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« Last post by EllenShaw on Today at 10:14:18 AM »
This is the second of two stories I’m posting about Shannon Ryan’s exploits away from the NBFC. You’ll find the first one, “My first fight by Shannon Ryan” in the wrestling stories section.
This story is set at a Christmas family gathering. I know it’s not Christmas but the inspiration came to me on January 9thand I didn’t want to wait a year before sharing it. What this story is about is me introducing a new and exciting character based on FCF member NiamhEire. I hope you enjoy it Niamh.
Niamh O’Malley was a feisty 26-year-old from County Wicklow who didn’t suffer fools gladly and would let you know in no uncertain terms if she thought you’d crossed her. She had flaming red hair and big green eyes and her figure could best be described as curvy (don’t say cuddly near her if you want to live) with a shapely backside and a beautiful pair of 36DD breasts. You could say she was a bit of a babe, albeit one with attitude.
In late 2022 she moved to Londonderry to live with her boyfriend, Jack Morgan. Jack came from farming stock, the second son of dairy farmers, but worked in Londonderry for a technology company. The pair lived together in an apartment in the city and were considering the next steps in the relationship. There was still some stigma about a catholic girl marrying a protestant boy, particularly in this part of the country, but it was generally accepted these days.
For Christmas Niamh and Jack would be heading to Jack’s family home to spend a few days with his parents and brother, Tom. This would be the first time she would meet her potentially in-laws and she was, understandably nervous. They would also be joined by Jack’s aunt, Sian, and her daughter, Shannon, who were visiting from England.
Although Jack’s father, Jack senior, ran the farm it technically belonged to his mother. Siobhan Ryan had been the eldest of three daughters and, as such, the heir to her father’s farm. She had married Jack Morgan in the early 1980s and they had lived on the farm with her parents, raising two sons, Tom and Jack, ever since. When her father passed away in 2019 the farm became hers and her husband took over the day to day running of the place.
Both Siobhan and Jack senior were traditional Ulster protestants, farming land that had been passed down through the generations. Jack warned Niamh that she might find them a bit formal at first but they’d be fine once they got to know her. If it was meant to reassure her it did the exact opposite and part of her was dreading the first meeting as they drove out of the city on Christmas Eve afternoon.
On the drive to the farm Niamh quizzed Jack about his aunt and cousin but he seemed reluctant to talk about them. All he would say is:
“They live in England. On a farm in the Pennine hills. They’re a bit...different.”
How different and in what way Jack wouldn’t say but Niamh would find out soon enough. By pure coincidence they arrived at the farm just as Sian and Shannon were getting out of their taxi. Siobhan came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, before welcoming her guests.
She welcomed her sister and niece with those hugs and kisses that people reserve for guests they’re obliged to hug and kiss on arrival but would prefer not to. The body language wasn’t lost on Niamh, who also noted that cousin Shannon was an attractive brunette, with a slim, shapely figure. Her mother wasn’t bad looking either, certainly more attractive than her sister.
Siobhan’s welcome hug for Jack was far more genuine, proof that she was a doting mother, even if her son was pushing 30. Finally, the older woman’s steely gaze focussed on Niamh herself. No hug was offered but a hand was extended:
“And you must be Niamh, welcome to our humble home. Let me show you to your rooms. Now Jack and Niamh, I don’t care what you two get up to in the city but I want to make it clear that there will be no unmarried couples sleeping together under my roof. Jack, you’re sharing with your brother. Niamh, you’ll be sharing with Shannon. Sian, you’re in the box room.”
“Just like old times.” Said Sian with a chuckle. Her light hearted attempt to diffuse the tension was completely lost on her austere elder sister as she led them upstairs and pointed Niamh and Shannon to their room.
Niamh’s face said it all. Shocked, disappointed and slightly scared. She had been looking forward to cuddling up with Jack in unfamiliar surroundings. Now it looked like she’d be having a girlie night with her boyfriend’s cousin. Niamh wasn’t the girlie type and sincerely hoped Shannon wasn’t either. Talk to her too long about hair and makeup and she’d tell you to fuck off. She just prayed Shannon wouldn’t driver her nuts.
“There you go girls,” said Siobhan, ushering them into a decent sized bedroom with a wardrobe, dresser, a full-length mirror and two single beds. “The bathroom is across the hall, I expect you’d both like to freshen up. Dinner will be at 6pm”.
