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The Haunting Place	By : Lktwoozee Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 11162 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 24
- 25
- 26
[Chapter
Twenty-five: Maren�s Tattoo]
�Bugger it,
ye won �gain!�
�I told ye,
it�s all in the corners, luv.�
�Give me
that kohl,� Maren snatched the stick from Jack, �We�ll not be stoppin� �tils I
win!�
�But I
really should be takin� me leave soon,� Jack languidly watched as she used the
kohl to draw another grid on his stomach, �Ship to run and all.� Apparently, she was ignoring him, marking an
�x� in the upper-right corner. About
half a dozen little games of noughts and crosses were drawn onto Jack Sparrow�s
bare stomach, each one with a victorious line through three linear
circles. He wasn�t quite sure how a
morning cuddle had progressed to an all-out noughts and crosses war, but hell,
he was enjoying himself. They were
lounging in his warm bed, Jack reclined on pillows and Maren spooned against
his side with his arm wrapped warmly around her. Propping her head up on her elbow, Maren had the most adorable
expression of concentration as she glared at the puzzle on Jack�s abdomen. The kohl around her eyes had smudged and she
looked something like a bewildered ferret.
�Fine,
fine,� conceding, the pirate removed the kohl from Maren�s fist, but wagged it
about in front of her face, �[one] more game, then I best be skippin� topside,
�fore the sheer incompetence o� me crew should overpower even me good
captainin�.�
Needless to
say, Jack won again.
�Ye be
cheatin�!�
�Maren-me-sweet,
how does one cheat at noughts and crosses?�
�I do�n
know,� Maren retorted, laying her head on Jack�s chest and snuggling into him,
�But ifen there be a way, ye�d be the one extortin� it.�
Of course
Jack took this as a compliment and pecked a kiss atop Maren�s blonde head
before sighing and resolutely rising from the comfort of his bed.
�No, no,
no,� childishly, Maren wrapped her arms around Jack�s neck and tried to pull
him back down, all the while cooing sweetly, �Nay, do�n leave. Stay with me, Jack, stay with me. Do�n go.�
�Have to,�
he struggled against her siren�s embrace, getting to his feet but not freeing
his neck.
�Please
Cap�n, stay here, just for a littl� while.�
�Said Adam
to Eve,� his gold teeth seemed like fangs in his smile, �How deliciously
temptin�.� His mouth sought Maren�s and
delivered one sizzling morning kiss.
There was lovely heat and erotic moisture as Jack deliberately slicked
his tongue along Maren�s lengthwise.
Hopelessly distracted, her knees went weak and she dropped the sheet
that had been covering her naked body.
Oh yes, this was becoming familiar.
Unfortunately,
Jack used Maren�s distraction to pry her grip off from around his neck. �My apologies,� he dodged out of her
sequential reach and made for the water basin to wash the kohl from his
stomach, �but duty calls.�
Growling
playfully, she collapsed back on the bed and buried her head in the feather
pillows, �Ahhh-ooo, no fair!�

0000000

�Nay,
absolutely not.�
�[Come
on!]�
�No.�
�[Why
soddin� not?]�
�Cause, it
be a stupid idea,� Maren strode purposefully through the dim hall, clutching
her new sword and arguing silently with Kristy.
�[That�s
what ye said �bouts dressin� up all pirate-y for Jack,]� the phantom�s sharp
mind and tongue retorted, �[and as I recalls that particular venture was a
quinny-screamin� success!]�
For a
moment, Maren was flustered. Well yes,
Kristy had been right last night, but that didn�t necessarily make her right
[all] the time, now did it? Of course,
Jack would like it (this caused an involuntary and desirous shiver when Maren
imagined just how much Jack would like it), but whether or not he did that
still left Maren with a very obvious, very permanent [tattoo]. A tattoo!
