St. Patrick´s Day

The leprechaun shook himself when the meeting was finally over and Santa had given his closing speech, which differed only minimally from those of the last centuries. He spat. He hated that old, senile fat man with the red robes and the white ruffled beard. Actually, the Leprechaun hated all other personifications of the holidays, with the possible exception of the insane Easter Bunny. This floppy-eared pervert with his egg fetish had somehow won a place in the Leprechaun's heart.

This thought caused another powerful shuddering fit. A leprechaun's heart belonged exclusively to his gold and pleasures, not to a rival. But "pleasures" was a good keyword. The coming St. Patrick's Day would be the highlight of the past century. For years the small, red-haired, overweight, green-wearing fella had been feverishly anticipating this one day. He had chosen his target very carefully. Traditionally, it had to be an Irish woman or at least one with Irish roots. So his choice had fallen on an actress who for a while had been regarded as the sex symbol of the new century and was certainly still a great temptation not only for the fat leprechaun. Her name was Megan Fox, the Sexiest Woman Alive 2008.

St. Patrick's Day, March 17th

00:00

Megan Fox sat in the back seat of her limousine, nearly dropping her smartphone as a massive shiver ran through her entire fucking hot body. It had started as a slight throbbing at her temples that she'd barely paid attention to, then it had spread, crawled behind her eyes like a prickle, tingled in her sensual lips for a brief moment, and then rushed down her neck, breasts, waist, and ass in a great sweep, all the way down her legs and arms.

The beauty shook herself. What the hell had she taken tonight? Or had someone slipped something into her drink to take her out? It wouldn't be a new experience for her, but it wouldn't have worked very well this time, because after the short shudder she was still conscious and able to think and move as if nothing had happened. No, it was something else. Somehow she had the stupid feeling that she had been touched, even chosen, by something supernatural. Megan shook her head at her own thoughts. She had had a long day on the film set and was surely just tired. Of course, she had no idea that a red-haired, fat leprechaun was eyeing her greedily and had made her his prize for this century.

00:23

Megan locked the front door behind her and activated the security system. Through the glass insert, she could still casually see her driver turn the limousine around and leave the premises. She slipped the tight-fitting leather jacket off her slender shoulders and hung it on the coat rack. Underneath revealed a skimpy red top that benevolently accentuated her bust and narrow waist. For a moment Megan stopped in the hallway and examined herself in the large mirror. She tilted her head. The top was really quite exceptionally tight and really showed off her breasts enormously. She was blessed by nature with a set of magnificent 32D cups, but in this top they looked almost bigger than usual. She grabbed her rack from below with both hands, then shrugged and left the hallway.

As she did so, the hot actress missed the fact that her reflection remained in its last pose for a few moments, hands on her firm breasts, even though Megan had already left the room. As the reflection slowly faded, the short, fat, green-clothed leprechaun in the mirror stepped up next to Megan's image and grabbed the reflection's ass roughly.

00:37

Megan had stepped out of the shower and was drying her long, willowy legs as she let her smartphone read out her appointments for tomorrow. Almost without exception, they were St. Patrick's Day-related situations, including a dinner with her family, who always cherished their Irish roots but on St. Patrick's Day pretended to be directly descended from the namesake saint and missionary to the Irish. The hot actress had thought long and hard about an excuse not to show up for the family celebration, but then gave up. No matter what lie she made up, her family would not believe her anyway. Too often in the past she had cancelled family commitments. Probably this year even a stay in hospital would not be enough to avoid the party.

"Maybe I would have to be kidnapped. That might convince my mother to accept my absence...", Megan suggested to herself as she left the bathroom naked - as a very benevolent God had created her - and dropped into her bed. With a natural lasciviousness that would have made a professional stripper envious, she slid her body under the paper-thin silk coverlet, under which her contours were very clearly visible. Then she turned out the light and was asleep moments later.

The leprechaun approached from the darkness of a corner and climbed onto the bed. His movements were ponderous and should have woken Megan, but he was a higher entity, the personification of a holiday cult. Even his massive excess weight and apparent clumsiness didn't matter much. Slowly he licked his lips with his tongue as he admired Megan's hot body through the silky blanket that covered everything but still hid little. The leprechaun felt his pants begin to tighten as a huge bulge swelled inside. He could barely contain himself and would have liked to **** her right now.

"You've been a good choice," he nodded, looking down at the unsuspecting sleeping actress, "I'm going to have a lot of fun with you and I wish you a naughty St. Patrick's Day."