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Pirates of the Caribbean was a big hit, which I had nothing to do with, and made a lot of money, none of which will ever see the light of my rather pathetic little piggy bank. However, if this were included in the original, it might have made even more money for me to not share in…
The Nature of Desire
Captain Jack Sparrow was stunned. No, he was in actual shock.
One minute he was sitting on the edge of a bed, gazing at a lovely young man and touching his even more lovely, smooth stomach ever so gently; the next minute he was flat on his arse, with said lovely young man looming over him with clenched fists and a decidedly displeased look on his face.
It was amazing how much one’s head could hurt from smacking against a wooden post. Jack braced himself against the post and pushed up, thighs straining as his back slid up the wood. He lurched to one side and landed on a low barrel.
That wonderful, taut belly he’d been stroking was now at approximately eye level, and was topped by a deliciously heaving chest. It was heaving because Will was angry about being touched like that, but Jack liked to think he could set it to heaving for other, entirely more lascivious, reasons.
Will was still yelling on about ‘what right did he have?” and ‘keeping his filthy hands to himself’.
It took every bit of self-control Jack had ever possessed in his entire life to not lean forward, closer to that delightful navel, and fuck it with his tongue.
“Indecent,” Jack heard.
‘Ah,’ Jack thought, ‘So you’re not totally oblivious to my intent.’ Here Jack had been thinking the boy might just be ignorant, did not understand why Jack kept invading his personal space like that. But no, he was acting much like a lady whose rump had been pinched at an inappropriate moment.
The boy was well aware of the sexual response he prompted in Jack. Interesting.
“Lad, calm yourself,” Jack finally said when he regained the ability to speak. Just in the nick of time too. Will had raised one of his fists, which Jack thought made his forearm bulge in a very attractive manner. Attractive or not, though, it would hurt if it connected with Jack’s already throbbing head. “Jus’ trying to help, is all.”
He staggered to his feet, leaning heavily on the post for support. He rubbed the back of his head. “Jesus wept, boy, you’d think I’d violated yer virginity, or something!”
Will stood back, dropped his fists to his sides and slightly unclenched them. That adorable furrow was back between his brows with a vengeance. Hair dishevelled from sleep, chest still heaving, nipples rock hard and begging to be sampled. Jack had to close his eyes for the umpteenth time that night. God, but those pants hugged those slim hips perfectly.
“Then how do you explain your actions?”
Jack opened his eyes. So the boy preferred to be wilfully naïve. Jack could square with that.
“You cried out. I thought it was a nightmare, at first. I came down to see if you were all right and you were tossing, and, uh, moaning. I figure you’re not used to sleeping aboard, savvy? So, I thought I would help.” Jack spread his hands in a gesture of conciliation.
Will stepped further back.
“I hardly see how putting your hands on my…” He looked down, suddenly realizing his partial state of undress. The pants were riding below his waist, so low they almost exposed his jutting hipbones.
Jack’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the path of Will’s. The thin trail of hair got a little wider just above the waistband, guiding the observer further down. Jack wondered how thick the hair might get, how long it would be, how soft it would be at the root of… he coughed and shook his head to clear it.
“Old sea fold remedy, lad. Rubbing the belly helps relieve the sea sickness, don’t you know.”
Will’s frown deepened as he considered this. He had been certain the pirate was trying to take advantage of him. Jack had an unnerving way of leaning in too close and touching him at the most inopportune moments. But perhaps that was just his way.
Jack was making his way to the hatch. Apologetically gesturing as he swayed back and forth. He seemed genuinely contrite.
Perhaps Will had judged him wrong, after all, it was a bit presumptuous to think that the pirate would desire him Just because one touches someone else, it doesn’t mean it’s meant in a sexual way. It might even be arrogant, vain even, to assume…
Maybe Will assumed Jack desired him because Will wanted him to.
Will sat back down on the pallet to think that one through. Could he possibly desire the pirate? He thought he’d only ever loved Elizabeth. In his whole life he’d never even looked at another woman in a sexual manner. Come to think of it, he’d never even looked at Elizabeth in an overtly sexual manner. Yet this filthy, disgusting pirate had filled him with such heat, only a few hours earlier, up on deck.
Standing so close, with his hands on Will’s arms, the look in Jack’s eyes had been scorching. Will had felt that look burn him right down to his toes. He’s responded, to his shame. He’d felt the heat pooling in his groin, felt the flush spread across his face, across his chest, nipples hardening, pants tightening.