A genuine-forever-tattoo was what Kristy was nagging Maren about! It wasn�t the kind of decision made by a
flip of a coin or the incessant pestering of a ghost. �Regardless o� where me inclinations on the subject lie,� she
started bounding up the wooden steps to the Pearl�s deck, �there still be the
tiny problem o� where the hell I�m suppos�d to be gettin� this bloody tattoo. Do�n gander no parlors �bouts, do ye?�
�[Newall
can do it,]� vividly cheerful, Kristy chimed, knowing full well that the scales
were tipping in her favor, �[He be somethin� spectacular at the paint�d needle,
I tells what. Why just last night,
while ye be otherwise occupi�d with Cap�n Jack and too snobby to let me stay
and watch I might adds, I witness�d Newall drawin� this fantastic picture o�
two dragons all entwin�d-like sportin� on this fellow�s back. Accordin� to their chit chat, he�s tattoo�d
half o� the crew at least once and that includes Jack. Ye know that gold coin gracin� Jack�s
ankle? That be Newall�s handiwork!]�
They both
flinched as they surfaced on top deck where the sunlight was mercilessly bright
in the afternoon weather. Here and
there, sweaty pirates scampered about, busy with their assorted chores. Only a few red eyes and some wet wraps
around dirty foreheads gave any clue as to the heavy drinking of the evening
before. Otherwise the crew appeared
lively and efficient, making Maren blush when several passing pirates greeted
her warmly as, �Mad Medium,� a pirate nickname that was created for her last
night in communal drunken inspiration and was supposed to be a parody of Maid
Marian among Robin�s Hood�s Merry Men; Jack of course being Robin Hood,
according to his own perverse standards of robbing from the rich (practically
anyone) and giving to the poor (namely pirates).
On upper
deck where Anamaria was at helm, a roomy space had been cleared and Jack was
smirking approvingly down at Nathan, who was chugging a mug of black coffee
rather groggily. �Aye, that should
remedy that hangover soon �nough,� removing the empty container from the cabin
boy�s hands, Jack gestured to the open space, �All right boy, hit the floor and
start yer routs. Parries, then remises,
finish double on yer lunges. Watch yer
lines and tempo, now have off.�
It was
precisely three o�clock on the hour and time for the young cabin boy�s daily
lesson in dueling. Jack had instructed
Maren to arrive ready to fence, or at least ready to [attempt] to fence. She wore her old brown and wool dress and
grasped her lady�s sword tightly with both hands, casting uncertain glances at
Nathan who was adeptly running through his exercises. There was a noticeable flourish and extra flare to his poses and
thrusts, especially when he caught Maren staring at him out of the corner of
his eye.
Removing
his coat and hat, Jack smiled hungrily at Maren while he approached her, �If
the ole adage be true, �Beauty provoketh thieves sooner then gold,� then
consider me well [provok�d].� He took
her hand and brought it to his lips with the tiniest lick on her wrist. �Now,� Jack cleared his throat, his tone and
demeanor changing into a strange formal bellow, �we begin yer thorough and
immediate lessons in the ancient piratical art of swordplay, a time honor�d
tradition and violent pastime for us nautical rogues hand�d down from
generations of brawlin� pirates. Do�n
fool yerself now luv, this is gonna be difficult. Yer gonna sweat, yer gonna get tir�d, yer gonna bruise, and odds
are a littl� blood will fly every now and �gain.� Maren gulped, but Jack ignored her, continuing his narration with
grandiose gestures, �To start off, ye possess several hindrances that should be
address�d first and foremost. One,
ye�re short, not a lot o� strike distance in yer stride. Two, ye�re old. Most competent swordsmen start as young as our Nathan here.� Suddenly distracted and brow knotted, Jack
blinked curiously at Maren, �How old are ye, anyway?�
�Twenty-one.�
�Well
that�s not too young at all,� he absently itched his chin.
�Thought ye
said I be too ole,� snipped Maren.
�Mmm?�
seeming to snap out of some internal debate, Jack waved vaguely around, �Oh, no
sweetheart, not talkin� �bout fencin�.
Talkin� �bout fuckin�. Any
younger and I might�ve been consider�d some wickedly dirty ole man for sportin�
with ye, but turns out I�m just a decadently dirty ole man. I can live with that.� A terrible crash sounded as Nathan tripped
over his own feet and hit the deck.
Jack rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, not bothering to turn around,
�Boy, yer concentration be worth less then rat piss. Did ye sever anythin� with that excellent example o� awkward
acrobatics?�
�No sir,�
shooting straight back to his feet, Nathan�s freckles disappeared in his blush.
�Then start
o�er from the top and this time pay attention �fore ye lose a limb.�
�Aye sir,�
he sighed and resolutely returned to his routs, mindful to obey the Captain.
�What was I
lecturin� ye on?� returning his gaze to Maren, Jack glared at her blearily
before his face lit up, �Ah yes, yer shortcomin�s. Three- was on three, right?
