Date: Tue, 27 Mar 2001 07:10:07
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: "St. Patrick's With the Brewsters"  (t/b, t/t, faeries)

Caution/Welcome.  This is a story involving four brothers, two preteens and
two fourteen-year- olds, and two sprites from Ireland, a leprechaun and his
faerie friend.  It is posted at free gay adult story sites for adult
entertainment only.  Permission is not given to copy electronically nor in
any other form for the purpose of redistribution or posting at sites other
than those described here.  This is the eleventh of the Brewster Boys
special events and myths series.  Comments, pots of gold, and Irish
blessings can be sent to the author, J.O. Dickingson, at
authorsix@hotmail.com who recommends you use glow-in-the-dark
green-coloured condoms for St.  Patrick's Day.

                St. Patrick's with the Brewsters

     "I wonder what it can be," Brenda Brewster said excitedly as she and
her husband set the heavy, bulky parcel on the table.
     "Hey, what the he-, he-, he-, heck is that?" asked Benny as he and his
three brothers came charging into the kitchen for something to snack on.
     "He, he, he asks," giggled fourteen-year-old Brent, knowing his
younger brother had almost blurted out a curse word.
     "With a he, he, he," added his twin brother Brett and the two boys
high-fived.
     Twelve-year-old Benny turned so his parents could not see and gave his
twin brothers the finger.
     Their youngest brother, Bobby, had meanwhile climbed up on the chair
and leaned across the table to watch his parents open the parcel.  "So what
is it?"
     "A parcel from Aunt Mavis from Ballinamuck."
     "From where?" the four boys asked, all conjuring up erotic images that
were remarkably similar, although considering the closeness of the four
brothers and their single-minded interest, that should not have been a
surprise.  Benny, on the verge of puberty, sprung an instant woody and had
to reach down and manoeuver it into a more comfortable position, much to
the amusement of his brothers.  Fortunately he was wearing his baggy
camouflage cargo pants, which managed to camouflage his little
three-and-three-quarter inch boner.
     "That's in Ireland," Brenda Brewster explained, oblivious to her sons'
thoughts and Benny's problem.  Having removed the paper wrapping, she and
her husband were now struggling with the packing tape sealing the box.
     "We got an aunt in Ireland?  I thought our relatives were Scottish."
     "They are, but gramma's sister Mavis married an Irishman."
     "Is his name Patrick?" asked ten-year-old Bobby.
     "Goodness, yes.  How did you know that?" Brenda asked in surprise.
     "I know a poem about an Irishman named Patrick," ten-year-old Bobby
said with a twinkle in his hazel eyes and a devilish grin.  With his high
cheek bones, fine nose and mouth, and stylish dark brown hair with the
front combed up to form sort of a crest, the four-foot-four, sixty- four
pound youngster looked every bit of the tease that he was.  "There was a
young man from Limerick, a gay young fellow known as Patrick," he began and
his brothers burst into giggles as they thought of the conclusion of the
dirty rhyme and wondered if their impish brother really would say it right
to the end.
     "I don't think that's the same Patrick," the boys' dad quickly
interjected.  If that was the limerick that he knew, he didn't think his
wife would appreciate the rest of it.  He made a note to talk to his
youngest son about what else the word "gay" meant besides happy, and
explain what it was that Patrick had that "in inches it was four, which
made the lads quite sore, cuz that weren't the length but was how thick."
     "So how come she sent us a parcel?" asked Brent.
     "Must be for Saint Patrick's Day."
     "Why do we celebrate Saint Patrick's anyway?" asked Benny.
     "Yeah, that's dumb.  We're American, not Irish. And besides, if we're
gonna celebrate, we should be celebrating Scottish holidays, not Irish
ones," agreed Brent.
     "Yeah, and with our Scottish relatives," said Brett with a smile and a
gleam in his sparkling blue eyes as he tossed his long, blond hair back.
     "Gordie say anything yet about coming over for another visit?" asked
Bobby, thinking the same thing as his brothers.  Their cousin's visit last
July fourth was an event they would never forget, and, they suspected, nor
would their Scottish cousin.
     "No, not yet," Brenda Brewster replied with a smile.  Cousin Gordie
from Scotland had evidently made a big impact on the four boys. Ever since
his visit they had been constantly pestering her to arrange for another
visit.
     "You gotta ask again, Mom."
     "Yeah, you gotta insist he come," Benny observed.
     "Oh yeah, we wanna see him come," chorused his three brothers with
huge grins and the four broke into a fit of giggles.
     "Well, I'll certainly let them know over in Scotland again," their
mother promised.  "I must say I am pleased that you and Gordie hit it off
so well."
     The boys glanced at each other and toppled off their chairs in a burst
of laughter.  Brenda looked over at her husband and he shook his head as he
raised his right eyebrow.  The boys evidently had had more than their quota
of sugar for the day.
     "Anyway, I think if Saint Patrick's is so important, it should be a
school holiday," observed Benny, the first of the four to recover from
their mother's comment about 'hitting it off'.
     "Yeah, it should," his three brothers readily agreed.
     By this time their parents had cut through the packing tape and were
opening up the box.  Inside was a four foot long by two foot wide and three
foot tall terrarium filled with green plants and tiny shrubs.
     "What the heck is that?" Benny asked, his face contorting with
bewilderment and disappointment.
     "It's a terrarium of shamrocks and Irish plants," said their Mother,
reading from the letter they'd found taped to the top of the terrarium.
     "That's a dumb gift," observed Bobby.
     "Now Bobby, no gift is a dumb gift," admonished his father.
     "That's right, it's the thought that counts," agreed his wife.
     The boys looked at each other and immediately thought of the cartoon
underwear they'd gotten for Christmas from Aunt Martha.
     "All gifts," said their father with an impish grin as he also thought
of the boys' present from his wife's sister, something that was still a
source of amusement for him.
     "Besides, shamrocks are supposed to be lucky," added his wife quickly,
knowing what the males in her family were thinking and where the
conversation was going to head if she didn't interrupt it.
     "It's lucky I didn't sprain my back carrying it from the car to the
house," observed Barry Brewster and his four sons laughed.  Among the many
things they'd inherited from their dad, his wit and sense of humour were
two.
