BETWEEN OLD FRIENDS

Author: Ebony
Rating: R
Pairing: You/Jack
Categories: Romance

Disclaimer: Jack is my personal, full-time muse, friend and love slave. *pokes out tongue* You ain’t getting him back, Bruckheimer, we’re having just too much fun.

Summary: What’s a little bit of added intimacy between two old friends…?

Dedication: To Loes, because this piece started from her drabble request. Here’s your (sadly belated) birthday present, darling, hope you enjoy it! *hugs*

Author's Note: As stated before, this was first a drabble-ish something I wrote on request for Loes in my writing LiveJournal (made_by_ebony). It ended at the first asterisks, but I was asked to write a continuation for it – preferably an R-rated one. Well, naturally I live to oblige my readers! Hope you enjoy this splash of Jack smut. And, I take no responsibility of corrupting anyone should they choose to read this despite the warning. And just to make sure, yes, this obviously is completely unrelated to my CotC trilogy.

* * * * *

He was there.

You’re aware of the delighted grin on your lips as you follow his unmistakable form move with purpose through the throng of people milling about the Faithful Bride. His steps are measured and confident, but still bear a slight sway to them, a perpetual hint of the long weeks he spends out on the sea with the gently rocking ship under his soles. Every once in the while, he is stopped by someone and drawn into brief conversation; there are many others here besides you who wish to have a word with him. But you’re in no hurry to gain his attentions. You know he would come to you when he could; he had not yet failed to do so. Until then, you would wait. And, as you follow his movements keenly from your vantage point by your cosy corner table, you find the sight too pleasing to bother with impatience.

Yes, you admit to yourself that you’re very pleased to see him again. You’ve actually missed him and his lopsided grin, his suave, often flirtatious words he always takes time to exchange with you when visiting Tortuga.

You’ve known him for half a year now, although you’ve been aware of his reputation for longer. Thinking upon it, you’re not quite certain how your acquaintanceship with the eccentric pirate Captain truly begun in the first place. But it had subtly intensified as the time passed by, and a peculiar companionship had formed between the two of you, a pirate and a thief. You sit with him every time he docks his marvellous ship down to the port, either searching him out or he you. Usually it was him who did the searching out; you reckon he got some measure of satisfaction out of seeing the quick look of pleased surprise that tended to cross your face when he dropped by unannounced to sit with you for a while. He always seemed genuinely interested about your affairs, politely enquiring this and that about your life, entertaining you with both his outrageous stories and accounts of his sails, and most importantly, flirted with you shamelessly.

Not that you ever objected with that.

There was always an air of sexual tension in your little bar meetings, some days more blatant than others. But so far, neither of you had made any move on acting on it. It both gladdens and disappoints you; gladdens because you find the game most invigorating and just naughty enough to cause that peculiar shiver of anticipation to skate down your spine. Disappoints because of the same reasons, and your dormant desire to make something happen. But those kinds of thoughts were something better left alone, for the time being at least.

The corner of your mouth twitches slightly as a smirk strives to break through, your gaze fixing firmly on the familiar figure you’ve been watching for a while already – now making a steady way towards you, a tankard in both hands. It appears that the time for waiting is now over.

“My darling,” he croons in that unique voice as he draws nearer, a grin on his lips. “I’m normally not one to keep a lady waiting like this, but it seems that my attentions were in great demand tonight.”

You allow the smirk to finally show fully as you watch Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl seat himself across from you with a deploring look on his face, a few feet of oak table separating you from one another.

“Well then, you’re in luck. I’m not exactly a lady, so there’s no harm done,” you respond blithely.

“Nevertheless, I felt obligated to redeem myself somehow,” he smirks, pushing one of the tankards before you. “Here you go, luv.”

You raise your brows slightly, darting your eyes from the clear liquid in the tankard back to Jack’s eyes. “You actually ordered this yourself?” you ask with barely contained mirth in your tone.

“Got me a few queer looks because of it, too,” Jack says wryly, his dark eyes playful.