Aye three, ye are, in fact, a member o� the female persuasion and apt to
certain and decidedly inconvenient tendernesses,� there was an immeasurable
amount of slurring in that last word, �assigned to yer sex.� Anamaria pointedly glanced over her shoulder
to glare at Jack in warning, but he dismissed her. �See, men be naturally mo�e prone to violence and rage. We calls it blood lust, when yer eyes go red
and yer whole body is seep�d in a craz�d temper. And the sorry truth be that women aren�t thus inclined to such
brutal and barbarous acts o� savagery.�
�Just wait
�till me monthly arrives,� Maren muttered under her breath and Kristy laughed
so hard her wraith shape started to blur.
A carefully
blank expression clouded over Jack�s features as he struggled to wipe that last
bit of information from his memory.
Yes, Jack might�ve been raised in a brothel among throngs of powdered
and laced women and yes, he might know a thing or two more then the average man
does about the fairer sex; [however], when it came to this particular topic of
menstruation and all its related subjects, Jack preferred blissful ignorance on
the entire matter. After a brief
self-induced amnesia, Jack shook any other unwanted thoughts from his mind and
continued as if there had been no interruption, �Shall we begin then?�
Biting her
lip, Maren�s grasp on her sheathed sword tightened and she hesitantly nodded.
�Wonderful,�
he steepled bejeweled fingers together, pressing them to his pursed lips as his
wicked eyes stared at her wistfully, �Let�s start off with a hypothetical
question.� Index fingers pointed
outward to indicate the invisible scene before them, Jack narrated, �There be a
conflict �board the Pearl, savvy?
Swords, cannons, pistols flyin� this way and that. Total chaos and ye�re all by yer onsies,
when this giant ogre o� a pirate spys ye standin� alone and
frighten�d-like. He pulls out two
sabers and starts brandishin� them �bouts as he approaches ye. There be a distinct Spanish influence,
namely Moorish in his parries, but also a hint o� Italian riposte. So this brute be comin� for ye, with murder
in his eyes and blades a flashin�- what do ye do?�
�[Kick �em
in the sociables!]� Kristy supplied, excited from the suspense in Jack�s smoky
and slurring voice.
�Sod that,�
she retorted silently to Kristy, then half-jokingly replied to Jack, �I�m
screamin� me ruddy head off and runnin� to finds ye so [ye] can save me
sorry-arse from the giant, two-saber�d, ogre pirate.�
Again,
Anamaria cast a look over her shoulder and Nathan almost tripped over his
feet. They waited for Jack�s response.
A very slow
and very Cheshire grin grew upon Jack�s tanned face. �Brilliant!� he cheered, startling Maren who had assumed her
answer to be the wrong one, but apparently her cowardice was precisely what
Jack was hoping for. �What a protegee
ye�ve turn�d out to be, me sweet,� cupping her face and squishing her cheeks
together, Jack smacked a noisy kiss on her forehead, �Ye be positively,� a peck
on her nose, �absolutely-,� he sucked at her bottom lip, then seemed to
struggle to think of another appropriate adjective, �unequivocally-,� and
rallied onward, �correct! Right on the
mark, sort o� speak. In a fight, ye
find me and stick by me like wank to the sheets and ifen I�m not �rounds, ye
locate yerself �nother crewmember and have them fight for ye. This swordplay should only be us�d by ye as
a last resort.� One graceful arm
wrapped around Maren�s waist and Jack pressed her along, taking a casual walk
along to the stern of the ship. �Which
brings me to the first rule o� duelin�, luv,� he smiled out to the blue horizon
as he strolled, Maren fitting in so well beside him, �[Survive]. We�re pirates, not gentlemen, not military
men, not even yer average hard-workin�, church goin� citizen. We do�n fight for honor, o� wars, not even
to win. We fight to [live], sweetheart. It just happens that �livin� and �winnin�
often coincide when it comes to pirate battles, so �two birds with one stone�
and whatnot.�
He halted
their meandering at the stern railing and reached his hand out for Maren�s
sword. She dutifully handed it
over. Elegantly, he unsheathed the
woman�s blade and examined it in the sunlight, never taking his eyes off the
glinting medal as he spoke, �Now what�s the first rule o� combat?�
Obediently,
Maren answered, �Survive.�
Smirking to
himself, the pirate captain nodded his approval, �Aye, now allow me to
introduce ye to yer sword.� He began at
the bottom, moving upward as he pointed, �The pommel- the grip- the belle
garde. Here�s yer blade, blade consists
o� five parts. Listen carefully, the
tang- the forte- the mid- the foible- the bit. Now repeat that.� Relinquishing the sword back to Maren, Jack
studied her with his dark eyes.