     "Well," said Bobby, climbing down off the chair, "we come for
something to snack on.  Can we have some cookies?"
     "Very well, but only take one each.  Supper is in half an hour."
     "What are we having?"
     "Tuna casserole and broccoli," Brenda responded, engrossed in the
letter from her aunt.
     The boys glanced at each other and with their eyes widening by the
second, they each took a handful of chocolate chip cookies.  As their dad
stepped toward them, they figured he was going to make them put them back,
and they were about to explain that they'd thought their mother meant one
handful each.  They should have known their father better.  Barry motioned
for them to get out of the kitchen before they were noticed as he helped
himself to a handful also.
     The next morning, Friday, March seventeenth, their mother sent them
off to school with ham sandwiches, the spread being coloured green with
food dye, lime juice boxes, and a supply of sugar cookies cut in the shape
of shamrocks and covered with green icing in their lunch bags.
     "Hey, Mr. Blackburn," greeted Bobby.  "Way cool you decided to wear
something green for Saint Patrick's Day."
     "Something green?" the two-hundred-and-seventy pound bus driver asked,
shifting uncomfortably in his seat.  Although he was never able to pin
anything on them, he did not trust any of the Brewster brothers, and least
of all, Bobby Brewster.
     "Yeah.  You look real cool with that emerald nose stud."
     "I'm not wearing a nose stud," the chubby, forty-one-year-old bus
driver commented with a perplexed expression.
     "Oh," said Bobby, looking closer.  "Oh yeah, my mistake.  It's a bit
of snot."
     The entire bus broke into laugher as the driver turned beet red.
     "Sorry, my mistake," the ten-year-old said with an impish grin as he
scooted down the aisle.
     As Blackburn angrily shut the door, he wondered if he really did have
something on his nose, or if it was one of the boy's vulgar pranks.  He
rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, pretending it was itchy, and
then quickly glanced down at his hand and then in the rear view mirror.  He
found himself looking right in the big innocent eyes of the grinning
ten-year-old.  The overweight bus driver resolved to once again ask for a
different bus route next year.  Unfortunately the boys' reputation was well
known by the entire transportation staff so he knew his chances were going
to be zero.
     "Hey, Scott, you wanna cookie?" offered Bobby as they got off the bus.
"They're special Saint Patrick's cookies.  Or maybe my lime juice?  At
least I think it's lime."  The chubby grade five bully paused for only a
second before declining the offer.  Ever since he'd heard that the Brewster
boys had spit in the sandwiches and peed in the drinks he'd stolen from
them he'd left them and their friends alone.  Of course he had no way of
knowing if the rumour was true, but it sounded like something the Brewsters
would do.  As he headed into the school, the rotund bully rationalized his
decision with the fact that from their reputation, there was no telling
what the Brewster brothers might have put in the cookies, or what the juice
box really contained.
     "Hey Brent," called out one of the grade nine jocks.  "Thought you and
your brother said you were going to dye your pretty hair green for Saint
Patrick's."
     "Actually, I expected the two of you to have worn your pretty green
dresses today," teased another.
     "Or at least put a pretty green ribbon in your hair," said a third.
     "We did dye our hair," the fourteen-year-old replied.  He and his
brother had silky blond hair that now extended half way down their backs.
They were constantly being teased about their long locks by the jocks and
the skinheads at the junior high school, and about their effeminate looks.
The twins, now five feet tall and a hundred-and-one pounds, had fair skin,
deep blue eyes, thin lips and fine-featured noses, all inherited from their
mother.  Their delicate looks and small boned frames did make them look
like young girls, and with Brent being good in history and writing and
Brett good in maths and science, they were constantly the butt of jokes and
taunts by the other boys if not for their appearance then because of their
good grades.
     "What you talking about?  Your hair's not green."
     "Not that hair," Brent grinned impishly.  "You that stupid you didn't
know which hair we meant, or you just hinting you wanna look in our pants?"
     The jock glared at him, not knowing how to respond.  He wasn't about
to admit to being stupid, but he just as definitely did not want anyone to
think he wanted to look in the twins' pants.  Aware of his friends all
watching him, he did the only thing he could.  "You just wait," he snarled
as he turned and headed into the school.  Brent and Brett high-fived.
     "Shit, I forgot we was supposed to wear green today," said Bobby.  In
the elementary school they had the custom that if you didn't wear green you
got pinched.
     "I didn't forget," observed Benny.
     "What are you wearing green?" Bobby asked, narrowing his eyes as he
looked his brother over.
     "My Fruit of the Looms," Benny grinned impishly.  "I can't wait for
the first person to bet me something I'm not wearing green.  I'll drop my
pants and show them!"
     "You'd drop your pants even if they didn't bet you anything," observed
his older brother.
     "I think you're confusing me with Bobby," Benny replied with a grin.
     "Well I think it's a great idea.  I'm gonna do that too," observed the
ten-year-old.
     "But you're not wearing green Fruit of the Looms.  You don't even own
a pair of green underwear."
     "No.  I'm gonna take my underwear off, and then when I go to show
them, I'll say oops, I forgot to put them on," Bobby said with a wide grin.
He and his brother laughed as they high- fived.
     "You're wicked, brother," Benny said appreciatively.
     "Learnin' from you," Bobby replied with a grin as he headed toward the
elementary school and Benny cut across the lot to the junior high next door
with the twins.  It was going to be a great day.
     When the boys got home, their parents had several surprises for them.
The first was supper.
     "What's this?" Bobby asked, wrinkling up his nose.
     "A true Irish specialty," his mom responded.  Brenda Brewster loved
cooking up special dishes for her family on holidays and special occasions.
"Green beans, corn beef and cabbage."
     "Cabbage?" the four boys asked, wrinkling up their noses.  "And green
beans?  And what kinda beef?"
     "Never mind, you'll like it."
     The boys knew whenever a parent said "you'll like it" it was something
gross.
     "And what's in the pitcher?"
     "Lime Kool Aid."
     "Oh.  Glad you made lots," observed Brett, who, like his brothers,
figured he was going to need at least a galleon to wash down this supper.
     "And for dessert we have mint chocolate chip ice cream."
     "All right!" the boys and their father all chimed in.
     "Can we just have the Kool Aid and ice cream?" asked Brent.
