Sparrow in the Wind

Chapter 10


Leaning studiously over the large map table, instruments of her calling working fastidiously in her hand, Morgan laid a work-roughened finger on a precise coordinate, the linen ruffle of a too long sleeve falling over her hand. The space under her finger was seemingly set in the midst of the deep blue of the ocean. Smiling brightly, she turned to the man who stood over her shoulder … the man whose shirt she wore to cover her nude form. “This is it, love,” she breathed, heady with excitement as she gestured toward the non-existent land. “That’s where we’ll find it, no?” Eyes filled with girlish glee met his for confirmation.

Easing up behind her, he glanced at the map table and nodded as his hands settled firmly on her hips, his engorged shaft spearing at her rear. "Tis as right as it comes, love."

Eyeing the map one last time for memory, she turned in his grasp winding her arms tightly around his neck as her hips thrust toward his. “If the wind is on our side we should be there in less than a week.” She kissed him hard, her teeth scraping against his as her tongue darted inside his mouth. “We’re so close it can be tasted.” Moving her mouth to nibble viciously at the sweet spot on his ear, she continued. “I lead with he Reaper and you follow in the Pearl. Oh, Sparrow, think of all the booty to be had.”

With that his brows practically rose into his hairline. Lifting a finger into the air, he cocked his head urging her to pause. "Pardon, but why exactly are you leading with the Reaper and I'm to follow with the Pearl?”

Standing to her full height, she pulled away a bit allowing a gap of air between them, the kiss all but forgotten. Her eyes became large topaz stones as she stared into his chocolate eyes. “For one, because it was I who discovered the coordinates. Second, the Reaper sails under much better camouflage than the Pearl, which every pirate in the waters would love to capture and captain for himself. And third … because that’s the way it should be.” Her hands remained locked behind his neck, yet the intimacy of the moment was precarious as she awaited his next remark.

He gave her a wicked wink and forged on with his own ruminations. “Aye. Wonderful reasoning dove. However, glory is a subject all into its own. The Pearl will have the glory."

Her eyes narrowed as she jerked her hands away from him resting them on her hips as her breasts heaved from the effort it took to contain her rising ire. “You mean that YOU shall have all the glory, don’t you?” Stepping forward, her anger threatened to erupt as she poked his shoulder with her forefinger. “You mean to let yourself have all the glory from this escapade and leave me with not so much as a ‘good work, Morgan’?” Shaking her head, reddish brown ringlets flew in way of emotion. “Not even an option, Sparrow.”

"Ahhhhhhh! But if you were upon the Pearl's Deck at my side we would both reap the glory." He gave into an erotic stretching of his lips, grinning at her so that the light caught his golden tooth just right. "Neither of us should have to suffer a plague of unmassaged ego needlessly. Tis a quite simple solution, M'lady."

She looked as if he had given over to insanity, her mind reeling with the connotation as she tried to free herself from the appealing vision of his metallic smile. He wanted her by his side? Her cynicism took root then. He wanted to keep her close at hand so as to keep careful eye on her. “And if I’m by your side, CAPTAIN Sparrow, who, pray tell, will CAPTAIN the Reaper? Shall we bring Dawg back from Davy Jones’ locker to do his duty?” Her breasts continued to heave, but not as much from anger as her tender nipples puckered under the thin material at the thought of his invitation.

"Give her over to Glasspoole for the time being. He's capable and certainly earned, from my understanding, the honor of taking the helm," he reasoned, strolling over to her bunk with practiced ease and a touch of carefree lift to his feet. "Come now, Morgan," He gave a small quip of laughter as he tossed his abbreviated frame onto the bedding, landing with a gentle thud. “Relent.”

“Relent?” she hissed as she moved to where he languished on her bed. “Bugger that!” Her knee dipped to the side of the bed trying to take care and keep out of his reach knowing the effect his touch would have on her. “Who is your first mate, Sparrow? Ah, that’s right! You already have one. And your helmsman? Oh, you already have one of those as well! Hell’s bells, ducky, you already have a bleedin’ cabin boy. So tell me, dearest, in what capacity am I to sail under should I retreat to the Pearl?”

"You'll be guarding my person, of course. Making sure no awful fate befalls me. A fate such as sexual ravenous island women, man groping plants, or perhaps...." His grin continued to flirt with the corners of his mouth, threatening to claim his lips once again. His hand shot out then clawing at the air in an attempt to get at Morgan's body. "Or, Turner and Bowen may find they need a third and find me to their liking."