To rally
herself and her mind, she stole a deep breath and wished for the umpteenth time
that she possessed a sharper, more keen memory. Her finger hovered over the weapon, �The pommel, the grip, the
garde-.�
�[The belle
garde.]�
�The belle
garde,� both Kristy and Jack corrected Maren in unison.
�The
[belle] garde,� she rectified, hastily.

00000

Everything
was going quite splendidly Jack had to concede. Three days at sea and nary a sign from the Spanish fleet could be
seen. The tides were quick and the
winds strong. The Black Pearl was
making excellent headway and by Jack�s optimistic calculation, they might
harbor in Carcelero by the week�s end.
Still, the pessimist in Jack knew these waters well and knew the
troublesome season that was upon them.
Storms could spring up at a moment�s notice and seriously delay them
from their course. Absently, he wet his
mouth from his flask as he examined the sky, resolving to personally check the
weather at least twice a day.
Mmm, twice
a day...that reminded Captain Sparrow of another favorite pastime...
Where the
hell was Maren anyway? She always
managed to be frantically busy and about, either learning the ropes from
Anamaria or helping Nathan with his work.
By all rights, the lass should be too bold-legged and sore to walk for
all the romping he�d been subjecting her to lately. Indeed, half their nights were spent withering and sweating,
kissing and biting, moaning and crying out each other�s names in blind
ecstasy! Then as soon as the sun
crested the horizon, he�d rouse her again from a sound sleep for a quickie
before he left to perform his captain-ly duties. Sweet Jesus, how Jack adored a swift fuck first thing in the
morning! Better then coffee...
Of course,
Jack was no fool; he couldn�t keep this maddening pace up forever, not at his
age. The usual tempo of his sexual
exploits consisted of long celibate and uneventful weeks (sometimes even
months) at sea, followed closely by frenzied days of wild erotic
carnality. Yet none of these episodes
had lasted more then a few days (though one record he was particularly proud of
lasted almost a week), so sooner or later he would eventually ware himself out
attempting to keep up with a young lady twenty years his junior.
However,
Jack saw no practical reason why he should worry about that just yet. At the moment, the pirate�s libido remained
energetic and vibrant. He felt
completely rejuvenated every morning as if Maren was some personified Fountain
of Youth from whom he drank his debauched fill from every night. Not only that, but Jack�s interest in the
medium didn�t seem to be waning either and that was certainly...well,
[peculiar] for Captain Jack Sparrow, especially as it pertained to his history
with womenfolk. After all, he had
already cornered, captured, and conquered her.
Maren was [his] now, so why in the world wasn�t he bored with her yet?
Uh-oh, best
not dwell on that ominous thought, lest he discover the answer not to his
liking...
Which brought
him back to his previous musings, where the hell was Maren?
Anamaria
was up the mast, something Maren refused to take part in, hating the idea of
climbing up to such heights, ergo she wasn�t with Anamaria. And Nathan grunted as he coiled rope, a tedious
and torturous chore traditionally saved for the cabin boy, therefore she wasn�t
with Nathan.
A queer
prickling ghosted over Jack�s skin and the inside of his palms started to itch,
the feeling almost akin to the sensation he received whenever he smelled a
storm on the horizon. �She�s up to
somethin�,� paranoid, he muttered to himself.
�Boy!� bellowing, Jack startled Nathan as he bobbed down the stairs and
approached, �Ye know where Miss Attle�s gotten to?�
For a
moment, Nathan looked relieved to discover he hadn�t done anything wrong, but
that expression was fleeting as a sour pout darkened his features and his eyes
glared down at the floorboards moodily, �Miss Attle says I not to be disturbin�
her this afternoon, says she requires some �privacy�.�
It was such
a challenge not to laugh at the boy�s totally dejected attitude, yet somehow
Jack managed to keep his chuckles to himself, �Well she did�n tell [me] to mind
her privacy. So spill boy, where�s she
hidin�?�
�In her
room, Cap�n,� he answered sulkily.