     "I don't think so," his mother said with a grin.
     "What is that you and Dad are drinking?"
     "Green beer."
     "Yeeew!" the boys responded, wrinkling up their noses.  At least they
had Kool Aid.
     "How'd you make it green?"
     "Same as your ham spread," their mom explained.  "Just added a bit of
food dye.  Guess I'd best warn you, if you find things have a bit of a
greenish tint when you go to the bathroom, don't worry.  It's just the food
colouring."
     That the four boys were quite eager to see.  The second surprise was
that the boys' parents were going out to a Saint Patrick's Day dance.  The
boys spent the first half of the evening playing Donkey Kong and Jet Force
Gemini on their Nintendo.  As was his habit, Bobby got so involved in the
game he didn't want to pause, even though he had to go to the bathroom.  He
reached down and squeezed his dick as he focussed on playing.
     "Fuck," he cursed as Benny scored the wining point.
     "Well it's not a surprise.  You can't concentrate on the game and play
with your joy stick at the same time," teased Benny.
     "I wasn't playing with it.  I got to take a leak."
     "Okay.  On your way back bring me a cookie."
     "Think Dad ate them all."
     "After all that corn beef and cabbage he ate?"
     "Yeah."
     "Fuck."
     "Anyway, I don't feel like going all the way to the bathroom."
     "Thought you hadda take a leak."
     "Do."
     "Then whatcha gonna do?"
     Bobby looked around.  "Think those shamrocks need watering."
     "You wouldn't!"
     "Sure I would," Bobby replied with an impish grin, having caught the
attention of Brent and Brett also.
     "Dare ya."
     "What'll ya give me if I do?"
     "I'll go make us some popcorn."
     "You're on," Bobby said, leaping to his feet.  Removing the cover of
the terrarium, he pulled down his fly and took out his soft, two-inch
penis.  His brothers gathered around.  Pulling back on his loose foreskin
and pushing his hips forward, the ten-year-old concentrated and a few
seconds later a greenish-yellow stream began to flow from his little dick.
     "Aaaggggh!  Jaysus!"
     "Begob, what manner of rain be this!"
     "Holy fuck, talking shamrocks!" said Bobby, his hazel eyes wide as he
quickly stemmed the flow of his urine.
     Seeing a movement in the thickest growth of the plants, the four boys
leaned forward.
     "There's something in there."
     "Part the plants."
     "You kidding?  They're soaked with Bobby's piss."
     "You do it Bobby."
     "No way."
     "It's your piss."
     "I don't give a fuck about a little piss.  It's that maybe what's
hiding in there bites."
     They didn't have to part the plants.  At that moment two little men,
six inches tall, crawled out from under the growth.  The one, a wrinkled
old man with pointed ears and a shock of bright red hair and a curly red
beard, was wearing a green, broad-brimmed cap with a gold buckle, a green
frock coat, white socks up to his knees, a leather apron, old-fashioned
bucked shoes, and a pair of green breeches, which at the moment were about
his ankles.  The second individual had thick auburn hair, pointed little
ears, and two fine, transparent wings about three inches long.  He was
wearing yellow shoes, a pale purple satin pullover shirt and pale purple
drawstring satin pants, which were also about his ankles.  The boys leaned
even closer to check the two men out.
     "Stay back," threatened the green-clad individual, picking up his cane
and waving it at them.
     "I fear they intend on eating us.  Look at those teeth!" shouted the
other as he cringed back against a tiny shrub.
     "No, it is not hunger that is causing those gaping gobs."
     "Are you sure?"
     "I know leers when I see them," the green-clad individual assured as
he pulled up his underwear and pants.  His friend quickly did likewise.
     "Well, I suppose after taking a slash on us, they would hardly be
wanting to eat us," the little man in purple observed.
     "After what?" asked Bobby.
     "Poolie," responded the man in green.
     "Urinate.  Taking a pee," explained the other little man.
     "Hey, I'm sorry about that," Bobby apologized.  "I wouldn't have . . .
  poolied if I'd known ya was there."
     "Sorry?  You should watch where you're taking a slash you little
mallet-head," admonished the green-clad individual angrily as he waved his
cane.  "Yer brain must be smaller than yer kaks."  The old man was much
coarser and earthier than his gossamer-winged friend, and had a much
shorter temper.
     "Kaks?"
     "Yer dangles, yer, yer, yer testicles."
     "Oh yeah, well I'll have you know I got big kaks.  And how was I
suppose to see you anyway?" Bobby retorted.  He wasn't that sorry that he
was going to stand there and get shit for doing something that wasn't his
fault.  If it was anyone's fault, it was theirs for hiding in the
terrarium.
     "Yeah, we had no idea you were there," supported Benny.
     "What were you doing in there anyway?" asked Brett.
     "Yeah, what were you doing?" asked Bobby with a suggestive grin.
     "We, were, well, it is none of yer business what Morchella and I were
doing."
     "Well you were doing it in our terrarium," objected Bobby.
     "Yeah, that makes it our business," supported Benny again.
     "Besides, we don't let just anybody drop their pants in our house,"
observed Brent.
     "We don't?" asked his three brothers in surprise as they looked at
him.
     "Well, not without inviting us," Brent corrected.
     "Yeah, right, not without inviting us," his three brothers chorused in
agreement as they returned their attention to the two little men.
     "Well, what we were doing is something lads yer age would not have any
knowledge of," observed the one obviously called Morchella.
     "Wanna fuckin' bet?" asked Bobby.
     The two little men looked at each other, and then up at the boys.
"With language like that you should have yer cake-hole washed out with
soap," admonished the man in green.
     "Don't try to change the topic," said Bobby, who like his brothers,
was an expert on changing the topic, especially if about to be punished.
"So what were ya doin' with your pants down?  Whacking it, fucking,
sucking, what?"
     "Well you needn't be vulgar about it," the man in green said
indignantly.
     "Hey Bobby's always vulgar," observed Brent with a grin.
     "Yeah, that's our kid bro," agreed Brett.
     "Well I learned from three experts on vulgarness," Bobby retorted.
     "That's what older brothers are for."
     "Yeah?" observed Benny.  "I always wondered what you two were for."
     "How'd you like a swift kick in the butt?"
     "How'd you like to kiss my butt?"
