'm going to stay up for a while, but I'll try to keep the light to a minimum. The bathroom's down the hall. Here's the key. Go there, do what you need to get ready for bed, and I'll tuck you in when you get back."

I dug out my toothbrush and went down the hall to a small, locked room with a toilet and a sink. I used the toilet, washed my hands, brushed my teeth and staggered back to Sinead's. It was like I had used up all my physical strength cleaning her kitchen and I could barely keep myself upright.

I stumbled towards the couch, but Sinead steered me towards a small bed against the wall.

"I don't feel like digging out my extra blanket and sheets just yet, so I'll tuck you in here for now and move you to the couch later."

I stripped down to my underwear and got into the bed. Sinead gave me a kiss on the forehead and soon I was fast asleep.

* * * *

I woke in the middle of the night. At first I was startled - I was in a room I didn't recognize in a sleep position I wasn't used to. I quickly remembered that I was sleeping at Sinead's. I had expected to wake up on the couch, but I was still in her bed. I was on my left side with my back against the wall and my left arm stretched out straight in front of me. Sinead was asleep in front of me, laying on her side and facing away from me. Her head was on a pillow partially laid on my arm. My right hand was on top of her side, a little above her waist. She was wearing a shirt of some sort, but the covers kept me from telling anything more. She had obviously chosen to sleep with me. Maybe she hadn't been able to rouse me to move me to the couch? Regardless, it felt good sleeping with her so close. I drifted back to sleep.

* * * *

When I awoke in the morning, Sinead and I were in the same positions. I laid there for a while, content to be this close to her.

It was crazy to think how we had gone in less than a day from strangers to sleeping together. Yesterday had been the best day of my life. I had never hit if off so well with a girl. Was she as attracted to me as I was to her? I decided to not push it, to let what happened happen. I would hate to ruin such a great relationship by making a move she wasn't ready for. As dinner last night had shown, I knew too little about Sinead and could easily do the wrong thing while trying to do the right thing.

Sinead woke, then quickly rotated onto her back and turned to face me. She smiled at me. God, she had such a dazzling smile. "Last night, you didn't give me a chance to thank you for cleaning the kitchen. Thanks so much. You did an incredible job, far more than what I was expecting."

When Sinead had rotated onto her back, my hand had come to rest on her stomach. As she thanked me, she slipped her fingers into mine. I took that as a very good sign.

"Good. You were a great guide yesterday and I wanted to express my appreciation."

I stared at Sinead's face, drinking in her beauty. She had gorgeous dark brown eyes with long dark lashes and thin, dark brown eyebrows. Her nose was large enough to have character, but not too big. Her face was oval-shaped for the most part, with a pointed chin that nicely framed her smile. Her beauty seemed to pull me forward.

I was starting to move my face towards hers when Sinead jerked on my hand to pull me close. She raised her lips towards mine then we were kissing. I kissed timidly at first, not wanting to rush anything. Sinead ran her left hand across my bare chest. I responded by running my hand across her stomach. I slipped my hand down and discovered she was wearing a long shirt of some sort that came down to her mid-thigh. I moved my hand down and softly stroked the bare skin of her lower thigh. Her skin felt so soft and smooth. Touching her made me rock hard.

As our hands explored, Sinead slipped her tongue into my mouth. My tongue wrestled with hers and then hers retreated so mine could follow into her mouth. I slide my hand up under her shirt and up towards her stomach. Sinead raised her bottom up so her shirt could ride up her body. Soon, I was running my hand over her trim, firm stomach while Sinead was running her fingers through my chest hairs, stopping occasionally to play with one of my nipples. Sometimes, she would quickly run her fingers through the hair on my head before returning it to my chest.

I broke the kiss and went back to resting my back against the wall. I slipped my hand out of her shirt and laced my fingers in hers again. I had no doubt where this was going, but I couldn't resist savoring the feeling of being on the brink.

"I don't have a girl back in Boston. After my mom died, I went into a mild depression that lasted until January. I had a girlfriend when my mom died who wanted to keep the relationship going, but I told her that I wanted to grieve with my family. When I finally came out of the depression, I started planning this trip. It didn't make sense to begin a relationship when I was about to leave the country for over three months."