There were
certain fundamental aspects of Jack�s nature that he could never deny as long
as he lived. A few of these, like
dishonesty, self-preservation, and flippant chemical dependency were fairly
obvious. The more subtle
characteristics were also the more flattering, loyalty, a sharp intellect, and
a fatally feline sense of curiosity.
So, it was Jack�s unsinkable curiosity that grabbed him by the short and
curlies and dragged him down below to the guest quarters. Why was Maren boarded up for the
afternoon? Maybe she was sick, maybe
she was napping (absolutely justified given their nocturnal activities), or
maybe it was that [m-word] Jack loathed to think about. He shuddered. Whatever the case may be, Jack was helpless against his own inquisitiveness-
he had to know. Why hadn�t Maren told
him that she�d be retiring for the day?
He strode
purposely towards Maren�s shut door, aware that only he had the key to lock it
and reached for the latch-
-yet paused
in bewilderment, while the unmistakable voice of the resident medium cried out
softly then groaned in stress.
�What the
fuck was that?!� Jack stared wide-eyed at the solid oak before him. �O� I gets it now,� the most devilish of
golden smiles graced his lips, �So this is what that naughty tart meant by
privacy. Mmm, �privacy� indeed.� Quietly turning the knob, Jack carefully
opened the door intending to catch his prey busy with some form of decadent
self-gratification.
However,
while still easing the door open Jack received yet another shock-
�Ouch! Minds how ye poke that thin�!� hissed Maren
and a distinctly male voice shushed her up in a soothing manner.
Jack threw
open the door in complete denial.
On the edge
of the bed was Maren, perched with skirts hoisted up to her waist, thighs bare
and spread, which admittedly [had] been what Jack was hoping for. What Jack [hadn�t] been counting on was the
son-o�-a-bitch pirate with his face between her legs!
As one,
Maren and Newall swivelled their heads towards Jack, mouths gaping and faces
surprised. All three froze in that
strange tableau, waiting for someone to move.
It was Jack.
His sword
was drawn even before his conscious mind could comprehend the situation. A terrible cold temper gripped his senses
and contrary to popular belief, a cold temper is tenfold more dangerous then a
hot one. Maren shrieked and tossed her
skirts back over her legs and Newall attempted to stand up and evade Jack�s
reach, but no such luck. In a second
flat, Jack had Newall pinned to the wall, his forearm mercilessly chocking his
windpipe and his blade a whisper away from the hapless man�s throat. He stopped himself before doing anything too
drastic and studied Newall�s pale face, while he decided how best to exact his
revenge.
�It�s a
tattoo!!� screaming at him, Maren tried to pull Jack�s arm and his sword away
from Newall, �A bloody tattoo, Jack! He
be givin� me a tattoo, damn it!�
�[Ha, ha,
ha!]� Kristy guffawed wildly, �[Did ye see the look on his face! He be all-,]� and the spirit started impersonating
Jack with eyes striking and teeth bared.
�Not
helpin�!�
�Oh?�
immediately and suddenly distracted, Jack released Newall and the grateful
pirate began taking very deep breaths into his exhausted lungs, �Really?� Luckily, Jack�s short attention span changed
from brilliant anger back to indulgent curiosity in a single blink of one of
his kohl eyes and he asked eagerly, �O� what?�
Exasperated,
Maren sighed, drawing up her dress to present Jack with her new
decoration. Upon closer inspection,
Jack discovered that Maren had indeed been wearing her knickers the entire
time, only the pantalets and been drawn up and securely tied at the top of her
legs instead of at her knees, showing her bare thighs. And sure as Lucifer sins, there on Maren�s
right thigh was the partially-drawn crest of the Black Pearl, in blues and
greys and blacks, positively beautiful.
Jack�s stomach flip-flopped for the first time since he�d been fourteen.
��Twas
suppos�d to be a surprise,� she said crossly, skirt still raised and hands on
hips.
