Lust in the Emerald Pulse: A Dublin Forbidden Flame
In the throbbing heart of Dublin’s nightlife, where the River Liffey whispered secrets to neon lights, Riley commanded the decks like a storm goddess. Her long, jet-black hair whipped under strobe flashes, sweat-glistened skin glowing under UV. At 5’10” in killer boots, her voluptuous frame—curvy hips straining leather pants, F-cup tits barely contained by a ripped fishnet top—drew hungry eyes from every corner of Pulse nightclub. This wasn’t just any spot; it was the underground queer haven, pulsing with bass that rattled bones, air thick with sweat, cheap perfume, and the sharp tang of spilled Guinness.
Riley wasn’t born to this beat. Flashback to her gritty upbringing in Cork, youngest of seven in a fisherman’s clan clinging to rosaries amid crashing waves. She knew early—before her first bleed of hormones twisted her body—that the cock between her legs hid a woman’s fire. No surgeries for her; she embraced the bulge, honing it into a weapon of desire. By 22, she’d fled to Dublin, DJing dives, building a rep as the trans temptress who fucked like a hurricane. Men chased her for the novelty, but Riley craved pussy—wet, clenching, begging cunts that worshipped her girlcock.
That electric Friday, as Dublin Pride’s after-parties bled into dawn, Nora stumbled into Pulse. Fresh from Sligo’s rainy moors, this fiery redhead painter sought escape from her dead-end canvas life. At 5’4″, freckles dusting her porcelain skin, emerald eyes sharp behind wire frames, Nora’s lithe body screamed untouched sin—pert B-cups under a paint-smeared tank, short skirt teasing toned thighs scarred from hiking moors. Single at 28, she’d fled a string of vanilla boyfriends who fumbled her clit like amateurs.
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Chapter 1: Bassline Seduction 🔥
The beat dropped like a fist to the gut. Riley’s fingers flew over vinyls, her thick girlcock twitching against tight leather as the crowd roared. Smoke machines choked the air with chemical fog, lasers slicing through bodies grinding in euphoric haze. Nora pushed through, heart pounding, Guinness buzzing her veins. She’d come alone, craving chaos after a week of empty Sligo solitude.
Their eyes locked mid-set. Riley spotted her first— that red mane flashing like devil’s fire, hips swaying innocent yet feral. She cranked the remix of an old Sinead O’Connor track, dedicating it silently to the stranger. Nora felt the pull, magnetism raw as a live wire. She elbowed to the bar, ordering a triple Jameson, the burn searing her throat like promised pain.
“First time here?” A voice purred over the thump, warm breath grazing Nora’s ear. Riley loomed, post-set glow making her olive skin shimmer, full lips curved wicked.
Nora spun, nearly choking. “Yeah. Dublin’s… louder than expected.” Her gaze dipped involuntarily to Riley’s crotch— that obscene outline straining fabric. Heat flooded her core.
Riley chuckled, low and throaty. “Name’s Riley. I spin the poison. You look like you need a real drink.” She slid a shot across, their fingers brushing—electric, Nora’s nipples hardening instantly.
“Nora. Just moved up from Sligo. This place reeks of sin.” She licked whiskey from lips, tasting salt and regret.
“Good. Sin’s my specialty.” Riley leaned in, voice husky. “Dance with me, Red. Let me feel that fire.”
Nora’s pulse thundered. She nodded, letting Riley drag her to the floor. Bodies mashed, bass vibrating through Nora’s clit like a vibrator. Riley’s hands roamed—gripping ass, grinding her bulge against Nora’s mound. Nora gasped, scent of Riley’s musk—sweat, vanilla lotion, faint ocean salt from Cork roots—invading her lungs. Lips brushed necks, teeth nipping. “Fuck, you’re soaked already,” Riley growled, palm cupping Nora’s heat through skirt.
“How—?” Nora moaned, grinding back. The friction ignited fireworks; her juices slicked thighs.
“I know hungry cunts when I smell ’em.” Riley’s tongue traced Nora’s earlobe, sucking hard. They dry-humped like animals, Nora’s walls clenching void, craving fill.