She jumped away, her body thrown across his to sit crouched on the other side of the bed. Her heart raced at the thrill of the hunt as much as from the sensual tension that never left them. “I’m sure they’d find you decidedly feminine for them.” Her eyes skimmed his body; free from the shirt she now wore and clad piratical breeches. Oh, he may be slight, but he was anything but feminine, she decided, as she stayed hunkered, ready to sail airborne again if the need arose. “And as for ravenous island women …” She was horrified to admit to an actual twinge of jealousy. “They can have you!”

Sparrow scrambled around the bed an accusation shot from his lips. "Liar."

Eyes flashed as her hand shot out to slap his bearded face but missing the mark as his hand caught hers in a vice-like grip. “What lie have I told?” she almost screamed. “Damn you, let go of me!” Her wrist had his brand seared into her skin.

"I'm not feminine and if I shall have to prove myself then to you I will make the contest." He laughed, bringing her down hard across his groin. There was but a small grimace at the hard contact before he continued. "And would you really give me to a clutch of women that would sit astride me and ride me one after the other until I expired? I think not."

She writhed to get off of his body causing greater friction to grow between them, her feminine moisture beginning to seep from her core as her long legs flailed his. “You do have one certain measure of masculinity, of that I’ll admit.” She panted slightly. “As for the clutch of women … I’m sure you’ll do what you want with them whether I approve or not.” She stilled, her eyes flaring. “But I will warn you not to close your eyes in sleep should you come to me after laying with one of them.” She began thinking of and cataloguing ways to rid herself of the threat of these women as she began to writhe again to escape him before she began to beg.

Suddenly he pushed her away, clutching at his heart. "Milady! You wound me so! How cruel of you to speak so lowly of my character!" He went on and on sobbing pitifully as if mortally wounded, swearing inwardly that he would not give up his play until she spoke a kind word to him.

Falling against the mattress with a harsh dunk, she lifted her back to the makeshift headboard, her eyes taking on a disbelieving air. “Wound you? Words cannot wound you, sir.” Having no effect, she moved to her hands and knees slithering a touch closer toward him. “Come now, Jack. Would you really want to see me become jealous … possessive? A bit of a shrew?” She found herself inching closer. “Besides, love. How would you react were you faced with the thought of me riding some lusty buck?” The beating of her heart stilled awaiting his answer.

"Indeed! I would retrieve his heart,” he blurted unintentionally. Still in the throws of his play he opened his mouth and for the first time honesty was unleashed. "With my hands and nothing more! I would send the interloper overboard so that all manner of sea creature could feast upon his foul carcass."

Her eyes widened slightly at the admission before a hint of a smile touched her lips. Rising again to her knees, she moved to lie provocatively across his torso, her hands moving to gently caress the roundness of his buttocks. “Is it so offensive to you, the thought of another man touchie? e? Inside me? Mixing his essence with mine?”

"Aye." He rolled away, inwardly desolate at laying himself so bare. He was waiting for the moment that Morgan tore into him now, bared her teeth and shredded his flesh. "Tis always been such," he whispered almost to himself.

She moved beside him, her eyes gazing lovingly across his impressive back and colorful behind. Allowing her hands to gently knead the decorated skin that made her feel so alive, she leaned her face to the vibrant map, letting her tongue trail the lines. “And how do you think it makes me feel, Jack? To know that women use your body to distraction?” She allowed her cheek to caress the skin. “To know that this beautiful ass is not specifically mine?” She sighed, feeling naked and vulnerable at her own admission. “To know that I’m not truly woman enough for you?” The insecurity at her lack of femininity was now on the table and it made her distinctly uncomfortable … so she focused on laving attention on her favorite portion of his anatomy.

God’s Grief! Her tongue felt wondrous on him, as if soothing his very soul. "I will say this but once, Morgan," he began, more serious than he had been all the combined days of his life. "No other woman has ever come near to comparing to you. I've searched and searched, not daring to try and make the infamous Morgan Adams mine and mine alone. T’would be my death I feared..." He rambled on, not at all sure the point he was trying to make any longer.

She allowed her tongue to caress the line of separation as she took in his words. She sighed softly as she realized that although he admitted wanting her to distraction, he stopped short of declaring himself hers and hers alone. “I hate that you make me want to slice any woman that so much as looks at you from throat to gizzard.” She moved her body to stretch her torso across his back. “I hate that you make me need you so.”

"So is it then love we suffer, Morgan?" He questioned, turning his head to glance over his shoulder at her. His eyes cast in a dewy aura he watched her, hoping her answer would give him all that he needed.

Her hand touched his cheek tenderly. “Would it be so terrible? Could Captain Jack Sparrow possibly contain himself to merely one woman? Especially one who lacks the femininity and charms of those he could find in any tavern dotting the streets?” She was horrified to feel warm tears springing to her eyes. Now the damned bastard was causing her to cry. “Consider it a coup, my dear. You have made Morgan Adams a slave to love.”

