Irish Eyes Colleen Thomas MissColy@aol.com
The big Jag pulled into an empty parking place at the top of the cliff. The Irish sea roiled under storm clouds beyond the guard rail. A woman emerged from the powerful car and walked hesitantly to the rail, tall and graceful in high heels. She was old now, nearing her fifty-first birthday, but still striking, body lush and curvy, the legs still well toned in their black stockings. Her white silk blouse did little to hide a bust that had been called the highest peaks in county Mayo when she was young. Her face was lined now, but the small wrinkles gave her an air of dignity and elegance, as did the silver crown of hair. Her green eyes were beautiful and vibrant, although today they had a far away quality.
She glanced back at the small park behind her. When she'd left Ireland, the park had been a wood, wild and untamed. Now there were several tourists in loud clothes with cameras strung to their necks. An elderly couple sat on a bench and a young woman with dark hair sat on a blanket on the ground. The young woman seemed to be staring at Katherine, but Katherine decided that the girl was probably staring at the sea.
What did you expect? Katherine asked herself. It was thirty years ago, a promise made by silly young lovers in the heat of passion. Marianne would probably be laughing if she knew you had traveled all the way here to keep that date. Marianne. The image of the small dark girl flashed before her eyes, Marianne dressed in the same dress she had worn that warm summer's eve. Romantic old fool, she thought and turned back to the sea.
Her thoughts came one after the other in a jumble, almost spoken aloud: She should go now. She'd wasted a great deal of her time on this trip and her company would go downhill fast if she didn't look after it. She'd been foolish to come, and she would skip the rest of her stay and fly back tonight; she should just be able to get to Shannon and catch the flight to Heathrow. She would never come back; this was her last time to touch her native soil. Too bad it ended on a sad note, but at least she had a chance to visit her mother's grave and say goodbye.
"Excuse me," a heavily accented voice said, interrupting her thoughts.
"Yes?" Katherine said, turning to find herself staring into Marianne's eyes. Deep green pools, with the distinctive circle of hazel coloring around the pupil. Only these eyes were young and belonged to the dark haired girl who'd been sitting on the blanket.
"Would you be Katherine O'Leary?"
"Barrington. It's Katherine Barrington now. But yes, I was Katherine O'leary once, long ago."
"My name's Heather. Heather Fitzhugh,"
The name meant nothing to Katherine. She had known a few Fitzhughs in her day, but none she had been close to, and certainly none knew she was coming to Ireland. She tried to think, but she could not tear her gaze away from those eyes.
She said: "I'm sorry, but I don't know you."
"No, but you knew my mother, Marianne McQuire," the girl said with a smile.
Katherine was shocked. But she could see it now. The resemblance was uncanny, save for the girl's light complexion.
"She asked me to give you this," the girl continued, handing Katherine a yellowed envelope.
Katherine's hands were shaking as she carefully tore it open. The paper inside had been lilac-colored once, but it too was beginning to show the discoloration of the envelope.
Dearest Katherine, I regret I'll be unable to keep our date. I've never forgotten our date, never forgotten you or those nights of passion on the cliff. I have cancer and the doctors give me only another month to live. I'm entrusting this letter to my youngest daughter. She's devoted and a good child, the only one of my five I can trust, and I hope she finds you on the cliff. I still love you...
Marianne
The letter was dated almost ten years ago. Katherine felt the tears well in her eyes. The world faded into the background as her sorrow rose. Thirty years had not diminished the feelings at all. Mixed with grief was elation that she had not been forgotten.
"Are you all right?" the girl said.
"Yes, child. Thank you," Katherine replied as she wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to compose herself.
The young woman spoke in a soft voice: "I've guarded that letter for over half my life, and at times the temptation to open it was almost more than I could bear. At other times I wanted to throw it into the sea. My mother spent three days writing it, and she passed away the day after it was done. I felt so cheated that that letter was more important to her than I was. I know you owe me nothing, but if you would let me read it, I'd be eternally grateful."
Katherine hesitated, then handed the letter to the girl. Although she wanted to conceal her affair with the girl's mother, she could not resist that soft pleading voice.
The girl read the letter and then looked at Katherine with an unreadable expression.
"You were lovers?"
Katherine nodded. "Yes."
"And you made a date over thirty years ago?"