Sinead shook her head. "Every other fella I've known would be groping me and pulling my panties off and you're telling me you don't have a girlfriend?" She gave me a good-humored smile, then narrowed her eyes. "Was that your way of asking if I have a fella?"

"Yeah, but I did think you would like to know I was unattached."

"What if told you I've a fella who'll be home this afternoon?"

She had said that in a teasing manner, so I decided to tease back. "I'd feel bad for a few seconds, then I'd fuck your brains out."

Sinead laughed. "Spoken like a true fella!" She turned serious. "When I graduated, I couldn't get a programming job. Most of my friends left Cork for places where they could find programming work like London and Germany. A friend of mine at Apple here in Cork promised me she'd get me a job there. So I took a couple of unsatisfying jobs and did volunteer programming. A few months after graduation, my friend got me an interview at Apple. It went very well and I was very excited. Then the hiring process dragged out for months. I went on a few dates during that time and they were flops. Three months ago, the Apple position came down to me and another person and they hired the other person. I was crushed. I decided to leave Cork as soon as I could afford to. So I haven't looked to start a relationship."

Sinead's face took on a determined look. "Let me set some ground rules - I'm in charge. We do as much as I want to do and no more. When I say stop, we stop. When I say we need to leave, we leave. Understood?"

"Understood." I'd agree with anything at this point.

"By the way, I looked up the four-loaf cleaver joke last night and it was really dumb." I chuckled. She raised up and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "Enough talking. I'm getting hungry and I'm looking forward to the cinnamon French toast with minced berries."

I laughed. She pulled on my hand again and I fell forward to kiss her. Her tongue slid into my mouth. I dropped my hand down and brought it up under her shirt. She arched her back so I could raise my hand up high enough up to cup her tit. Sinead moaned into my mouth. Her right hand cupped my balls. We kissed and groped for a while. Sinead slipped her hand into my underwear and wrapped her hand around my cock. It felt so damn good.

"I'm going to explode," I said.

"Can't make a mess, can we?"

With that, Sinead dived towards my crotch while pulling my underwear down so she could take my cock into her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down several times and then pulled up to swirl her tongue around my head.

"Jesus, that feels good."

Sinead slipped my cock out of her mouth, then dragged her mouth down one side of my cock and back up the other. As she returned to bobbing her head up and down, I threw the covers off of us the best I could do. Sinead slipped my underwear down my legs as she continued her ministrations.

"You're so good at that."

Sinead took my cock out of her mouth and said, "I enjoy knob gobblin'," before devouring it again.

I tried to strip Sinead naked, but I couldn't manage it while she vigorously gave me head. I contented myself with my rubbing my hand over her pantie-covered ass.

The wonderful sensations overwhelmed me. "I'm cumming!" I cried. Pleasure exploded over me. It had been so long since I had sweet release like this. I shot my load down her throat. She kept bobbing her head up and down as she sucked down each spurt of cum. It was the best blowjob I had ever had.

Once I stopped cumming, Sinead stood up and started taking off her night shirt. "I'm on birth control," she said as the night shirt cleared her head, exposing her beautiful tits to my view. "So you don't have to worry about leaving anything behind in Europe." Her tits were a nice size; no sag as they stood proudly on her chest. She stripped off her panties, revealing a full but neatly trimmed light brown bush. As soon as she laid down on the bed, my head was between her legs. Her pungent aroma told me she was already wet.

"I like a fella who knows how to make a wan happy," she purred. I remembered that "wan" meant "woman".

I was determined to do my best to make her happy. I ran my tongue up and down her slit to get a taste of her wetness. I liked the taste. I had always liked eating girls, getting them to squeal before fucking them. I made a wide circle around her clit to get the whole area excited. Then I explored her clit and the area around it with the tip of my tongue, listening to her breathing to try to figure out what she liked best. When her pants got regular and loud, I slipped my finger into her cunt. That brought a loud gasp. I pumped my finger in and out of her slowly while I made tight circles around her clit. As her juices coated my finger, I increased the speed. Her pants and gasps told me I was doing something right. It wasn't long until I felt her body bucking underneath me.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!"

