“I seen ‘er the other day with her hands in her cacks and a fiddlin' away like there was no tomorrow.”

“She’s eighteen,” Finn moaned. “Wha’d you expect? Of course,she was a doin’ what comes naturally.”

“I’m tellin’ you. I think she’s caught a pixie inside ‘er. We’ve got to get it out before she does something terrible.” Aengus reached for his cup.

Kevin O’Donnell couldn’t believe two nuts like this were on his family tree. He had expected a relaxed week in Carrickmacross, Ireland drinking a few cups with his second cousins once removed.

Pixies? In the 21st century? Un-fucking-believeable.

“With both your accents, I‘m struggling to understand everything you're saying. You're saying that our cousin, Sheelagh, has a pixie up her feminine parts because she masturbates?” Kevin looked incredulous.

Aengus nodded. “Aye, and it’s not just me. Her Aunt Meara's having a fret, too. She said Sheelagh was wearing those tight leggin's and Meara watched her faighin a twitchin’ away like it had a mind of its own. Then Sheelagh run off to the bathroom for about ten minutes.”

Kevin looked confused.

“Her faighin?”

“Her lady bits. Don’t you use that word you come from?” Aengus decided not to call his newly found cousin a dolt. What kind of Irish men were they raising in America who did not know what a faighin was?

Kevin shook his head.

“Nope. And I think you both must have been drinking long before I showed up.”

Finn looked closely at Kevin and decided he should be told the full story of pixies and the lady bits of Irish lassies.

“Kevin, me boy, ye don’t know anything about pixies and fairies and such in America but here in Ireland we have a history with 'em. It doesn’t happen often but sometimes a young woman will be sleeping naked with her legs open or with the bottom of one foot against the knee of the other leg in a kind of figure four position. The sweet nectar of an eighteen-year-old girl is almost compelling to ‘em. If’n a pixie happens upon 'er, it’ll stop for a sip. And if she closes her legs while a pixie is tasting ‘er, she’ll trap the pixie in her faighin.“

Finn looked over at Aengus. “And if’n she don’t get it out, she’ll be in big trouble. Aengus is saying that Sheelagh must have one.”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed. He had met his second cousins only yesterday and he wasn’t sure this wasn’t some kind of prank being played on him.

“And how does one remove a fairy from a faighin?” Kevin had to stifle a laugh.

Finn held up his hand to stop Kevin.

“No, no, no. Not a fairy. A pixie. A fairy could never fit into a faighin; well, not all of one anyway. Parts could, of course. Pixies are four inches tall with short wings. They don’t wear clothes and can be a real nuisance under normal circumstances let alone if’n they get inside an Irish lassie.”

Kevin took two swigs of beer and peered at them waiting for an answer.

“Well? How does one remove a pixie from a faighin?”

Aengus looked at Finn quizzically and then back at Kevin.

“You have to pull ‘em out, of course.” Aengus thought Kevin was daft if he didn’t know this.

“Pull 'em out? What? You just reach in and grab it and pull it out?”

Finn spoke quietly so no one could overhear.

“No, lad, you can’t use your hands. The pixie has to be baited out. You need a young man to do it, too. It can be a bit unsettling if the girl is a virgin. It can be very emotional for everyone involved, especially the parents. You need something sweeter than the nectar of a young woman to draw a pixie out. You need an aroused man; the sweetest part of an aroused man, if ye know what I mean. He puts himself inside her and when the pixie begins to sip on him, he removes himself slowly from her until the pixie starts to follow him out. Then ye grab it and pull it out the rest of the way.”

Aengus corrected Finn. “He don’t have to be young but it doesn’t always work with an older man.”

“You’re so full of it, Finn. You, too, Aengus. You had me going, I’ll give you that.”

Kevin began to laugh at the joke they had just played on him.

“So, the pre-cum of a man is the only thing that can make a fairy, sorry, pixie, leave an Irish lassies' faighin. That's a good one. Got another story to tell me?”

The faces of Aengus and Finn darkened. Aengus could not hold his anger back.

“Aye, we're tellin' the truth and if’n you weren’t some snooty-nosed American, you’d see the seriousness of what we’re talkin’ about. Are you sure you’re Irish, boy? Maybe your mother and your father were English and pretended to be Irish to climb the social ladder.“

Aengus glared at Kevin.

Kevin had offended his cousins. He didn’t intend to but the story was too incredible to be believed.

“My ignorance has offended you both. I apologize. We don’t have a history with pixies and we don’t have knowledge like this. I didn’t mean to insult you. I apologize. Look I’ll pay for whiskey the rest of the night to make it up to you. Please excuse my American ignorance.”

Whiskey was the magic word for an apology in Ireland. Finn and Aengus relaxed.

“Whiskey it is, boy. Be bringin' lots of it and don’t be thinkin’ you know everythin’ when you’re in Ireland.” Aengus’ anger disappeared as rapidly as it came upon him.

“I won’t do it again.” Kevin held up three fingers horizontally to catch the attention of the server. She looked at him and he made a motion to show that he wanted three fingers of Irish whiskey for all of them.

“Tell me more about pixies in a lady’s parts while we're waiting. I promise to take it seriously but I may be skeptical while you explain it. Don’t hold that against me.”

Finn leaned in again.

