The Kingdom of Irish Sex
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THE PREPARTION
Friday night is very much love night for the Irish man. Arriving back
from the pub, having partaken of the traditional Irish aphrodisiac -
12 pints of Guinness and some fish and chips - his mind set on one
thing...
Love!
Or as he says himself, "a ride."
His lust at fever pitch after the sensuous excitement of a hard
night's dominoes, he approaches his beloved wife, enticing her with
gentle words of passion
"Any chance of a ride then love?"
The good lady in question perhaps over excited by the erotic smell of
stale Guinness or the sensuous vision of chips sticking to his chin,
is at first somewhat reluctant. This coy reluctance is expressed with
the flirtatious reply
"Would ye ever feck off!!!"
FOREPLAY
Foreplay is very important indeed.
This basically consists of the male casting off his slightly soiled Y-
fronts provocatively at his wife, usually land skid mark side down, as
he approaches the bed singing the ancient Gaelic fertility chant
"Here we go, here we go, here we go."
Upon reaching the bed he comments proudly on his rampant 8 incher.
This is a classic example of alcohol induced double vision.
INITIAL PROBLEMS
After 12 pints, sometimes the man's ould willie winkie is a trifle
reluctant to extend itself (literally). Impotence is very much a blow
to the man's self esteem and the wife has to be very tactful. She will
offer gentle and sensitive words of encouragement such as
"Ye useless bastard, ye" or possibly
"It never happens to the milkman."
Oral sex is a great favourite of the Irish man. He approaches his wife
with a cheeky invitation,
"How'd ye like to put your teeth round dis?"
The woman nods willingly and points suggestively to her falsies
smiling happily in a bedside tumbler.
"Go on then," she says, "but don't disturb me."
DOWN TO BUSINESS
Eventually the moment comes to consummate their tender love. Again
alcohol induced double vision is an important factor as the man
decides which of his willies to use for penetration. Sometimes in
his excitement as he moves into his position he may suffer from
severe premature ejaculation. A phenomenon he explains to his wife
using the poetic phrase
"Ah feck, I've shot me load."
If this does occour it is essential he makes up for disappointing his
wife by uttering tender and loving compliments such as, perhaps,
informing her she's the nicest woman he's ever come across.
An imaginative lover, the Irishman, possibly having read the woman
likes to be spoken dirty to, says such things as "shite, arsehole."
The woman is speechless. The man is now thrusting away, his mind a
kaleidoscope of jumbled erotic thoughts. The woman wonders if they
should repaint the ceiling. Sometimes she utters a word or two of
encouragement such as
"Are you sure it's in?"
Given his level of sexual expertise the Irishman's ideal partner
should be a versatile lover specialising in the faked orgasm. This
takes form of a breathless shout
"Ooyah, ooyah, big boy!"
Eventually its all over. The man roles over, falls asleep, and
commences snoring like a pig. There's no one in the world performs
quite like the Irishman - a veritable prince in the kingdom of sex.
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