Date: Sat, 6 Mar 2004 02:06:44 EST
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: The Fitzpatrick Family Featherbed

		     THE FITZPATRICK FAMILY FEATHERBED
			   by Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     So it's the story of the Fitzpatrick Family Featherbed you'd be
wanting, then? Sure and that's a story dear to me own heart, lad. Sit in me
lap and I'll be a'telling you the story, then.
     It was in the time of the Troubles when the Fitzpatrick Family
Featherbed became a part of the Fitzpatrick family. Those were hard times
for one and all and it was a lucky man who would have more than a couple of
shillings to rub between his fingers. For that reason, little things could
seem bigger to them than it would be to you and me, and so it was with the
bed.
     One of the Fitzpatrick men was a lord's servant, and it was he who
first got the bed. And what a bed! Six feet wide and eight feet long and
made of the finest oak you would ever dream of finding in a forest with a
maiden sleeping in it under a spell. He took it home to his wife and she
was the one what made the mattress, a feather mattress, plucking many a
fine fat goose of its feathers and adding them to the mattress until it was
as fine as any lord and lady ever had the sleeping of. When they passed on
to go a'knocking at the Pearly Gates and present their tickets inside as
they had them or not, the bed itself passed on into the keeping of his
eldest boy and so on through the years. It was a fine, grand inheritance to
be a'having, for the bed would make any hovel seem like a mansion and any
man sleeping in the king of the county.
     But you'll be a'wanting to hear of the rest of the story, and that is
of Kevin Fitzpatrick when he was coming to have the use of the bed. He'd
been widowed some six years before, his wife a'dying in the giving birth to
her last child, a boy. But she left behind her husband and her three sons,
and so you might say that the best part of her lived on, and that's how it
should be.
     There was Kevin's eldest boy, also named Kevin as who wouldn't name
their eldest boy after himself? Kevin the Younger, or just Younger as he
was called then, was fifteen and a fine, strapping lad with the glint in
his eye that he got when his father laid eyes on his mother the night they
made him. He had a mischievous streak in him, which made him something of a
leader among the boys both in his house and around the village.
     And there was the middle boy, Christopher, or Chris, who was ten and
with the full lips of his mother, so that he always looked as though he was
ready to kiss you. Christopher was also the smartest of the three, the one
who was going to be a doctor or a priest or if he was very smart, the one
who would first get on a boat for America for he was one who would look
around when he was older and see that the only real future for any
Fitzpatrick lay just behind the Lady Liberty in New York harbor.
     And there was the youngest, Kelly, and he was a spunky, wise-mouthed
little rascal of a lad he was. Puts me in mind of you, lad, when you were
his age, which was halfway through the age of six. His cheeks were soft as
the skin of a ripe pear, and as soft as your mother's kiss when she tucks
you in at night. He was the one who could make you laugh when he was
getting into trouble, which any young boy knows is the way to get away with
it, make the grown-up laugh and he'll not be able to punish you the more.
     But the problem for Kevin Fitzpatrick was that he had three boys,
whose own bed was a small, hard mattress filled with only the straw cut
from the fields, and it not big enough for all three of them, and that it
was gave their father such a problem. It wouldn't be right for him to sleep
all alone in that big bed while they crowded together on a bed so small
that one of them had to sleep with his head sticking out of the foot of the
bed, with his brothers' feet shoved in between his own so that when the
morning came after the tossing and turning, the three boys were tied about
each other and it was a like a three-bent-nail puzzle to untangle them in
the mornings.
     Each of the three boys felt he had the answer, and that it was that
he, and not the others, should be the one to join their father in the
family bed.
     "Sure, and I'm the oldest" Younger Kevin said to his brothers. "So
it's me should be in the bed, and the two of you will be comfortable then
in the old."
     "Sure and it's comfortable we'll be if we hang ourselves by our feet
from a nail." Chris said. "But it's not in that bed that we'll be
comfortable. And why should you be the one who shares the family bed, and
me the one who was the godchild of dear Uncle Chris and a favorite nephew,
that was I." And Chris wiped away a tear.
     "You're both wrong." Kelly chipped up so as not to be left out. "If
it's one of us has to be in bed with our father, shouldn't it be the one
who will crowd him the least? With me snuggled up next to you, Daddy,
you'll think you're sleeping alone, and so will I."
