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This is just a PWP. It has nothing to do with the film Pirates of the Caribbean. In fact, it has precious little, and at the same time everything, to do with The Pirate Way. The frequent cat references are in no way meant to imply that ordinary, everyday housecats get up to this sort of activity. At least mine don’t. Not when I’m watching them at any rate. Nasty felines.
Warning: Extreme foot kink. Seriously.
Toes
Three days and nights of oppressive heat. Three long days of the sun beating down on the Black Pearl. Three long nights of stifling heat. The heavy, humid air had not stirred, the ship could not move. It was beginning to wear down all and sundry.
Now it was raining. Raining with no wind whatsoever. Jack had never seen a windless spell quite like it. Everyone poured out and up onto the deck when the sky opened. The fresh water was lukewarm, but still refreshing. Soon it grew to be as tedious as the previous lack of rain, and delivered precious little relief from the heat. So everyone found shelter to avoid the water that seemed to steam on whatever surface it hit, including human skin.
Jack had a map, and was making the sort of calculations Will did not have the energy to decipher. There were a few odd looking navigational instruments spread out on the table, and Jack was using a dowel notched at regular intervals to measure distances. Will sat on a chest of drawers by the window and watched the rain disrupt the surface of the perfectly still ocean.
Both pirate and blacksmith were bare-chested, clad in trousers alone. It was too hot for boots. It was too hot for shirts. They hadn’t even had sex for the past two nights. They’d just lain on top of the covers and breathed as shallowly as possible to conserve energy. It was too hot for anything.
Will tilted his head back and pretended that the rain had brought a breeze with it.
Jack tried to concentrate on the task at hand, but Will Turner naked from the waist up and knees down, his head pitched so his long throat was exposed in such an evocative fashion, was hard to ignore under the best of circumstances. Under these particular circumstances, in which there was positively nothing else to do other than plot hypothetical courses across seas he could not reach without a wind, it was a ridiculously distracting sight. Jack’s hand juddered and knocked the dowel to the floor.
Will turned his head to look at the source of the noise. Any variation on the utter lethargy of the last three days was welcome.
Jack frowned, and tried his damnedest to look like a cat does when it trips and then pretends it meant to do that all along. He reached out to his right with one foot, calmly grasped the dowel between his big toe and the toe next to it, bent his knee, lifted his leg at the hip, and plucked the dowel from between his toes. Settling his foot back on the floor, he continued his measuring and calculating. Very smooth.
By the time Jack’s foot hit the floor, Will’s eyebrows were raised to somewhere in the vicinity of his hairline. He slid down from the dresser, with the soft thud of a cat that has just woken and is off in search of food, and crossed the room. He drew near the table, flicked his the tip of his forefinger against the pad of his thumb, and struck the dowel, which Jack had been holding loosely between his thumb and forefinger. It clattered to the floor.
“Pick it up,” Will said softly.
Jack was surprised by this, but he didn’t let it show. He shrugged and bent at the waist to retrieve the dowel. Will stopped him with a hand, hard on his shoulder.
“Not that way.”
Jack straightened in the chair, curious as to where this might lead. He stretched out his leg and smirked as he saw the familiar gleam in Will’s eye when his toes curled around the wood. He raised high up and waved the dowel in front of Will’s face. “You like that then, eh?”
Will batted the dowel out from between the toes and grabbed Jack’s ankle. “What else can you do?” It came out all in one breath, panted instead of spoken.
Jack felt his trousers tighten. He shifted in the chair so he could stretch out his foot to meet Will’s chest.
Will gasped when toes closed over his nipple. It was like having fingers tugging on the hardening nub, yet not. Because he knew it was toes, and toes were different from fingers, somehow. His head rolled back, exposing the long column of his throat once more. As much as Jack was enjoying the feel of tense chest muscles and pebbled nipple under his toes, and the little cooing noises Will made so delightfully, the throat was too much to resist. He leapt from the chair and licked from collar bone to chin. Salty.
“Hey…” Will tilted his head back down, so his chin came crashing down on Jack’s nose. Jack whimpered, but only slightly. There was no reason to get upset about a little collision, not when Will was holding his face in his hands and kissing him all over and apologizing.
“No worry, luv, I must have taken you by surprise, eh?” He accepted a final kiss on the tip of his nose.