     "Hey if you're gonna have sex I want in too," observed Bobby.
     "I've never heard such blather," grumbled the little man in green.
"Stop yer jabbering and get us some water and soap."
     The boys stopped and looked down at him.  "What makes you think we're
suddenly your servants?" asked Bobby.
     "Jaysus!  It's the least you can do considering you just took a slash
on us," the man snapped.
     "Hey, I explained, I didn't know you was there," protested Bobby, his
temper rising too.
     "All right, let's forget that.  We do need to get cleaned up,"
interjected Morchella.
     "Well, I dunno about using soap," observed Brett, the logical thinker
of the four brothers.  "I don't think soap could be too good for the
plants, and if Mom found soap in there she'd blame us for sure, and if she
found out what Bobby did, he'd really be in big shit, and then we'd have to
tell them about you two, and--."
     "Begob!" exclaimed the green-clad man.  "The way you go on and on
you'd think you'd kissed the Blarney stone."
     "Blarney stone?" asked Brett.
     "Don't think Brett's ever kissed no stone."
     "That time he fell skateboarding he kissed the pavement."
     "He's kissed a warlock."
     "And Uncle James once on a dare."
     "And Brent."
     "And the occasional asshole."
     "I already mentioned Brent."
     "Very funny."
     "But never a stone."
     "Whist!  Don't you eejits ever shut yer gobs?" the man in green
snapped.
     "Let's get back to getting us cleaned up," said Morchella before they
could respond to his friend's sharp rebuke.  Like most leprechauns, his
friend had little patience, which often got the two of them into trouble.
     "We could take them to the tub instead," suggested Brent.
     "They're so small," observed Bobby.  "Suppose they got washed down the
drain!"
     "Lift us out of here and put us on the carpet," directed the man in
green.  "Having a shower in a real tub is a lot better than a cat's lick in
this glass cage."
     The boys looked at each other, and then at the two little men.
     "Go ahead Bobby," said Brett.
     "Why me?"
     "Well I think that's obvious."
     "Fuck, just cuz a guy hadda take a leak!  It's just a little pee!"
     Bobby reached in and gingerly picked up first one and then the other
by the collar and put them on the floor.  The little man in green waved his
arms and with a puff of sparkling dust, the two men grew in size until they
were two feet tall.
     "Cool!" observed Benny.  "How'd you do that?"
     "A wee bit of leprechaun magic."
     "Couldn't you have used a wee bit more and made yourself a bit
bigger?"
     "A leprechaun can make himself invisible, or smaller, but he can't
make himself any bigger than he normally is," the little man replied, a
hint of impatience and annoyance in his voice.
     "Oh.  So this is your normal size."
     "Mine, yes."
     "Hey, that's cool."
     "We going to stand here blathering or you going to show us to this
tub?"
     "Bathroom's this way."
     The two little men followed the boys, toddling like little children.
     "Well, you can leave us alone now.  We're quite capable of showering
on our own."
     "Uhuh, this is our house.  We aren't leaving you out of our sight."
     "And just where do you think we might go?"
     "I dunno," Brent said with a shrug.  "I just remember reading you
ain't supposed to leave a leprechaun out of your sight or he'll disappear."
     "Well, if you think you're going to watch me strip down to my baz, you
can pog mo thon!"
     "Down to your what?" asked Bobby.
     "Baz, pubickers, you know . . .  curly hair."
     "Oh yeah," Bobby said with a grin.
     "And what was that about pogging your what?"
     "Pog mo thon."
     The boys looked at him blankly.
     "Kiss my arse."
     "Pog mo thon," the four boys repeated, committing the phrase to
memory.
  They could hardly wait to tell a few guys that on Monday.
     "What does it matter, Sean?" observed Morchella as he eased off his
shoes, "We have to get cleaned up.  We are manky after being in that box
these past ten days, and now spattered with this young'un's pee."
     "You mean you guys got shipped from Ireland in that terrarium?"
     "No, we bought seats in an airliner and flew here first class so we
could sneak into yer house and live in the terrarium in yer living room,"
replied Sean sarcastically as he unbuttoned his shirt.
     "He's a real smart ass ain't he," observed Brett.
     "Yeah.  Think we need to teach him a thing or two," observed his twin
brother.
     "Maybe we should start by having him pog mo thon," suggested Benny.
     "Now boys, I'd be careful what you'd be doing," the leprechaun warned.
     "I think he needs spanked for being impolite," suggested Bobby,
thinking back to the fun they'd had with the boogeyman.
     "Great idea," agreed Benny and the four boys circled the little man
that came up to just over mid-thigh on the twins.
     "All right, all right," he replied, looking up at the four boys.
"I've been a little testy trapped in that glass case all this time.  I
didn't mean you no cheek."
     "So tell us what happened."
     "Well, Morchella has been my segotia ."
     "Your what?"
     "Segotia," he said, looking at the other little man.
     "Good friend," he explained.
     "Oh."
     "Anyway, we have been friends for several hundred years," continued
Sean as the two men continued to strip down.
     "Several hundred!" exclaimed Benny.  "How old are you?"
     "I'm five-hundred-and-eighty, and Morchella here is a mere youngster."
     The boys looked over at Morchella.  To them he looked like he was in
his twenties, compared to Sean who looked like he was in his sixties.
"Three-hundred-and-twenty-five," he advised, answering their unspoken
question.
     "Wow!  How long do you guys live?" asked Bobby.
     "We're from Tir no N'Og, the land of eternal youth," replied
Morchella.
  "We're immortal."
     "Way cool!"
     "Yes, it is rapid," agreed Morchella.
     "Anyway," Sean continued, "I'd come over to measure me oul segotia
Morchella for a new shoe.  That is what leprechauns do you know, we're
cobblers for the faerie folk.  Anyway, you can imagine it is very difficult
to make a shoe for someone six inches tall when you're two feet, so I
shrank self down to Morchella's size."
     "And?"
     "Well, Morchella has a very ticklish foot, and a very attractive one,
so I couldn't resist having a wee bit of fun.  Perfectly natural," Sean
snorted.
     The boys had a pretty good idea what he meant by fun, and by it being
perfectly natural, and they could not agree more.