All that happened again, as Will remembered Jack’s hand on his cheek. Could he really want to be touched by another man? His body seemed to want it.
Jack leaned over the railing, pulling in great gulps of fresh sea air. He’d got out of that one. Convinced the boy of his innocuous good will. Thankfully. It made him feel lecherous, lusting after the boy. Indecent, indeed.
But his desire remained, unquenched. How many times had he taken himself in hand in the last 24 hours because of that innocent whelp? All because of his resemblance to his father. But it was never enough.
Jack closed his eyes and stood very still. He felt the wind on his face, smelled the ocean, and waited for the vision of Bootstrap Bill to swim into focus.
Bill was smiling, as he so often was. A good man, full of life and vigour, Bill was. But in this vision he was not just smiling for the love of life. No, he was smiling for an altogether more specific and less respectable cause.
Bootstrap reached out and grabbed Jack by the scarf tied around his waist, tugged him closer, so close Jack could feel Bootstrap hardening against his hip. Bill tilted his head and covered Jack’s mouth with his own.
Hot, slick, insistent tongue in Jack’s mouth, probing him thoroughly, demanding entry. Possessing him. Jack’s lips felt swollen as they opened wide; he fought to twist his tongue around the one invading his mouth.
Bootstrap purred deeply and reached around to cup Jack’s arse in one wide, calloused hand. He kept purring as he ground his cock against Jack’s. Jack got progressively dizzy, perhaps from lack of air, or maybe lack of blood to his brain. The scent of ale and spice was heady. Hands roamed all over his body now, and he felt his whole body surrender.
When Bootstrap was in this kind of mood, Jack couldn’t resist. It was like piloting the Black Pearl through a squall. You couldn’t stop it from happening, you just had to hang on for dear life and hope you wouldn’t be broken open on the rocks.
Jack rubbed his sensitive cock against the rail. He’d been so hard he was hurting, ever since he’s felt Will’s chestnut curls tickling his nose. God, the kid smelled so good, and felt even better.
Bootstrap pushed him down onto the bed, tearing at Jack’s clothes until the captain was naked beneath him. Jack looked up with passion-darkened eyes at his lover. So strong and demanding. He wasn’t like this often, but it was well worth the wait.
Hot, intense heat surrounded Jack when Bootstrap swallowed his cock in one dizzying movement. The suction was relentless, brutal even. Jack’s hips bucked up involuntarily, craving completion before things even really got started.
Well, obviously. Watching his lover’s son all day, all night, half-naked with those muscles gleaming in the moonlight, smelling the nutmeg and vanilla, all the while imagining how much spicier and more intense those aromas would get in the heat of passion.
Jack was torn. He didn’t know what to concentrate on. Bootstrap was licking his way up Jack’s body now, tongue flat and wet, licking the sweat and swirling his tongue around Jack’s nipples, along his collarbones, up his neck. Will’s belly had been like satin, smooth and slick but still warm and dry, with that tantalizing line of soft, soft hair. Muscles hard under the supple skin, straining.
Bootstrap won out momentarily, by murmuring, “Yes, Captain Sparrow, you’re mine,” just before he took Jack’s mouth in another furious kiss and rubbed their cocks together. He reached down between them and wrapped his long fingers around both organs, squeezing them together. Fingers slick with spit and pre-come. Sliding over the matching lengths, slipping between them, thumb brushing across the sensitive heads, tugging then pushing them, milking them. Jack moaned out loud, the noise swallowed by Bootstrap’s open mouth, at the same time it echoed over the calm, empty water.
Will climbed up through the hatch, determined to talk to Jack. He wasn’t sure what to say. He though he might apologize for assuming the worst. It wasn’t the pirate’s fault if Will desired him. He thought he might talk with the older man a while, observe his own reactions to see if he really was attracted to the rogue, or if it was just some trick of the night. But what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.
Captain Jack Sparrow was highlighted by the waning moonlight, head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open. He had his cock in his hand, and a rather impressive member it was. His fist worked the length of it in perfect synchronization with Bootstrap’ hand in his mind.
Will felt his own cock harden even more in response to what he witnessed. He felt the urge to rush over and replace Jack’s hand with his own. He wanted to feel the hard length under his fingers, and to make Jack moan.
And Jack did moan, when he reached his climax.
“God, yes, Mr. Turner,” he growled as his semen arced out over the railing and into the sea.
Will swallowed hard and dropped back down below deck.
Next: Chapter 8 Turnaround is Fair Play
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