     "And you with the way you crawl around in your sleep?" Chris said
slyly. And to his brother Kevin, "And the way you snore, it's like a
banshee flew in the door who stubbed her toe on the sash."
     "Listen to you, you thinking that you don't snore! Saints preserve us!
If you think you don't snore, you just stay awake tonight and listen to
yourself sleep!" Kevin the Younger said. "You'll be hearing what I hear
every night; which is enough to make me wish that I could pull off me ears
and shove them up me bum, so I could have something more pleasant to listen
to."
     Their father held up his hand. "Now it's not to blows you'll be
coming, lads." he said sternly. "We'll just give you each a night with me
and we'll see which of you deserves to be warming the bedcovers each
night. You lads go fetch the broom and we'll take three of the seven straws
it has left from it, and the longest straw will spend the first night, then
the middle straw the second night and the short one the third, and then
it's my own mind I'll make up which of you should be the one sharing the
bed."
     The three boys agreed that this was only fair and Kelly fetched the
straws. It was his father who held them in his hand and the other two who
drew first, so Kelly can't be accused of cheating when he got the longest
straw. Chris, the middle, got the middle straw, and it was Kevin the
Younger who though he drew first, ended up with just a sort of nub of
straw.
     "Faith." he moaned when he saw it. "If this is what I've been sweeping
the floor with, it's no wonder the roaches are laughing at me so hard."
     Kelly threw his arms around his Daddy for joy. "I get to sleep with
Daddy!" he crowed out. "I'm going to take my Saturday night bath tonight,
so I can feel how soft it is."
     "Enjoy it while you can." Chris predicted dourly. "For it's the only
night you'll be getting in it."
     Night couldn't come soon enough for the boy. He took his bath with
special care and washed himself completely. He dawdled so long in the bath
that his father finally called him out, saying, "It's out of the bath you
should be coming now! You get any more wrinkled and it's me you'll be
wanting to run the iron over you."
     So it was into the fabulous Fitzpatrick Family Featherbed that little
Kelly crawled, and he sidled in underneath his father's arm and he said,
"See how soft and warm I am for you, Dad."
     "You're as soft as the sun in the springtime." his father agreed. Both
wore nothing but the skin they had on the day they were born, for that is
how they all slept in those days, and after all, who could be affording to
wear silk pajamas when breakfast was a chunk of bread and lunch was a cold
baked potato and supper might be nothing but your own lower lip? And that
is why the bed was such a luxury as they had never known before.
     "This bed is just as soft as I'd always thought it would be." his son
said in awe. "It's like I'm lying on the clouds of Heaven with the angels
playing a lullaby on their harps for me."
     And Kelly snuggled in closer to his Daddy. "Are you warm enough now?"
he asked.
     "I'm warm as I can be." Kevin said to his littlest boy. "Though I have
to wonder if your brothers, being that they're bigger, wouldn't be the
warmer."
     Kelly was a truthful boy. "They're warm enough." He admitted. "But if
it's me you'll choose to share the bed with you from now on, there is more
that I can do than warm your body next to mine."
     "And what would that be, my youngest one?" Kevin asked his son.
     Kelly reached across his father's body, stroked his father's chest
with his tiny hand, and let it slide down his stomach. "You're much bigger
than Younger and Chris." he sighed. "You're bigger all over, I'll bet."
     And then Kelly's hand found his father's pride and joy and it was a
proud family tool indeed. Kelly found that his hand couldn't fit more than
two thirds of the way around it, and it took both of his hands to hold it
tightly. It was nine solid inches of Celtic potency and Kevin sighed like
the winds in the trees of autumn to feel his son's hands upon it.
     "That's a part of me that hasn't been warmed in a long while." he said
to his son.
     "I'll warm it for you good." Kelly said sincerely. "I'll warm it the
way I warm Younger's and Chris' every morning."
     "Is that what you think it is, warming it up?" Kevin asked.
     "That's what I thought at first." Kelly admitted. "But Younger taught
me better. There's some white stuff inside it, and it has to be squeezed
out so it'll go soft again. And you squeeze it out like this!" And Kelly
began to pump his father's shaft up and down while holding onto it tightly.
     Kevin moaned at the way his littlest boy's hands felt around his
cock. "Sure and that's the way you should squeeze it." he moaned. "Only
it's faster you'll be wanting to do it."