     "Anyway, one thing lead to another, and we were in the middle of doing
things that good friends do, when this blithering eejit woman comes
trouncing into the forest and digs up the plot of shamrock right where we
be.  Well, being in our pelts, we couldn't just get up and run."
     "In your pelts?"
     "Down to our pubickers."
     The boys looked at each other with wide grins.
     "Anyway, we figured on just laying still and escaping the moment her
back was turned, but she didn't leave us out of her sight.  Before we could
do anything, she had us in this terrarium and boxed and on our way to
America.  Fortunately I'd brought a wee snack with me and a keg of poteen,
so we were able to survive the trip."
     "Then you must be way hungry," observed Bobby.
     "Yes, that we are," observed Morchella.
     "Just what are you anyway?" asked Brent.  "You're obviously not a
leprechaun."
     "No, I'm a mushroom fairy."
     "Mushroom fairy?"
     "Yes, my kind lives in mushroom groves.  We make our homes either in
tree trunks, or a hollowed out mushroom, if we can find one big enough."
     "So, what do you do?"
     "I love to read.  Books, magazines, anything that humans leave behind
in the groves or gardens.  If other faerie folk need to know something
about yer world, they usually come to us."
     "Cool."
       By this time the two little men had stripped down to their
underwear.
  Both were wearing coloured briefs, green and purple.
     "Now, you boys mind turning yer backs."
     "No way," said Brett.  "I know the minute we let you out of our sight
you can turn invisible."
     "Yeah, I read that in a book too," agreed Brent.
     "Besides, you ain't got nothing we haven't seen before," said Brett.
     "Yeah, we're all guys," said Benny, adding as in incentive after a
pause, "even though you're only two feet tall, bet you're better hung than
Bobby."
     "Big deal," responded his younger brother.  "Just because you're
three-quarters of an inch bigger."
     "Actually, it's seven-eighths now," Benny replied playfully.
     "Yanks," observed Sean.  "I've heard they're constantly thinking about
sex, even their president, and that their young 'uns are vulgar and spoiled
rotten, but I never had any idea it was this bad."
     "We're not constantly thinking about sex," objected Brett.
     "No, sometimes we think about, ah, well, sometimes . . . ," Brent
responded, glancing at his brothers for help.  "Okay, we constantly think
about sex," he concluded.
     "But we're not vulgar."
     "Well, except for Bobby."
     "Fuck you."
     "Any time, little brother, but right now we got company."
     Glancing at each other, the two little men rolled their eyes, pushed
down their underwear and stepped out of them, immediately ending the
chatter.  The brothers noticed that despite being the height and weight of
toddlers just learning to walk, the two had dicks as long and thick as the
boys' thumbs.  With a bit of difficulty, the two men climbed into the tub,
and Brent turned the shower on for them.
     "Didn't know there were such a thing as mushroom fairies," observed
Brent.
     "Oh yes, there are fairies for all things in nature, fairies of the
hedges, waterfall fairies, meadow fairies, wood fairies ."
     "Wood fairies?" the boys asked with a grin.
     "Not that type of wood," Sean said with a frown.  Never had he met
boys with such a preoccupation for things sexual.
     "Oh," the boys said with disappointment.
     "You related to tooth fairies?" Benny asked, thinking of their
encounter with Periwinkle.
     "Not directly."
     "Well, I know a bit about leprechauns," Brent said.  "Like, so now we
caught you, you gotta give us your pot of gold, right?"
     "Yeah, right, like I carried pot of gold with me when I went to go
make a shoe for Morchella, and it's sitting there in yer terrarium.  You
are a thick one."
     "Yeah, guess you wouldn'ta done that," Brent admitted as he fought
back the impulse to choke the little squirt for calling him thick.  "But if
a human catches you, you gotta give him something," he persisted.  "I know
that."
     "Ah, you're too smart for me," Sean confessed.  "You're right.  There
is a gold coin in the pocket in my cobbler's apron."
     "Which turns to ashes as soon as you're gone.  I seen that on T.V."
     Sean frowned as he looked at the boys blankly and debated what he
could get away with.  "All right, begob.  You get a wish."
     "Just one?  No way!" objected Brent.
     "That's the way it is.  If a person catches a leprechaun, and the
leprechaun can't take him to his gold, the person gets one wish."
     "But all four of us caught you."
     "So?"
     "So you got to give us four wishes."
     "I will in me wick!"
     "Huh?"
     "That's jam on yer egg."
     The boys looked at each other.
     Morchella thought for a moment.  "Jam on yer egg, means like, well,
wishful thinking," he finally said.  "And 'I will in me wick' means you
have to be joking."
     "Oh.  Okay then."
     "Okay?" Sean asked, surprised that the boy was giving up so quickly.
     "Sure.  It'd be more fun posting on the net how you and Morchella got
pissed on anyway, and we couldn't very well do that if you granted each of
us a wish.  You got family and friends who know about the net?"
     "Four wishes."
     "Cool.  What about mushroom fairies?  What they gotta do if they're
caught?"
     "Nothing."
     "Nothing?  You don't have to do nothing?"
     "That's right."
     "No gold, no wishes, nothing?"
     "Right."
     "That hardly seems fair," objected Bobby.
     "Right," agreed his three brothers.
     The brothers glanced at each other, the wheels in their minds turning.
There were things that a cute little fairy like Morchella could do for
them.  With his little pointed ears, rich auburn hair, and little turned up
nose, he was cute, and his fine transparent wings and thick little dick
reminded them of the cherubs they found in old paintings a few years back
when they'd been looking through old National Geographics for pictures of
naked guys.  Periwinkle the tooth fairy had been a lot of fun, and just the
thought of him had the dicks of the four boys stirring.  Of course it did
not take much to arouse the Brewster boys.
     "Let me help you wash your back," offered Brett as an idea came to his
mind.  "It's the least I can do if you're gonna give us four wishes."
     "And I'll do yours," offered Bobby, having the same idea.  "After all,
I did leak on you."