I held on lightly as Sinead's orgasm rocked her body. Once she had collected herself, I moved to take her in the missionary position.

"Stop," said Sinead. "I'm in charge, remember. Lie down on your back."

I laid down on my back as I was told. Sinead climbed on top of me, grabbed my cock and guided it into her as she mounted me. Being in her mouth had been great, but it was nothing like being in her cunt. She was tight, slick and hot. The pleasure was so intense as she slid herself up and down my cock. I grabbed her ass with both hands to help her fuck me.

As we fucked, I couldn't help but admire her beauty. Her skin was smooth and flawless. Her tits looked perfect to me as they swayed gently in rhythm with her body. Her gorgeous face looked even more attractive now that it was filled with lust.

"You're so beautiful," I told Sinead.

She gave me an impish grin and said, "Shut up and fuck me good."

I continued slamming her the best I could, but I couldn't get much leverage on the bottom. "If a good fuck is what you want, let's try something different."

"What?"

The couch being right next to us gave me an idea. I had Sinead stand up then bend forward to rest her head on the couch. I came up behind her and slid my cock into her cunt. We were in a standing version of doggie-style. She was tall enough that it was comfortable fucking her like this. I grabbed her hips and pulled them towards me as I plunged my cock into her. I went back to fucking Sinead steadily.

"I've never fucked in this position before," said Sinead.

"Neither have I. You inspired me."

"I like it. And I'm glad I inspired you."

Her body was quite the inspiration. Her long, slim back was laid out before me and her long, beautiful hair was splayed out haphazardly around her shoulders. She felt so great as I increased the pace, fucking her faster and faster.

"Oh, Noel! Oh, God! I'm loving this!"

I loved it too. Standing up like this gave me a lot more freedom. I could feel my balls swinging back and forth as my hips rocked backwards and forward.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Each time I slammed into Sinead, she said, "Oh!" Each slam made a wet slapping sound. It was such a delight fucking this wonderful girl.

I fucked Sinead for a while with a steady rhythm. I was working hard at giving her a good fuck, panting and sweating. I knew I was close, so I picked up the pace and fucked her harder. The slapping sound got louder and my balls swung more and more.

"OH! OH! OOOOOHHHHHHH!" yelled Sinead as she came. Her scream of pleasure tipped me over and I felt my balls explode with another cum. My hips slowed as I pumped shot after shot into her. I finally collapsed forward, wrapping one arm around her as I held myself up with the other.

"That was a great way to start the morning," I told Sinead.

"Now for the cinnamon French toast with minced berries."

* * * *

We were waiting for the city bus to Blarney Castle when I asked Sinead, "How many miles is it to Blarney Castle?"

"Kilometers. It's about eight kilometers."

"Oh. Okay." I thought for a moment. "How many miles is eight kilometers?"

Sinead shook her head. "Catch up with the rest of the world."

* * * *

The grounds of Blarney Castle were quite large, but the castle wasn't. The Blarney Stone was set in a wall below the battlements of Blarney Castle. Though we had arrived early, a good-sized line had already formed to kiss the Blarney Stone. To kiss it, you have to climb to the top of the castle and then lean backwards while holding on to a couple of iron bars. Sinead told me that long ago to kiss the Blarney Stone, you had to be dangled by your ankles over the castle wall. Did I really want to kiss a rock that all of these people in front of me had slobbered on? Of course! Everyone back in Boston would give me such grief if I visited Ireland and didn't kiss the Blarney Stone.

Sinead and I chatted with other people in line as we waited. Sinead was wearing a simple white blouse which emphasized her lean body and ample tits, and a gray knee-length skirt which nicely showed off her small, firm ass. I was in a great mood. Sinead raved about the breakfast I had made her.

"So I'm your fella now?" I whispered into Sinead's ear. She had described me as "me fella" in the last conversation.

She blushed and then whispered back, "It sounds a lot better than the fella I met yesterday. I can't believe I met you only yesterday. Do you mind?"

"No, I'm glad," I said in a normal voice. "What fella wouldn't be?"

That got me a big smile and a kiss. "I really like you," said Sinead.

"And I really like you."