Left on their own the two women exchanged pleasantries, agreed on who would have which bed and unpacked. Niamh was pleased to discover that Shannon wasn’t the chatty type, in fact she seemed quite shy and subdued for a woman of her age. (Niamh hadn’t asked but put her at about 5-6 years older than herself.)
Niamh told Shannon a bit about herself and established that the brunette lived with her mother on a farm (these days more of a small holding, she said) in the Pennine Hills east of Manchester. She worked as a ranger for the National Parks Authority and, with her mother, ran the farm as a guest house for hikers and an events venue hosting wedding receptions and parties.
“I’m going to take a shower,” announced Shannon, “it’s been a long journey and I want to be fresh for aunt Siobhan and the boys.”
“Me too.” Replied Niamh.
“Do you mind if I go first?”
“Not at all.”
Shannon stripped off, wrapped herself in the towel Siobhan had left for her and headed across the hall to the bathroom. As she watched her go, Niamh remember the words “aunt Siobhan and the boys” and suddenly wondered if the brunette also had designs on her boyfriend?
She put the thought out her mind, finished unpacking, stripped off, neatly laying her clothes, including a lacey red bra and thong set and a red Santa hat she’d bought with her to get her in a festive mood, on the bed and wrapped a towel around herself.
A few minutes later Shannon reappeared with a cheery cry of “Bathroom’s free” and it was Niamh’s turn to cross the hall and enjoy a refreshing shower.
Ablutions over, Niamh wrapped a towel around herself and made her way back to the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and she could hear Shannon, singing softly to herself, inside. She gently pushed open the door, stepped into the room and stopped dead in shock. Standing in the middle of the room, admiring herself in the mirror, was Shannon wearing nothing but Niamh’s Santa hat and her lacey red thong.
“Oh, hi Niamh,” said Shannon, surprised, “I hope you don’t mind me…”
“You fucking cow!” screamed Niamh, dropping the towel launching herself at the brunette. “What the fuck are you doing wearing my fucking knickers.”
“I didn’t realise you wore them for fucking.” Said Shannon as Niamh clattered into her, knocking her back against the wardrobe. As she spoke Shannon drove a knee between the redhead’s legs.
Niamh groaned but then slapped Shannon’s face and punched her in the belly. The brunette doubled up as Niamh stepped back and retorted:
“Whether I fuck in them or not is none of your business, I don’t want your smelly arse in my pants.”
Shannon swung a right hook that connected with Niamh’s jaw and sent her staggering into the dresser.
“My arse isn’t smelly, I just washed it, remember? Although I admit my pussy might have been a bit wet, I get off on wearing other girls’ knickers.”
That earner her another slap as the redhead steadied herself and attacked again, grabbing the brunette and wrestling her down onto her bed.
“Bitch! I suppose you’d like to try my bra on as well?”
“No thanks, there’s no way I’d fit into that melon basket – how big are your tits?”
“Big enough to smother you with, you flat chested cxnt!”
For the next few minutes, they fought like tigers for domination. Niamh on top, gripping Shannon’s wrists, pressing her body down on the smaller woman and pushing her big breasts into her face, trying to force her to submit. Shannon bucking, thrusting and twisting her hips, trying with all her might to topple the auburn-haired beauty off her.
Eventually Shannon succeeded, tipping them sideways so that they fell to the floor between the two beds. Now it was Shannon on top straddling Niamh’s belly with redhead lying on her back on the carpet. Shannon buried her hands in Niamh’s hair and began banging her head on the floor.
Niamh reached up and grabbed hold of Shannon’s breasts. Squeezing them until the brunette stopped banging her head. Shannon screamed. Her hands went from Niamh’s auburn tresses to her wrists, frantically trying to remove the younger woman’s claws from her tits.
If anyone heard the commotion, they chose to ignore it. Niamh later reasoned that Siobhan was probably catching up with her sister over a cup of tea at the other end of the house while Jack was out in the barn helping is father and brother with the milking.
Unable to prise Niamh’s hands from her tits, Shannon bounced her bum repeatedly on the redhead’s belly, driving the wind out of her until she released her grip. Shannon came to a crouch and stepped back; her breasts reddening and her body poised for action. Niamh shook her head to clear the cobwebs and pulled herself into a sitting position between the beds. She stated at Shannon for a moment, placed a hand on each bed and pushed herself up to standing, her eyes never leaving the brunette, crouched at the other end of the bed.