     As the two little men turned, Bobby and Brett soaped up their hands
and began to scrub their backs.  Benny and Brent quickly lathered up their
hands and began on the little men's ankles and calves.  The four boys knew
exactly what they were doing, and they were skilled at it.  Their fingers
skipped along the men's skin with feather-like touches, massaging and
relaxing their old cramped muscles, and at the same time tantalizingly
stimulating them.  While Bobby and Brett slowly worked down, Benny and
Brent slowly worked up.  By the time Bobby and his brother were massaging
and kneading the two sprites' tiny baby-like butts, which were surprisingly
soft and smooth considering the ages of the two men, Benny and his brother
were skipping their fingers along the sensitive inner side of the men's
thighs.
     The two men, thoroughly enjoying the sensations and thinking they were
putting one over on the four innocent children, allowed the pleasure of
their caresses to captivate their minds and wash over their loins.  As
their little dicks began to swell, they enjoyed the sensation, figuring the
four boys were too young to realize what was happening, and that they had
plenty of time to enjoy the pleasure before having to make the boys stop.
They did not figure on the expertise of their four seducers.  Soaping up
their middle fingers, Bobby and Brett slipped them up and down the men's
cracks and massaged their tiny puckered buttholes.  As the same time, Benny
and Brent soaped up their middle fingers and began to caress the cord that
extended from the men's buttholes to their nuts.
     "Ah, lad, I think you'd better stop washing my Swiss roll," observed
Sean.
     "Your what?" asked Brett, knowing full well what the little elf was
referring to and purposefully wriggling the tip of his soapy finger into
his Swiss roll.
     "My arse hole," the little elf replied, raising his voice several
octaves as he squirmed with the pleasure.
     The boys suddenly reached around in front and began to wash the men's
crotches.  Having a hot, soapy little hand stroking his nut sack and a hot,
soapy hand of a second boy tugging on his semierect dick had the inevitable
effect on Sean, and before he could draw away, the two boys were firmly
grasping and tugging on his erection.  Little Morchella found he had the
identical problem.  Much to the men's relief, the boys stopped a minute
later.  Figuring the boys didn't know what would have happened if they'd
continued, and the two sprites quickly rinsed themselves off.  Grabbing two
hand towels, the twins lifted the men out of the tub and proceeded to dry
them off, giving them a vigorous rubdown at the same time, with particular
emphasis between their legs.
     "Ah, boys, I think you'd best stop," warned Sean when it became
evident this time the boys were not stopping.
     "Stop?  No way!  We're just getting started," said Benny with a wide
grin.
     "I don't think you boys understand just what's happened here."
     "Fuck we don't," said Brent and Brett together as they dropped their
cargo pants and stepped out of them.  Their grey boxer-briefs were tented
out.  As the twins began to draw their T-shirts off over their heads, Benny
and Bobby stepped out of their jeans.  The two men could not help but
notice that the boys' white jockey briefs were also bulged out.  Slipping
off their clothes with lightening speed and chucking them aside, the four
youngsters stood there shamelessly and just as stiff and horny as the two
little men.
     Laying down on the floor on his back, Bobby had to only raise his head
a hand-span to take Sean's stiff three-inch dick in his mouth.  Dropping to
his hands and knees beside him, Brett slipped his lips over Bobby's own
three inches, which meant the fourteen-year-old's five incher was
practically in Sean's face.  All the little two-foot-tall leprechaun had to
do was bend over slightly to take the boy's knob in his mouth, which the
horny little man did not hesitate doing.  Meanwhile, a similar threesome
had been formed by the others, Morchella's three inch bone being sucked by
Benny, who was being sucked by his older brother Brent, who's five incher
was being sucked by the young mushroom faerie.
     In his five-hundred-and-eighty years, Sean had never had such an
experience.  The ten- year-old laying before him was sucking on his cock
with a hunger and skill like he'd never imagined possible, the youngster's
hot, moist mouth and roving tongue sending repeated thrills through his
little cock.  The sight of the boy's beautiful blond-haired brother sucking
on his kid brother's cock with just as much relish added to the eroticism
of the moment.  As he sucked on Brett's cock, Sean rationalized that no gay
man, leprechaun or otherwise, could have resisted slipping his mouth over
the gorgeous, pink teenage sausage jutting out stiffly from between the
boy's legs even if he was only fourteen years old.  The boy was well hung
for his age, and evidently engaging in oral sex was not something new.
     Although considerably younger and less experienced, Morchella was just
as amazed at the skill and eagerness of the two boys he was having sex
with.  The twelve-year-old, with his hazel eyes, high cheek bones, and
gelled dark brown hair was an attractive boy that would turn any boylover's
head, and he was evidently no novice when it came to sucking cock from the
way the boy was making his stiff dick throb.  Nor was the boy's
blond-haired brother new at this from the way he was attacking his younger
brothers' cock, and like Sean, the little mushroom fairy could not resist
taking the teenager's beautiful dick in his mouth.  Neither of them had
that much opportunity, nor desire, to have sex with humans, and sucking on
the hot, five-inch bone of this gorgeous teenager was a treat.
     And so the six of them joyfully sucked and were sucked, each thrilling
at the pleasure of having a hot mouth enveloping his stiff, throbbing
boner, and of having a hot, throbbing cock in his mouth.  The raw, meaty
flavour of the human dicks caused the saliva of the two sprites to flow
copiously, and the unique flavour of the little cocks of the two sprites
had the two Brewster brothers sucking and bobbing their heads as if they
were starving.  The six of them grew hotter and hotter, and as their
swollen flesh ached and grew numb, they worked their mouths more and more
furiously.  The two twins came within seconds of each other, pumping their
juicy teenage loads into the eager mouths of the two sprites.  The two
fairies eagerly swallowed the sweet offering of the fourteen-year-old boys,
delighting in the exotic flavour of teenage cum.  Their tiny mouths
fastened tightly about the five-inch fountains and the two men drank the
creamy nectar of the youths.
     Sean was the next to cum, his little three-inch bone throbbing hotly
between Bobby's lips and filling the ten-year-old's mouth with a copious
flow of fairy cum.  It was creamy and whitish, just like his older
brothers' juice, but it was as sweet as honey with a tangy, meaty base,
reminding Bobby of the honeyed ham his mother sometimes baked for special
holidays.  He eagerly swallowed the delightful offering, and hungrily
sucked on the leprechaun's cock for more as the first spasms of his own
orgasm caused him to thrust his hips forward.