"Yes."
"And you kept it, and my mother would have if she could have. I never knew."
"I'm sorry, child."
"Please, call me Heather. And don't be sorry, I appreciate this glimpse into my mother more than you can know. I was only nine when she passed away, and afterwards no one would tell me about her. Father remarried immediately and my stepmother was extremely jealous of memories of my mother. No one was allowed to say her name in my stepmother's presence."
"Your mother was a very special woman."
"Would you tell me about her?"
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The small pub in the nearby village was almost empty now. Katherine had spent almost the whole day telling Heather of her mother. It had been a nostalgic, sometimes bitter tale, but the girl seemed grateful for the story.
"I don't understand," the girl said. "If you loved each other so much, why did you leave Ireland?"
"Times were different then. She was to marry on her twentieth birthday and I was betrothed to a man who made his fortune in the new world. It isn't like today, neither of us were prepared to defy convention. Women who love each other have many more options now than we did back then."
"Not really."
"Yes really. I married well, raised a family, outlived my husband, own my own company, and have many female lovers. Thirty years ago, owning my own company would have been reason enough to ostracize me," Katherine said.
"Did you plan to make love to my mother today?"
The question left Katherine speechless for a moment. How does one answer such a question? The girl's closeness was disconcerting. She looked too much like her mother. Katherine suspected the girl was a lesbian too. The young woman had been giving off all the nonvocal signals, but still Katherine hesitated.
"It was a date made thirty years ago. I didn't know what to expect," Katherine said, trying to be as tactful as she could.
The girl seemed deflated by the answer, and Katherine suddenly realized the girl had been receiving such delicate, tactful, evasive answers all her life.
"But I did get a room at the inn," Katherine said, "in the hope we would go there."
"Can I see it? I'd like very much to see the room."
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The room was small, with the queen bed taking up most of it. A room in a quaint little seaside cottage. Katherine was not sure why the girl had asked to come here, or why she had brought her. She had never been able to refuse anything to the girl's mother, and she felt exactly like that with this girl.
The girl said: "This is where you planned to bring my mother? To have sex with her?"
"Yes."
"Will you take me instead?"
Katherine was stunned. She looked at the young woman, but the girl's face was serious and betrayed only a trace of apprehension. Katherine suddenly wanted her, wanted to make love to this girl as strongly as she had hungered after the girl's mother. But she hesitated.
"Please?" the girl said.
"You don't know what you're asking."
A flush came to the girl's face. "I'm not a novice. I know exactly what I'm asking. I'm asking you to make love to me, as you planned on making love to my mother. Please? I'm begging you."
"Why?"
"I'm not sure. You're the only person who has ever told me anything about her. I know she loved you. She would have been here if she could. Maybe I want to be her replacement so she can rest well. Maybe I just find you attractive. Maybe I hope to learn something of who she was, by who she loved."
Katherine said nothing. When the silence became unbearable she asked: "You said you were no novice. Have you been to bed with another woman before?"
The girl nodded. "Yes, I've had a few lovers. I never knew my mother... If only I had I could have talked to her."
Katherine enfolded the young woman in her arms and held her tightly. The girl hugged back with surprising strength, as if trying to capture some part of Katherine's essence. Heather was looking up at her now, those large eyes drawing her in like her mother's had. Katherine gently bent her head and placed her lips on Heather's.
It was a soft kiss, merely a pressing of their lips together. Katherine was not sure how far this would go, and she expected the young woman to back out at any moment. When she felt no hesitation at all, she pressed her tongue against the girl's soft yielding lips. Those lips parted easily and her tongue penetrated into the warm wet cavern of the girl's mouth. She tasted like cinnamon, sweet and delicate. As Katherine's tongue explored the girls mouth, the girl's tongue began to respond, gently caressing Katherine's. The kiss endured, timeless and breathless, and then finally it broke.
A heat was upon them both, and Heather seemed to be consumed with a fire that Katherine had never seen in her lovers before. The girl's fingers plucked at the buttons of Katherine's blouse, trembling so violently she seemed incapable of undoing them.