As we continued in line, Sinead asked me, "Have you sent a postcard to your sisters yet?"

"No. I hadn't thought about sending them a postcard."

"You should. You should send them one every day. You're off having a great adventure in Europe and they're stuck at home."

I shrugged noncommittally.

Eventually, we made the climb up the castle. Sinead helped me bend backwards to reach the stone. It seemed like every other rock I've ever kissed - not that I've kissed many rocks - and I didn't feel any different after kissing it.

"You were full of malarkey before," said Sinead once we were by ourselves. "You're going to be even worse now."

I bowed. "And all the Irish girls love malarkey. Or at least the only one I care about does."

* * * *

Sinead and I hiked along a trail through the castle grounds while holding hands, stopping regularly to take pictures. My legs were a little sore from all the walking yesterday and it felt good to stretch them out. A beautiful day to be in a beautiful place with a beautiful girl.

"What's with the you're-the-one-in-charge bit?" I asked.

"The fella is always in charge. It was fun to be charge in bed for once."

"But there's more to it than that."

Sinead shrugged. "Yesterday, I had planned to be your friendly tour guide for only a few hours. Then I wanted more." Sinead blushed a little. "But I knew nothing about you. If you had demanded that you be able to tie me up and have anal sex with me, I wanted no problems when I refused."

"I'm not into weird stuff. I just want to have fun, and I have a lot more fun if you're having fun too." We continued down the path, the dirt crunching under our feet. "Has somebody demanded that of you?"

"Na, na. He didn't demand it, but he did pressure me hard and then offered me a lot of money to do it. It was a scary, unpleasant time."

"I can see that."

"But the everyday things can be almost as bad. I'm very organized. I have a list in my head of all the things that need to be done. Do you know how long we have to walk around here before we have to catch the bus to get me to work on time?"

"No clue."

"I do. When we did the tour yesterday, I had a list of places to go in my head, how long each would take and a rough map of where everything was located. I got you through the sights most efficiently."

"I kind of noticed that. You did a great job. Thanks again."

"So when I tell a fella it's time to go and he shows me he's in charge by saying there's time for another pint, it makes me angry. I feel disrespected."

"I'm easy, Sinead. If you want to be in charge, you're in charge. If you want to sing me lullabies at night, sing away. The happier you are, the happier I am."

Sinead squeezed my hand. "That's good to hear. I need easy right now. I hate feeling out of control and I've felt that way since I graduated."

We walked in silence down the path to a fork. We were at a small triangle-shaped lake. We took the left fork which was longer but had more trees. I kept smiling all the time. The grounds were lovely and the flowers in bloom were pretty, but I knew I was so happy because I was holding hands with Sinead. Normally, I didn't like big silences but I was floating on a cloud and didn't feel like struggling to come up with something to talk about.

"I need a programming job," said Sinead. "I'm a programmer. Programmers get a lot more respect than waitresses. The last couple of fellas I've gone out with couldn't accept that I was a programmer and kept treating me as a waitress."

"Well, they were stupid. You haven't gotten paid yet for your programming, but that doesn't determine the quality of your code. What matters with programming is can you solve the problem in an efficient, robust manner and it sounds like you've done that twice." Sinead squeezed my hand. "How are we doing for time?"

"We're doing fine."

"Do we have time to stop at the gift shop for a postcard?"

"If we pick up the pace a bit," said Sinead. Then she shouted, "Race you!" as she took off running down the path.

* * * *

One thing I enjoyed about Sinead was that she never asked about "us" or "the future". I didn't know how long I would be in Cork - it depended on how my mission went. I could be ready to go somewhere else tomorrow evening. Most of the girls I had gone out with would be pestering me now about how much longer was I going to be with them and what would happen when I left. What was the point of worrying about questions that had no answers? My favorite Bible verse is the one about worry not about tomorrow, for today has enough troubles of its own. With Sinead, I just wanted to enjoy being with her now.

We went back to Sinead's apartment for her to change for work. Sinead gave me a list of places to visit while she was at work. I had intended to spend my second day in Cork working on my mission, but it was too late in the day to start. I stopped at the first few places on her list, but touring Cork wasn't nearly as fun without her. I gave it up, found a park where I could sit in an area with wifi and did stuff on my tablet. What I really did was think about Sinead.