Will rested his forehead against Jack’s. “My fault. I didn’t want the toes to ever stop.”
Jack grinned and slid his hands down Will’s waist. Will’s trousers were still clammy from earlier, when Will had stood out on the deck in the rain with his head thrown back and mouth open wide. Jack had come close to singing a hallelujah to the rain as he watched. There was nothing quite like the sight of dripping wet Will Turner to make a pirate lusty. Will had returned to the cabin and sat on the dresser for ages though, morose and silent, until Jack had all but given up all hope of amorous activity. Until now.
Will’s skin was so very soft. Must be some trick of the rainwater, Jack thought. He trailed his fingers up and down the curve between ribs and trousers, slid his hands around the back to feel the strong muscles there, and to bring Will’s body closer to his. “I’m not exactly sure what else I can do for you, but I’m willing to try anything,” he drawled.
That shiver was not from the cold. Definitely not. Jack smiled against Will’s neck, where he was nuzzling. Will backed up toward the bed, and Jack followed, licking and nibbling the briny skin of Will’s shoulder. Will stopped when the backs of his legs met solid bed.
Damp trousers stick to skin, Jack soon discovered. He had to drop to his knees to peel the cloth down, exposing golden skin inch by inch. Smooth curved hips. Faintly jutting pelvic bones. The pretty trail of dark hair that led from navel down to thicker curls. Will wriggled his hips impatiently, and Jack realized it was because Will was growing harder while his cock was bent uncomfortably, trapped under the sodden cloth. Jack pulled the material down, winced at that new, even more awkward angle and the little whimper that escaped Will’s lips, pulled the cloth away from his body and carefully pulled out the cock. A sigh of relief followed, as did Will’s hands, pushing the trousers down and off.
Much better. Fully naked Will with his cock pointing straight at Jack’s face. Jack took a moment to savour the view, and to run his hands up and down taut thighs a few times, skin cool where the wet cloth had been. Will jerked his hips, waggling his cock at Jack insistently. Jack gave it a single, tender kiss on the tip and stood up.
Will’s face contorted with frustration.
“Calm yourself, luv, you wanted to see what I could do, savvy? Up on the bed with you, mate.” Jack watched Will clamour onto the bed as he peeled his own trousers off. What a relief. The damp cloth was beginning to chafe where his cock pressed against it so adamantly.
Long legs bent under Will, all lean and hard and glowing a little from the dampness on them, the air too hot to hold any more moisture so it settled on every available surface. It made the sheets distastefully clammy, but Jack forgave that because the sheen on Will’s golden skin more than made up for minor discomfort.
Jack sat at one end of the bed and nudged Will to spread his legs wider. He trailed one foot up an inner thigh. The coarse, dark hairs tickled his toes, and Will’s thighs shook enough for Jack to notice. Jack concentrated on the beautiful member rising up from glossy curls, and the heavy, loose sacs below. He brushed the ball of his foot over bollocks, and was rewarded with a low purr. He rubbed the tip of his big toe along the vein that pulsed along the length of Will’s cock, then across the ridge under the wide head, and Will moaned, “Please.”
That was enough to encourage Jack to be more creative. He stretched his other foot out and gripped the other side of Will’s cock, and then began a steady rhythm, left foot up and right foot down, then switching, all the while kneading the hard shaft with his limber toes. Much thicker than the dowel, much hotter, but the same principle.
Will leaned back on his hands and tried not to make noises that would prove overly embarrassing. Jack’s toes were sublimely nimble, and he wondered how it was possible he’d never noticed that before. Why Jack hadn’t told him before. “You never told me you could…” he panted and whimpered. The knowledge that he had just leaked all over Jack’s big toe made him dizzy. As did the pressure of Jack’s heel on his balls, then dragging down until a slippery big toe nudged at his tight opening.
Will saw Jack staring right at him as he worked his toe in little circles around the puckered flesh. One eyebrow was raised in question. The left foot worked up and down, squeezing, tugging the loose skin of his testicles and then the less loose skin of the shaft, while the right toe pressed lightly, massaged, encouraged. Will took a uneven breath and nodded hard enough to bounce a few curls over his eyes. Jack bit his lip in concentration and curled the rest of his toes against the ball of his foot. He pushed harder, not too hard, and felt the tight muscle give just a little. He slid his left foot up Will’s cock and teased the slit with the pad of his big toe. Will shut his eyes. He pressed his arse down onto Jack’s toe.