"No more than she has of Jack Sparrow." His face brightened like a child on Christmas morning. "I'll stray from your bed never more, dove. You are the one and only woman my heart seeks." His flourish of words ended suddenly with the quiet pronouncement that left no doubt of his feeling. "I love you, Morgan."

She was certain at that moment that he could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she lay firmly on his back. “And how could I not love you?” Her mouth moved to the base of his neck kissing softly. “You are, after all, Captain Jack Sparrow.” Her warm breath covered his neck’s skin as she sighed. “My captain, no?” Not wanting to embarrass him further with sentiment, she lifted herself as she playfully smacked his backside. “Jack, I’ve just had the most fabulous idea.”

Certainly it wasn't a proliferation of wonderful conceived vows but he would take her words as those of love, he himself just having the most deliciously debauched thought of his ladylove. "Quick, tell me what you contrived but for I expire."

Jumping from him, she moved to his side urging him onto his back as her hands soothingly massaged his chest. “Why do I not release the helm of the Reaper to Glasspoole? Then I shall man the Pearl with you and we shall be side by side when we achieve our goal of finding the treasure.” She smiled impishly. “Thus sealing our love?”

He lifted his hand to his mouth to cover the loud gasp escaping him. "Morgan Adams, you would do this for the likes of me? You would sail at my side instead of captain your own ship? I have no words, love," He continued on and on falling onto his back and pulling her with him.

Melded to his body with her legs spread wide over his hips, she kissed him heatedly as the moisture of her excitement lubricated his pelvic region. “That and much, much more, my love,” she spoke, her voice muffled through the deep kisses. “But first, you must tell me that I am yours and yours alone.”

"Mine!" He howled as if the very flames of hell were lapping at arse. All the while he wound his arms around her and crushed her in his impassioned embrace, rubbing his extending phallus against her smooth flat belly. “All mine and no others." He finally managed to bring the chorus of his voice under control and deliver his claim in an urgent whisper near her ear.

She clamped her knees tighter around his hips as her mouth moved to chew the sensitive lobe of his ear. “And, Captain Jack Sparrow, should I so much as see you SPEAK to another woman with anything that looks remotely more than apathetic, I shall certainly slit her throat and then shoot you with your own weapon.” Her hand moved to grasp his rock-hard member, squeezing gently through his trousers. “This is mine and mine alone, savvy?”

"Savvy, dove! Savvy! I'll not want for another, I can swear to that." He gripped her rounded rear and maneuvered her so that her dripping sex replaced her hand over him and he gave into a thick winding moan that seemed to have no end.

It was at that moment that reality barged into their world as the loud knock on her door dropped them harshly back to the present. “Captain,” came the booming voice of one of her lesser crewmen. “It’s Fontaine, she’s here to see you.”

Lifting her head to peer down into her lover’s face, her body poised above his as her hands stilled on his trouser fastenings, she growled. “Hell’s bells!” Kissing him hard, she threw her body from his after giving his twitching rod another squeeze. “Save this for me, love.”

"I can't think of anything I'd rather do. But I will admit to being a bit curious," he rambled on just as a buxom dark haired woman was shown into the cabin, her face painted in the style of a dockside doxy.

Fontaine rushed in. “Ma’am, I must speak with…” Her words faltered and halted all together as she noticed the man lounging on Morgan’s bed. She took a step backward as she recognized the prominent pirate. “My apologies, ma’am … I did not realize.” Her eyes remained fixed on Sparrow as she backed to the door.

Morgan’s eyes followed the tart’s and she sighed in irritation. “Oh, please, Fontaine … he’s nothing to be afraid of! Come in.” Closing the door with a bang, she moved with precision to the bed standing beside the man in a unified front.

Licking dry lips, Fontaine struggled to think of what Dawg would want her to do. No, this must be done intimately between her and Morgan, thus keeping it between Morgan and Dawg. “I’ll return, ma’am, when we can speak privately?”

Morgan closed her eyes and groaned. Jack was not one to be shut out.

Quickly Jack sought an avenue to supplicate both his curiosity and the woman's obvious desire for privacy. "Tis time I had a word with my...my...with Turner." He pointed towards the door, the one directly behind the woman. Swinging from the bed he got to his feet and swaggered across the room giving Morgan a conspiratorial wink in the process. He was a pirate after all and wasn't above listening at a closed door to glean a bit of information here and there.