Shannon launched herself at the redhead, intent on slamming her back against the wall, but Niamh had anticipated the move and, although she had nowhere to go, she was prepared. As the brunette lunged forward, she raised her right knee slightly.
Shannon slammed into Niamh, shoving her back against the wall and cracking the back of her head. At the same time Niamh’s knee came up and impacted with Shannon’s pubic bone. Shannon gasped and staggered backwards. Niamh charged forward, clattering the brunette back into the door, driving a fist into her belly for good measure.
As Shannon folded forward Niamh stepped to one side, grabbed her arm and spun her face first into the wardrobe. Shannon staggered back, dazed from the impact but, mercifully, unbloodied. Niamh caught her, lifted her in the air and slammed her down on a bed before jumping on top of her.
Niamh pushed the brunette back on the bed, straddled her and pressed her big boobs into Shannon’s face. Shannon slapped frantically at Niamh’s shoulders as she felt her air supply being cut off. The redhead pushed herself up slightly. Shannon voice sounded faintly, muffled by the 36DDs in her face. Niamh pushed up a bit more:
“What did you say, bitch.”
“I’m sorry Niamh,” sobbed Shannon, “please let me up. I promise I’ll wash your pants for you.”
“You damned well better,” replied Niamh, “Now get them off.”
She sat back on her haunches, straddling the brunette’s legs, as a tearful and dishevelled Shannon frantically shimmied the thong down her thighs. She lifted her bum and rocked forward onto her hands and knees, dangling her tits in Shannon’s face, as the brunette kicked the offending garment to the floor. Sweat dripped from her nipples onto Shannon’s cheeks, mingling with her own tears.
“Thanks to you I’m going to need another shower. But first I think we both need a rest.”
With that she rolled off the brunette and laid down next to her.
“You know, Shannon, you’re not a bad fighter.”
“You’re no slouch yourself.” The brunette replied.
“What would you know about it?”
“More than you can imagine.”
For a moment they lay next to each other, chests heaving and soaked in the sweat of battle and then Niamh asked the question that had been burning in her mind since she arrived at the farm.
“Shannon, why do I feel like I’ve gone back half a century in time? Why do I feel like I’m not wanted here?”
“Aunt Siobhan is rather old school I’m afraid. She grew up during the troubles and she’s spent her whole life on this farm, living in the shadow of her parents.”
“And what about you and your mum?”
“We’re a lot more liberally minded, me in particular. Mum left Ireland in the early 80s and I’ve never lived here. It’s only in the last few years, since my grandparents died, that we’ve started coming back. I grew up English, without the influences of the past. Whatever aunt Siobhan thinks, I really like you, and your knickers.”
As she spoke Shannon lifted her right hand and placed it gently on Niamh’s left breast. The redhead didn’t protest. For a moment more they lay silent and then Shannon spoke:
“Niamh,” She said as she slowly walked her fingers off Niamh’s breast and down the redhead’s belly to her pubic thatch, “I’m a lesbian and so is my mum.”
“What the fuck! Where did you come from? Are you an immaculate fucking conception?”
“No silly, mum had a one-night stand once and I was the result.”
With that her fingers found what they were looking for and slipped into a warm, wet, inviting snatch.
Niamh gasped but, before she could cry out, Shannon kissed her full on the lips.
When she could breathe again Niamh gently pulled Shannon’s fingers out of her pussy and rolled back on top of her. This time breast to breast and pussy to pussy. She looked the brunette in the eye and said:
“So, what about your dad?”
“I never knew him. The person I think of as dad is a woman.”
“What!”
“The night I was born there was a blizzard. Mum was at our farm in the hills. She went into labour but the ambulance couldn’t get through. I was delivered by a 21-year-old girl who had walked into mum’s farm three months earlier looking to stay one night and never left. Mum said Terri was a lost angel who found her true home and purpose with us. I owe Terri my very existence and I love her so much.”
Shannon started sobbing uncontrollably, Niamh rolled off her and hugged her close, mumbling soothing words until the older woman sniffed back her tears.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t know what came over me.”
“I do,” replied Niamh, “love.”
With that she kissed Shannon and her hands began to explore the brunette’s body. Shannon responded in kind. Fingers caressed breasts and found their way into wet, inviting pussies. Nipples were licked and ears nibbled. After a few moments both women climaxed and lay, exhausted again, in post-coital bliss.
“Shannon?”
“Yes, Niamh.”
