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No profit, no foul, no way they would let this ever happen in a Disney movie.
Warning: More sort of het activity, but with a hearty dose of slash to keep it gay in spirit if not action.
Timing is Everything
Captain Jack Sparrow draped himself fluidly over the railing of the Black Pearl to watch the moon rise over the jagged mountains. His ship bobbed softly on the calm waters of the sheltered bay, the air was warm and fresh, and all seemed right with the world.
Except that he knew Will Turner was, at that very moment, preparing to bed the reprehensible Charlotte, the harlot, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
Jack lifted his head to stare at the deserted shore, and then dropped it to smack it hard against the wood railing. Why did he have to be so bloody noble? Will had come to him, all eager and begging forgiveness, saying he would prove his love for Jack by not getting Charlotte pregnant. And what had Jack done? Not to be outdone, Jack had told him, “Oh, no, Will. It’s okay. You go ahead and fuck the Harlot, I don’t mind one bit. I love you too much to stop you from bedding a woman…”
Maybe not in those exact words, but that had been the outcome.
“I can never resist a pissing contest,” he muttered to the night air.
So here he was. Proving he loved Will as much as Will loved him. Absurd.
For two days and one night, the conspiracy of the DeMauriers had kept him away from the most luscious man on the island. Every bloody time he got within two feet of Will, one of those wretches would pop up between them and hustle him away. Even Bootstrap got in on the action, dragging Jack down the beach to his boat a few hours before. It was only a goodnight kiss, for the love of god. Jack felt he was owed at least that.
Anamaria arrived not too long before, in almost as foul a mood as Jack. Matthew was sitting with her now, explaining and cajoling the way he’d talked Jack into not lopping off heads earlier.
Oh, no, he wasn’t. Not anymore. Matthew was climbing down and rowing back to shore. Because his lover wasn’t bedding his stepsister tonight. Oh, no. His lover was waiting for him, and the two of them would get naked and go to bed together and do whatever it was Alphonse and Matthew liked to do together when they were naked and in bed.
But Jack! Jack had to stay here, on the Pearl, while that filthy little harlot…
“Oh, hello, Anamaria.”
“What did you just say about my girlfriend?”
“Nothing, nothing at all.”
“Well, keep it that way, Jack. Because there’s a few things I could say about yours.”
“My girlfriend?”
“Your ‘harlot’.”
“But you won’t, because we’re going to remain civil, aren’t we?”
She nodded, and settled next to Jack against the rail.
“What now?”
“There’s a case of rum right behind you. Would you be so kind as to…”
“Only if I can get drunk too.”
“Ooh, we have an accord. I love an accord! Drinks all around!!”
Will licked his lips nervously. Charlotte was inside the little hut, built for her by Matthew and Alphonse and Anamaria and Franklin, as an advance present for the baby. The baby he was supposed to make. She was waiting for him, he knew. But he wasn’t ready to go in just yet. In his mind, he replayed all the tips Bootstrap had given him the afternoon before. About preparation and fingers and positions and timing. Timing was everything. So was attitude.
He took a deep breath and knocked on the roughly-hewn door.
“Enter.”
He pushed it open and stepped into the room.
Charlotte sat on the edge of the bed wearing a frilly sort of nightgown with her red hair tumbling down over her shoulders. She really was quite fetching, and would even be beautiful to Will, if it wasn’t for her being a woman.
He wondered if that was the only thing. He wondered if he would be attracted to another man? He thought about some of the men on the island. There were certainly a lot of attractive men around. Franklin and Matthew and Alphonse and Shimura and, oh, Bertram was quite nice looking… but none of them made him excited. None of them were Jack.
So it wasn’t just gender. He wouldn’t be comfortable no matter who he was with, unless the person he was with was Jack, in which case he would be more than comfortable. That was interesting. Will shook his head and focused. He had to concentrate on the task at hand.
Charlotte stared at him, waiting for this moment of dazedness to pass. She assumed he was thinking about Jack, getting himself ready. She could live with that.
Will sat on the bed, running Bootstrap’s lessons through his mind. He lifted one hand to Charlotte’s cheek and turned her head toward him.
The kiss was sweet, delicate. His lips pressed against hers softly, his tongue swept teasingly until her lips parted, and then entered her mouth. All very gentle and gentlemanly, considering what they were doing. His other hand traced up her arm and shoulder. He pushed his tongue further into her mouth and let his hand glide across her throat and down, to rest over the swell of her breast.