     Kelly got onto his knees and began to use his entire arms to pump his
father's prick, pulling and squeezing up while his little arms flailed
about like a baby bird's testing its wings.
     "Oh, come on, Daddy, let it out." Kelly urged. "There's got to be a
lot of it in here, it's so big. But I'll squeeze it all out, Daddy, don't
you worry. I'll get every last drop out of it so you can sleep on this nice
soft bed really good without any stiff jimmy to keep you awake."
     "Oh, yes, my lad, your hands are the blessings of the Little People,
they jump about so like leprechauns at a dance." Kevin groaned. "If you'll
keep up this jig but a moment more, you'll see how much you can squeeze out
of your poor, dear father who hasn't been squeezed in many a month."
     "Poor Daddy." Kelly crooned as he pounded his daddy's prick. "I'll
milk it all out of you, don't you worry none. Every bit of it."
     "Ah, ah, I can feel it building up." Kevin moaned. "It's going to be
ponderous load of it, my boy, I think that if you aren't careful, you'll
splash it all over your sweet, clean, little body."
     "I don't care, Daddy, you got to get it out of you so you can sleep."
young Kelly said bravely. "You let it splash all over me, and I'll wash it
away come morning."
     "Ah, ah, ah, here it comes, me lad, here it comes." And with a many a
groan that would delight a wolf to give to the full moon, Kevin burst loose
his load and he sprayed his young boy with it in a wash that covered the
strapping young lad from his head to his stomach. Kelly let the white flood
hit him and he laughed to see how much relief he gave to his poor father,
and he joyed that his hand had brought his father relief he so sorely
needed. True to his word, he continued to squeeze and milk his father's pud
while covered with hot white jizz that drizzled and dripped from his body
which had just been cleaned so well.
     Done at last, Kevin's cock did in fact shrivel down to a soft lump and
Kelly gently let it go and said, "Now, Daddy, you can see how much you need
me in this bed with you at night, so you won't be having these stiff jimmys
keeping up awake."
     "True it is that I could get used to your hands helping with my jimmy
every night." Kevin admitted. "But I must let your brothers have their fair
chance." he cautioned.
     And Kelly bowed his head to acquiesce to his father's decision.
     But young Kelly, fairly worn out by the labor of caring for his
father's stiff manhood, had slumped down with his head upon his father's
belly, and still covered with the sticky white jizz that is the source of
the Fitzpatricks you know and love today, he slept. Kevin was too kind to
rouse his son, so he left his little boy just as he was, snuggled against
his father's body and with a smile on his face in slumber that was just the
way his dear departed wife had smiled. And with that comforting thought of
the dead living on in their children, and in the soft comfort of the
featherbed that had rested many a weary Fitzpatrick head, Kevin Fitzpatrick
slept.
     Kevin had to rise very early in the mornings to go to his job, and he
worked with a lighter heart. The bed was restful and his son's caring
ministration to him had eased his heart, and so his work was a joy to him
and his boss noticed the improvement and commented on it to him. "It's the
bed I was telling to you of." he said to his boss, a nice man for a cursed
Englishman. "It's come to my family and the luck of the family has come
with it."
     "You're a good man, Fitzpatrick." the boss told him. "I'll be needing
a foreman to watch things when I go to visit my mother this summer. So I'll
be watching you and your new bed."
     So it was with a light heart that Kevin returned home, and there it
was that his middle son, Chris was waiting for him. "It's my night in the
bed with you." he said when his father walked in the door.
     "That it is and you'll get your chance." his father promised him.
     "I'll be wanting my bath tonight." Chris said, "for I'll not be
outdone by my little brother in anything at all."
     "I'm sure you'll be just fine." his father assured him. "And I'll give
you every chance the same as I gave him."
     With all the grace of his mother in his movements, Chris joined his
father in the bed that night and pressed his body against his father
bashfully. "Is this the way of warming you up?" he asked.
     "It's a wonderfully warm son you are." Kevin assured his boy. And
those lips of his, that always reminded him of his departed wife, beckoned
to him and he reached out and he kissed his boy's lips and they were soft
and warm and delightful against his own. "Ah, my lad." he said to his
middle son. "Your lips are your mother's, every part of them, and it makes
me think when I kiss them that she is back with me once again."