�Shit, I
was surpris�d,� he nodded happily, eyes never straying from Maren�s leg. Newall coughed heartily and moved to stand
next to Jack. �My compliments Mister
Newall, excellent work as always,� clasping his hands, Jack bowed respectfully,
�And oh so sorry about the neck and the sword thin�, very silly
misunderstandin�. Totally me own
fault. I trust an extra ration o� rum
should soothe any transgressions.�
�Aye sir,
waste nothin� more on it. Just a comedy
o� errors,� the pirate noticeably rubbed his throat, �Now ifen ye wo�n go
attackin� me none, I�d fancy finishin� Miss Attle�s tattoo,� and hastily added,
�with yer permission o� course, Cap�n.�

00000

�Really
Jack,� Maren scolded from her seat on the bed, while the Captain closed the
door behind Newall, �I chose Newall to reach up me skirts and prick paint on me
leg for a bleedin� reason! Causin� he
be one o� the few blokes �board this ship that would�n be tempt�d to take
advantage.�
Kristy
supplied helpfully, �[That be on account that Newall luvs cock.]�
�I know, I
know,� huffing, Jack leaned his back against the door and crossed his arms, �I
be daft to think that ye and Newall were fuckin�-.�
�Aye,
[very] daft.�
Ignoring
the interruption, Jack defended himself, �But ye must admit, it certainly
appear�d unseemly.�
�Perhaps,�
conceded Maren, batting her thick lashes, �but ye should�ve known better.�
Should he
have known better? To be honest (which
Jack always loathed to do), he�d wasn�t quite sure. Why had he jumped to such a conclusion? And more importantly, why the atypical response? He�d passed women around to his comrades
before like a communion wine and that had never bothered him. Blinding jealously was something he thought
he had given up in his boyhood, but it had resurfaced, blazing and angry, when
he had seen Newall and Maren. He had
felt so damn [betrayed].
�Why the
Black Pearl?�
Slightly
taken aback by the change of subject, Maren looked down at the crest on her
leg, at the Latin words she couldn�t read and the dark orb amongst the
waves. She shrugged and smiled softy to
herself, �Last place I ever call�d �home� was back in London. That be ten years �go. Tortuga were�n never a home to me, Lord I
hates that place with every bone in me body.
Supposin� the Pearl be the first place I fit in a long time, do�n have
to hide meself here.� Her gaze rose to
the ceiling and she furthered dreamily, �Aye, I could �belong� here if I
tri�d.�
�The Black
Pearl�s more then �home�, luv,� Jack descended onto his knees before her and
there was so much concealed passion in his voice and brilliant power in his
eyes that Maren became entranced by him, �it�s freedom.�
�Aye,� she
shivered as she returned Jack�s intense [stare], �it be freedom too.�
Smirking
and closing his eyes as if to properly relish the moment of victory, he slid
rough hands along her knees and up her leg.
His fingers tightened around the hem of her drawers and started tugging
them down. Maren helped by lifting her
hips, but hissed as the fabric passed over the still sensitive tattoo. It stung like a bee sting and hurt like a
cat bite, but one glance at Jack�s lustful grin and Maren didn�t regret a damn
thing. Genuinely perturbed to have
caused her unnecessary pain, he kissed her once on one of her knees in sweet
apology.
�Kritsy,�
she spat at the ghost, �Do�n think I did�n notice how suspiciously quiet ye
�came all o� a sudden. Now bugger off!�
�[But-.]�
�Out!�
�[Fine, ye
prude-arse, donkey-romper! I
swear...damn it...no sense o� humor...ne�er have any fun,]� mumbling a dozen
vulgar curses, Kristy grudgingly glided up through the ceiling.
Once her
knickers were completely removed and tossed heedlessly aside, Jack returned his
attention to the lovely and erotic tattoo on Maren�s thigh. The skin was red and irritated. Small droplets of blood seeped where the
needle had pricked too deep, yet the beauty of the picture could not be
denied. Still, it should probably be
wrapped like a wound for the next few days, but Jack couldn�t bear to cover it
up just yet. Maren, of her own accord
and with absolutely no pressure from Jack, had marked herself forever as a
disciple of the Black Pearl...and since, he owned the Pearl as much as the
Pearl owned him, Jack considered Maren branded to him too, like some willing
enslavement. Even though Jack had never
owned a slave and usually steered clear from the cursed trade all together,
(except for selling the odd prisoner to the slave mongers every now and again,
but that was only when he was in a [seriously] bad temper) the idea of Maren as
his own personal chattel definitely turned his trousers tight.
Not to
mention, the most basic and obvious benefit of this little escapade,
Jack-loved-tattooed-women! Absolutely
drove him insane with debauched lechery.