     Benny similarly gasped and shuddered with the commencement of his own
violent orgasm, the twelve-year-old's three-and-three-quarter inch cock
throbbing and his nuts contracting with his dry orgasm.  He was still in
the midst of that ecstasy when Morchella's stiff cock spurted out the
fairy's unique cum.  Like the cum from Benny's twin brothers, Morchella's
was juicy and a mixture of whitish globules in a clear, viscous liquid.
Unlike any cum Benny had ever tasted, the sprite's juice was, as would be
expected, meaty and full, having the musky, dank flavour and aroma of
mushroom and dark, rich earth.
     It took the six of them a long time to recover.  Slowly, one by one,
they glanced at each other and licked their lips.  One by one, they glanced
down at their now limp and sticky organs and sighed.
     "I have to admit that was surely rare," Sean finally said with a sigh.
     "Oh, yes.  Rapid!" agreed Morchella.
     "Well, it was pretty awesome here too," said Bobby, and his three
brothers agreed.
     "You lads do know how to smug."
     "Smug?"
     Sean looked over at Morchella.  "To engage in sex with those of the
same sex," the little fairy translated.
     "Oh yeah, smugging is what we're good at," the four chorused.
     "I'm not much in the mood to wash my manky clothes," observed Sean as
he glanced over at the pile of soiled clothing.
     "It won't take much to stick them in the washing machine," replied
Brett, although he was not too keen on doing it himself.
     "It will take a lot of hot water and soap to get the smell of urine
out of them," Morchella observed.
     Bobby was about to apologize again when Brett interrupted him.
     "I got an idea," his older brother said, as he quickly got to his
feet.
  He hurried out of the room, and in a minute was back with the warlock
spell book they'd gotten from the warlock last Halloween.
     "Hey, thought you was gonna destroy that."
     "I was," Brett replied.  "I tried.  I tried to rip the pages out, but
they won't rip.  Threw it in the fireplace, but the pages won't burn.  Must
have a protection spell on it.  Even stuck it in a plastic bag with a pair
of Brent's old socks."
     "Fuck, if that didn't destroy it nothing will."
     "My feet aren't that bad," Brent objected.
     "Oh yeah, then why of all of us you're the only who always has holes
in his socks?  It's cuz the smell eats right through the cloth."
     "It's because I'm growing.  I can't help it I'm a growing boy."
     "Too bad it's your feet that's growing and not your dick."
     "Up yours."
     "Want it now?"
     "Lads."
     "You'd drop your pants anywhere for a screw."
     "Can't help it if I got such a cute butt that guys want to fuck it."
     "Lads!  Remember us!"
     "Oh yeah."
     "So, what's with the spell book?"
     "We'll just find a spell for cleaning clothes in here, and abra
kadabra and your clothes are as clean as new," Brett said.
     While he searched the book for the spell, his brothers explained to
the two sprites how it was that they'd come into possession of the book.
Finally finding the incantation, Brett zapped the foul clothes.  That done,
the boys and the two sprites retired to the boys' bedroom.
     "You know," observed young Bobby, "sucking you was awesome.  I didn't
think you'd cum so much, you know, having such small nuts."
     "Same here," said Benny as he glanced over at Morchella.
     The two little men looked so hot sitting there on the edge of the bed
and swinging their feet like little naked cherubs except their pubes had a
curly puff of hair, bright red and a rich auburn.
     "Well, when you are a sprite, there are things that are miraculous,"
noted Sean.  "Our kaks might be small, but they can produce a rare load."
     "And then there's having a dick that tastes like ham, and cum as sweet
as honey."
     "Or one that tastes meaty and smells like the earth after a rain,"
added Benny as he looked at Morchella.  "And has cum that tastes like
mushrooms."
     "Sounds awesome," observed the twins.
     "It was," agreed Bobby and Benny.
     "Well, you lads have mighty fine tasting langers yerselves."
     "Langers?"
     "Gooters . . .  dicks, as you call them."
     "Oh," the four boys said with wide grins.
     They glanced at each other, each thinking the same thoughts.  Brett
reached over and slipped his fingers about Sean's limp organ.  Since
Morchella was sitting next to him, Brent reached over and picked up the
mushroom fairy's little cock between his thumb and fingers and began to
fiddle with it.  He thought how a guy's dick looked like a mushroom in a
way.  Benny meanwhile sought out Brent's cock, and Bobby reached over for
Brett's.  It did not take long for the randy fairies and the hot young boys
to become erect again.
     With the sprites laying on their backs on the two bottom bunks, the
teenagers half sat and half knelt on the floor.  Leaning forward, they took
the stiff dicks of the two fairies into their mouths and began to savour
the unique flavour of fairy cock.  At the same time their two younger
brothers dropped to their hands and knees and began to lick the twins'
balls, their own genitals dangling invitingly before the eyes of the two
sprites.  As Sean slipped his lips about Bobby's stiff little organ,
Morchella slipped his lips about Benny's.  Once again the six of them began
to delight in the wonders of sucking and being sucked.  Once again the six
of them felt themselves being brought to that awesome peak, and once again
the six of them shuddered with violent and maddeningly undescribable
orgasms.  The two sprites delighted in the joy of bringing the two
prepubescent boys off, and the two prepubescent boys took just as much
delight in bringing off their brothers and drinking their thick, creamy
loads.  Needless to say the twins marvelled at the unique flavour of fairy
cum and eagerly swallowed the creamy loads.  The two teens sucked the
little sprites dry.
     "You know," said Brent some time later, "I've been thinking about
those wishes."
     "I didn't figure you'd be the type to forget," commented Sean.  "Have
you decided what it is that you'd like?"
     "Yeah," Brent replied.  "But since we caught you as a group, I think
we need to decide on the four wishes together."
     His three brothers quickly agreed to that.  One thing you could not
say, is that the Brewster brothers did not get along together.  Whether it
was their personalities, or their upbringing, or the one interest they had
in common, the four brothers were exceptionally close, looking out for each
other and genuinely caring about each other.  Unlike many brothers, there
were no fights or arguments, and their teasing was always in fun, but then
that should not have come as a surprise.  Nothing binds brothers like
having sex with each other and pursuing sex with others together.  The boys
got into a huddle.  It did not take them long to reach consensus.
     "Okay, for the first," said Brent, "we want Dad to get a humongous
raise."