     Chris was too young at his mother's passing to remember her, so his
heart wasn't burdened with the weight of knowing her. "Then kiss them
again, my father." he said. "For I like to feel your arms around me and I
like the feel of your lips against mine." And when his father reached for
another kiss, Chris was so bold as to gently suck his father's tongue into
his mouth and he suckled the fat pink worm and his father sighed in the
bliss of feeling it once again.
     "Ah, but if that was the only way I miss that mouth." he sighed when
the kiss was done and his tongue was his own again. "I should be a happy
man."
     Chris was a bright lad, as I have said before, and he didn't need any
more than those words and the feel of his father's shaft lying thick and
warm along his thigh to know what his father meant. He smiled and said,
"Then let me show you how these lips can be yours every night if I can keep
the sharing of the bed with you." And Chris moved down his father's body
the way that his younger brother had, and this time it was not the hand
which touched his father's manhood and life, it was those lips, those
marvelous lips, they had returned to Kevin once again in the body of his
son and it was like a homecoming.
     Full, warm and rich, those lips encircled his cockhead and rich, warm
and full, they slid down his shaft, and Kevin's tool was bathed with warmth
and sweetness. Chris let his mouth pour its water over his father's dong
and like a boy bathing his dog, he bathed his father's dick and then began
to scrub it with those velvet lips!
     "Ah, my boy." Kevin said as his son's lips began to slide up and down
on his pud, bringing with it in its wake the joys of the angels. "Your lips
are as soft as the down inside this featherbed, and I wish that you could
keep this up forever."
     Chris smiled around his father's prick and kept on his duties, but he
afterwards said that, if he could have talked, he would have replied, "Sure
and wouldn't that be something to explain to my teachers? If I am to be
traveling all over town with my father's dick in my mouth, I might as well
stay home."
     But he was a dutiful lad and kept on nursing his father's prick,
bringing the sturdy pud into a hard, shiny column of silver light and Kevin
was moaning with the delights which sounds like the tortured souls in hell,
and it's only the quality of the feeling which makes the difference. Chris
sucked his father's prick with all the skill and enjoyment of a
long-experienced master of the art, and Kevin was lifted up to heaven by
the wings of his son's lips and it was with a howl of sheer joy that he
erupted into his son's mouth and filled that warm maw with his seed, a
gusher which wasn't any the less than the night before, only this time it
was his middle son who swallowed it, and swallowed he did, but even so,
there was too much of it and Chris snorted and coughed and dribbles of come
slid out of his nostrils and dripped from his mouth and squelched about as
he continued to plunge his father's dong in and out of his mouth. Just as
his brother, he didn't stop until he had drained every drop of his father's
jism and then he studiously licked up the mess that was made, until every
bit of the jizz was safely inside him but for the droplets that hung from
his nose even so. These he wiped away with his forearm and he crawled into
his father's arm and said, "And that, my father, is what I'll give you
every night if you'll choose me to share this bed with you from now on."
     "And where did you learn this dance of delight with your mouth, my
son?" Kevin asked.
     "I've been practicing." Chris said shyly.
     "And that was obvious, if my cock had been a violin, you would have
been playing it down in Dublin at the theater to thunderous applause." his
father assured him. "But who has been your teacher in this art of oral
delight?"
     "It's Younger." Chris admitted. "Now that he has reached his manhood
and has the scattering of hair about his dick, he is eager to have his
virility tested every night, and so he climbs in the night onto my chest
and he shoves it into me. First I struggled against it, but no longer, now
indeed I am often the one who is seeking him out for I find it to be a
wonderful delight, the taste and feel of a man's cock, and now that I've
had the man-apple fully ripened on the vine, I'll not settle for the
smaller fruit of my brother the more. But say that I'll the one sharing
this bed from now on, and I'll be the happiest boy in all of Eire."
     "True it is that I could get used to your lips nursing my jimmy every
night." Kevin admitted. "But I must let your brothers have their fair
chance." he cautioned.
     And Chris bowed his head to acquiesce to his father's decision.
     The next day Kevin was again able to work cheerfully through the day,
even the other workers noticed this about him and asked him. "It's the
Fitzpatrick Family Featherbed." Kevin said lightly. "It brings me heart joy
and rest beyond all compare." The men were taken somewhat aback by this
explanation, but as Kevin was so obviously sincere, they began to believe
him, and there was muttering that such a lucky man as he was a man to be
reckoned with. They began to ask his advice and guidance as if he were
already their foreman, which made the job and the raise in salary it would
mean seem more real than ever.