I'd always thought "love at first sight" was a myth, a literary shortcut to get two characters in love without wasting time showing them actually falling in love. It wasn't love at first sight with Sinead, but it was close. I hadn't felt anything special about her when I first saw her and I wasn't in love, but I had fallen for her in record time. She made me happy like no other woman had ever had. She was everything I wanted in a woman and more. I was trying to keep my feelings for her in check as I knew I'd be leaving her and Cork soon. Once I was traveling, I'd hopefully find another girl, preferably a tourist like me. However, my mind kept coming back to how I could extend my relationship with Sinead. Maybe she could come visit Boston once I went home? I wouldn't have any vacation time to spend with her for a year. Could she come over for Christmas and New Years? She'd certainly want to spend Christmas with her family. Maybe she'd like to come take a week vacation for me once I had some? That would be fifteen months from now - both of us would probably be dating someone else by then.

I went back to the apartment in a sour mood and waited for Sinead. When she got home, she wasn't in the mood for lovemaking. "I'm never fit company when I finish work." I guessed she got a lot of unwanted attention at work, guys who'd leave her a big tip and then ask her out to dinner. Instead, we sat on her couch and did stuff on our tablets until we were ready for bed.

Once we were under the covers, Sinead sat up and sang softly:
Lullaby, lullaby,
Sweet little baby,
Don't you cry.

I had laughed after the first line, but I listened quietly to the rest of the lullaby. Sinead had a good singing voice. When she was done, she gave me a soft kiss on my forehead before snuggling into my shoulder.

"You're a silly goose," she said softly, "but you make me happy."

I felt a delicious glow as I fell asleep.

* * * *

The next morning, we made love. We finished with me sitting up on the couch while Sinead rode me while facing me. I loved watching her tits bounce as we fucked. It was a position I had seen many times in porn but neither of us had tried it before. We seemed to bring out the adventurous in each other.

"I'm going to my other job today," announced Sinead. She seemed embarrassed. "Twice a week, I'm a toilet attendant." She rushed on. "It's an easy job that pays decent and without it, I couldn't afford this flat."

"But you didn't grow up dreaming of being a toilet attendant?"

"Na, na. But you have to take life as it comes."

I was fine with being on my own today as it was time to work on my mission. All I knew about my mom's life before she came to the U.S. was her date of birth, her maiden name of Margaret Murphy, she was born in Ireland and that she had had a Cork accent. She had refused to discuss her life in Ireland. My mission was to find out about it.

In January, Dad had suggested I go to Cork and find out about my mom's Irish life. I was beginning to come out of my depression and the thought of having a mission helped pull me all the way out. My mom's death had been so meaningless. She had been a chemical technician at a small chemical company. Somebody had stored some chemicals incorrectly and the subsequent explosion had killed her. The coroner had said chemicals had sprayed all over her body and then burnt her to death. When Dad suggested the trip, he pointed out that Mom would have never tolerated me going to Cork to poke around. We both had felt that if I could find out her history, why she left and maybe meet her family; it would give some meaning to her death.

I hadn't mentioned my mission to Sinead because I believed Mom had left because of some scandal. I wanted to find out why she had left without stirring up the scandal again. It was probably stupid to keep my mission a secret, but I didn't see how keeping it a secret could hurt.

My mother had been nineteen when she arrived in Boston. Schooling in Ireland is similar to the Harry Potter books in that c***dren went to a primary school and then a secondary school - the equivalent of Hogwarts - when they turned thirteen. It's five to six years to finish secondary school as it is common to skip the fourth year. So Mom would have been a recent secondary school graduate or possibly one year out of school. Sinead had graduated from college one year before me even though she was two years (and two days) older than me because she hadn't skipped her fourth year.

Mom had met Dad three months after she arrived and I was conceived two months later. My parents married when Mom was seven months pregnant. As I was now 22, which meant Mom had finished primary school 23 or 24 years ago.