     "Yer da?  Not something for yerselves?" asked Sean in surprise.  All
the humans he'd ever been in contact had been foolish, and greedy.  Had the
leprechaun known the boys' love for their father, he would not have been
amazed.
     "Well," said Brett with a smile, "if he gets a raise, that means we
get a bigger allowance."  There was that too, but the little old sprite
knew that the wish had come from the boys' hearts, and their dad's welfare
had been first in their minds.
     "Done."
     "And for Mom, we want her to become the next president of the Home and
School Association."
     "Yer ma.  You boys are rare."
     "Yeah, so we been told," the brothers replied as they grinned at each
other.
     "Runs in the family," said Brett, and the four thought back to their
Pilgrim ancestors.
     "And why might you want this for yer mother?"
     "Well, she's been talking quite a bit about maybe running for it so we
figure she wants it."
     "And if she gets it, well we got some ideas about how schools should
be run that we could suggest to her."
     "Yeah, and besides, if she's gone in the evenings, that's more chance
for us to have some fun."
     Being mischievous and playful himself, like all leprechauns, Sean
understood very well where the boys were coming from, and besides, he knew
once again it was their mother that the boys had thought of first.
     "And yer third wish?"
     "We want cousin Gordie to come for a visit."
     "Yeah.  A nice long visit."
     "I don't think I have to ask why," observed Sean.  "And yer last
wish?"
     "We got a big school basketball tournament coming up," replied Brent.
     "And we want the team Brent and I are on to win," finished Brett.
     "That's it?"
     "Yeah," the twins said with coy smiles.  "The guys on our team deserve
it."
     "Very well," agreed Sean, knowing that even though the twins were
thinking of their classmates, they had something in mind for themselves,
and most likely something both sexual and mischievous.  How could any
self-respecting leprechaun refuse such fine lads?  "You'll have yer
wishes."
     "Way cool," the boys chorused.
     "Hey, you guys hungry?" asked Benny.
     "Yes, now you mention it," observed Sean.  "I'd love a steaming plate
of coddles right now."
     "Or a serving of fish and crisps from Chippers," observed Morchella.
     "Don't think we can do either. How about pizza?" suggested Brent.
     "Yeah, mushroom and peperoni," agreed Brett
     "With extra cheese," added Benny.
     "And an extra four litre of Pepsi."
     "And while we're waiting we can begin with some appetizers," observed
Brett.
     "What you got in mind?"
     "You order the pizza and I'll be right back."
     By the time the order had been placed, the fourteen-year-old had
returned with a squeeze bottle of honey, an opened can of cream of mushroom
soup and their mother's turkey baster.
     "What kind of appetizers are those?" asked Morchella with a puzzled
look.
     In response, Brett inserted the tip of the squeeze bottle under his
foreskin and began to squeeze.  The blond-haired teenager looked up with a
sparkle in his deep blue eyes and his sensuous lips curled as his foreskin
began to bulge.
     "Oh yeah!" said Brent as he reached for the soup and baster.
     Sucking up the creamy paste, he slipped his foreskin over the tip of
the baster and squirted the contents out.  Of course both boys began to get
aroused as they flooded their dickheads.  By the time they were done, they
were semierect and their foreskins were puffed out with honey and mushroom
soup.  Their two younger brothers wasted no time filling up their skins too
until their pricks looked like they were topped by obscene little cream
puffs.
     "Now you two aren't the only ones who are going to have great tasting
knobs," observed Brett.
     "The knobs I've tasted so far have already been great," observed
Morchella as he walked over to Brett.  "But I imagine blowing yer bugle is
going to be a rare treat."
     Reaching up, the two-foot tall sprite took the fourteen-year-old's
cock in his hand, and as he stood on his toes Brett bent his knees.
Leaning forward, the horny mushroom fairy stuck out his tongue and worked
it under the boy's foreskin.  Running his hot little tongue over the
teenager's cockhead, he savoured the unique taste of raw teen cock coated
in honey and he became instantly erect.  Bobby immediately sat down before
the little fairy and slipped his lips over the sprite's stiff little cock,
eager to sample his dank, mushroom-flavoured fairy cum.  Sean had meanwhile
approached Brent, and following Morchella's lead, he'd slipped his lips
about the tip of the teenager's stuffed cockhead and wormed his tongue
under the foreskin to savour the mushroom paste and musky teen dickhead.
Benny wasted no time sitting down before the little leprechaun and taking
his rapidly growing elf cock in his mouth.  Before long the six of them
squirmed around so that they could once again complete the circle.
     Morchella licked and sucked the honey coating out from under Brett's
foreskin while Bobby sucked on the mushroom fairy's stiff little cock and
Brett sucked on the honey-coated knob of his little brother's weiner.
Laying beside the three horny cock suckers, Sean was sucking on the
mushroom-flavoured cockhead of fourteen-year-old Brent while the teenager
sucked on his younger brother's similarly flavoured little cock and Benny
eagerly sucked on the leprechaun's stiff little bone.  Normally impatient
as they waited for their pizza delivery, this time the Brewster boys
delighted in the wait and took full advantage of it.  Bringing each other
to peaks of orgasm for the third time that evening, each once again
delighted in his own orgasm and that of the boy or little sprite in his
mouth.
     With cheeks smeared with honey and cream of mushroom soup and hot teen
cum and fairy juice, the six lay back on the bedroom carpet, their chests
heaving as they caught their breath, the taste of honey and mushroom and
cock and cum on each of their lips.
     "I hope you have some of that honey left," observed Sean as he reached
over and fondled Bobby's little dick, "I'd love to stuff yer bugle for
afters."
     "Afters?"
     "For dessert after our midnight snack."
     "Oh yeah," the ten-year-old grinned, "I'd love to smug with me oul
segotia."  While one hand reached around and rubbed the little elf's Swiss
roll, the fingers of his other hand wrapped about the leprechaun's little
gooter and began to fiddle with it.  This had been one awesome Saint
Patrick's Day.

      May the sun softly caress you and your beloved in subtle warmth
 while gentle breezes murmur love ballads to your bare skin; may your eyes
	    be opened by soft kisses from lips you hunger for,
	  and your arms hold close the body of your completeness.
                              (Rand)