Paddy’s Journal Week 05


I worked on the Rybakova file all morning and Aoibhe helped me. After lunch, I went into a couple of company offices and introduced myself as working for the Russian Investor. I requested a tour of the facilities and in both cases, the operations seemed to match up with the information they’d given. The third business I called on was different, the owner, a man named Bob Newberry, seemed a little cagey. The whole operation looked a bit Mickey Mouse and he didn’t seem to want me to talk to his employees.

One of the things I asked for was his client list but he said that was confidential. In the end, all I really got out of him was a whole pack of lies that he spewed out when he insisted taking me for lunch. The restaurant was quite near his office and walking over he told me how he spent a lot of time there and that the gorgeous owner always served him personally. When we walked through the door this adorable woman, who looked like she’d just stepped out of an Italian movie ran up and threw her arms around him. I was impressed.

While I was under this positive impression he began to tell me how successful he was with the opposite sex. According to him, he’d shacked up with two international celebrities and his wife, who resided in their Belgravia mansion in London was herself a past runner up in the Miss England Contest.

“She won’t live in Ireland,” he laughed, “too much fucking rain so I have to commute to London every time I want a piece of tail, well at least if I want it to be legal – if you know what I mean.”

After the women he’d known intimately came his assets, which included a yacht anchored off the French Riviera and an estate in Gloucestershire left to him by his parents. When we were leaving I managed to get a glimpse of the bill, the tip he left was about the same amount as the charges for food and drink. He seemed to be paying handsomely for his hugs and enjoying every minute of it. As we made our exit the sexy owner gave a cute little wave, “See you tomorrow Bob,” she smiled, and he just raised his hand like as if he was the Duke of Belgravia.


When I arrived back home Aoibhe was still working on some of the research we’d been doing in the morning and she’d done quite a good job. It seems as long as the money keeps coming in she can work as my assistant. If that’s what she wants.

As soon as I’d indulged in a few hugs and kisses and a crafty feel I got down to filing my reports for Mr. Rybakova. Around 6.00 we were both getting ready to go over the street for supper when the phone rang it was him. He was delighted that I’d done the job so quickly and seemed to get a kick out of the assessment on Bob Newberry.

“We don’t want to get involved with people like him,” he laughed, “too risky.” And then he asked me if I was OK to spend a couple of days in Gibralter, “I want you to look over a couple of companies, and do a really thorough job.”

I think I hesitated for a few seconds, it did take me by surprise but then I said OK and he told me that he’d email all of the details and wire the money within the hour. That would just give Aoibhe and me time to slip over the street for supper. It ‘s Fish and Chip night at the Bar on Fridays and I don’t like to miss that. Fish, Chips and Mushy Peas go perfectly with a pint of Guinness.

As soon as I told my “fiance,” about the trip she got very excited.

“OMG that’s where Molly got married,” she said, referring to someone I’d never heard of. She went on to tell me the story of a college friend who thought she was pregnant and because of her family’s strict religious beliefs wanted to get married as quickly as possible. In Ireland, it takes about three months to tie the knot but in Gibraltar, you can do it the same day.

“She was only a couple of weeks late,” she laughed, “but she panicked and flew off with her boyfriend and came back a few days later as Mrs. Whelan. The only problem has she jumped the gun and on the return trip she discovered she wasn’t pregnant after all.”

“Didn’t she do a pregnancy test?” I asked, thinking the woman had been rather stupid.

“Molly swears she did but she got a false positive, it’s rare but it happens sometimes, medications can affect the result. Anyway, she was quite happy to be married to Brian – he’s was quite a good catch.”

I was beginning to think that men are no match for women when it comes to being devious – when Aoibhe threw me into a spin.

“Why don’t I come to Gibraltar with you?” she said, “we could get married and save all the fuss and expense that couples get caught up in when families get involved.”

I was speechless and before I could answer Brenda came over and placed our plates of steaming fish, chips and peas before us. They didn’t look quite so appetizing anymore but I started to shovel them down in an attempt to thwart further questioning.