I had copies of three of Mom's engagement photos. She had been very attractive then with light brown hair and brown eyes. The pictures were only of her face as Mom and Dad hadn't wanted her pregnant belly in the pictures. Based upon my short time in Cork, she looked like she came from the Cork area with hair, face type, and body style similar to a lot of the people I've seen. Her Cork accent had almost disappeared before her death, but her accent when I was k** was like Sinead's.

My plan was simple - go to the secondary schools in the Cork area, look at their yearbooks from 23 to 25 years ago and look for pictures of Margaret Murphy which were similar to Mom's engagement photos. I would say I was looking for a friend's dad's picture. No one should notice that I was digging around into Mom's possibly scandalous past. Once I knew her school and the names of some her classmates, I would figure out what to do next.

Irish secondary schools were in session in May. I dug out a folder from my backpack which had Mom's photos, a list of Cork secondary schools and a map of where they were located. I found the closest one and figured out how to get to it. I then made my lunch, put everything I needed in my daypack and set off.

* * * *

I entered the secondary school and went into the school office.

"Hello, my name is Noel Vaupel," I said to the school administrator who greeted me, a woman who looked to be around sixty. "I'm an American visiting Cork. The father of a friend of mine is from Cork and he would have graduated from secondary school 23 or 24 years ago. I promised my friend that I'd try to get some pictures of his dad from his yearbook. Could I please see your yearbook from 24 years ago?"

"A yearbook?" she asked with a confused look on her face

"Yes, your yearbook. Do you have your yearbooks from back then?"

"What's a yearbook?"

We were off to a bad start. "It's a book published by the school which has a picture of every k** who attended that year. It has pictures of teams and clubs too. You have something like that, right?"

She gave me a look which made it clear she I thought I was spouting gibberish. "Na, na," she said very slowly. "We don't have anything like that."

"You don't have something you give the k**s as a memento of their year here?"

She continued to look at me with total incomprehension. "Na, na. We don't give them any mementos."

"Would other secondary schools have yearbooks?"

Another blank stare. She slowly shook her head before saying, "Na, na. Not that I'm aware."

"Well, thank you very much."

I went outside, not knowing what else to do. My plan had seemed so clever back in Boston. It had never crossed my mind that Irish secondary schools wouldn't have the equivalent of yearbooks.

Maybe other secondary schools did. I didn't have any other plan, so I decided to continue with my old one and hope for better luck at the next school.

At the next secondary school, I got the same look of total incomprehension. I went to a third secondary school and got the same response. I got the feeling that I would have had better luck if I had asked about what druidic rituals the students had done 25 years ago.

I went to a library and tried to think of alternative plan. Could I call up people named Murphy and ask them if they knew of a Margaret born 42 years ago who had moved to Boston when she was 19? How common of a last name was Murphy? I asked my dear friend Google and found out "Murphy is the most common and widespread name in Ireland, especially in County Cork."

Fuck!

I should have known all this before I came here. I should have asked people in Boston if my plan made any sense. But I had been so smart, so secretive.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

There was no point in worrying about it now. It was almost three and Sinead would be home a few minutes after five. I wanted to have a great dinner waiting for her. My favorite Weight Watchers recipe was for Steak Diane and I had made it numerous times for my parents to celebrate their birthdays and anniversaries. I was going to make it tonight for Sinead. I had to figure out a couple of sides. Perhaps a bottle of wine to go with it. Sinead didn't want me to take her to an expensive restaurant, but I could make her that quality of a meal. After dinner, I'd ask her for ideas on how to find Mom's past.

* * * *

"That was incredible," said Sinead after she finished the last bite of steak. "I don't think I've ever had a better meal."

I smiled, pushed my chair away from the table and leaned back into it. I felt satisfied - the meal had turned out as I had hoped and Sinead had raved about it the whole time we ate. "Well, I think you are incredible and wanted to make a meal that would make you happy."

"Happy?" Sinead pushed her chair back and stood up. "You don't make me just happy, you know." She walked around the oval-shaped dining table. "You make me crazy." She sat on the edge of the table in front of me. "Do you know who I thought about all day today?" She started doing something with the top of her dress.

"The Pope?"