     He sang loudly on the walk home, tipping his cap to the ladies and
beaming at all who looked at him. Many said that he walked like the king of
creation, and there were whispers about his new acquisition, the fabulous,
fantastic Fitzpatrick Family Featherbed. "The bed must be a gift from the
Little People, charmed to bring all who sleep within it good fortune and
happiness." Old Lady McNamara declared, and there were many who agreed with
her.
     After they ate supper, Younger Kevin declared, "Now, Father, it is my
turn to share your bed tonight. I know the tricks my brothers have used to
make you consider their case the kinder, but their childish games shall be
forgotten tonight." Only Younger used the more formal "Father" to his dad.
     "Sure and that's a mighty powerful boast to be making." Kevin told his
son. "You're getting to be a man now, but there's a lot more growing you
need to do to become a man."
     When Younger came to the Featherbed, his father sniffed him. "Faith,
but you've been at my bay rum!" he said. "You're too young to be shaving,
lad!"
     "I didn't shave my face." Younger said.
     "Then where were you taking my straight-razor to you, your arse?"
Kevin said. Then, "You did, you shaved your bum for me?"
     "I wanted to be smooth for you, Father." Younger said. "My hairs
weren't such a burden to remove."
     "But didn't the bay rum sting you?"
     "That it did." the boy said. "But it was to be done."
     Kevin was impressed. "Now that's the way of a man, all right!"
     "Now to earn my place in your bed." Younger sidled up next to his
father, and the kiss he laid on his father's lips was not that of a
child. Kevin found himself with an ardent lover in his bed, the soft hands
of his eldest boy were stroking his body in ways that he hadn't felt for
many a day.
     "Where have you been learning this?" he asked after a time.
     "My friends and I have been practicing with each other." Younger
admitted. "Finding out what feels good and what doesn't. It wouldn't do to
go to our wedding bed with no notion of what to do, but we shouldn't go
spoiling any young girl's chances of being a virgin for her husband, and
the whores take money that we don't have, and aren't very clean,
either. Better to tup your buddy in his bum and let him tup you."
     "That is the way of it." Kevin said. "I did the same with me own
chums."
     "Now I know that Kelly used his hands on you." Younger put his hands
down his father's stomach and grasped the powerful glory of the Fitzpatrick
clan. "Did he do it for you something like this?" and he began to pump his
father's prick.
     "Ah, nay, he used both his hands, to get the better hold of it."
     "One is enough for me." Younger pointed out and proved it beyond all
doubt by the drubbing he gave his dad's prong, he pummeled that shaft until
it was enraged and angry red at the tip.
     "And Chris probably used his so-rosy lips, I suppose." Younger said as
he slid under the covers.
     "He may have done something of the sort." his father admitted.
     Younger's lips weren't so fine as Chris', but Younger had experience
and then some in how to work what he had. A thin line of supple pleasure
gripped and greased their way over the already-incensed dong, so that his
dad was once again groaning his delight at the warm ecstasy that another's
mouth can give a man at the end of a hard day of work.
     "Your lips are a match for your brother's." he gasped after a
time. "But I cannot say that you are the better."
     "Then let me now show you what Chris and Kelly can't give you."
Younger said. "And also show you why I was at such pains to scrape me hairs
from me tuckerhole."
     He had slicked up Kevin's pud in no mean measure, and that thick
slippery slime did a fine duty by lotioning the path as Younger Kevin sat
on Elder Kevin's lap and guided the heavy schlong into his supple young
body.
     If a mouth has a warmth to it, the bum is the furnace that sends the
warm air up the long chimney to it. Kevin was wrapped up in a sea of fiery
softness that clutched and stroked him in sinuous rhythm, for Younger was
clenching his buns as he pulled upwards, and relaxing them as he let his
body fall back down.
     Kevin just lay on his back and decided that he was in heaven for
certain. "I could die now and not notice the difference between you and an
angel." he said to Younger. "Ride my shaft, boy, ride it and milk it all
out."
     "That I shall do." Younger declared and now he began to bounce on his
father's dick, and his father reached up and grasped his son's smaller rod,
a tiny poker that proclaimed its eagerness to join the fray, and he pumped
it in time to his son's strokes upon his own fuckpole, and Younger gasped
and his butt clutched his father even tighter.
