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Kiss me, I'm Irish!


LadyBarbossa

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Now den' John m'lad, looks like you are furst in line!  Silkie scans the crowd looking for any lass who may object.  Seeing none she takes a sip of the liquor, wrapping one arm around his waist and one around his shoulder she pulls herself close to Shipwreck John.  Sensing no resistance she softly presses her lips to his leaving the sweet taste of the liquor linger as she withdraws from him.  What a pleasin way to start d'day!

Your'e a fine kisser to be sure. May I have another?

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Shipwreck

Adventurer of Independent Means

TALL SAILS AND MERMAIDS TAILS, THIS BE THE LIFE FOR ME

"THEM THAT DIE WILL BE THE LUCKY ONES"

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Boots! Twas wonderin when ya woould bae showin yer handsome face round ere! Now ...how best to precede wit you?

Silkie takes a sip of the cream liquor again leaving the sweetness remain on her lips. She looks at the lad, cocks her head and raises an eyebrow as she begins to circle. Laying her hand on his biceps she leaves it linger there as she continues around him forcing her to close in on his opposite shoulder. Standing close the warmth of her breath reaches the flesh on his neck as she speaks softly.

Hmmmm, y'was d'one wot mentioned acceptin a kiss when first I planted one on yer cheek after introducin yerself wern't ya?

He turns his face towards her and smiles. The corners of her mouth curl up a bit more as she continues her revolution around the lad, her hand trailing across his shoulders and down his arm as she moves on. Once in front of the lad again she takes his hands and pulls herself into him guiding his hands to rest upon her hips as she brings hers to rest on his chest just below his colar bones. Rising to her toes her hands wrap around his neck and she kisses him with perhaps a little more zeal than is appropriate.

Wuz det wot ya ad in mind?

She smiles with satisfaction as he licks the sweet cream liquor from his lips.

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Oi thought you were a Swede? :lol:

Aye Sterling..I am..but t'day I adopted a bit o the sod...

Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help....

Her reputation was her livelihood.

I'm a pirate, love. By nature and by choice!

My inner voice sometimes has an accent!

My wont? A delicious rip in time...

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Aww JAcky sure I could use a bit o sod.. :huh:

Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help....

Her reputation was her livelihood.

I'm a pirate, love. By nature and by choice!

My inner voice sometimes has an accent!

My wont? A delicious rip in time...

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rats! I can't even pretend to be Irish. Kept trying to drink enough to become one but it hasn't worked so far :huh:

so who's going to volunteer to be my Irish half for the rest of the holiday?

"If part of the goods be plundered by a pirate the proprietor or shipmaster is not entitled to any contribution." An introduction to merchandize, Robert Hamilton, 1777

Slightly Obsessed, an 18th Century reenacting blog

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Suddenly a commotion is heard outside

"Take that you lousey drunk!!"

Then crashing through the window and landing at the young lady's feet....

"Someone called for an common Irisher!"

Then standing and shaking the small pieces of glass from his person.

"Rats.... er... Jacob Reiley at yer service!"

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No rest for the wicked! Wait a minute... that's me?!

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:huh: can always count on you eh Rats? *brushes bits of glass off his shoulder and offers the man a Guinness.*

Donno Silkie, my preference for vodka may tip off the non-Irish thing, but I'll try to at least pretend. Anything for a reason to drink all night.

"If part of the goods be plundered by a pirate the proprietor or shipmaster is not entitled to any contribution." An introduction to merchandize, Robert Hamilton, 1777

Slightly Obsessed, an 18th Century reenacting blog

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Aye lads an lasses, happy st. pat's a wee bit late

love and peace to all Irish or nae

:rolleyes:B):lol:

Mud Slinging Pyromanic , Errrrrr Ship's Potter at ye service

Vagabond's Rogue Potter Wench

First Mate of the Fairge Iolaire

Me weapons o choice be lots o mud, sharp pointy sticks, an string

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Whoa. Deja vu...

Oh Tommy m'lad! Tis glad I am t'see ya did nil shy away doh ya knew wot wuz commin!

Silkie throws her arms aroung Tom, hugging him like a long lost friend. Then before she releases him she gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

Twas det acceptable lad? Tis nil going to cause any problems with the wench at home a'tall.

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Hmmmm, Jacky ...well den. Wot sort o'approach shoould I take wit you lad? A bit o'a romantic, a bit o'a clown, n'a flirt at times.

Silkie stands lookin at the lad in contemplation for just a moment. She sips the Irish cream again and comes up behind where Jacky sits. Placing her hands on his shoulders she massages his shoulders and neck easing the knots left there from spending so many night time hours at the computer. Once he is completely relaxed and the knots gone she leans in and whispers into his ear. Lemon-maid? A smile parts his lips as he turns his head toward the lass, she pops a lemon wedge into his mouth and trys to step away before he can catch her.

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