“Tis a thing that happens more in the summer than in the winter. In the summer, young girls like to sleep without a sheet over ‘em. It’s almost an invitation for a pixie on a fly-by. It’ll swoop over her and pause when it smells her nectar. It’ll flutter its wings over her faighin and sometimes, you know, on her little sweet spot before it dips into her. Sometimes a pixie will go too far and the lass will feel a little something. When she does, she’ll close her legs and capture the pixie inside. That’s bad because that’s when the pixie learns where the nectar comes from. ‘Glory be and hallelujah!’ the pixie thinks. ’I’ve discovered the mother lode! Glory be!’

“It doesn’t take but a minute for the pixie to figure out that if it moves about and flutters its wings a bit, the nectar flows freely. The lassie is completely delighted about the feelin’, as ye can imagine. She believes she has gone to heaven and some would say she has."

Kevin nodded he understood. “And why is this bad?”

“Cuz of what happens if it stays there too long.” Aengus gave a look to Finn as if to say it was his turn to speak.

“If’n ye have a lassie goin’ about the town apleasurin’ herself every hour, she don’t get anythin' done except sleeping and pleasurin’. And if she learns that she doesn’t need an Irish man to pleasure her, well, we don’t even want to talk about that.“

The server placed the whiskeys in front of the three. In the most beautiful Irish accent Kevin ever heard. “Ye need to keep your voices down. Half the bar is a listenin’ to your story. Let’s keep the lassie’s reputation intact. Otherwise every eighteen-year-old man in the county’ll be lining up by her parent’s door.”

oOo

The next day there was a long line of men outside the door of the O'Malleys family home. An interview queue had been set up. Grandma first, Grandpa second, Aengus and Finn with Kevin were third, Sheelagh's parents were next, and Sheelagh herself was last.Only the best of men would make it so far to interview with Sheelagh. It was a good thing, too. Sheelagh was excusing herself often to do what needed to be done. Everyone knew why she would leave and they averted their eyes. They didn't want to add to her burden by making eye contact. But it was easy for Kevin O'Donnell to see she wasn't embarrassed at all. She was a bit tired but she often wore a whimsical smile. It implied she was enjoying the trouble she was in.Kevin smiled at her to let her know he empathized with her plight.

As the day wore on, eye rolling and facial expressions became a kind of communication between Kevin and Sheelagh. They rolled their eyes over some of the applicants and either grimaced or smiled about some of the rejections. Aengus and Finn were more direct than they were kind with young men they rejected. Sometimes they were colorful, too. Between the rejections, the interviews, and Sheelagh's absence to relieve her pixie-induced excitement, Kevin and Sheelagh's facial conversations created a rapport.

By the end of the day, only two young men had made it through to Sheelagh and she rejected them immediately. She didn't have an emotional connection with them.

That's when Sheelagh spoke with her parents and nodded towards Kevin. They in turn spoke with Aengus and Finn.

Aengus was opposed. Said Kevin didn't know anything about pixie's or faighins. He said Kevin might not even be Irish if he didn't know about the two most important things in Ireland after whiskey.

Finn chose his words carefully. "Aye, he's American and not given to Irish ways. He's also twelve years older than Sheelagh. I'll grant ye that him leavin' here in a few days is a plus and his bein' older means he won't be going about gossiping about the experience. I also think he'll respect Sheelagh's emotions, this being her first time with a man."

Sheelagh's grandfather settled the matter. He pointed out that all the men in the county had interviewed and failed. They'd have to go outside the county now and Sheelagh wasn't likely to choose someone she didn't know. He also said that when the pixie came out sipping the end of Kevin's manhood, Kevin will have no trouble believing in all the Irish ways after that.

Aengus smiled. "I'm a hopin' it's a male. That'll give him a shock if''n the pixie has the same manhood as his." The roar of laughter caused Kevin to turn in his chair.

Kevin didn't know what all the conversation was about. He'd thrown several questioning looks toward Sheelagh. She'd just smiled and eventually went into the house to relieve herself for the umpteenth time that day.

Her parents approached Kevin while she was gone. They brought whiskey to help settle the matter. Kevin was skeptical. Given the young men he'd seen today, he understood the predicament. The rapport he felt he had with Sheelagh, he said, required him to ask Sheelagh himself. No intermediaries.

Sheelagh told him it was her idea and bashfully blinked her Irish blue eyes at Kevin.

oOo

Later that night, Kevin held a lady pixie in his cupped hands. She fluttered angrily and she glowed in the dark. When she settled down, Kevin released her and she flew out the window in a huff. Sparkles fell from her flapping wings and she left a beautiful trail of pixie dust along the way.

Kevin got up to put his cock in his pants. It was time for him to leave but Sheelagh stopped him. She said the Irish folk ways had to be upheld if she was going to be respected in the morning. She said it would hurt her family if an Irish man didn't finish what he started wth her. It was kind of an insult to her and an embarrassment to her parents if'n he didn't. 

Kevin swallowed. She had that bashful Irish lassie look going on. Brilliant blue eyes, red hair, and breasts that should be carved on the prow of wooden ships. She was also eighteen and he was thirty. It would be a scandal in America if he had sex with her. But this wasn't America and he already had one lesson today about being ignorant about Irish ways.

"Irish folk ways?"

"Aye."

"Then I don't have a choice, do I?"

Sheelagh smiled, "Neither do I, cousin."

As usually happens, American’s fall in love with Irish lassies. Kevin proposed to Sheelagh within the year. The twelve year difference in age meant nothing in Ireland.

Sheelagh and Kevin had a good life in Carrickmacross. Sheet-wetting orgasms until she was sixty-three. He passed away at seventy-five and the funeral celebration was very long and very Irish.

Two celibate years after his funeral, Sheelagh set out to catch a pixie on purpose. But that's a story for another time.