Backroom Tease
Riley pulled her into a shadowed booth, away from prying eyes. Pulse’s VIP nook stank of cum and spilled pints. She shoved Nora down, skirts hiking. “Spread those fucking legs, artist girl.”
Nora obeyed, panties yanked aside. Riley’s fingers plunged—two, then three—stretching her dripping slit. Squish-squish echoed lewdly. “Christ, this pussy’s starving. Bet no limp-dick boy’s wrecked it proper.”
“Never… oh god, harder!” Nora bucked, tits heaving, tasting her own sweat as lips met in a sloppy clash. Riley’s free hand mauled a breast, pinching nipple till it bruised. Orgasm ripped Nora—squirting mess soaking Riley’s wrist, screams muffled by tongue.
Riley licked fingers clean, flavor tangy-sweet. “Tastes like mine now. Come back tomorrow. I ain’t done ruining you.” 💋
Nora stumbled out dazed, thighs sticky, city lights blurring. Sleep evaded; dreams dripped with that bulging promise.
Chapter 2: Alleyway Ambush
Saturday night, Pulse overflowed with Pride stragglers—rainbow flags limp in humid air. Nora arrived early, heart slamming like the bass preview. She’d painted all day, strokes furious, imagining Riley’s girlcock splitting her.
Riley waited in the alley behind, fag glowing cherry-red, exhalations curling like cum ropes. “Knew you’d crawl back, slut.” She pinned Nora to graffiti-smeared brick—cold, rough grind on spine. Lips crushed, teeth clashing, blood-tang mixing spit.
“Need you,” Nora whimpered, hands fumbling Riley’s fly. Out sprang the beast—9 inches thick-veined, uncut, pre-cum beading like dew. Nora dropped, inhaling musk deep—pungent, heady, balls heavy and shaved smooth.
“Suck it, whore. Worship what real women pack.” Riley fisted red hair, skull-fucking brutal. Nora gagged, throat bulging, drool cascading chin to tits. Glug-glug-glurk—obscene symphony. Tears streamed, mascara rivers, but pussy throbbed jealous.
Riley yanked her up, spinning, skirt flipped. “Bend. Take this fat cock raw.” No condom—pure filth. Head nudged Nora’s folds, then rammed. Inch by veiny inch, invading. Nora howled, walls ripping around girth, pain-pleasure blaze.
“Fuuuuck! Splitting me!” Brick scraped nipples raw, alley reeking piss and passion. Riley pounded merciless—hips slapping ass like thunderclaps, balls smacking clit. Sweat poured; Nora tasted it licking Riley’s neck.
Flashback Fury
As Riley railed, memory hit: her own first claiming, age 18 in a Cork barn, seducing the farmer’s shy daughter amid hay-scent and moos. That girl had begged for more, just like Nora now. “Cum in me! Breed my slut hole!” Nora screamed, second orgasm gushing, milking Riley’s shaft.
Riley roared, flooding deep—hot jets painting womb, overflow dripping calves. They slumped, panting, fingers intertwined. “You’re mine now, Red. Dublin’s got nothin’ on this heat.”
Nora nodded, ruined and reborn, alley shadows hiding their pact.
Chapter 3: Hotel Inferno 💋
Third night, Riley booked a seedy Temple Bar hotel—peeling wallpaper, bed sagging like well-fucked tits, air heavy with stale smoke and bleach. Nora arrived in lingerie under coat, heels clicking marble lobby scarred by lust ghosts.
Door slammed; clothes shredded. Riley’s body—tattooed ribs telling trans triumph tales, pierced navel glinting, ass firm from gym squats—pinned Nora mattress-down. “Gonna wreck every hole tonight.”
Sixty-nine first: Nora’s face buried in Riley’s ass, tongue rimming puckered rosebud, tasting bitter-sweet. Riley devoured cunt—sucking clit like ripe berry, fingers coring gash. Moans vibrated flesh; Nora came first, flooding Riley’s maw golden nectar.