Not like a finger at all. Wider than a finger, more agile than a cock. Jack kept flexing his toe rhythmically, so it worked into the clenched ring slowly. Will took deep breaths, trying to relax, to let him in. His hole stretched wider, not nearly as wide as it had to stretch to accommodate Jack’s cock, but this wasn’t a cock was it? Something about it being a toe made the stretch seem more intimate. Debauched. Deliciously dirty. The tension was almost unbearable. He hadn’t felt this nervous since the first time they’d fucked.
Then he purred. And once Will felt the purr rising up from his chest, he knew this was all right. When Jack heard the purr he beamed and twisted his ankle a little so his toe screwed up into Will, and then Will gasped and rumbled and bore down hard until it couldn’t go in any further.
“Jesus, Will,” Jack groaned.
“Oh, fuck,” Will answered and churned his hips. “Fuck!”
Jack increased the pressure on Will’s cock, working the hardened flesh soundly. His toes were cramping, the big one from straining to get up into Will as far as it could and the others from bending down so far. The underside of Will’s arse pressed against them, and Jack just knew there would be the impression of four small toenails in the tender flesh there. He flexed his foot and the toe moved inside Will, rubbing the sensitive skin stretched around it under the pad. Will made a frenzied, high pitched choking sound and Jack felt the ring tighten.
Finally, just when his left calf had begun to smart from the angle and repetition, he slid his left foot up in time to catch the first spout of seed against the bottoms of his toes. Hot and slick. He kept rubbing over the head as Will ejaculated, massaging and coaxing and bringing forth whimpers along with the thick cream. The round head pulsed slower under his toes. Will trembled from head to toe.
Jack blinked. Shocking. He barely registered it when Will’s fingers wrapped around his ankle, and Will struggled to kneel upright. It bent Jack’s foot past a right angle, a little too fast. He lifted Jack’s foot up to his mouth and began to lick the rich white cream off, sucking each toe carefully.
“Will, you can’t… don’t… I can’t….” And it was true. Jack couldn’t stand it, couldn’t take it for long.
Will, of course knew that. He well knew Jack’s weakness for having his toes sucked. Will knew the toe-sucking would drive Jack into a frenzy, and he knew Jack wouldn’t come from it. And he was not letting up. All this time they’d been together, and Jack had never even hinted at the prehensile skills. Remarkably dextrous, for toes. It was unconscionable. He had to be taught some sort of lesson. A lesson about sharing.
And, after all, there was nothing else to do.
Jack writhed and tried in vain to pull his foot away from Will’s insatiable mouth, but he couldn’t get much purchase. His other foot was trapped, big toe still wedged inside Will’s arse, and Will was starting to rock on it, to fuck his hole on it, and Jack was powerless to stop him. He gave up, flopped back on the bed. A loud thud announced the meeting of the back of his head and the shelf, but Will didn’t seem to notice so Jack ignored it too. He twisted to one side so he lay diagonally on the bed, and let out a stream of barely comprehensible syllables, mostly having to do with “no”, “too much” and colourful curses in several languages Will hadn’t even known Jack spoke. He only knew how to curse in most of them, anyway.
Once Will was satisfied he’d completely cleaned Jack’s foot, and that he’d reduced Jack to not much more than a quivering mass, he kissed his ankle and slid his hand up Jack’s thigh in the direction of but not all the way to his cock. It stood up in the air, vibrating.
“I love your cock, Jack,” Will murmured. “It’s so beautiful.”
Jack raised his head a few inches. Had he just heard what he thought he heard? Will Turner would never say such a thing… but then there was Will, writhing around on Jack’s right big toe, and Jack knew it was really happening because the stretch in his calf would have been enough to make an ordinary man cry. The thing was, he couldn’t find it within himself to be ordinary when something this extraordinary was happening.
Will was rubbing his cheek against Jack’s ankle, indulgent and catlike. He grunted a little when Jack managed to bend his toe just so. Nails raked across Jack’s thigh. Eyes dark with lust flickered between Jack’s cock and face.
“I wonder….” Will said slowly, voice heavier than the air around them.
Jack felt a nervous twitch beside his left eye.
“… if I could…” Will extended his tongue and licked Jack’s calf, flattening black hairs against skin. “Without even touching your cock.”