You smile in amusement, leaning forward a little in your chair. “I appreciate the gesture very much, rest assured,” you say with a smile, taking a sip of water from the said tankard. You don’t drink much alcohol, something that Jack had always puzzled over. You can image perfectly why he’d gotten odd looks from the other patrons; Captain Sparrow ordering water is in all probability very much unheard of.

Jack gives a slow smirk. “And rest assured, I can go get you a second one if only it wins me another smile like that.”

You purse your lips slightly, trying not to grin madly. Oh, he was a smooth one, this Sparrow. Schooling your features into a sassy smirk, you reply pleasantly, “Very courteous of you, but there’s no need. You should know you can always get a smile from me.”

“I’m very pleased to hear that,” he murmurs, his dark eyes intense on yours.

You just smile, enjoying the husky timbre of his voice. It’s there again, that familiar tension that makes your heartbeat speed up just slightly. Curious about it, but not willing to move onto such topics yet, you question Jack about his recent journeys. He grins broadly, launching into a tale of his latest adventure. He tells you about a close call with the Navy, and how he had once again beaten the odds to his own advantage. You listen to his smooth, low voice, mesmerised by his beautiful eyes that almost seem to change hue at times from near black to rich russet, the oily kohl smudged around the lids unintentionally complimenting them.

“And here you are again, back in Tortuga. For some specific reason?” you enquire after he finishes.

“It's all very simple, in fact. To get me what I want, cause luv,” he pauses, locking gazes with you, self-confidence radiating from him. “I always get what I want.”

“Is that so?” you say softly, never evading your eyes from his intense orbs. “And what is it that you want, then?” You know fully well that you’re playing with fire, but you are not afraid to get burned. Moreover, you just don’t care.

“Well, now that a drink has been taken off the list…” Jack trails off, grinning. However, he gets no further before a portly man trudges next to him, looking agitated. You recognize him as mister Gibbs, the Pearl’s quartermaster. You lean back in your chair as Gibbs mutters something to Jack under his breath, and Jack rolls his eyes in exasperation. Nodding his understanding, Jack dismisses the older man and turns back to you with a sigh.

“I’m truly sorry, darling, but it appears that my attentions are in bigger demand tonight than I’d expected,” he says in regretful tone. “I’m afraid I have to return to the ship, a little situation to take care of.”

“Nothing serious, I hope?” you say with slight concern as you get up with Jack, not interested in staying for longer if Jack was about to leave. Just your damn luck that something would come up as you finally got to sit down together with Jack after two months.

“No, nothing of the sort, but something that still requires my presence onboard,” Jack reassures you as he straightens his frame, gazing down at you. “But before I go…”

Jack’s long fingers grab your chin gently, and before you even understand what is happening, tilt your face up. Suddenly, his lips press against yours, covering your mouth as he kisses you with raw desire. You have barely gotten over your surprise as you part your lips out of instinct, allowing his tongue to slip in your mouth to taste you. Shivers run up your spine as you relish the intimate feeling of his lips brushing against yours, tasting a faint flavour of rum on his tongue as it duels with yours.

Breaking the kiss, Jack grins and murmurs against your lips, “I told you I always get what I want.”

“So you did,” you manage, slightly breathlessly.

“Tell you what, why don’t you meet me at the Pearl in few hours, and I’ll give you a tour aboard, what do you say?” he says, drawing one finger along your jaw. Jack speaks up again before you get to respond. “Good. I’ll see you in few hours, then.”

With that, he steps away from you, giving you a low bow and a grin before turning around and sauntering out of the tavern. Slow smirk pulls at your lips as you come understand what just happened, Jack’s taste lingering on your tongue.

This was proving to be a very interesting night, after all.

* * *

Two hours and fifteen minutes later, your stomach is churning in nervous anticipation as you make your way slowly towards the docks. After Jack had left the Bride, you found yourself sitting back down, your thoughts running this way and that. The pirate had been very confident that you would indeed meet him on his ship; yet despite your private desires, you had not quite his assurance. You were perfectly aware why he’d invited you over to his precious ship, and it most certainly was not to admire the vessel’s famed sable timbers. Oh no, you would be admiring something else entirely.