Morgan nodded, but her eyes warned him they would speak later. As he moved passed her, she grasped his arm giving him a short, yet thoroughly exhilarating kiss meant to prove to him that she was now ready to show the world their bond with no shame. She was through hiding her desire for him. “Only a moment or two, love, no?”

"A...well, yes...moment...I suppose that is what is required..." He mumbled, quite dazed from the brilliant intensity of Morgan's kiss … a kiss that had him blazing down to the tips of his toes. Turning, he wandered off to the door, fumbling through it and then closing it behind him. Upon the other side he paused and drew in a refreshing and clearing breath. Slowly he inclined his head to the door and heard clearly the strains of the two females voices.

As the door closed behind them, Fontaine relaxed. Moving close to Morgan, she began the carefully orchestrated fabrication born of Dawg. “Captain Adams,” she began with just the right amount of concern. “You were right to be worried about Brown’s men. They are gathering together in the Sword and Sail nightly drinking to their new vow.” More strategic alarm, perfectly planned and executed. “That plan, Morgan, is to see to it that you and every member of your crew is drawn and quartered with your pieces thrown into the sea.” Placing a hand on Morgan’s arm, she began speaking faster. “But all is well! I have spent time with many of them and I have the ability to help! All that is needed is for you to tell me what direction you sail. If you do so, then I can see to it that they sail in opposite.” She worried in the silence of the next moment before speaking again. “Please, Morgan. Let me help you.”

Morgan studied the woman for a smattering of a second before nodding. “You have excellent instincts, dear Fontaine. The plan sounds feasible.” Moving to the map table, she laid her finger to specific coordinates. “Here … north by northeast. We sail these coordinates.” Flicking her hair to the side, she looked fondly at the woman. “Do what you can to convince them south by southwest and I’ll be forever in your debt!”

Relief flooded the girl’s face. “I will, ma’am! Consider it done!” She accepted the coin offered by Morgan and nodded her thanks. “I’ll go now and see to it. God’s speed!” With a flounce, she turned and quickly left the room as Morgan looked on with deliberation.

Jack squeezed himself against the bulkhead as the woman rushed from the room, the glint of greed in her eyes and something else that Jack couldn't quite name. Reentering the room, he moved to Morgan grasping her hips in a possessive grip. “Think that was wise, love?"

She pointed again to the coordinates on the map showing him how far off latitude she made certain to be. “If they wait a day, which would be the wisest course of action, then they will veer far enough to miss us completely.” She shook her head slightly, her browns knitting. “Something’s amiss. I trust her completely … but something is definitely amiss.” Her arms slithered around his neck, her fingers gently toying with his hair. “What do you sense?” If she trusted her instincts … she trusted his even more.

"The same, love. There is naught that I can explain but something foul blows upon the wind." He eyed the map, praying to Poseidon that she was right and that a simple matter of timing could avert any disaster brewing.

“We sail now,” she breathed. “I feel the need to get the wind behind us now.” She sighed. “Let’s be on our way.” The sooner she was off with him beside her and the Reaper following, the easier she would feel. Taking his hand, she pulled him from the room and into the adventure that lay ahead.

* * * * * *

Slipping in and out of various streets and alleyways, Fontaine all but ran toward the familiar inn, her eyes continuously behind her in an effort to make certain she was not being followed. Staying in the comfort of the shadows, she went up the backstairs and eased into her room, her eyes searching the small confines for his heady, masculine form. Seeing him at the window, she moved forward slowly, careful to make enough noise so as not to startle him. “I saw her,” she said in raspy tones. Her heavy breasts spilt over the tight bodice heaving at the exhilaration she felt, both from her clandestine mission and from the very sight and lingering smell of the man in front of her. “It’s done.”

Dawg remained unmoving, still as death at the window, her words pleasing him beyond reason. Soon he would have his niece and whatever piece trifle piece of gold she was search for. "Tell me all. Leave out nothing."

She stopped, disappointed that his reaction was so sparse. Placing her basket on a nearby table she laced her fingers together, her hands in front of her at her waist. “I was presented to her by her crewman, but she was not alone. I suggested that I come back when Captain Sparrow had left, as it was obvious I had interrupted an intimate moment … but she dismissed him and I was able to speak to her alone.” She chewed her full bottom lip for a fraction of a seco “I “I was certain you would want me to speak with her alone.”

"You were right, whore," he growled, spinning on his heels and baring down on her. "Tell me the rest." The demand was issued as he grabbed her and flung her against table where she had just deposited her things, face down his hand planted between her shoulder blades.

