Angie Ch. 06

The Ulleann Pipes are real and the music that comes from these simple reeds and covered or uncovered finger-holes is haunting. Some of the pieces still claw at my soul. Here are YouTube titles, for those that want to hear such music for yourselves:

Davy Spillane - Caoineadh Cu Chulainn Uilleann Pipes.flv

I am asleep (Air) & The Clumsy Lover (Reel) Uilleann pipes Chris McMullan"The Gael" Uilleann Pipes Caleb Cox

Uilleann pipes - Chris McMullan - Sliabh Na Mban & The Bunch of Keys

Braveheart Theme by Eric Rigler

Uilleann Bagpipers (Gay McKeon, Emmett Gill, Amy Campbell) | LIVE at The Kennedy Center

Must see!! Best Off Uilleann-Pipes - Celtic Duelling

Titanic - Hymn to the sea Uilleann Pipes remember [Andzull]

"Pipes Solo - Lark in the Morning", Cillian Vallely & Alan Murray

Davy Spillane - Boolavogue (Buaile Mhaodhog)

Port na bPúcaí - Slow air on Fiddle and Uilleann Pipes

A Gift of a Thistle (Braveheart)

Outlawed Pipes

Uilleann piping

Uilleann Pipes and Bodhrán

Uilleann Pipes (Jigs) When sick is it tea you want & Paidin O'Raifeartaigh chris mcmullan

The boat referred to here is a 39 foot outboard powered Sharpie houseboat - MarkVDesigns.tripod.com

This is a sex story. There's a lot of it here. For those who still want wall-to-wall ultra-graphic sex on every page, I ask that you get a life. For those who are easily offended because I didn't write exactly what you wanted to read, I'll say the same thing.

Plus, for those of you who will say this work is just a 'stroke' story (yes I know who you are, Anonymous and others), about all I can reply is that you have never had a long-term, married relationship with a 'darksome wench'. What I have written here is mild compared to the reality.

ANGIE 6

By TheKeith

"Oh, Gawd, I'll never fuck again," I gasped out.

"Don't count on it, lover," my Angie replied, grinning, "you're gonna have to do me good for the next 7 months, as often as possible!"

She added, "because I'm probably pregnant!"

I looked like the shock I felt, but then slowly smiled and said, "I'll bet you felt the sperm joining up with your last live egg."

"Oh, yeah, that and having your thick, long cock jammed so far down into my womb, spurting so much man-juice into my hot, wanting body, there would be no possible chance of not getting knocked up."

I re-grinned up at my lovely, darksome wench and said, "Ya wanna work out a wed-lease between us, starting now?"

Her eyes went wide, then half closed as she purred, "Yes, damnit, YES!"

The next two months were interesting, as we hammered out a formal, legally-binding document leasing her quivering dark body, mind and spirit to my pale, melanin-deficient one.

About all I can say is that we worked out the legal clauses, stated in dry, legalese, but covering the most intimate acts that two human sex-fiends could engage in. More fun than a barrel of monkeys, as the old saying went.

We covered division of property, but having to finally conclude that my cock and balls and her tits and pussy could not be commodities.

We covered fidelity and accepting others as lovers, friends and fuck-buddies (thus, no 'cheating' could ever take place).

We covered personal spaces and degrees of penetration. Exposure of boobs, belly and pussy to the public gaze of others, taking a lot more care about the exposure of male organs, particularly erect.

We covered making photos, videos and posing for artists. We covered temporary 'vacations' from each other.

We even covered the certainty of our deaths, plus what to do with the 'meat,' once it was unoccupied by our life-forces (cremation and scattering in the coastwise ocean).

We covered the probable birth of our child (yes, Angie was preggers, with a girl waiting to emerge in 9 months), her raising, education, care, etc.

The main reason it took us almost 60 days to put this document together was that, as we proposed clause and amendment, we insisted that we try to carry out the provisions, at anchor in a secluded cove. Shouting, screaming, feeling, touching, sucking, licking, gasping, groaning plus deeply penetrating and being so penetrated. Plus cruising, anchoring, sailing, rowing and just sitting around, holding hands ... or cock, tits, vaginal lips, asses, thighs, toes, etc.

The care the document took about video recordings of our sexing was an outgrowth of our time spend playing the pipes while my dark Sex Goddess danced and posed. Some one(s) on the surrounding yachts must have broken out the HD cameras and the telephoto lenses, because the professionally-edited DVD of our aboard-boat sexing was made available to us, along with a contract to be witnessed and signed, as a high-quality porn recording.

After some thought—and giggling, as Angie and I previewed the disk—we OK'd the project. As of now, decades later, it still brings in a significant amount of dollars, each month.

Oh, yes and by the way, Angie still wakes me up every 5th morning with sexual exercises—not as athletic, as we age—but always ending with my drug-enhanced hard cock buried within my darksome wench as she gasps out, "Fuck your slut! Now!"

I composed an Ulleann Pipes piece to celebrate the birth of my daughter. An easy, nearly pain-free birth. A musical soaring flight of hope and wonder. My Angie birthed a dark-skinned, red-haired, blue-eyed infant who, within the first hour, opened her tiny eyes, looked up at me, smiled and, in a little, mewling voice, voiced an impossibility as she clearly said, "Hi, Scotty."

—THE END—