A mirthful thought of standing him up and teaching him some manners enters your mind, but you abandon the idea soon after, almost instinctively. The realization was enough to convince your rational mind to take up Jack’s offer. You knew you wanted to, deep down. There was no denying the fact that Jack Sparrow was a magnificently attractive man, both physically and mentally. Hells, you only live once, anyway.

Nevertheless, you’re determined to let Captain Sparrow know he did not call the shots entirely with you, hence why you are already late over fifteen minutes from the one-sidedly agreed time of meeting. It would surely take at least another fifteen minutes with your leisurely gait to actually reach the docks. You’re not imagining Jack Sparrow of all people to be pacing around in circles in expectation of your arrival, but if you succeed in giving him a small slap on the fingers, that would be just sufficient.

Tortugan nightlife is lively around you as you march down the streets of the town. Drunkards and women in gaudy dresses with generously dipping necklines fill the streets, and you smile slightly in amusement over their every-night antics. This town was never a dull place to be. Casually, you nod your greetings to few people you know, politely turning down a few shouted calls to join their company with a smile and a wave of your hand, keeping up your steady pace. You have other company to keep tonight, and while not wanting to slight your mates, likely a bit more pleasant one.

It gets darker the closer you get to the docks, the torches and lanterns lighting only the streets in the town. You figure it has to be closer to midnight already. You pause your steps and come to a halt as you reach a point where the road dips downward from the slight hill the town stood upon, gazing down at the wide coast that houses the docks. It is a lovely sight, with the bright stars twinkling above the wide ocean, turned black by the night. A white sickle moon glows high up on the deep blue sky, its faint, silvery light rippling upon the surface of the sea. Many ships in all size and shape are anchored by the shore, some lit dimly by few sealed lanterns on the decks.

And there, docked at the end of a rather lengthy quay, floats the quite effortlessly identified Black Pearl, easily sighted amidst the other vessels. It is bigger and more massive than the rest, and there was no mistaking the downright majestic aura about her. Taking another short moment to admire the vessel from afar, you pick up your feet once again and continue approaching the pride and joy of Captain’s Sparrow’s.

* * *

You take in the dark bowels of the Captain’s quarters aboard the Black Pearl curiously, marvelling at the way the flickering light of the candles lit here and there dance on the deep, dark walls, the candlelight revealing a tint of deep, mahogany red in the timbers. High windowpanes have been embedded deep in the wood, dominating the far end of the quarters; three panes decorate the slanted stern and three more on both sides of the ship. A heavy looking bureau sits underneath the windows of the stern, few furled charts lying on the desktop, ornate engravings in the dark brown wood. Close to the desk, suspended atop a wooden spire sits a globe, the intricately drawn continents of the world full of all kinds of markings concentrating on the water areas. Some feet away from the bureau, next to where you’re standing, rests a round table visibly of the same heavy make as the desk. In the vaguely stuffy air, you can smell many things; old parchment of the charts, ink, salt that encrusts the windows, faint smoke from the candles, slight hint of rum, and subtle, muskier smell you’re guessing belongs to the owner of the cabin. Owner who’s eyes you can feel on your back as he waits in silence for to finish your assessment only some odd feet behind you.

A quick, private smile touches your lips; when you arrived on the ship some twenty minutes ago, you truthfully had not expected Jack to actually give you a tour around his ship. You had been very wrong, for true to his word, he had offered you his arm with a cheeky grin and explained grandly that a private tour on the Black Pearl by the Captain Sparrow himself was not a privilege granted to just anybody. So, by now you had seen every single nook and cranny of the currently very deserted ship (“On land chasing agreeable lasses and strong drinks, understandably,” Jack had answered with a grin to your questioning about the crews whereabouts) and witnessed the affection Sparrow had for his vessel with your own two eyes. You still remember his reaction to a small, fresh-looking dent upon the Pearl’s dark railing.