Her cheek stung where it lay pressed against the hard wood, the hand at her back causing a bruising pain to her spine. “I told her what you said,” she panted, her rear high and thrashing slightly as she rushed her words. “I told her the men who served under you were thirsty for her blood. That she should tell me her coordinates and I would send the men the opposite direction.” She felt the desire welling inside her as her flesh throbbed where he pressed harder. “She told me the coordinates … pointed right to them on the map.” She prayed to whatever deity would listen that she had pleased him. It mattered not to her how he chose to treat her for her loyalty … as long as he said well done.

He nodded positioning himself behind her, shoving up her skirts with his free hand. He kneed her firm creamy thighs apart as he jerked at the lacings of his tented trousers. He was full and throbbing, erect the moment he heard her enter the room. "Quick, if you value your life, give them to me." Shoving his hand into the fabric he withdrew himself and poised his dripping crown at her opening.

Lifting her hips upward, raising her buttocks even further, she mindlessly rattled the numbers so meaningless in her head … the numbers she knew would place her in high regard with this black hearted monster … the man who, through pain and control held her allegiance and her craving. As she spoke, she writhed trying to feel the immense, pulsing shaft that she knew would so thoroughly stretch her to her limits.

"You've done well, whore," he hissed near her ear, leaning across her back. He smiled then as his hand guided his swollen shaft, tracing her flesh slit. Suddenly he pulled away, lifting his hand from her back and anchoring at her buttocks. He knelt behind her and licked along the path his cock had forged, sampling her flowing juices.

She dared lift her torso from the hardness of the table, shivering as she felt his tongue claiming her wetness with controlled oral friction. Muscles clenched in her lower belly as the erotic fire coursed through her body. Her breathing even more erratic, she began unlacing her bodice allowing her generous globes to fall out, her hands moving to knead the dusty pink areolas and firmly puckered nipples simulating his rough hands as she reveled in the dual stimulation of breast and heated, wet slit.

"Move again and your pearl will be mine permanently," he barked, biting roughly at her swollen clit in the same moment delivering an over rough slap to her poised ass.

A roll of sexual need traveled her as the pain heightened her pleasure. She stilled trying to remain statuesque as the feel of his mouth on her erotic nub caused a wave of impending climax. Planting her hands on the table for support, she spoke in husky whisper. “As you wish it, Dawg.”

"Aye," he said as his tongue flicked over the punished clit, laving it with soothing heat. Above, his fingers pierced her channel, entering in a three-fingered plunge, and began to take on a brisk pace.

The large digits mixed to create a rod almost as large as his glorious member, which Fontaine began to pine for as her body was thrown into sexual frustration. It was a hardship remembering to stay still for him as he had his way with her, her body screaming to mount him in anyway possible … to take his huge cock down her throat and feast as she’d never done before. She whimpered slightly, unsure if he wanted to hear her voice … inwardly begging to hear his as the sweet torment elevated with each pump of his thick fingers.

"More," he demanded, his fingers pounding into her wet channel creating the erotic sound of entry and retreat. "Tell me what you want or I stop right now."

“No!” she begged harshly. “Please don’t stop.” She groaned as a particularly sharp pain stabbed her inside to be replaced by relaxing friction. “I want ever part of your body possible inside me.” Her voice became soft and low as the shame of pleading competed with the torture his fingers created. “I need to feel you rip me with your hands, your cock, your mouth …” Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Would he punish her for that? Would he enjoy it? “I want to please you.”

"You have," he growled and bit her again before he stood, replacing full and straining cock at her plowed channel. He paused and then with a wild stabbing plunge of his hips that nearly sent the table collapsing to the floor he filled her to the heavy sacs at the hilt of his steel.

A muffled scream erupted from her as she felt nearly torn apart in her nether region. A severe throbbing remained, as did the non-too-gentle burning sensation that occurred at the very edge of her womb. “If you go any farther I’ll be ripped in two,” she whispered gutturally, sensually without knowledge of sounding so. “Please tell me you’re completely … inside?” She wanted him to fit completely.

"More inside than out, whore. Can you not take another inch?" He was eager to hear the whore's bawdy talk, things that one only heard in the darkest gutters of Port Royal. He withdrew completely from her body as he awaited her reply, imposing the pain of denial to heighten the experience.

The moist, decadent sound of his body leaving hers was both musical and torturous. She wanted him dancing inside her. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, the ebony a stark contrast to the white of her skin, she hid her tears, lest he despise her for them. “I can take that and more, Dawg,” she breathed. “Never felt the likes of you in my pirate’s sheath … dig deeper.” Her eyes shone with the excitement of the premise. “Make me feel like the first time … if you can.”

"You doubt me?" He roared, anger and lust fueling his next spike into her. His body tensed, bucking with the pleasure of her sucking tightness around his rod.

