The Irish Moo's (WIP - Part 1) (Patreon)

In the heart of the city, where the lights flickered against the darkening sky, two plus-sized lady friends, Arc and Raug, were gearing up for an unforgettable St. Patrick's Day celebration. The two had become best friends for life ever since Raug had been blessed by the other with their new found curvy form a number of years back.The air buzzed with excitement as the duo made their way to O'Sullivan's, a renowned Irish pub known for its lively atmosphere and flowing taps.

“I’m so glad you were able to get away for one night,” gushed Raug, the busty russet colored bovine. “We haven’t gone out in a bit like this.”

The sky blue furred Wuffamute snickered, taking the other’s hand in their own soft paw. “It helps that Siri was able to bring some peace to the city.”

Raug feeling their digits being held by the canine’s, gave way to their own bashful cheeks. “This is true. He and the rest of the Guardians really know how to handle threats these days.”

Arc nodded, moving ahead, pulling at the heffer’s arm. “True but I am super excited to be out with you too my precious. Time to let loose and celebrate!”

Decked out in shades of green; from the intentionally too small checkered shirts tied around their generous racks, and the tattered jean shorts which only accentuated those filling backsides. Raug and Arc eagerly entered the pub to the infectious beat of Irish folk music. The scent of hearty stews and sizzling corned beef wafted through the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the revelers.

“I told you this was the spot,” playfully hip bumped Raug. “Look at all this merriment.”

Arc sniffed at the air, getting more of those tantalizing scents and wafting aromas. “Also seems like a great food joint too.”

Raug dipped their chin towards the shorter lass. “It’s called a pub for a reason hun.”

“Oh… guess that’s true,” she giggled, slightly embarrassed. “Should we find a place to sit?”

“Sounds like a good place to kick off our night. How about at the bar?”

“Seems like a good place as any here.”

The friends found a cozy spot at the bar, their thick rumps resting atop a stool as each cheek hung off with ease but their eyes lit up at the sight of the menu bursting with Irish delights and a formidable selection of drinks.

The bartender, an amiable Irishman of a Hare with a thick accent, greeted them with a warm smile. "Happy St. Paddy's Day, lassies! Don’t you two beauties look lovely in all that green. What can I get ya?" he asked, cleaning out a pint glass.

As Arc tried their best to look over the menu once more, their ears perked up to the boisterous response of the bovine.

"Two pints of your finest Irish stout, my good man!"

The hare set the glass he finished cleansing down and placed another next to it.

The canine tilted their head over then back at the menu. “A pint? Are you sure?”

Raug snickered, nodding. “We came out to enjoy and take in the festive spirit, right?”

Arc shook their head, before patting at those plump face cheeks. “You’re right. Gotta loosen up and live tonight.”

“That’s the Irish spirit,” added the Hare, setting each brim filled glass to their respective owners.

Raug looked hers over, before gingerly grabbing at it, and lifting up to their luscious lips.

Arc did the same, still having a bit of apprehension about it but not wanting to dampen the mood followed suit.

The duo clinked their glasses in a toast, spilling some of it on themselves, to friendship and the revelry of the venture. The first sip of the velvety stout set the tone for the night. They continued to chat about all the adventures they had witnessed, all the friends they had made along the way, and laughed at the prospect of waking up with a sea of green regrets the next day.

The pub's ambiance was infectious, and soon Raug found themselves drawn to a group of locals playing traditional Irish tunes in the corner. With each sip, she roused herself from the stool and waddled her way over. With every lively note, their spirits soared higher, joining in the singing that had sprang.

“Arc,” she called, waving the canine over. “I know this is your scene. You love to sing!”

The Wuffamute blushed, holding that now half empty glass to their muzzle.

“Come on,” continued the heffer, stretching out an arm. “Don’t make me come over there and drag you here.”

Arc tipped their head back, guzzling down more of the drink as it helped nurse those worrying thoughts. She slowly moved over, now emboldened by the pairing of their close friends taunting and the boozy beverage.

“Play something fellas,” exclaimed Raug, smacking a hand over the top of the piano. “Let’s keep this place going!”

Another favorite of the pub played out as all the customers began to sing or what some would consider it. As the canine listened, seeing Raug do their best to follow along it only made them giggle but it wasn't long till they found themselves carrying a tune to it all.

Another wave of inhibitions waned over Raug by the camaraderie she had found, paired by the intoxicating drink she finished off. They suggested a round of Irish car bombs, a decision that would significantly alter the course of their evening. Shots were poured, and the friends, fueled by the festive spirit, dropped them into pints of stout with reckless enthusiasm. The explosion of flavors and the subsequent warmth that surged through their bodies only intensified their laughter and sense of adventure.

“See,” called out Raug, leaning themselves closer to Arc. “Isn’t this a great place!?”

Arc looked up at the others' faces, seeing those eyes start to show signs of the liquor now swirling inside their stomachs. It brought a giggle, which was cut short by a small hiccup.

Raug offered a smile to the reaction, only to hiccup themselves but as she held her gaze upon the canine, she took stock of the others presenting full viewed cleavage. “I’ll never stop loving how big and round those are.”

Arc’s ears perked up to that sudden sensual tone. “W-Wha-” As she tried to respond, she felt her breast get groped and squeezed by the heffers coaxing hands. Her eyes rolled a bit at the stimulating motions.