Charlotte felt herself grow dizzy. This wasn’t the same scared boy from last month. He was seducing her, showing her what he wanted, taking control even. She gasped as his thumb brushed over her nipple, teasing it to full erectness. Little moans accompanied every swipe of his tongue in her mouth. And when he nudged her down, to lie on the bed, she melted back onto the mattress willingly.
Jack shook the rum bottle inches from his face. Definitely empty. Bugger.
“Anamaria, I seem to have run out of rum. Do you happen to have any more?”
Anamaria flopped ungracefully in the direction of the crate, wincing when her own rum bottle fell to the deck and rolled downhill. The Pearl pitched in the opposite direction and the bottle rolled back, bumping her on the knee.
“S’empty, too,” she slurred. “But fear not, we have plenty!” She fished around in the straw packing material and pulled another bottle from the crate. “Victory!”
Jack guffawed and held out his hand for the bottle, quite miffed when Anamaria popped open the cork and took a long pull. “Hey, that’s my rum, you heartless wench.”
Anamaria laughed. “It’s our rum, Jack. And don’t call me ‘wench’, you scallywag.”
“‘Scallywag’! Why you two-bit strumpet!” He lunged and snatched the bottle from her hand, landing in an undignified heap on the deck.
“Strumpet! I’ve slit men’s throats for lesser insults!”
Jack tilted his head back and let the rum pour down his throat without pausing to swallow. When the flow rate from the bottle exceeded that of his gullet, his mouth overflowed and he found himself with a shirt soaked in rum, untidy but pleasantly cool on the skin.
“Anamaria,” he gargled, “just what do you suppose the two of them are up to by now?”
Charlotte was lying back on the bed with Will Turner licking and kissing his way down her naked torso. He lapped at her pale skin like a hungry kitten, and she purred in excitement. This might not be so awkward and unsatisfying as the last time.
Will drew a pink nipple into his mouth and rolled his tongue around it. Didn’t do a thing for him, other than the fact that it bore a vague resemblance to sucking on Jack’s nipple. But only in that it was, in fact, a nipple and he, Will, was in fact sucking on it, and he did like to spend whatever time as was available sucking on Jack’s nipples, so there was an natural sort of correlation.
But it didn’t feel right. There was no muscle straining under his lips. No wispy black hairs gliding under his tongue. And it was much larger than Jack’s nipple. Not as hard. Maybe if he gave it the carefullest, gentlest little nip, a tug really. Ah, it was much harder now. Much more palatable.
Charlotte sighed. And hoped he wasn’t planning to spend the rest of the night on that one nipple. Then somewhat rough, but still gentle, hands slid down her belly, and long fingers dipped between her legs. She shivered and wriggled to get them closer. Long, exploratory strokes across her moist folds. And a thumb gliding over her hard clit. Yes, that was perfect.
Will rubbed little circles around the hard bump. It seemed to be working just fine. Charlotte sighed and moaned and wriggled and the folds of flesh beneath his fingers were getting wetter. Fascinating. Of course, it still didn’t do anything for him, but she seemed to be enjoying it immensely. He licked along her belly, not as hard and flat as Jack’s, skin so soft he was afraid to damage it. He worried about his fingers between her legs. He didn’t want to scratch her. They were a lot softer than usual, and she wasn’t complaining, so he assumed everything was alright.
The air filled with the smell of Charlotte and the cream Juni had pressed into Will’s hands on his way to Charlotte’s hut. Sort of like the hair conditioner but thicker. The tiny woman stood on the path in front of him, rubbing the thick white substance into his hands. He was shocked at first, assuming it was meant to be some sort of lubricant. But then he realized she was rubbing it into his skin, and that it was smoothing his skin. She smiled up at him while she rubbed the cream into every nook and cranny, paying special attention to fingertips and knuckles, and talked in her language. The only words he understood were “help”, “woman” and “happy”. But, he guessed, those three words just about summed it up.
“It’s despicable.”
“It’s a disgrace, that’s what it is.”
“I mean, who ever heard of fathering a child as a favour.”
“And why assume it will even happen? I mean, she lost a couple of babies, you know. Whether it was on purpose or not. In her line of work, that’s a given. We don’t even know for sure if she can have one.”
“What did you say?”
“Jesus, Jack, don’t you go repeating that to anyone! It’s private, and a secret. On your honour, you swear you’ll never tell a soul I told you that!”
“What honour?”
Anamaria giggled.
“Honestly, Anamaria, you’ll have to find something bloody better than that for me to swear on.”
“On your love for Will.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
The sound of yet another empty rum bottle hitting the deck filled the air.