Oh. My.
Jack slid his foot down and pinched a sharp nipple with his toes. Will gave him a smile he’d never seen before. And hoped he would see many times more. It was nasty in the nicest possible way. Will was hard again, already, as if he’d never come all over Jack’s foot. It prompted Jack to think of his own shocking lack of release. Will bounced a few times. Dangerously close to breaking Jack’s toe, and Jack knew he should care but all he could do was let out a huff of hot air.
Will lifted himself carefully. Jack sighed in disappointment when his toe was wrenched from the tight warmth of Will’s arse. The contraction of the bottom of his foot when the rest of his toes straightened made him gasp. Will pushed Jack’s left foot down and bent his right leg up. He shuffled forward and to the side, so he was straddling Jack’s straight leg. He settled on Jack’s knee. Jack closed his eyes.
Well. That was something he’d never even thought of. Will wriggled until his hole was right over the bony part of Jack’s knee. Open. Hot. What the hell? He was rubbing it over Jack’s knee, and knees were not supposed to feel like that. Maybe the back of a knee, when it was nibbled or kissed, but the front of a knee? It was possibly the least sexual body part imaginable. Only if you’d never had Will Turner rubbing his heated arsehole over it, Jack supposed. He could only moan and look up through slitted eyes.
Will sighed, lashes all fluttery and dark, and turned his head. God, no, Jack thought, not the toe. Not the same toe I just had in your… fuck!
Will sucked and tasted himself, sharp and unrefined and a little sour. He wished Jack could do that thing with his toes on his nipples again, but he had the one foot in his mouth and the other leg was quite occupied. He dragged his arsehole over the bumps of Jack’s knee. It was enflamed, desperate for more contact, the sensitive puckered skin begged for friction.
Jack’s moans were getting higher. That only happened when Will took absolute control like this. It was a heady feeling. Power. The power to give Jack so much pleasure he couldn’t think. A dangerous power, but Will trusted himself not to abuse it.
The pressure was excruciating. Jack needed something. A hand on his cock. Yes, that would do the trick. But his own hands clenched the sheets so tightly he couldn’t move them. He opened his mouth to beg Will to touch his cock. The words got slurred, jumbled somehow. He must have said the wrong thing, because Will wasn’t touching Jack’s cock. He was touching his own cock. He was rocking on Jack’s knee, and stroking his cock. At the same time, he was still sucking Jack’s toe, and his other hand was gripping Jack’s hip. Close, but not close enough. Jack tried again to ask, beg, plead, entreat… it was no good. It only served to speed Will’s hand.
Will was consumed by an idea. He couldn’t articulate it, but he felt it nonetheless. He needed to spend, he needed to explode. He jerked forward. Jack’s foot slid from his mouth and over his shoulder. The air, still hot enough to be humid, felt relatively cool against his overworked arsehole. He worked his cock harder, faster, and his forearm slapped wetly against the sweaty back of Jack’s thigh. Repeatedly.
Jack managed to free one hand from its death grip on the bedding, and was shocked when it rose to clasp Will’s wrist beside his hip, rather than his own cock. That wasn’t what he’d intended. Will purred harshly, like a growl, and stroked his cock one last time before holding it steady, and aiming it.
The first splash of wet heat hit the underside of Jack’s cock, just below the head. Jack reared up in shock as his cock stiffened under the assault. Another spatter of lava and Jack was spilling onto his stomach, gritting his teeth from the ache of his long-awaited release. It was far too intense to call a mere orgasm. Perhaps a revelation. Maybe some sort of apocalypse.
The next thing he knew, Will was on him, all over him. A hot tongue lapped at him, hungry kitten licks, lapping up their seed, rasping across his sensitive cock, swirling over his belly, nipping at his chest. Licking his lips.
“Lethal,” Jack muttered against Will’s mouth. “That was almost mutiny.”
“You never told me you could do that.”
“Was I supposed to?”
“That will teach you to hide things from me,” Will sighed.
“I didn’t hide anything!” Jack protested. “I was merely waiting for the opportune moment to reveal my prodigiously skilled toes. Don’t say you didn’t enjoy them, luv.”
Will plastered his body across Jack’s. The sweat between them made him slide a little to one side. The ship had listed slightly, the result of a mild breeze.
The Pearl would move again soon.
Next: Chapter 78 Experimentation
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