Alas, too much of a good thing could always spoil the effect, especially
when whores completely covered themselves with large, tacky pictures; it was
just too masculine, too gauche for his tastes, which was [really] saying
something coming from a man with eleven of his own and charmed dreadlocks. Nonetheless, a statuesque beauty with one,
two, maybe even three tattoos, was an utter inspiration to sexuality.
He
reluctantly tore his eyes away from the new tattoo and grinned gold fangs up at
Maren, who had her legs modestly closed, but her dress still hiked up at the
waist. His hands pried apart her
thighs, which she seemed reluctant to permit, and his fingers caressed along
the inside of her thighs, until she spread enough for Jack to properly access
her sex. Following the same path that
his fingers had traveled, Jack grazed kisses and licks over the soft, pale
skin. Already, he could smell her moist
excitement. Maren tensed under the
ministrations of his mouth and he paused to raise an eyebrow at her. �Trust me, dove,� the warm breath from his
words grazed her tender flesh as he murmured against her thigh, his voice smoky
and deep, �Every lass in the world craves a good tonguein�.�
Still on
his knees, he continued teasing the dainty cove where the leg joins the hip, nipping
with long, lazy licks. Collapsing onto
her back, Maren�s heart started hammering and her face burned. He was going to...going to...to do [it]! Mother have Mercy, she�d fantasized about
this, wished it with all her passion whenever Jack�s lips had licked her
stomach or explored her legs! She had
wanted to tell him, wanted to ask him to kiss her [there], but how was she
supposed to request such a thing without dying of shame a moment later? Yes, she knew Jack had stated that anything
Maren desired she need only ask, but still, according to Kristy, some men
despised the act of tasting a woman.
What if Jack had been one of those men?
He might�ve been disgusted with her or worse still, performed the act
out of some sense of obligation rather then mutual pleasure.
Of course,
what the fuck did it matter now!? He
was going to do it!!
The first
taunting breath he blew across her sex literally froze her in place. Having no idea what to do with her awkward
hands, she gripped the blankets in her white-knuckled fists and waited in
mind-numbing suspense. Very slowly,
very deliberately, Jack lapped his red, hot tongue over the length of Maren�s
core. An overwhelmed whimper fell from
her lips and the helpless medium started shivering uncontrollably. Another lick followed and this time Maren
did cry out. Then more, quick and fast,
followed and already the promise of an impending orgasm was pooling inside her.
As has been
previously mentioned, Jack�s youth in a brothel had promoted him in life with
several benefits not otherwise obtained by the average man. If his kisses had become an art form and his
romping a brilliant science, then without a doubt his cunnilingus was sheer
divinity! It was rumored that several
of his lovers had lost consciousness during his oral sessions and one
particularly delicate flower had temporarily forgotten who or where she
was! Poor Maren was about to be
assaulted by every skill Jack�s tongue had ever honed.
The pirate
started by slipping his tongue along the lips, up and down, tasting how
incredibly wet she�d become. Ah, the
scent of a woman! Maren was
intoxicating to the tastebuds and Jack relished the hunger in the pit of his
stomach. When he lovingly kissed her
bud of pleasure, Maren almost bucked herself off the bed. �Always so responsive,� Jack smirked to
himself and kept flicking her pearl with his tongue, delighting in her vain
attempts not to scream as she arched her back and kicked out her legs, �and
enthusiastic!�
By the
devil�s red cock, that felt good! Maren
almost regretted sending Kristy away, thinking for a fleeting moment that she
might�ve appreciated the spirit�s reassuring advice. She was on fire and the burning was driving her mad! There was no ruddy way she�d last much
longer.
Apparently,
Jack was of the same mind. Without
decent warning, he sucked her center between his hard lips, all the while, his
tongue thrummed against the throbbing nerve and his gold teeth gently ghosted
over it. Pleasure exploded in Maren�s
strained body, setting lights off behind her eyelids and dashing through every
muscle. A violent shuddering ran along
her tingling flesh as she finished her climax.
Or at least
she thought she was finished...Jack had other ideas.
The sound
of Maren coming struck like lightening right into Jack�s member. One of his hands grabbed Maren by the hip
and the other flew down to his trousers to release his pulsing shaft and set
about pacing his own pleasure. He aggressively
renewed the attack on her sex without a moment of respite for Maren, mouth wild
and tongue agile. Consequently, Maren
was winding down the slope of one orgasm only to be picked up by another.