“That was my first time with a woman.”
“I hope you enjoyed it, I’d like to think it’s not our last.”
They lapsed into silence again for a while until Shannon spoke again:
“I should warn you, Niamh, Aunt Siobhan doesn’t like you very much.”
“I got that impression, but why not?”
“Old habits die hard, I guess. You’re a catholic, you’re a southerner and you’re sleeping with her son when you’re not married to him.”
“Fuck’s sake! What would she make of us if she walked in now?”
“Niamh! Don’t tempt fate. Aunt Siobhan doesn’t even know mum’s gay, let alone her only niece.”
“Okay, but can we do it again?”
“Yes, but not now. Later, after everyone’s gone to bed. Right now, let’s get a shower before they start looking for us.”
With that Shannon grabbed her towel and flounced out the room and across the corridor to the bathroom. Naimh lay back on the bed, the sense of a warm glowing filling her body. Whatever the weekend threw at her she knew she now had a friend to turn to.
Over the next few days Naimh and Shannon became firm friends and, while they didn’t fight again, they did enjoy some clandestine exploration of each other’s bodies.
On Tuesday morning they lay together in one of the single beds enjoying a final cuddle. Niamh and Jack would be returning to the city in a few hours as they both had work the next day. Shannon and her mother would be heading to Armagh to visit her other aunt before flying back to Manchester. For Niamh it was time to ask the question that had been bothering her since they had arrived at the farm.
“Shannon, when Jack said you and your mum were ‘different’ is this what he meant? Just that you were gay? Or is there more to it than that? Jack’s a fairly broadminded guy, why didn’t he just say you were gay?”
“Maybe. Maybe it was just that we’re more English than Irish. But he’s right, we are different, in ways that he wouldn’t dream of.”
“Ooh, pray tell, what makes you different? It’s not your body, is it? I mean that’s perfect but it’s not different, is it?”
“It’s more what I do with it…”
“Are you lap dancer or something?”
“No! Don’t be silly!”
“What then?”
“Niamh – the other day you said I wasn’t a bad fighter. Do you fight a lot?”
“Well, I’ve had a fair few fights in my time. I’m hot tempered, I guess. I tend to lose my rag a lot.”
“I know, you got pretty mad about me trying on your knickers.”
“Well, wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know, no one’s ever tried my knickers on. Apart from mum obviously, and Terri, oh, and Carole and Helen, and Paige, and Jade, and Katie, and…”
“Uncle Tom Cobbly and all?” For fuck’s sake Shannon, do you share your underwear with everyone?”
“No, only the women I fight with.”
“WHAT!!!!”
“Niamh, have you ever fought for pleasure? Just for the hell of it? To show you’re a better woman? Against someone who asked you or challenged you?”
“A few times when I was younger. School friends when we were teenagers, a couple of girls at college, that sort of thing – where is this going Shannon?”
“Mum and I fight other women. Naked. In a barn at our farm. Mum’s been doing it for years. Ever since I can remember. Not always at the barn, other places as well. I’ve been fighting other women regularly since I was 18 – mum wouldn’t let me fight before that.”
“But she let you watch her fight?”
“Yes, ever since I was kid, we used to go to this place down in Gorton. There was a room where we took our clothes off and another with a ring where the ladies used to fight. The place closed down so now we hold the fights at the farm.”
“Sorry, let me get this straight. You and your mum are gay, you fight other women, naked and for fun, in a barn on your mum’s farm. Are all the other women gay?”
“No, some are gay but most are bi-sexual – like you, my darling.”
“I’m not bi-sexual!”
“No? So why have you got your fingers in my snatch? No, don’t stop. You’re rubbing me just the right way.”
They lapsed into silence, punctuated by moans and groans, as their fingers worked their magic on each other’s most sensitive parts. They climaxed simultaneously and lay on the bed slowly coming down from that natural high. Eventually Shannon spoke:
“Niamh? Have you ever fought in a ring?”
Niamh murmured her reply: “No, never.”
“Would you like to? Would you like to come to our farm and fight in our barn?”
Niamh kissed her full on the lips and replied:
“Shannon, I thought you’d never ask.”
To be continued…
If you enjoyed this story check out my other stories about Shannon, her mum, myself and many others. You’ll find them all over the stories section of FCF (I think there are around 100 now).
Please remember to like my stories if you enjoy them – it makes me feel wanted.
Love,
Ellen xxx
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