Sinead snorted. "You. I have known you for three days now and I can't stop thinking about you." Whatever she had done had loosened the top of her dress and she pushed it down. "Let me show how happy you make your crazy woman." Sinead unhooked her bra and tossed it across the room. "Come suck your crazy woman's tits."

"You're in charge," I said as I stood up.

"That's right," Sinead said as she guide my mouth to her right tit. "And don't you ever forget it."

As I sucked on her right tit, I cupped her left. I loved the feel of her tits. Her tit perfectly filled my hand.

"Oh God, Noel. You get me so hot."

I took that as a challenge to get her hotter.

I released her tit and kissed her, ramming my tongue into her mouth. I put my arms around her to support her back as I slowly tilted her backwards. She fought me at first, then relaxed. I kept one arm around her back and used the other arm to clear the table behind her the best I could. Sinead kept pushing her dress top down until it was bunched up around her waist. I broke off the kiss and started nibbling on her neck while grinding my crotch into hers. She was lying back far enough that she could support herself on the table using her elbows. I kept one arm around her back to support her while using my other hand to steady her as I dry humped her crotch.

"This is so crazy," she said. "So fucking crazy."

I had no plan in mind. All I knew was that I wanted this sexy woman here and now.

"Stand up for a sec," Sinead told me.

I stood up while keeping my crotch pressed into hers. Sinead twisted while continuing to mostly lie on the table and grabbed the bottle of red wine. She poured a little wine over her right tit. "I've spilled, Noel. Would you lick that up please?"

The wine was running down her chest and heading towards the dress bunched around her waist. I intercepted it with my tongue and then slowly licked up her chest until I reached her tit, which I sucked into my mouth.

"I feel another spill coming on."

I released her nipple and pulled back to watch her pour some wine on her left tit. I watched it run down her chest until it got close to her dress, where once again I intercepted it and followed it with my tongue back to her tit.

"My dress is going to be such a mess. Let me take it off."

I backed away from the table. Sinead stood up, stripped off her dress and her panties. As she got back onto the table, I took my clothes off.

"I see another wine spill about to happen," said Sinead as she grabbed the wine bottle again. This time, she guided the bottle downward and poured a small amount of wine between her cunt lips. "Lap that up, won't you?"

I dived in like a man desperate for fluid. Sinead was sopping wet. The wine and her juices made for an interesting flavor combination. I licked and sucked, licked and sucked while removing glasses and dishes from the table the best I could. Sinead was fully stretched out on the table with her butt right at the edge of the table and her legs bent sharply at the knee. With my arms, I supported her legs the best I could.

After a couple of minutes, she grabbed my ears and pulled me up. "Fuck me. I need to be fucked right now."

I stood up, lined up my cock and plunged into her. She was so wet that I easily slid all the way in.

"Oh, God!" she moaned.

Sinead arched her back and reached above her head to grasp the edge of the table. She was the perfect combination of beauty and a****l lust. I grabbed her hips with both hands and slammed into her. The table squeaked beneath us. I pulled back and slammed, pulled back and slammed. I quickly fell into a rapid rhythm of fucking.

"Oh! Oh! My God, aye! Oh!"

I moved her legs into different positions as bending them sharply looked uncomfortable. I slipped my arms under her knees and spread her legs out wide. I let her feet hang down below the table top as I supported her legs with my arms. I eventually raised her legs straight up so that her feet were above my shoulders. The table squeaked, squeaked, squeaked as I continued to pound her hard.

"Oh God! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

This fuck was the wildest and most intense in my life. I hoped it was as awesome for Sinead as it was for me and that she would be cumming soon as I knew I wouldn't last much longer.

Thankfully, Sinead's moans rose in pitch. "Oh! OH! OH! OOOOOHHHHHHH!"

I felt her cunt tighten on my cock. At the same time, I felt my balls tingle and then I was cumming too. Squeak, squeak, squeak went the table in time with my spurts.

With my cock still buried in Sinead, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around her. I lifted her off the table and staggered the few feet to the couch. I flopped down on my back as slowly as I could with Sinead above me.

"That was craziest thing I've ever done," said Sinead.

"It was the most memorable meal I've ever had."