“Aye, this one here needs to be mended,” Jack had said in almost mournful tone, stroking his index finger carefully over the scored mark while you’d stood by watching. The way he’d touched the wood was light and gentle, as if he was afraid any more force would pain the ship. You’d idly wondered if he’d touch you with the same tenderness, before driving the thought out of your mind.

“Well?” Jack’s smooth tone unexpectedly asks right next to you, and you only barely suppress a start. You hadn’t heard him moving. You swallow dryly as you feel him boldly placing his hands on either sides of your waist, his palms warming your skin even through your shirt. His voice drops into a low murmur as he speaks up again, his lips coming close to brushing against your ear. “Do my humble quarters pass your close inspection?”

You smile to yourself, amusement in your tone as you respond, “I’d hardly call them humble, but yes, I find your quarters to be very…” you trail off as Jack suddenly lowers his face and nuzzles your neck, his hot breath on your sensitive skin driving most reasonable thoughts right out of your head.

“Very…?” Jack prompts with smug mirth after a moment as you stay silent, and you can feel him grinning against your neck.

“Very…” you start again, grasping for the right word. Your attempt is foiled again as Jack’s lips latch gently onto your skin, dropping tantalizing kisses on your neck. “I… I can’t seem to think when you do that, you know,” you manage to say with a small half-smile.

“Darling…” Jack murmurs between kisses, your breath hitching as his teeth nip the skin lightly. “By the time I’m done with you tonight, you won’t be able to do anything else, either.”

Your stomach clenches in thrill at Jack’s deepened tone, and your eyes slip shut as he bites down on the juncture of your shoulder. “That’s quite an arrogant claim you’re making, Sparrow,” you murmur with delighted smile, enjoying the sensation.

Jack chuckles throatily, bringing his lips up to your ear once again while his fingers are making quick work of bunching the fabric of your shirt in his hands, pulling it away from your breeches. “Rest assured, I’m known to be a man of my word,” he says, slipping his hands under your shirt’s hem he has finally tugged free. You inhale sharply as his warm, work-roughened palms slide across your bare skin, gliding slowly from your waist to your belly with devoted care. “And bringing pleasure to such a lovely woman as yourself is something I take extremely seriously…”

You wet your dry lips with your tongue, your mind starting to grow hazy from the sensual stimulation of your senses. Your traitorous body is already beginning to succumb to Jack’s touch, humming in anticipation and welcoming more. But as Jack’s hands begin to inch higher up on your torso, the slight jolt to your system snaps a marginal amount of rationality back into your head. Drawing in a deep breath, you turn around in Jack’s arms, his hands never leaving your body but skimming lightly over the skin as you move, causing a shiver to run through you.

“Look, Jack-” you begin, having in reality no idea how to continue – you however needn’t worry about that, as you barely have time to catch the fiery intensity in Jack’s darkened eyes before his lips crash against yours, hard and demanding. His hands settle on the small of your back, stroking and pressing you yet closer to him, sending chills up and down your spine. He kisses you with almost reckless need, his soft lips both coaxing and insistent at once. His tongue teases your lips apart skilfully, drawing an involuntary moan from your throat; but his tongue delves inside only briefly, too briefly, before pulling away with a decidedly wicked smirk.

“I’m sorry, I think I interrupted you. You were saying?”

You blink, your astonishment soon giving way for indignation. That was not very nice! Your irritation is short-lived as Jack’s hands under your shirt start to stroke up your back enticingly, his fingers meeting the cotton fabric of the binding you’ve tied around your breasts for support and concealment.

“Can you do that again?” you ask with a raised brow.

Jack’s grin is naught but roguish. “That would be my pleasure.”

Oh, the pleasure is all mine, you think with delight while Jack wastes no time to capture your lips with his once again. This time, you part your lips willingly and let them brush in sync against his, enjoying their softness. Jack’s tongue slips in your mouth, exploring every hidden nook and driving you dizzy with yearning. The soft kiss gains more intensity with each passing moment, turning deeper. Your breathing quickens as you feel Jack’s nimble fingers deftly open the small knot that holds the binding around your torso while his mouth is fervently caressing yours. Your heart skips a beat as the binding slackens its tight coil around you, Jack’s hands pulling the long scrap of fabric away; it falls soundlessly on the floorboards, forgotten.