She picked away at hers with the fork and then looked at me with those big brown eyes that have broken down my resistance before.

“You don’t want to marry me do you?” she half whispered.

“We’ve only been engaged for a few days.”

“There’s nothing that says you have to be engaged any specific time before you marry,” she snapped back.

“But this is a business trip.”

“So you’re not going to have a couple of hours to spare?”

“I don’t know until I get there.”

“We can stay an extra day.”

“What will your mom and dad say.?”

“I’m sure they would like to see us legally married than living in sin.”

“What about my parents?”

“Your mother will be tickled pink, you told me yourself that’s she’s dying for grandchildren.”

“I said nothing of the kind, she thinks I’m too old to take on children.”

“Well my mother doesn’t think you’re too old and she’s been feeding you up so that you can give me healthy children, just look at your portion compared to mine.”

Like a fool, I looked down at my meal and started to laugh,

“God – how did I get mixed up with someone like you – you’ve got a fucking answer for everything.”

She sneaked her hand across the table and placed it on mine,

“But I love you,” she whispered.

Holy shit I have defeated again. I thought maybe I should go to Gibraltar on my own and fucking stay there, or maybe be South America. This woman is a fucking hazard.


At around seven this morning Aoibhe and I were climbing aboard our plane for an eight-hour journey to Gibraltar. There was a stop over in London and we landed around 3.30 on the Rock. I was not totally sold on this idea, if at all and that caused us some tension to build up on the way. In addition to the rushed marriage and all that entailed, there was some difficulty in booking the extra ticket and I had to track down Wanda to tell her I was switching the phone through to the store and that we would be away for a few days.

The hotel we booked into was one of the two businesses I was to investigate. It was a bit run down and the owner was looking for a sizable investment to renovate and modernize. The staff was polite and helpful but that didn’t compensate for the elevator being out of order and being told that the restaurant was closed due to a plumbing problem.

I am traveling incognito, posing as a regular client with the idea of finding out the proprietor’s general standing in the business community, checking out the ownership at the registry office and digging for any dirt I can find. The second business I have to look into is run by a woman who has gone from being a waitress in a bar to owning a string of luxury yachts in the space of a few years. Her rental business is supposedly going very well but like all entrepreneurs, she wants to expand and for that she needs cash.

By the time we booked into the hotel Aoibhe was running in silent mode. I really wanted to go out and get something to eat as all I’d had was plastic wrapped airline and airport food since my early morning coffee back in Dun Laoghaire. Getting her to make up her mind about going out for something was not easy. When we eventually got out into the sun baked street and found a little Italian restaurant she’d actually become even more difficult and sat at a separate table. At this point, I was wondering whether being hooked up with someone so immature was really something I wanted to do.

I certainly didn’t want to spend my evening in the room with her and so I wandered around the hotel and grounds looking things over. As there are always disgruntled staff, prepared to dish the dirt in any business, I tried to extract information from a man who tended the pool and a pretty young maid who was taking her break in a little nook tucked away from the main garden area. I also ignored the “staff only sign” and poked my nose into what was going on at the rear of the kitchen. At this point, I was politely told to remove myself by a burly security guard.

Like most places, I suppose Gibraltar has its share of gangsters trying to muscle in on each other’s territory and the hotel might just be a cover for some illegal activity. Whatever is going on there they are apparently sensitive about people poking around asking questions and this was demonstrated when I was walking back to our room. Suddenly the lights went out in the corridor and two figures emerged from a utility area.

Most of the blows they delivered were to the ribs but I did sustain one to the nose that caused it to bleed profusely. I ended up on the floor, and took one kick to the head before they told me to check out and left the scene. When the lights came on I staggered to the room and presented my shattered body to my bride to be. She was incredibly upset and after cleaning me up insisted that we went to the hospital.