     "Ah, it is the glory of the ages." Kevin muttered as his pleasure
built within him. "Sure and this is the delight that never ends. A man may
spend a night dancing with the fairies and come out to find a century has
passed and now, my lad, now I understand how he could do it! Ah, ride me,
lad, ride me hard!"
     "Ah, yes, Father, yes!" Younger moaned. "Fill me with your fire, fill
me, fill me!"
     And what man could be so hard as to not answer such a plea? Kevin
could not, he groaned and his cock burst upwards into his son's bum with
the explosions of a thousand fireflies lighting up at once. Younger's eyes
grew wide as he felt the hot seed spattering his insides and he moaned and
his little burst of clear seed flew out to sprinkle his father's chest, and
as Kevin's climax left him drained and gasping, his son fell onto his chest
with his own heavy sobs of relief and release.
     "Faith, Father, but you're better than any of my buddies." he
said. "Never again shall I give to them, for you are the best of them all!"
     Kevin tenderly pulled the covers up over the both of them. "Rest, my
lad, and enjoy the Featherbed." he said. "For the softness of these billows
are matched by the softness of your skin and you are more than a match for
your brothers."
     By the looks his younger sons gave him at breakfast, Kevin could tell
that they worried about their chances for future excursions in the
bed. Kelly had the nerve to ask his father about it. "Daddy, did you
promise Younger he could have the Featherbed?"
     "I've made no promises yet." Kevin said.
     "But you did say he was the better of us." Chris pressed in his turn.
     "I may have said something like that." Kevin admitted.
     "Then we lost!" Kelly wailed.
     "I didn't say that!"
     "Then what did you say?" Chris asked. "We heard you through the walls,
how could we help but hear, the way you were shaking the bed was shaking
the entire house. I thought to myself, if I were to die here because my dad
and my brother were fucking too hard, how could I be explaining it to the
priest on Saturday afternoon when I say my confession?'
     Younger was unconcerned about his brother's excitement. "You each had
your turn and so did I." He said. "You can't be mad because I'm older than
you and know more than you."
     "You already chose." Kelly cried to his father.
     "I have not." Kevin said firmly. "I'll remember when I do choose that
you can't know as much as your brothers know. I'll remember that, I promise
ye one and all."
     It was the best he could do. Kevin spent a good bit of the day
frowning as he did his labors. The men who had been asking his aid the day
before went to him caps in hand to ask him this day, and he answered them
in tones that were kind but not kindly. His boss noticed him doing this and
praised him, saying, "Sure and you're the one for the foreman's job, Kevin
Fitzpatrick. You know when to join in with the men and when to stand apart
from them, and that's the way a boss has to be."
     So Kevin was cheered some by this promise of better times to come. He
stopped at the pub to get a pint and considered again his dilemma. How
could he choose among these three fine lads. "Sure," he told
himself. "Younger knows more, but that made him less in each of
them. Kelly's sweet young hands are like a ballet dancer on the stage,
moving quickly and lightly. Chris' lips are the delights of the universe
when they wrap around me prick. And Younger, too, when he sits on my lap,
it's like an angel is resting there. If only I could have Kelly's hands,
Chris' lips and Younger's bum all at the same time...." And that was as far
as he had thought it out as he wended his way home and into the front door.
     He heard the noises before he opened the door and as he did, he got an
eyeful to match his earful. His sons were all on the Featherbed. Younger
had his young cock up Chris' butt and Kelly had his mouth on Chris' prick.
     Younger was sounding like a sergeant in the army trying to get his men
to all march in step. "Now, when you feel me pulling out, hold onto
it. Hold tight like you don't want me to pull it out at all. Kelly, you
have to keep your mouth wet all the time. Don't keep swallowing your spit,
you just dry out your mouth."
     "I can't breathe with his dick in me mouth." Kelly complained. "Me
nose is clogged up."
     "You have to figure out how if you want to suck a man's dick good."
Younger said encouragingly. "I'll pull out of Chris and let you try mine
for a while."
     "Sure and what's going on here?" Kevin called out. "My own sons in me
bed and fornicating in daylight. If your mother were alive now, she'd be
turning over in her grave."
     "We wanted to know how, too." Kelly said.
     "Know what?"
     "How to please you the way Younger did." Chris said. "If he knows more
than us, he can just teach us and then we'll know it, too."