Feeling the slight tickle of his masculine fur covering his sensitive sacs and surrounding his buried spear. It happened so quickly that it took a moment to realize the searing sting throughout her inner wall and deep canal. After accommodating to his mammoth girth, she took in a deep breath and forced her feminine muscles to squeeze hard, knowing instinctively it would please him. “I’d never dare to doubt you, Master Dawg.” The words were spoken before she realized what she had said, her body still clamoring for both more sensual torture and relief from her semi-climactic state.

"Speak it again! Now!" His body positioned ruthlessly in and out of her body, forcing hers to give way for his throbbing length. "Quick and then I'll tell you how I will take your mouth and then your arse." He wanted to frighten her, knowing she would understand the pain involved.

Her body accepted the harsh treatment and created even more silky wetness as the pressure magnified. “I would never dare to doubt you.” Her voice quivered slightly as her breath quickened. He wanted to hurt her. And she would allow it, welcome it, even, knowing that it would please him beyond and that he would soothe her after the pain. And this time, she knew every word she spoke. “You are the master, dawg. I am your servant.”

It was then with her swearing her subservience that he felt the tingling jolts from his quickly tightening sacs and new his release was nearing. "I think I shall draw blood when I mate you next."

“It will be as you wish,” she almost cried, her cheeks covered in rivers of tears from the painful pleasure. “It shall always be as you wish.” A quick succession of contraction and relaxation of muscles created even more pressure to her very core … the bruised flesh needing to be salved by his warm and soothing essence. “I shall ask for nothing but to please you.”

His head was thrown back on his neck then and howled her Christian name as he spewed forth inside her, coating her with his thick heated cream.

His balmy liquid eased the burning inside her just as surely as hearing her name from his lips caused a quake to course through her body. As the orgasmic frenzy subsided, he strove to calm her harried breathing. “May I ask but one thing of you?” she said ever so softly as his body remained sealed within hers.

"Ask if you dare." He gave her what passed of a content and sated grin; below his legs trembled with the force of his release. His body burned as if the very fires of Hades had forged through him, his strength sapped he pulled in lungs full of replenishing air.

She spoke as if she were a child, her voice innocent and slight as the convulsions inside her abated completely leaving a relaxed state to travel through her being. “May I have the honor of calling you master?” As if of its own volition, her body convulsed one final time before relaxing for good.

With a wicked laugh his hand whipped out and wound through her dark hair. Stepping away and breaking the bond between them, he forced her to her knees in front of him rubbing his flaccid cock against her smooth cheek. "I will punish you for anything else. Strip the flesh from your back with a cat of nine."

Turning her head, she tentatively flicked her warm, pink tongue to trail the used, soft man- flesh. “I live for nothing more than making you content.” Her heated breath caressed his manhood as her fingers moved to skim the tender sacs surrounding it. Using her other hand to slowly pull back the foreskin that hit the tip of her master’s treasure, she ran her tongue languidly over the satiny head’s tip. “I ask only that you allow me to do so.”

"You will be allowed," he agreed. All the while his body tensed with the renewed simmering of his blood, his member began to quickly fill anew with blood.

Pulling his hardened, blood-filled tissue slowly, inch by inch, down her throat, she allowed her throat to rumble, the vibration causing the thickness in her throat to expand even more. Deep inside and then almost completely out, she pumped with her mouth and throat muscles, her teeth gently scraping against the flesh as he was pulled in and out. Her tongue wrapped sideways around the now-throbbing member causing a sucking she knew was enough to drive normal men insane. But he was not normal and her breathing was stilted as she hoped for his approval as she continued her oral stimulation.

With an approving growl he gave her free rein to see to his pleasure, to take him as deeply in her throat as she dared. Knotting his fingers in her now loose hair he offered no guidance, nor demand. She simply became a solid foundation in a liquid world.

Accepting his erotic sound and the warmth threaded through her ebony tresses, she went about devouring him, her mouth greedily working to pull his essence from his body to quench her overpowering thirst for him. A sigh reverberated from her throat as she felt him reaching climactic intensity after what seemed like hours of hungrily feeding on his pulsing shaft.

The pleasure lanced through him, driving him out of his head. His howl of release shook the thin walls around them. "Whore!"

Having drunk voraciously of his spicy, sex-liquid, she slowly licked the last drop from his slack manhood before running her tongue lasciviously along her lips enticingly. “Aye, master. Your whore.” Her hands moved to firmly grasp and squeeze the strong, masculine globes of his firm ass. “And yours alone.” She sighed as she brushed her cheek across his stomach.

"Mine," he hissed, thinking he had never been exclusive with a single whore. He had never had one lover that saw to his needs but he ready to give the novelty a try. He reached down and delivered his first gentled touch to her, a quick and fleeting caress of her high cheek.