Katherine quickly helped, removing her blouse as the girl watched. The girl's whole body seemed to be trembling now, her eyes glued to Katherine's lacy purple bra. Katherine gently maneuvered the girl to the bed and sat her down on the edge of it. She caught up the hem of the girl's shirt and tugged it over her head, causing the girl's dark hair to spill back over her shoulders. Heather's bra was a simple white affair. Her breasts were small, almost dainty, and the white satin cups seemed molded to them.
Katherine turned and undid her skirt, dropped it to the floor and then stepped out of it. She wore lace-trimmed knickers, a suspender belt and stockings. The same type of underwear she'd worn with Marianne so long ago. She smiled when she noticed Heather's eyes drinking in the sight of her in her old fashioned underwear. Heather's eyes were glued to her, following her every movement. The girl may have had lovers before, but Katherine realized that if the girl was telling the truth, then her lovers had been the aggressors. Unlike her mother, she seemed very shy.
Katherine had had many lovers, and in her time she had been quite the butch. As she had grown older and more sure of herself, she had realized she was neither fully butch nor femme. She enjoyed dressing and acting like a lady and she found women who did so attractive. She also found butches exciting. She had long ago dropped the labels and simply enjoyed whatever she was in the mood for at the time. This girl was so like Marianne in beauty, but so unlike her in temperament. She felt a maternal feeling for the girl, but an undeniable hunger as well. It had been over a year since she had taken a younger lover. She was reaching the point where she enjoyed the slower, more relaxed approach of older women.
Katherine unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor too. Her bountiful breasts spilled out. They were no longer able to support themselves, but were still an impressive pair. She stood before Heather and watched as the girl tentatively reached out to stroke one of the breasts. The contact felt as soft as a feather, and sent a thrill directly to Katherine's aching sex.
Katherine controlled her lust and let the girl gently stroke and explore, not rushing her. Eventually the girl leaned forward and took Katherine's left nipple in her warm mouth. From simply holding it there, she rapidly progressed to suckling like a child, pulling hungrily at the hardened nipple. Katherine loved having her nipples sucked and resisted the temptation to do anything. She merely let the girl do what the girl seemed inclined to do, and before long Katherine felt the beginnings of an orgasm building. She gently removed her breast from the girl's mouth and smiled.
"Lets get you naked," Katherine whispered as her hands slid down Heather's shoulders and unhooked her bra. The small breasts literally bounced when the bra came off. Delicate pink nipples were revealed in the evening light. Heather seemed to need no more encouragement. The girl unbuttoned her jeans, and Katherine caught the legs and tugged them off. The girl's legs were well shaped and long for her size. After that, they both removed the cotton panties, revealing Heather's sex.
Katherine dropped to her knees and placed her hands on heather's thighs. "Lie back," Katherine commanded.
Heather complied, lying back as Katherine examined her sex up close. The lips were thin and a deep red, gaping slightly to show the bright pink inner folds. A single drop of the girl's natural lubricant decorated the small opening. Katherine kissed the girl's inner thigh and felt a shiver run through her body. She toyed with the dark pubic triangle with her fingers as her tongue glided to the sensitive crease where thigh joined torso. Heather moaned softly and Katherine moved closer to her center.
Then Katherine stopped. Reluctantly, she abandoned the girl's pussy and stood back up. There was plenty of time, and she wanted to take it slowly with this girl. She was not too concerned with her own pleasure right now, she had long ago passed the stage of needing it so badly she couldn't think of anything else. Sex to her was a diversion to be savored, each thrill to be enjoyed for all it was worth. She still became overheated, still went crazy sometimes, but tonight her prime concern was to make this young woman feel wonderful from head to toe.
She gently lowered the French knickers and stepped out of them, aware of Heather's hungry eyes on her every movement. Katherine saw the smoldering lust in the girl's eyes as she stared at her fleshy sex. Katherine's pubic hair was still reddish, although it too was slowly turning silvery white. Her lips were thick and red and she knew the girl could see them peeking out from the cleft between her legs. Knowing the girl was staring sent shivers through Katherine's body.
Katherine returned to the bed and lay down next to the girl. They kissed again, Katherine holding Heather's face in her hands as their tongues danced in the girl's mouth. Heather seemed unsure of what to do with her own hands, and her hands fluttered here and there, never resting. Katherine broke the kiss and rolled onto her back.
"Go ahead," she said quietly.
"Go ahead and what?" heather asked, her voice tremulous and hesitant.