Sinead gave me a small punch on my chest. I continued to hold her in my arms. She felt so good next to me. She burrowed in a bit, putting her head on my shoulder.

"This last few days have been so crazy," said Sinead. "Noel...I want to ask you...Well, I should tell you something first. I didn't meet you by accident in the English Market."

"You didn't?"

"Na, na. Let me back up. When I didn't get the job at Apple, I decided to move to Boston as soon as I could save enough money. I know it's very expensive to live in Boston and I was worried about how I could afford to stay there. So I came up with the idea of trying to befriend Yanks from the Boston area. Take them round, be friendly with them. Then I'd ask if I could stay with them when I moved out to Boston."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Three days ago, a friend of mine called to tell me that this cute fella wearing a Boston College shirt was headed towards the English Market. She kept an eye on you until I could get to you. Normally I would never walk up to a fella and start talking to him, but you seemed like a golden opportunity."

"I am. 'Golden Opportunity' is my middle name."

Sinead chuckled. "You're so silly. Here's the thing." Sinead shifted so she could look me in the eye. "I don't wait to stay with you in Boston. I know this is really rushing things, but I want to live with you in Boston."

"Live with me?"

"Aye, as me fella. I probably should have waited to bring this up, but I kept thinking about it while you were fucking me. I want to be able to do crazy things with you every night."

"I'll have to talk to my roommate." I barely knew my roommate Doug. He was a friend of a friend of a friend who had a job near where I was going to work. We had gotten the apartment together in May, I had slept there a few nights between when classes ended and I left for Ireland. We hadn't discussed the possibility of girls moving in. He may want me to move out and find a replacement roommate. Which I would be happy to do if it meant I got to live with Sinead.

"Can you call him now?"

"No. I didn't bring my phone with me." Roaming charges would have made carrying my phone cost-prohibitive.

"You can use my phone."

"I don't know his number. Don't worry about it. We'll fly to Boston together, I'll introduce you to Doug and once he has met you, we'll bring up that you want to live with me. What we need to do now is get you a ticket for my flight."

"I've wanted to go to Boston all my life, and now I'm going to do it."

"Why have you wanted to go to Boston?"

"To find my mam." Sinead jumped off of me and sprinted over to her small desk. I admired her long legs, firm ass and strong back. "I'm adopted. My birth mam was a single mother. She never told anyone who my father was." Sinead took an unmarked binder off the top shelf of her desk and opened it on her desk. "When I was about a year old, she turned me over to my grandmam and flew off to Boston. No one has heard from her since. Her cousin Noel and his wife eventually adopted me and I call them Mam and Dad, but they aren't my parents." I stood up and walked towards the desk. Sinead pointed at a 8 1/2 by 11 picture in a clear sleeve that was the first page in the binder. "Here's a picture of my mam with me. Her name is Margaret Murphy."

I recognized the face instantly. I had a similar picture in a similar binder in my backpack. It was my mom.

And that meant Sinead was my half-sister.

"I have lots more pictures of her." She started flipping pages. "Do you think I look like her?" I didn't answer as I was in a state of shock. "I think I have a little of her looks, particularly her nose."

I had just fucked my half-sister.

Sinead kept flipping pages. Occasionally, she said where the picture was taken or who else was in the picture. I said nothing as I had no idea of what to say. My mother kept getting younger in the photos. I recognized a lot of the looks in the photos - here was Mom laughing her laugh, here was Mom upset that someone was taking her picture without her permission, here was Mom with her "smile for the camera" fake smile.

I had just agreed to have my half-sister live with me.

I stood dumbstruck as she went through all of the photos. "So I've always wanted to go to Boston to find her, to tell her that I forgive her, to tell her that I want to be her daughter and her to be my mam." She looked up from the pictures to me. "Finding her is the most important thing in the world to me." Sinead gave me a hard hug. "And I'm finally going to be able to thanks to you."

I didn't hug Sinead back as my mind was in a whirl. Then I had a new thought - Whoa! Whoa! You're jumping to conclusions!

My mom was a great mom and she never would have abandoned me or my sisters. If Sinead was her c***d, she would have brought her to Boston.

And wouldn't Dad had known if Mom had had a baby before? Seen s