Man takes in Irish stepdancing show, chats up the star and gets a little stepdancing scissors for his trouble.
SCISSORING STEPDANCER
I'd gone to one of those Irish stepdancing shows, where dancers in Irish outfits do incredible dancing moves, their upper bodies amazingly straight, hands by their sides, legs flashing this way and that in a truly delightful athletic performance.
At a reception later, I spotted Colleen, the lead dancer, a spectacular physical specimen and classically Irish with flaming long red hair, freckles and a winning smile.
She was by the bar when I went to talk to her, struck by her size. She looked big on stage but here, still in her shortish kilt-like skirt, short white socks and black tap shoes, she looked huge, standing about six-feet tall and weighing what had to be a rock-solid 150 pounds if not more. Colleen had thick, really thick, meaty legs, creamy white and freckled, just gorgeous.
I chatted her up a bit on the dance, she was generous and warm as she sipped her Guinness, towering over my 5-foot-6 inch frame.
"And if you don't mind my saying so, you have fantastic legs, Colleen, I guess most dancers do, but yours are truly outstanding," I said.
She sipped her beer, smiling, looking down over it at me.
"So, ya be takin' a likin' to me legs, eh?" she said in her beautiful Irish accent. "Fancy yerself a leg man, do ya?"
"Well, yes, I guess I do," I said blushing, a 50-year-old man seemingly hitting on a 20-year-old lass. "I hope it's OK to say that."
"It's more than OK," she said, turning to put her drink on the bar. "In fact, I'll bet I can show you a few tings you didn't tink possible a woman's legs could do. You game?"
"Uh, sure, I guess," I said unsurely, not at all certain what she meant.
"Follow me, sir, if ya will," she smiled brightly, walking away toward the lobby, her massive, freckled lower legs chiseled in muscle above her little dancer's socks. "And keep ya eyes on the calves, if you'd like."
I blushed, clearly caught looking, but stared hard as she walked briskly ahead of me and into a small side room off the stage, a area I guess dancers warmed up in, the small floor covered in blue mats. We stepped in and she shut the door behind us. There was one guy there, one of the dancers.
"Paddy, leave us alone a spell, would ya hon?" Colleen asked sweetly. "Seems I have a leg fan here and I want to show him a few tings."
The guy smiled. "Right ya are, Colleen…doin' the stepdance scissors again are ya?"
They laughed at my confused look and he left, leaving us alone in the small room. She walked toward me, hands hiking up her already short skirt, her massive thighs shining white and rugged.
"ON your knees, boyo, I'll show ya sometin you might like…or not," she laughed.
"Uh, well, OK," I said, kneeling down before this red-headed goddess.
She quickly straddled my head, facing front, reached down for my ears and pulled me high in her huge thighs. I felt pure muscle against my skull as Colleen cupped my chin to pull my ears clear of her mighty thighs. She stood on slightly spread feet, the bulk of her massive thighs totally engulfing my head. My hands grabbed at them and felt the soft skin and pounding muscle beneath. And she wasn't even squeezing, just holding m there.
"OW!! Colleen, that hurts!" I squealed.
"Ah, you've seen nuttin' yet," she laughed. "Just wanted to show you my scissorin' stepdance routine, it really helps me keep the upper body straight! Just watch..and FEEL!!"
Suddenly, she launched into a rapid dancing routine, just like on stage only now with me scissored tightly in her clenching thighs. Her feet and massive lower legs flew in every direction, up and down, back and forth, in a choreographed motion I'd seen her do on stage, her muscular thighs spasming madly against my skull, the thick ropes of her adductors squeezing me. IN a mirror across the room, I saw her, hands by her side, upper body perfectly straight, her red hair flying and a white smile on her face as she danced her dance while scissoring me. The pain was intense and overwhelming. I tried to paw t her big legs, but they moved too quickly. My hands couldn't even catch her flashing calves much less pull them apart and for a full minute of agony, I was squeezed in Colleen's scissoring stepdance until she stopped, bent over and looked down into my face.
"Ya like dat, do ya, leg man?" she laughed, pushing my hair aside to look at my teary eyes.
"It hurts, dammit, it hurts!" I grimaced, finally able to latch onto her big legs and pull at them to no avail. "Your thighs…hurt!"
"Ah, tis not only me thighs, my friend," she laughed, pushing the back o my head down to her muscle bursting calves, which she slammed around the sides of my neck and head. "Tis the calves, too!"
Incredibly, she started dancing again and I was trapped. At first, she just leaped up and down, springing up from her toes, and I could feel the twin balls of knotted calf meat ripple and tear into my flesh and skull, like bubbles of steel. Then she started flashing those calves about, flipping one foot up, then the other, one of them constantly pressed against the side of my head and neck, and when she rapidly returned the other to the floor, both calves splattered against me with a meaty, smacking sound before one or the other would fly away briefly, only to slam back down on me again. She danced viciously and long, those massive calves pounding at me for a good two minutes if not longer and if I tried to pull myself free, I wasn't given enough time to do it as her slapping calves kept me constant prisoner.
By the time she stopped and let go, I was nearly out, slumping to the floor and groaning. She laughed and sat on a nearby couch, big legs crossed, her top shin flared with meaty calf muscle on both sides of the long bone of her lower leg.
"You still a big fan of stepdancin' now, me boyo?" she laughed, twirling a strand of long red hair in her fingers, teeth flashing white. "Should I get some of me other dancin' friends here to do a little line scissor stepdancin'?"
I struggled to my knees before her and she opened her legs to reel me in, my crotch against hers, those massive thighs lacing about my sides, socked ankles locked, her leather dance shoes creaking as she squeezed me and held my face close to hers.
"Ah, so this isn't a dance step, I still love it!" she hissed.
On the couch she sat, her mammoth thighs scissoring my ribs, as she let her legs fly, calves opening and closing, feet kicking, as she "danced" her scissored stepdance right there with me sandwiched in her giant gams. My breath left me over and over as Colleen's clamp pounded at my sides, bruising my ribs and squeezing the air from me before letting it back in. When she stopped, she turned me around to face away from her and then pushed me to my ass on the floor, letting her beefy thighs slamscissor shut around my ears with a resounding slap, her socked ankles twisted round each other. The pain shot through my skull instantly as she bore down; across the room in the mirror, I saw my face redden to match her hair in her thigh blasting headscissors, then turn ashen/blue.
"Nighty-night, my leggy fan!" she giggled and then bore down with such ferocity, her thighs pumped up even bigger with scissoring muscle and I passed out cold.
I came to awhile later and groggily made my way back to the bar area to get my coat. Colleen stood at the bar with two of her leggy fellow dancers, neither of whom had legs to match their leader but long and sinewy - and deadly looking - just the same.
"Ah, tis my scissor fan!" she announced, raising her glass and then acknowledging her friends. "Would ya like to perhaps take a toomble in the back room with Mary and Loureen here? I've taught 'em everyting I know!"
I couldn't get out of there fast enough, their clinking glasses and laughter torturing me on the way out.