She smiled up at him with a sensual gleam in her eyes. Her fingers trailed from the rounded buttocks to the sensitive small of his back, her fingernails provocatively scraping against the flesh there. “None other has made me feel as much a woman as you.” She planted a hungry kiss on the hard planes of his abdomen. “How could he ever?” Sighing, she swirled her tongue into the depth of his navel. “Their hands would all feel as flimsy as Captain Sparrow’s after the strength of yours, my master.” She suddenly thought of Morgan in Sparrow’s arms and wondered how it could ever satisfy.

Silky dark locks blew in the gentle breeze as Will leaned against the center mast, his arm folded across his strong chest as he surveyed the horizon, his countenance only slightly easier after being found with Bowen, and dismissed, by Morgan Adams. The gangplank about to be raised, he sighed as he vacillated thoughts between the excitement of the upcoming excursion and the blossoming relationship of love just beginning between himself and his Benjamin. In a perfect world, the two of them would sail the high seas together in search of fortune and glory during daylight hours while making their own treasure of a more physical nature during the lusty call of evening. The very imagination of if made his blood stir.

Bowen descended the main line and landed with a light thump practically at Will's feet, a playful smile arcing across his face. "To what thoughts have you given yourself over to?"


A slow, soothing smile mirrored Bowen’s as Will’s hand moved to brush a wayward lock of sandy blonde hair from the forehead of his lover. “Mostly, thoughts of you. Of us. Together.” A meaningful spark lit his eyes as he turned toward the harbor. “And of us, out there.” He sighed, his hand moving to rest on the lad’s well-built shoulder. “How do you see it, Benjamin? Will Morgan treat him well?” He looked back on the sweet, male f “W “Will they fare well together or will one of us be destined to leave his captain when the two separate?”

“Nay. Afore they only had a taste of one another, but now..." A well formed pearl of laughter tripped across his lips as he came hip to hip with Will. "They've feasted well and good. They aren't likely to get their fill anytime soon, sir."

owinowing leer came to Will’s lips as he brushed his upper thigh against the hardness of Bowen’s. “It seems to be an epidemic, savvy?” In front of whoever cared to look, he hooked his finger into the youth’s shirt lapel, pulling him nearer, his mouth a mere inch away from the titillating ear. “I’m aching for you.”

"Aye. I find myself much the same, Mr. Turner," he hissed, wiggling gently striving for more purchase against his lover, his lips finding the sweet ache for the other man unbearable. "Please,” came the tortured whisper.

Across the deck, Will caught the eye of a Pearl crewman who wad thd them with fascination. The idea of their love being open for all to see inspired a new exhilaration inside him causing a more demonstrable affectation of his desire for Bowen. Letting his tongue flick the rim of the young earlobe, he moistened the flesh there well and good. “Please, what, lover,” he whispered with heady breath. “And before you answer, yonder Calloway looks on.” He stilled for a moment. “Push me away, if you wish us to remain secret.”

Bowen could not in his wildest dreams imagine turning away Will at that moment. Instead he wrapped his arms tightly around him and made a valiant effort to be absorbed into the other man's skin. "Something so wonderful is never meant to be secret," he whispered before he turned his head so that their lips met in perfect unison.

The heat of the kiss lasted even after the winding slither of tongues straightened and pulled apart. Smiling proudly at the love of his life, he nodded his admiration as his roughened hands skimmed over Bowen’s strong back and shoulders. “Your pride in our love makes me want you all the more.” He gestured toward the onlooker with a lob of his head. “I want the entire world to know that you are my lover.” Gazing into the warmth of his eyes, hunger flared in his own. “To bed, or I take you here and now.”

"And what a fine sight that would be for the crew. It certainly would leave no doubt at all as to our affections." He giggled, reaching for the buttons of Will's shirt. He almost wished he could claim he was teasing but his body burned so fiercely that he knew he would come undone if he didn't have Will soon.

“Calloway,” the older lover shouted roughly as his fingers grasped the lad’s waistband tugging him to follow as Will backed to the hatchway below. “Take the helm until the captain sends word.” The pulsing in his groin was the sweetest of aches. “I have need of this man for a while.” Without awaiting an answer, he pulled Bowen almost roughly into the corridor below deck, throwing him against the sidewall and kissing him with insistent hunger as he pressed his hardness against him in a grinding simulation of what he wanted.

"And just how...” Bowen's words were broken by a thick rolling moan as his own hips rocked against Will’s. “May I service you, sir?”

