Cougar Traps Top Irish Porn Writer

5

May 21, 2013 by aoifebrennan

By Henry James, cub reporter with the DailyGossip. (Intrepid Cougar Stalker Reporter)

Buy The Cougar Diaries Part I here

shoe on hand

In a story that narrowly missed the Sunday papers, it emerged last night that top rugby playing, porn writing, bisexual, Irish porn legend Robert India had been savagely mauled by a Cougar in plain sight in Dublin 2. The antics began late on Sunday evening when Aoife Brennan, Dublin’s newest cougar, was seen prowling in the Dublin 2 area with one of her blonde friends in tow. This was noted by regulars to be unusual as Ms Brennan normally frequents north of the Liffey and habitually drinks in Clontarf and sometimes on the Green, but rarely as far south at the Scruffy Murphys on Baggot Street. However, her famous long legs were seen dangling over a bar stool and tip tapping her impatience. She and her friend were deep in conversation but also keeping their eyes peeled every time the door opened and fresh blood entered. Despite the increasing numbers of attractive young males entering the bar, they did not appear to pass muster, or perhaps they were the wrong kind of young stud. Locals said afterwards they thought a text dislodged the duo as they left their untouched drinks on bar after getting this message and rushed onto pastures green.

I followed at a safe distance, as calculated by the ratio of height of heel to scarcity of skirt, and watched the girls reach the Merrion Hotel before slipping down to the Cellar Bar. I discreetly edged down the steps into the dark bar and took up residence nearby, cleverly blocked by a pillar. Actually, it was too clever as all I could make out was the lovely ankle, again swinging in a tapping motion. Whoever was meeting Ms Brennan was going to get into some serious trouble for being late or switching the venues or both.

Imagine my astonishment when the hapless young man was no other than porn writing, rugby playing Mr India. Always dressed immaculately, man about town and bonne vivant, Mr India nearly had his collar pulled off him by the cross Cougar. To the uninitiated, it may have looked as though Ms Brennan was merely adjusting his collar and bringing him close to kiss. But I recognised the steely hand that first pulled Mr India to her and then smoothed him away. I had a bad feeling about this encounter and was not sure who might come off on top. Normally Mr India would eat his way through swathes of young nubile women or men for that matter, but I had my doubts tonight. I was reminded of the infamous, and strangely appropriate lyrics from Frankie Goes to Hollywood – When two tribes go to war, a point is all that you can score. I wondered who might score and who might win the war.

The Cougar never raised her voice and it appeared that Mr India was attempting to placate matters. Champagne appeared and then some nibbles. Her blonde friend was laughing at Mr India’s jokes but I could not discern Ms Brennan’s distinctive tinkling laugh over the low hum of conversation in the bar, even as I strained my poor ears, even placing them against the wooden pillar to see if the sound would carry through. There are days when I die for Ms Brennan’s laugh and this was not going to be one of them.

After what seemed a lifetime, I mean how long does it take three people to quaff a bottle of champers? The women rose to leave. I thought it was game over, or at least a draw, but in a sudden late switch, the blonde exited first to a waiting taxi. That left Ms Brennan and Mr India. I have to confess to being very excited. It is rare to see two highly developed individuals locked in mortal combat, and this was surely the end route of this night. I guessed right, as I followed them out of the bar. Arm and arm they walked up Baggot Street towards Mr India’s pad. My badge of journalist integrity, cub or otherwise, forbids me to indicate the actual address but let us say it was not far and still in leafy Dublin city centre.

I climbed into a tree conveniently positioned across the road from Mr India and prepared to wait. If the champagne took a long time to ingest, how much longer must a Cougar and Jaguar take? I wanted the after pictures for my editor. I had snapped one or two of them entering his place but that could have been innocent, the real money shot was in how she looked when leaving and when she left.

It must have only been three hours later when the outdoor light went on and Mr India’s front door opened. I grasped my camera tightly and focused in for the shot. What I saw would remain with me forever and serve as a warning for young men everywhere. I clicked the shutter and then I almost choked. Ms Brennan looked as immaculate as when she entered. There was not a hair out of place – even at this distance and with my long lens I could see even her makeup was virtually un-smudged. She was beauty personified as always and I heard her tinkling laugh flow across the street to me, full of musical cadence. She paused and placed her six inch red heels on Mr India’s shoulder – yes for that was where he lay. Even as she had walked out with a spring in her step, Mr India had crawled the length of his hall to bid her farewell. His eyes were bloodshot, his face crumped and his body seemingly incapable of raising from a slovenly crawl. My god, what had she done to him? How had she reduced him to such a quivering wreck? I took the money shot, had I but known it, and in my extreme surprise at the contrasting conditions toppled head first from the tree onto the pavement below. I confess to making some noise, namely bellowing in pain, which resulted in three devastating results. The first was my discovery. The second was Ms Brennan’s swift’s action in moving to my side, not to aide me, but to take my camera. The last was a neighbour called the police.

Charges were not pressed. At the end of the day the neighbour had no real gripe, the camera was gone and so too had my suspects. I was given a verbal warning not to go climbing trees at my age and released back to the bus stop to go home.

The Cougar definitely won this match. She did eventually send back my camera, all images wiped. She praised me for my determination and my excellent eye. She told me the last image was a money shot and that I could have made some serious dosh with it. However, she also suggested that she would sue my little skinny Irish ass if I ever tried anything like that again.

Formal Statements:

Aoife Brennan, author and cougar

I would like to reiterate that Robert and I are, and continue to be, just friends.”

 

WildeCity Press, Official publishers of Robert India

“We would like to point out that our authors behave in responsible ways and we genuinely believe that in the match of cougar versus jaguar, our jaguar would win ever time. Now if Robert were to be pitched against an alien we would not be so sure of the outcome, unless he was assisted by cowboys, like perhaps inhabit his debut MM novella, Confessions of a Gay Rugby Player. In fact, the more we think about it, we believe this is Henry James trying to concoct a beard for our lovely author. We have nothing further to say.

 

Robert India, author and pornographer

If I get my hands on the fecker, I will press charges next time.”

Garda Press Representative

All we can say at this time is that no charges were brought against Henry James on the night in question. Moreover we did not brief any government ministers on the verbal warning issued to Mr James. Moreover, no government minister went on Irish television and spilled any beans of this nature. Nor is Mr James an independent TD and so who frankly gives a damn.’

Max Clifford, Publicist

Normally, I believe Robert India might benefit from my services but I am a little tied up at the moment and will have to call him later. My advice to Mr India? Deny everything until you are paid to talk.’

 

Piers Morgan

Who is this Robert India? Is he as fabulous as me?’

Mike Sheridan, editor Joe.ie

‘I can categorically state that we did not employ Mr James to take photographs of Ms Brennan. We already have some pretty scrummy shots of her, albeit without her face. But when one is poking the fire etc etc. Sorry ladies.’

Buy The Cougar Diaries, Part I here

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5 thoughts on “Cougar Traps Top Irish Porn Writer

  1. Did I ever stand a chance?

  2. Qmac says:

    Too much fun!

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