"Explore dear, do what you wish."
The girl reached out to tentatively caress Katherine's breasts again. At first the caresses were soft and restrained, but soon they grew bolder. Heather's hands were like silk, and Katherine sighed in pleasure as the girl began to knead her breasts. Soon Heather's hand trailed down Katherine's belly to stop at the very top of her mound.
"Yes," Katherine hissed, drawing out the sibilant sound at the end of the word as the girl's fingers moved lower. Heather's fingers became bolder and began to explore Katherine's sex. In no time, Katherine found herself bucking against the small hands. She had not intended to orgasm, but the young woman seemed to want her too, and she was unable to resist.
The girl's fingers found Katherine's clitoris and she began to rub it in short circular motions. Katherine wondered again about the girl's experience as she came. Delicious tremors ran through her body, originating in her sex and rippling outward like water in a pond when a stone is tossed into it. She came down slowly, the girl's fingers still gently caressing her.
Katherine pulled the girl's body onto hers in reverse, the girl's legs straddling her head in a classic sixty-nine position. Katherine applied her tongue to the girl's inner thigh, working upwards. Heather's sighs and whimper's told her the girl was enjoying it. Katherine nearly lost her mind when she felt Heather gently kiss the top of her mound. Heather's mother had been voracious, licking and sucking with wild abandon. The daughter seemed to be a gentle and reserved soul, but that only made it sweeter to Katherine.
She traced her tongue along the small lips of Heather's sex, taking her time, teasing the girl until her bottom was humping up and down. Only when she could see the thick juices covering the young woman's delicate flower did she push her tongue between the satiny lips. The taste was wonderful, sweet as fresh honey.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Katherine pried the girl's lips apart and dove into the pussy. Using long slow strokes of her tongue, she caressed the inner folds, flattening her tongue when near the entrance to the girl's vagina. Heather seemed to be taking her cues from Katherine, and it felt strange to the older woman to feel each of her tongue's actions mimicked on her own sex. Almost like pleasuring myself, she thought.
Heather bucked against Katherine now, obviously in the grip of strong passion as Katherine's questing tongue found the entrance and probed it. The opening was hot, slick, and incredibly tight, flavored with Heather's nectar. The younger woman's tongue fell behind, losing contact with Katherine's sex again and again as moans and sighs escaped from her lips.
Katherine reluctantly abandoned this area to move downwards to the now visible bud of Heather's clitoris. She used the tip of her tongue, sawing it from side to side between her lips to give Heather's clitoris velvety soft caresses. She gently forced a finger into the girl's tight vagina, feeling the silky soft passage and thrilling to the inner muscles as they gripped the her finger. She took the little pebble between her lips then and sucked hard while still lashing it with her tongue. Heather groaned and came, her orgasm rocking her small frame, her mouth ceasing its work on Katherine's sex.
Katherine now began an assault on the girl's senses. She used her tongue like a tiny cock to fuck into and out of the tunnel. She used it like a rapier, just the tip, to feather the girl's erect clitoris, and she used it like a rag to soak up the copious juices now issuing from the girl. Like a virtuoso violinist, pulling a sonata from a fine violin, Katherine wrung orgasm after orgasm from the girl's body. Eventually, Heather screamed out in the throes of an intense climax, and Katherine's face was quickly coated with Heather's sticky cream.
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Darkness, the cool darkness of evening. A fresh breeze of the sea brought with it the smells of the ocean. Heather lay in Katherine's arms, gently nursing. She had been like this for over an hour. Shaking occasionally as an aftershock tore through her. Finally, the girl released Katherine's aching nipple.
"Thank you," Heather said.
"It was my pleasure. Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"And I feel closer to my mother. I know now what kind of woman she gave her heart to."
"I'll miss her," Katherine said. "Once we talked of running away to America together."
"I've never been to America."
"It's a strange and wonderful place, but not as beautiful as Ireland."
Heather raised her head and looked deeply into Katherine's eyes. The older woman felt her will slip away. Like her mother's eyes, heather's eyes were like an opiate to Katherine, draining away her will to do anything but please their owner.
"Will you show America to me?"
Katherine smiled. "Whenever your heart desires."
Heather looked down on her then, those green eyes sparkling as she took the nipple back into her mouth and returned to nursing.
The End