Running his hand through the ruddy locks, Will’s hand wrapped firmly around the wild tresses and yanked almost roughly pulling the young head back to look squarely into Bowen’s eyes, his own passion heatedly shadowed in the young man’s gaze. “Take me into your mouth,” he breathed through gritted teeth as the zeal accelerated inside his raging cock creating a huge prominence in the front of the tight trousers. “Bring me to the edge … and then…” Will’s words faded as he sealed Bowen’s mouth in another searing kiss.

Bowen's tongue slithered along Will's for endless seconds, bringing him to a breathless parting, his chest heaving while his groin ground continuously against the thickening between he and his lover. "Here? Now?" He managed to gasp out.

“Could you wait,” Will rasped out as he felt the throbbing in the veins of his manhood magnifying. His hands moved to shove boldly down the waistband in front of him. “Tell me truly.”

"No. Not a moment longer," he responded as he slid down the wall to his knees breathing in the heady scent of his lover’s arousal. His tongue darted out then and lapped teasingly at the hooded shaft.

Will’s head fell back at the neck, his pelvis thrust forward as his hand moved to the back of his Benjamin’s head, none-too-gently pressing him forward as the older man attempted to thrust his pulsing member into the warmth of the playful mouth. “Oh, Benjamin, darling … please don’t tease me.”

"But...." He said before he plunged his mouth down onto the steely cock so deliciously presented to him. A soft and gentle suck was applied to the spongy cap as Bowen's tongue curled around him.

The rush of painful pleasure engulfed Will as the moist heat covered his most intimate appendage. “But, what?” He whispered almost soundlessly as a wave of erotic bliss threatened to buckle his knees, his hand continuing to entwine in the thick, wild hair, massaging in time with the suction.

Lifting his mouth away from the eagerly throbbing rod he turned a playful smile up to Will. "I don't wish to bring the cream to the top too quickly. I wish to linger a bit, Turner."

A low, sensual moan escaped the full, well-formed lips as Will’s buttock muscles clenched in the exciting thrill of threatening to explode. “The cream will continue to rise as long as you continue to churn,” he expelled in a long breath as his hands grasped great handfuls of hair. “Not too gentle, dearest,” he almost begged.

"As you wish, sir." He growled and attacked his lovers cock with a zeal that had been lacking moments before. His lips wrapped tightly around Will sucking wildly as he continued to pull him deep inside, sliding into his small throat. His lips continued down, teeth gently grazing, until they were sealed around the base and his nose rooting gently in the nest of Will's nether curls.

The hot, damp breath from the nostrils on the coarse, wiry hair of his groin was his undoing. With a panting breath, he exhaled sporadically as he felt the liquid fire climbing … climbing to its ultimate expulsion. He did his best to squeeze back the volcanic detonation hoping the reaching for was as pleasurable to his lover as the achievement. He wanted to jet long warm streams into the talented mouth ahed hed to him now … but he so enjoyed the feeling just before climax and strove to linger there a few moments more.

But Bowen would not allow it. Will had wanted haste and he had assured it. His tongue stroked the underside of the pulsing cock urging on his lovers impending climax, trembling for the taste of his salty-sweet semen. He moaned deep in his throat, begging in the one way he knew Will would understand.

That was all it took. With a deeply muffled cry he felt the essence that made his sexuality pump viciously from his body in long, heated streams of pulsing liquid pooling into the warm, waiting cavern that was Bowen’s mouth. Passion, desire, love and excitement fought for dominance inside Will.

Bowen drank deep and greedily, wanting more when Will was spent. Licking his lips, he pulled away and turned a youthful smile up to his lover before he lay his smooth cheek against his lover's abdomen, his eyes instantly falling on the voyeur upon the stairs leading top side.

Will was oblivious as his eyes fell to half-mast, his body straining to keep upright as his blood lessened its racing … worked desperately to cool.

"Will Turner, I love you as I have loved no other," he proclaimed with widened eyes on him.

Large, work-roughened hands moved to gently caress the soft, tanned cheek of his beloved. “And I will be yours for as long as you will have me. My love and body will forever be yours.” The pad of his thumb lightly stroked the line of his jaw as Will smiled sweetly.

Bowen gave into a relieved smile as the interloper turned and fled above deck. He wanted all that doubted or had entertained lusty ideas where he was concerned to know his feelings, know his dedication to his lover. "Promise you'll never let another touch me, sir."

Hearing the sounds of footfalls retreating, Will’s eyes narrowed into angry slits at the mere idea, his hands cupping the satiny cheeks of the man before him. “He that would will have to go through me first and thus meet my sword with his gullet. His gazed softened. “Nay, lover. Rest easy. All that know us will know that you are mine … as I hope to be yours.”