     "And was this your idea?" Kevin asked his eldest.
     "Now Father, why would I want to be able to fuck my brothers and have
them suck my dick every afternoon?" he asked innocently. "It's a pleasure
to teach my brothers what they need to know."
     "Sure and it's a pleasure, is it?" Kevin said. "If there's teaching to
be done, it's me who'll do it. Now scoot over while I strip out of these
old work clothes, and then we'll begin your schooling, all three of you."
     Kevin got into the bed and said, "Now, all of you, Kelly does the best
with the hands, so Younger, you and Chris watch how he does it." To his
youngest. "Okay, lad, show them how to handle your daddy's prick for him."
     Kelly beamed with the praise and he caught hold of his dad's cock,
which was still half-soft, and with a few expert strokes he brought it to
full turgidity. "Now you see how he did that?"
     "I think so." Chris said.
     "Maybe you'd better have him show us some more." Younger said
doubtfully.
     "Okay, Kelly, get to pumping it." Kevin said. "Now pay attention, I'll
expect you to be able to do the same if you're in this bed."
     Chris and Younger watched as Kelly gave his dad a good pounding, his
two young little hands plied their skill avidly.
     Kevin was gasping and he said, "Now, then, a hand is wonderful but
there's more to it than that. Chris, you know how to suck better than any
other I've ever known, so show your brothers how to suck my dick."
     Chris leaned over and Kelly held the prick steady for his brother as
he guided it into those lusciously full lips and they slathered the dry
cockhead with boiling, churning juices that awakened the surging tide
within.
     "See how he...moves his lips...slowly and steadily." Kevin panted as
his middle son wrung pleasure from him. "It's like he...is playing...a
violin in an...orchestra...it is!"
     "He does have a nice rhythm going." Younger admitted. "I bet I can
match that with my bum, though."
     Chris, get your mouth to watering it down for your brother." Kevin
said. "I can see that your talents aren't competing with each other so much
as they help each other out."
     Chris did as he was bidden, pouring his saliva over his dad's prick,
and when Younger sat down on it, he gasped. "Ah, that's so much better." he
groaned. "It's like my bunghole was made for your cock, Father, it fits in
so well!
     Chris, not to be left out of his father's pleasure, moved down and
began to suckle his dad's balls as Younger did his clutching, grasping
ride. Not to be outdone, Kelly's hands found and played with his daddy's
tits, the little fingers plying over the nipples and twisting and wringing
pleasure from them.
     With so much hitting his senses all at once, poor Kevin was at his
sons' mercy and he lay there and they had their pleasures with him, Younger
fucking himself, Chris sucking his balls, Kelly playing his tits like they
were a pair of marbles, and he moaned, and his body filled with climax, not
just his cock, his entire body felt like one enormous orgasm and he was
yelling out his pleasure and his three boys urged his pleasure even higher
and when he climaxed, he poured his very soul out in it, and what was left
over felt much like an emptied bladder after the visit to the pisspot, an
empty, unneeded sort of thing.
     "So, Father." Younger Kevin said. "Have you made up your mind which of
us will be sleeping in your bed with you."
     "I have indeed." their father proclaimed. He looked into three eager
faces and grinned at them, until they were ready to burst.
     "Oh, Daddy, tell us!" Kelly begged.
     "Come on, Dad!" Chris said.
     "Yes, Father, do tell." Younger urged him.
     "There's only one thing to do. The best one of you to share this bed
is all of you. I say that you can all sleep with me and we'll come up with
more ways for you to use your talents together like you just did."
     There was a general rejoicing among the Fitzpatrick boys at that. When
they snuggled up next to their father, one and all, Kevin sighed with
contentment.
     "Me boss has been noticing how happy I am." he told his boys. "And the
happier I am, the more people want to honor me. I have to say, after a few
years sleeping in this bed with you three boys, I could well be happy
enough to get elected as the next Pope!"
     Well, he never made it to Pope, but he did get that foreman's job and
his family did much better from that time on, both in Ireland and here in
the good old U.S.A. and it was all due to the famous, the fabulous,
Fitzpatrick Family Featherbed, which is the very same bed in my bedroom
that you've been wondering about, yes, the very same.
     And now, lad, time for you to come to bed with me and we'll keep our
good Irish family traditions alive, for that's what St. Patrick's Day is
really all about.

				  THE END
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