It was not easy trying to carry cases with badly bruised ribs but we managed to negotiate the stairs and made our way past the welcome sign to a waiting taxi. We spent an hour or so in the emergency department at the hospital and with my chest bound in bandages set off to find another hotel. As Mr. Rybakov was paying I went five star and relaxed for what was left of the night, pampered unmercifully by Aoibhe, who kept apologizing for her behavior earlier.


Still feeling like shit I got up this morning, took a few painful deep breaths of sea air on the balcony and then gave my boss a ring and explained the situation. He was sympathetic but still hoped I could get back to work today.

I decided to stay around the hotel room for the morning while Aoibhe went to the registry office with all our documents and came back all excited as our nuptials were scheduled for Friday at 11 a.m. Feeling apprehensive about the forthcoming event and still sore from the beating, it was not the best day of my life, even though she seemed to be over the Moon.

After a light lunch, I managed to make an appointment with Ms. Cowan the yacht owner on the pretense that I was thinking of hiring a boat for my honeymoon. She turned out to be an attractive 40 something with a great smile and a charming personality. I asked a lot of questions, got really good answers and had a look around one of the boats.

“I’m sorry we don’t have anything available for a couple of months,” she said, “I want to buy four more vessels but I’m waiting for some additional capital.”

I said I’d be in touch, picked up a brochure and spent the rest of the day pumping information from some of her competitors, who didn’t have a bad word to say about her and it all looked very much above board. However, I continued to probe but came up with nothing in her business or personal life that would have made her a risk. In the evening I typed up my report to Rybakova and told him I was staying on for a couple of days at my expense. When I mentioned that I was getting married he wouldn’t hear of me paying and send I could look on it as a wedding gift.


My ribs are healing, thanks to the hot tub in our room, and this morning while soaking and drinking my coffee Aoibhe decided to join me. She actually sat on the side of the tub and didn’t object when I slipped a finger into her crease and move it in and out. I would have loved to have done the same thing with my dick but couldn’t reach it. Wanting to feel it inside her as much as I did, she slipped into the water, turned her bum toward me and eased herself into a perfect position for penetration.

With the hot water swirling around my balls and my cock buried deep inside of her it felt amazing. I reached my arms either side of her head and gripped onto the trim that surrounded the tub, then I started to slowly work it in and out. It felt so fucking good I didn’t want to cum – at least for an hour or so. However, my hormones started to take charge of the situation and suddenly I’m desperate to shoot my load, driving it into her full tilt, as the water surged around us like a mini tsunami.

When I did ooze my jizz into her warm wet crack it was both mind blowing and disappointing at the same time, It seemed as if it was all over until she turned around bobbed under the water and took my cock in her mouth, she couldn’t stay under long but it felt good. She did three sucks in total and then, even though it hurt my ribs, we hugged each other for a few minutes before climbing out of the tub.

After a light lunch in the hotel dining room, we headed for Main Street and the jewelry stores. I was once more subjected to the same procedure I’d suffered when she was choosing an engagement ring. The jeweler was more patient than I was and kept taking out one tray after another until she found something that closely matched the band on her diamond ring.

With my credit card still warm, we left that store and headed for the dress and shoe shops. When she saw the look on my face she smiled and said,

“Don’t worry I’ll pay for my dress and shoes, but you should seriously think of buying a suit, you need one for all these business meetings your having anyway.”

When I looked at myself in the full-length mirror I didn’t look like a private eye anymore, I looked like a fucking funeral director. “If only the three Mikes could see me now,” I mumbled.


I once read this story about a man in WW II who was about to face a firing squad, he said he felt as if he was going to throw up. I could now empathize with him. He was fortunate because he got a last minute reprieve. As I walked across that sunlit square towards the building that would see me tied to another human being, possibly for life, I looked around almost hoping for a runner to come screaming towards us waving a paper and screaming “the execution is canceled.”