The fabric of your shirt chafes lightly against your nipples, the sensation making them harden and stand up for attention. Jack’s roughened palms slide almost up to your shoulders before skimming downward again, causing you to gasp in the kiss as his thumbs brush thrillingly close to the sides of your breasts, but do not quite touch like you’d wish him to. Your own hands curl to clutch Jack’s worn shirt, repaying the favour and pulling the hem away from his breeches impatiently – while briefly remembering to thank heavens he’s only wearing his shirt and pants and not all the other normal articles to go with them.

Eager to touch his bronzed skin, you mimic Jack’s actions and slip your hands up his shirt, splaying your fingers wide as you place your palms on his firm stomach, delighting in the way his muscles ripple under your touch. Emboldened by his reaction, you daringly slide your thumb under the waistline of his breeches to brush it over his navel, slipping it downward yet a little more to trace the trail of hair leading south. This causes the muscles under your thumb to tense and draws out a throaty growl from the pirate, and your lips quirk into triumphant smirk against his.

Your smile vanishes in an instant as Jack abruptly pushes the small of your back with his hands, forcing your hips to press closely against his. You gasp sharply against his lips as you feel the full measure of his want pressing hard against your abdomen even through the layers of clothing. Jack’s heavy breathing mixes with your own, breathless pants as he breaks the kiss.

“Like playing with fire, do you?” he rasps gruffly, an edge of mirth skirting the words despite the blatant lust in his dark eyes.

“Perhaps,” you gasp back with a small smirk and stroke your thumb along the hot flesh of his abdomen provocatively, causing Jack to clench his jaw hard. “You started it…”

“Aye,” Jack agrees darkly, his eyes flashing with intent. “And I’m bloody well going to end it, too.”

With that said, he quickly silences any response you may think to offer by pressing his mouth on yours again, kissing you with all the lustful fervour in him. His warm hands slip forward from your sacrum to your tummy, his fingers working loose the drawstrings of your breeches with keen vehemence – all this nearly passes your awareness, as you’re so caught up in the breath-taking sensations the kiss is creating in you to even notice what his hands are doing. Jack snakes his palms under the now loosened waistline, taking his sweet time to slide them over your hips, caressing meticulously while working the said breeches down in the process; once past your hips, the fabric pools down on its own accord into a heap below your knees where you still have your boots on. The hem of your shirt falls down to mid-thigh as Jack’s palms travel underneath it, drifting leisurely downward from the tops, stroking and kneading the flesh gently.

A gratified moan rises from your throat as his thumbs make a daring swoop down the sensitive insides of your thighs, sending a tremble through your body as they brush so excruciatingly close to the apex of your legs where you can already feel a pulsing yearning for him growing. But he does not touch you there, only teases you with a thought of it – causing you to grow increasingly flustered. Instead, he distances himself from where you most crave him to touch you, and smoothes his hands down the soft insides of your thighs, caressing the bare skin most tantalizingly.

You exhale a shuddering breath as Jack parts his lips from yours, your lids feeling heavy. Jack places a small, open-mouthed kiss on your swollen lower lip, trailing more down your chin. You tilt your head back slightly to allow him better access, sighing softly as his lips descend down your throat, the short whiskers adding to the sensation. His hands aren’t idle either, but slide now behind your thighs to manipulate the skin there. Your breath catches as Jack doesn’t halt his kisses at the hollow of your throat, but keeps pressing them down the skin of your chest left exposed by the dipping neck of your shirt. You slide your own hands up Jack’s abdomen and trail them slowly up to his chest, finding the sensation of firm muscle under soft, warm skin irresistible. Stroking your palms downward again, you let your short nails rake lightly against his skin, causing his body to shudder.