“Piss slut,” Riley growled, flipping. Lube-slicked fingers prepped Nora’s virgin ass—two, scissoring, burn flaring ecstasy. “Beg for cock up your shitter.”
“Please, stuff my dirty ass! Make it gape!” Nora clawed sheets, scent of arousal thick fog.
Riley mounted, girlcock breaching ring—slow torture stretch. Nora wailed, bowels clenching invader. Full hilt, Riley rutted savage, prostate phantom milking waves. Tits slapped faces; they kissed filthy, swapping ass-musk saliva.
Double Stuff Dream
Riley added vibe to Nora’s cunt—buzzing fury alongside anal assault. Dual penetration overload; Nora blacked edges, squirting arcs soaking sheets. “Your holes own me,” she babbled. Riley creampied ass, pulling out to watch cream pie ooze pink rose.
They collapsed, limbs tangled, whispers turning tender. “Never knew dick could feel… right,” Nora murmured, tracing Riley’s scars.
“It’s us, baby. Trans cunt-breaker and her eager fucktoy.” Laughter mingled with aftershocks.
Chapter 4: Public Reckoning 🔥
Bold now, they hit Phoenix Park at dusk—sprawling green lung stinking cut grass, distant traffic hum. Blanket spread under ancient oak, wine bottle glugging crimson lips.
Riley stripped first, girlcock rampant sunset-gold. “Fuck me here. Risk it.” Nora straddled, impaling slow—cunt devouring veiny monster, juices lubing slide. Bounce-squeak lewd amid birdsong.
Joggers passed; thrill spiked. A dog sniffed close, owner oblivious. Riley thumbed clit hood, pinching savage. “Cum loud, let ’em hear your whore song.”
Nora shattered—shriek echoing trees, body convulsing, milking seed eruption. Hot ropes basted cervix; they rolled grass-stained, laughing breathless.
Family Shadow Flash
Nora confessed then—Sligo roots, conservative clan scorning her city flight. “They’d disown me for this.” Riley shared Cork pains: brother’s beatings pre-transition, sister’s secret lipstick loans. Bond deepened, cocksure and cunt-hungry.
Night fell; they fucked again under stars—prone bone, Riley’s weight crushing divine, grunts animal raw.
Chapter 5: Club Climax
Back at Pulse, peak hour frenzy. Riley dragged Nora onstage during set break—spotlight blaze, crowd baying. Mic snatched: “This here’s my girl. Watch her take it!”
Skirt hiked, Nora bent over decks. Riley plunged doggy—public pounding, bass syncing thrusts. Crowd chanted, phones flashing. “Fuck her harder!” Phones captured glisten cock vanishing sopping folds.
Nora’s tits flopped free, nipples tweaked by fans’ grabs—consensual chaos. Smell of mass arousal choked air; cum taste lingered tongues. Riley hammered balls-deep, vibrating decks under them.
Orgy Ember
Two club sluts joined—bis grinding Nora’s face, tribbing Riley’s thigh. Multi-moans symphony; Nora drowned pussy juice, lapping folds frantic. Riley pulled out, spraying arcs—face, tits, crowd-splashing.
Collapse in cheers; they owned the night. Private booth after: slow fucks, fingers tracing love bites.
“Move in,” Riley urged, hazel eyes soft fire. “Build this filth forever.”
Chapter 6: Eternal Ember 💋🔥
Weeks blurred—Nora’s flat ditched for Riley’s riverside loft, canvases now splashed cum-stains, Dublin their playground. Mornings: lazy sixty-nines, coffee bitter after pussy sweet. Nights: Pulse reigns, then hotel romps or park romps.
One dawn, post-marathon—Riley balls-deep ass, Nora fisting cunt—they whispered vows. No church; their altar sweat-slick sheets. “Love your cock, your tits, your soul,” Nora gasped, clenching orgasm vice.
Riley flooded, groaning. “My red witch. Forever fucked.”
Years on, Pulse legends, they spun tracks of lust eternal. Dublin pulsed their rhythm—Catholic shadows yielding to queer blaze. In arms entwined, girlcock home in clenching depths, they found paradise profane.