“I can’t go through this again. She’s got to get pregnant tonight…”
Charlotte moaned with delight as Will’s tongue swept up her pale, soft inner thigh.
He took a first, tentative lick between her legs. Not bad. A little tangy. Not as salty or earthy as Jack. But not terrible. He gave another lick, delving deeper inside. A stream of juices flowed over his tongue. Will slid a finger into the hot, wet tunnel and turned his palm upward, curling just slightly at the fingertip, and lapped at the hard little nub of nerves.
Now Charlotte was getting louder, and wriggling her hips to get him to move faster. He pursed his lips and worried at the engorged not-quite prick. She liked that. He got bolder in his movements, licked harder, thrust into her with more confidence. The noises from Charlotte grew higher and louder.
Will became paralyzed by the notion that everyone on the island could hear her. He didn’t care if they heard him and Jack, not really. He couldn’t help that. But now everyone would know that it wasn’t just seed donation, that he was really making love to her. He didn’t want them to think he was enjoying it.
Charlotte tugged at his shoulders and pulled him up her body. She’d listened well to the advice of all the other women, and was certain she would get pregnant if she could reach her peak while Will was inside her, and now was the time. If he got into her now she would just have to touch herself a little bit and she would climax at the exact right time.
Will turned his head as it neared Charlotte. He knew his face was smeared with her fluids, and he thought it would be awfully rude to… oh, my, she just grabbed his face and kissed him hard. She didn’t seem to mind at all. She kissed him hungrily, but she pulled away in frustration when she reached down and found… nothing.
“Will…” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, I got worried about people hearing, and I haven’t really been, you know, thinking about Jack, honest, and I don’t know what to …”
“It’s okay, Will. You don’t have to be a gentleman on my account. Go ahead and think about Jack, if it will help. You have me so close; I don’t want to have to wait too long.”
Will nodded, and tried to think about Jack, but he could only picture the look on Jack’s face when he told Will it was all right for him to make Charlotte pregnant. He knew Jack was just being noble, trying to prove how much he cared by showing how much he would give up for Will. The hurt was plain in Jack’s eyes, when he told Will “No, don’t not do it on my account. It’s a family obligation, and far be it from me to…”
“Will, you’re not thinking the right things about Jack!” Charlotte gave an ineffectual tug to the limp organ in her hand. It was still very nice when soft. The skin was silky smooth and the foreskin crinkled in the most delightful manner where it gathered in tiny folds around the base of the wide head. But it wasn’t useful.
Will was getting flustered, and that was going to ruin the whole night. Desperate situations call for desperate measures. “Will, I saw you in the bath.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean, I saw everything in the bath. I saw you get ready for the bath. And Jack. And I saw you get into the bath. And I saw you stand up in the bath.”
There was a sharp intake of breath.
This would either embarrass him to death or make him rock hard, and there was only one way to find out.
“I saw you put your fingers inside yourself.”
Bull’s-eye! Charlotte’s hand was filled with a deliciously hardening cock, twitching and swelling at an alarming rate. She couldn’t stop now. “I saw Jack licking your arse. He was fucking you, wasn’t he? He was fucking you with his tongue…”
Will moaned loudly and bucked his hips. The thought of Jack’s tongue in his arsehole, it made him feel so improper, so wanton, so wanted.
“Tell me how it feels when he puts his tongue inside you.” Charlotte was wriggling her way into position beneath Will, spreading her legs to take him in.
Will grunted something about good and let her position his cock so it rubbed against her dripping opening.
“Don’t cheat, Will. Tell me how it really makes you feel.” This would take him to the very summit, she knew it.
Will concentrated on the memory of Jack’s tongue, only vaguely aware of the slick tunnel opening up around the head of his cock. His tongue felt better than good. It felt like heaven. When Jack speared his tongue and thrust inside, he could feel his muscles go lax and his arse open up. And when he flattened his tongue and swept it over the puckered skin it made Will feel…
“Helpless,” he gasped. “He makes me feel helpless, like I want to surrender to him.”
He sank into her wet heat and groaned.
Just as the door was flung open.
Charlotte pushed Will off her and whipped the discarded blankets up around her naked form with a speed and dexterity learned from countless raids.
Will tumbled back to the end of the bed, his cock hard and shining, jutting up proudly in the dim candlelight.
Two uniformed naval officers were silhouetted in the doorway.
“Avast!” one of them cried out. “This cannot continue!”
Next: Chapter 60 A Serious Situation
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