Deeming the fact that you’re standing before Jack half-naked while he is still clothed to be horribly unjust, you decide the grievous matter needs to be straightened immediately. As Jack’s lips start their upward journey toward your neck, you inch your fingers down to the waistline of his breeches, setting out to blindly work loose the pesky drawstrings that keep you from feeling his bare, firm flesh. Grinning wickedly to yourself, you make sure that your fingers just happen to graze against the hard bulge beneath the fabric in the process.

Jack’s reaction is immediate; he exhales harshly against your skin as your fingers make contact with him, a guttural groan rumbling forth from his throat. In a matter of seconds, his right hand has snaked back under your shirt, his arm having coiled tightly around your waist while his left hand slipped behind your thigh to cradle your leg in a firm grip in order to bodily lift you up to sit on the edge of the mahogany table close by. You barely even have the time to blink in astonishment over his quick movements before his lips claim yours, robbing you of your breath and thought once more, his still-clothed hips settling between your bare thighs and driving the bane of his arousal hard against your own want, tearing a small cry from you that’s lost in the fervent kiss.

The tabletop is startlingly cool beneath you, but you pay it no heed; Jack’s hands are warm as they again begin their journey down your thighs, fondling the skin keenly and drawing a soft noise of approval from you. They slide down your legs, but suddenly leave your skin as they reach your knees; a protest wells within you at the loss of contact, but that’s when Jack’s fingers curl around your ankles, pulling off your boots and pushing down your breeches that were still clinging about your legs, discarding them all to the floor in careless fashion. Jack touches your bare skin again, stroking up your ankles, fingers caressing your calves lightly and making you shiver in enjoyment.

Your hands leave Jack’s stomach, grasping the hem of his shirt and tugging at it with annoyance, hoping he’ll get the idea. As wonderful as he feels, you also desperately yearn to see as much of him as possible – the low cut of the neckline gave you an alluring glimpse, but not nearly enough. Jack pulls lightly on your lower lip before separating, his gazing intensely at you.

“This,” you speak huskily, tugging at his shirt. “Off.”

Tiny smirk lifts the corners of Jack’s mouth upward, his darkened eyes alight with lust and glee. “As the lady commands,” he drawls, causing you to smirk.

Obliging you, Jack proceeds to lift the worn shirt over his head – your breath catching in your throat and your smirk vanishing at the first glimpse of his bare abdomen. You stare in rapt attention, watching the play of the rippling muscles under the beautifully tanned skin, unable to take your eyes off of him. The more of him is revealed to your avid gaze, the more enthralled you become; somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely think him to be the most perfect example of male beauty you’ve ever seen.

You’re too distracted to even notice Jack dropping the shirt on the floor or how he smirks in well-earned self-satisfaction at your hungry staring. Your gaze slips downward from his strong shoulders, taking note of the two round scars on his smooth chest. Going lower still, you take in his stomach and trace the faint contours of his abdominal muscles; he’s a lithe man, average in height, but still strong and perfectly sculpted. Your gaze is drawn ever downward, to his navel and the trail of black hair below that disappears under the waist of his breeches. You swallow thickly at the sight of his evident lust straining against the fabric, your heartbeat quickening as you feel a peculiar heat pour through you.

Jack sinks his left hand into your hair and shrugs away the strip of leather that holds your hair back on a loose ponytail, while his other hand falls on your waist, this time over the shirt. He’s so close to you that he fills all your senses, making you deaf and blind to everything else than him. Carefully clutching a fistful of your hair at the back of your head, he pulls back gently and kisses your lips with passion as this tilts your chin up. You place your palms eagerly against his chest, brushing your fingers over his nipples and rubbing the firm flesh, rewarded with a small shudder that shakes his body. The hand on your waist creeps higher, his fingers teasing you through the fabric. He brushes his thumb along the underside of your breast, causing you to whimper in the kiss and your body to jerk slightly. Your whimper turns into a gratified moan as Jack finally slides his palm over the round breast, cupping the supple flesh while teasing the pebbled nipple with his thumb. The fabric between only adds to the stimulating abrasion, and your body shivers with need. You slide your hands up Jack’s shoulders and wrap your arms about his neck tightly, all the while responding to the kiss passionately. Moving his forefinger, Jack catches the nipple between the groove of the digits, twisting it tenderly. You inhale sharply, your body jerking forward and grinding your hips against his, your stomach clenching in anticipation as you again feel him hard against yourself, the contact drawing groans from both of you. Having had enough, you unwind your arms around his neck and reach your hands down, starting to work loose the strings once again.

