Erotic fiction gets the Irish treatment

this was in yesterdays Irish Metro.

“give it to me now”, he roared, some days Mary hated working at Ulster Bank.

He slipped his hand under the red silk, “your so beautiful in that dress”, “feck off” she replied, “it was only a euro in pennys”.

Brid’s knees where swore and her throat was sore, it was the longest Novena she’d ever attened.

“You’re so tight” he said, “I’m from Cavan” she replied.

She quivered while I stroked her thighs, “take me to the shower Sean”, He whispered “wait till I turn the immersion on”.

Her underwear was wet when he pulled the rope, There’s great drying out today she thought as the cloths line hoisted.

“its so long, I’ve never seen the likes of it”, exclaimed Marie when she joined the dole queue.

She widened her mouth to fit it all in, the juices where running down her cheek, Mary did love a kabab after Coppers (copper face jacks – night club in Dublin)

She let out a final scream of pure pleasure, there was nothing better than beating Kilkenny in the hurling.

He asked if she could handle more than one finger, she said she’s prefer Hobnobs or a purple snack with her tea.

And my favourite:

Slowly he ran his finger down the middle, parting the pink softness, feeling the moist sticky centre. He loved a Milkado.