As we entered the hallowed hall where dozens had met a similar fate I looked at Aoibhe in her gorgeous new dress, with her hair and makeup done to perfection and I thought, “What the fuck is wrong with you Killeen? You are about to marry the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Our two witnesses were two British tourists that the bride had sweet talked into meeting us there and the man named Frank, who had tears running down his cheeks acted as our photographer, taking photos from every angle you could imagine, inside, outside and even in the restaurant where we treated the pair to lunch. After we’d eaten and consumed a couple of bottles of Veuve Clicquot Rose we returned to our hotel for a short honeymoon.

I was hoping that Aoibhe was not going to be like my first wife who fucked like a Rattlesnake until we got married and then lost interest. Well, I’m happy to say that the first official night was good. My bride had bought, unbeknown to me, a short see through nightie that was hardly worth putting on but it did make her perky tits into a work of art and I couldn’t wait to sneak my hand up the front and fondle then. It did come with a pair of matching panties which I ended up tearing off with my teeth before burying my face deep into her bush.

“I didn’t shave it because you seem to enjoy furrowing your way in,” she laughed, and she was right, I love a bit of undergrowth.


Even though our plane left early we fucked and sucked most of the night, my eyes looked like two piss holes in the snow and I think the girl at the checkout desk noticed. She looked at me and then at my young wife and smiled sympathetically.

When we arrived home we dumped the bags in the office and went over to the bar. Aoibhe held up her left hand as we walked in and said,

“Guess what? We got married while we were away.”

Poor Brenda just froze for a few seconds and then managed to rustle up a faint smile and a weak, “Congratulations.”

Jack just looked as though he was going to take a turn for the worse but inwardly he knew that his daughter was the driving force in our relationship. He’d probably been persuaded to do things he would have preferred not to do by his manipulative offspring, he knew how strong minded and impulsive she could be, and so after taking a deep breath, he came over a shook my hand. Aoibhe hugged him tight and told him she was so very, very happy and then we ate a sumptuous meal and drank more than we should.

Back at the apartment I gave my Dad a ring, he took it in his typical laid back style but when mother asked him who was on the phone and he filled her in on the details he said he had to go as she looked as though she was going to faint.


We got up a little late this morning and Aoibhe whipped up some shrimp omelets for brunch and we just lazed around for the rest of the day. In the evening we went over to the bar for supper and there was a notice on the door, “Closed for Private Party.”

Aoibhe looked at me somewhat mystified and when we walked in we were greeted with a yell of “surprise!” and there was a room full of people including my mom and dad, who the Donoghue’s had somehow managed to track down, along with the Colonel and Wanda, the three Mikes and a selection of their wives and girlfriends and a few others.

I can hardly believe that they went to all that trouble and amazed that they did it so quickly. We received a few hastily bought wedding gifts and envelopes of money, and of course, there were joke gifts, mostly related to sex and babies. Mike Noiseaux, decided he was the best man and gave a speech which was embarrassing, to say the least, and my dad said a little piece that caused everyone to discretely wipe a tear from their eye. Afer that we loaded our photos on the computer and gave a slide show.

The celebrations went on until late and as several people weren’t fit to drive, Jack and Brenda accommodated some and Mike Fielding and his wife slept in my office. His wife on the sofa and he in a sleeping bag on the floor. No doubt borrowing a key from Wanda, two of the Mikes had hung a string of blown up condoms across the apartment and the sofa bed was covered in confetti, we were so tired we didn’t even bother to brush it off. The next morning I had dozens of those little-colored papers stuck in the crack of my ass, nestling on my top lip and Aoibhe’s bush looked like a Christmas tree….to be continued.

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Copyright 2017 Paddy Killeen
The characters portrayed in my stories are, for intents and purposes fictional and any similarity to persons living or dead is purely a product of your imagination.
You may not sell, license, sub-license, rent, transfer or distribute any part of my stories or images in any format, or claim ownership.

In an effort to blend reality with fiction the author and the protagonist are essentially one and the same. Their oneness is reflected in their choices, their backgrounds and their obvious dislike for the conventional

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