Jack breaks the kiss, breathing heavily as his hands leave your hair and breast. Landing them on your thighs, he pushes the hem of your shirt up to bunch at your hips. Your own fingers pause their task, and you feel like sobbing in relief and exasperation as his fingers flutter along the insides of your thighs, edging closer to where you were aching to be touched. You heave a shuddering breath as Jack bends his head to kiss along your shoulder, closing your eyes and trembling as the pads of his fingers trail small patterns on the insides of your thighs, so agonizingly close and yet so far. Almost without a conscious thought, a breathless plead spills from your lips, so hushed you’re not sure if Jack hears it. You have your answer as he begins kissing up your neck, suckling on the skin on the juncture of neck and shoulder while lifting his right hand, his palm pressing against the curls covering the apex of your thighs and his forefinger sliding down gently to touch you.

Your hips buck slightly against his hand as a soft cry of pleasure tears from your lips as Jack strokes you with gentle care, groaning against your neck as he feels the evidence of your arousal. Your body shakes from head to toe at the pleasurable sensations spreading through your being from the very core, your breath coming in quick, soft gasps. With trembling fingers, you tug at the strings of his breeches with desperate haste, fearing you might not survive it should you not be fully joined with Jack soon. Jack moans in gratification as the cloth about him finally loosens after a few moments. You still don’t get the strings untied all the way, but you frantically push the waist of the trousers down his slender hips as far as they go, enough to free his length from the confines of the cloth. Jack hisses loudly as if in pain, gasping against your neck as your eager fingers run up his hardness and curl around him, feeling the flesh pulsing beneath your palm in time with the throbbing ache deep within your belly.

Jack draws his caressing hand away from your core, grasping instead the wrist of your hand stroking him and pulling it away, yanking it behind your back and holding it there while his lips crash against yours roughly, his other hand clutching your hip. His tongue delves into your mouth with wild abandon that you willingly return, kissing you senseless whilst manipulating his hips and pushing the tip of his length into your body. You break away from the kiss with a keening whimper, shuddering at the welcome intrusion. Jack moans deeply in pleasure as he slowly pushes further into you, your body enveloping him tightly in its soft warmth. You inhale, loving the feel of Jack buried within you to the hilt. Breathing hard, Jack releases his grip of your wrist and grabs the hem of your shirt with both hands, lifting it over your head and throwing it aside.

The admiring gaze in which the pirate keenly explores your bared curves sends a chill down your spine, his hands following his eyes as they travel from your hips up to your waist, gliding across your stomach and finally up to your breasts, making your body tremble and a sigh to spill forth your lips as his rough palms cup the flesh, kneading softly. Slowly, Jack starts to roll his hips, pulling out of you just as leisurely as he’d slid in, before pushing back inside, shuddering and growling low from his throat as your body clutches him anew. You gasp and give a quiet moan as the exquisite friction whets your desire into new heights, your thighs clutching Jack’s hips as he settles into a steady pace, thrusting deeply into you.

You close your eyes and bite your lip to curb another moan that rises to your lips as a powerful surge of unadulterated pleasure shoots up your body, your muscles clenching in response. You open your heavy-lidded eyes to meet Jack’s dark eyes, clouded with lust, as his hands abandon your breasts, sliding around your body to rest on your back.

“Lean back, luv,” he whispers throatily, pausing his thrusting.