Struggling
to sit up on her elbows, Maren tried to address Jack, �Jaa-ah! Aah!� But any attempt to reason with the
unsatiable pirate was squelched, when he pointedly held eye contact with her
while lewdly dragging his tongue up her sex in one long lick. The sight alone triggered her second
peak. This time she managed to bite
down on her hand to keep from yelling, but the passion still coursed
mercilessly through her flailing form, leaving her body devastated and
tired. She needed to rest, she needed
to rest or she�d go completely mad!
And still Jack continued!
Limp and
shaking, Maren tried to scoot away from Jack.
�Nay-wait...please stop-,� breathlessly, she begged him, �I ca�n
anymore...�
Jack
actually growled at her as his fingers dug into her hip, pressing her down to
the bed, and the vibrations from his voice pulsed right into her sex. Tossing her head to and fro, Maren covered
her sweaty face in the palm of her hands and struggled to gain control over her
body; even as Jack�s wicked mouth was buried in her center, rendering her
senseless. �Oh God!� crying out, Maren
lurched upward with her heels digging into the sides of the mattress, because
Jack had begun thrusting his burning tongue into her quivering passage, �Oh
Gawd, have mercy, have [mercy]!� It was
beyond amazing the sensation that wet tongue caused, unlike anything she ever
imagined.
Propping
her legs over his broad shoulders, Jack used this angle to his best advantage
and delved his tongue deeper into Maren.
Finally, gasping and withering, she surrendered to total
abandonment. She wrapped her thighs
around Jack�s neck and dug her feet into his back. Too bewitched to remember such petty concepts as embarrassment
and modesty, she was shamelessly grinding herself against Jack�s face, keeping
a quick and energetic pace like she did when he was ramming his sex into
her. The pressure inside her skin was
threatening to drown her if she didn�t satisfy it quickly. Not caring if she tore Jack�s scalp apart,
Maren knocked off his hat, grabbed his hair, and dislodged his bandana, pulling
and scratching with all her might while she continued to gyrate her hips onto
his mouth. The friction his beard and
moustache caused as the coarse hair scratched her sensitive skin was
fathomlessly pleasurable!
Perhaps
Jack would have complained about the harsh treatment, but at that moment he was
experiencing his own ecstasy. His passion
was rising close and fast and just as he was about to come, he opened his dark
eyes to stare at the Black Pearl�s crest atop Maren�s thigh. �Mine!� it was this thought that carried him
over, spilling his seed over his left hand as he grunted and shuddered in
erotic delight.
Maren soon
followed suit for the third time.
Arching up, propped up only by her legs on Jack and her shoulders on the
bed, she screamed out in wordless sobs, until her voice was hoarse and dry. The release was paralyzing! She felt the lust flowing through her,
finally and blessedly sated. At last
she collapsed sublimely exhausted and almost cried in relief when her body
finally permitted her to rest.
Absently,
Jack wiped his hand on the blankets, fixed his bandana, and replaced his hat
upon his head, scowling as he checked his scalp for blood. �We might have to clip them claws, ye littl�
wild cat,� he said, while he stood up.
Patting and fishing around his assorted pockets, Jack located a musky
cigar and a single match, before striking up the flame and lighting the
rich-smelling tobacco.
Comatose
from pleasure, Maren remained slack on the bed. She couldn�t even find the strength to close her legs or cover
her nakedness. So she lay there,
exposed and panting deep slow breaths.
At least the spastic shaking had ceased. �What a pretty picture ye make, all satisfi�d and sexy-like. Hits me square in me weasel-ly, black heart
it does,� suggestively licking his lips to savor the remnants of Maren�s potent
desire, Jack inhaled a long, gratifying drag from the cigar and leaned against
the bedpost, �Bloody Christ, nothin� compares to a fine smoke with the taste o�
an even finer woman on the tongue. Why
it be positively Heaven.� Maren�s
reaction, if she was even conscious of Jack at all, was to wearily close her
blank eyes. �Tir�d?� he chuckled at
her, �Are�n ye at least goin� to shout at me for smokin� with the windows
clos�d?� She must�ve been ignoring him
because, she stayed silent and unmoving.
�Eh, Maren?� pestered Jack, �Maren?�
She was
motionless.
Pursing his
lips, he cautiously swayed over to the bed and gently lifted her wrist. His thumb located her pulse point, then let
it flop back down. �Just checkin�,� he
said.
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The Haunting Place