It takes a second for your hazy mind to comprehend the request, but do as Jack asks, leaning backwards carefully while Jack’s helps supporting your weight. Pressing your forearms against the tabletop somewhat behind you so that your torso is still slightly raised, your lower back resting against the hard wood after Jack pulls his hands away. You gasp sharply as Jack picks up his movement; the change in position tilts the angle of your hips and not only allows Jack to push deeper, but to brush perfectly against the most sensitive spot within you with each stroke. The amount of near painfully intense pleasure floors you after every move of Jack’s, and you attempt to dig your fingers in the hard wood beneath you as the wonderful pressure in your abdomen grows stronger with each thrust.

Mimicking your pose, Jack leans slightly downward to hover over your body, his weight supported on his forearms on either side of you. You cry out loudly in pleasure as he suddenly bends his head, capturing your left nipple between his lips. His hair spills down his shoulders to lie upon you skin in a mass of soft hair and hard trinkets that press coldly against your warm flesh, adding to the myriad of sensations coursing through your shuddering body. A throaty groan tears from your lips as Jack flicks his tongue over the nipple, nipping it carefully with his teeth before suckling on it soothingly, never ceasing his thrusts that have started to turn harder and faster, pushing you closer and closer to the sweet nirvana you know is waiting for you both. Your eyes close at the feeling and your head lolls back while you grin in blissful pleasure.

Groaning as your body gives a small convulsion and grips him tight for a moment, Jack quickens his pace in the mounting haste to reach the rapturous completion. His hips slam against yours relentlessly as his lips leave your nipple, only to bestow the same kind of attention to its twin. You gasp for breath under the sensuous onslaught of his lips and tongue, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your bodies in the flickering candlelight. The overwhelming ecstasy emanating from deep within you sweeps through you in waves that make you shudder and moan in their wake, the strange coil in your belly tightening with every stroke and caress of Jack’s; you know you’re not far from falling from that beautiful edge. You know it’s the same with Jack, for he now pushes hard into you, demanding.

Jack lips start trailing kisses up along the valley between your breasts, similarly demanding like his fervent thrusts. A long, keening whine rises from your throat as you finally reach the highest summit of your desire, that sweet point before the tumble where the pleasure inside you intensifies into near unbearable heights, causing you to gasp and plead aloud, only barely aware of your actions as the hot-white pleasure wreaks havoc on your mind. You don’t even realize the breathless, frenzied “Oh god, Jack!” ever left your lips.

You just about feel Jack straightening slightly and grasping your left thigh tightly with one hand, using it as leverage and drawing your hips hard against his as he slams into you with a deep, powerful stroke, once, twice, three times before your body shudders uncontrollably as the coil snaps and bursts into millions of pieces, pushing you over the brink and into mind-shattering ecstasy. Your lips part slightly as to scream, but no sounds comes out. Your trembling arms give up under you and you land flat on your back on the table, but you do not care. You can only gasp for breath and moan as your body convulses and quakes wildly, your fingers clawing at the tabletop, a blindingly white light simmering behind your tightly closed lids as your body floats in the glorious bliss of your orgasm.

You hear Jack giving a rumbling cry of pleasure as your completion brings forth his own, your still contracting muscles milking him of his essence as his body shudders from head to toe, before nearly collapsing on top of you, burying his face against your neck, his breathing hot and harsh against your skin. Slowly, you raise your still quivering arms to wrap them around him, stroking his back up and down as your sweaty bodies recover from the intensity of the act, the silence broken only by the sounds of your heavy breathing.

Only after many long moments, you trust your voice not to tremble, unlike your body that still hums relaxed contentment. “You were not joking earlier… I know for certain I can’t think or walk right now,” you say softly with a grin.

Jack chuckles against your neck before speaking up, his voice husky and slightly drowsy. “However, it seems that you’re still able to talk. Suppose I will have to try again and remedy that.”

You laugh as you feel Jack kiss your neck lightly. “Perhaps after we’ve had the time to recover from the first try!”

“Agreed.”

You smile, stroking your fingers along his smooth skin. This had indeed been an interesting night.

THE END

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