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Title: In the Hands of a Pirate In the Hands of a Pirate * * * Sparrow heard the jangle of keys and the
clank as the lock turned. He opened his eyes a crack and prepared himself.
Surely this had to be Will, come to spring him so they could be off to the Instead, the voice that reached his ears had the stiff, opulent tones of
Commodore James Norrington. "I would speak with you, pirate." Jack opened his eyes enough so that Norrington could see he was awake.
He raised himself on one elbow. "Not afraid of soilin' yerself, are ye, boy?" Norrington lashed out with a hard left fist, the blow rocking Jack's
head and causing his mouth to bleed a little. "You will speak when you are
spoken to, pirate." Jack grinned ferally, the blood suddenly pounding in his ears. He hanged
tomorrow; what did he care if he was beat up when it happened? Norrington would
not have the satisfaction of winning tonight since he would win tomorrow. Truth be told, Jack was disappointed that neither Will nor the crew of
the He glanced up to see that Norrington was glaring at him in the
half-light from the torch outside his cell. Something about the look made Jack
get to his feet. As he got closer, he could smell alcohol on the Commodore's
breath. He was almost sure that Norrington only indulged in an occasional
claret or brandy—which made the smell of rum all the more enticing on his
breath. "Ye didn't come t' just stare, Commodore, did ye? What is it ye be
wantin'? If I'm t' hang on the morrow, I'll need my beauty sleep so's I can
leave a pretty corpse." Jack braced himself for another blow. When it came,
Jack dodged out of the way and seized the wrist. Norrington tried to pull away but, to his horror, Sparrow held his wrist
hard. "Release me at once!" Sparrow chuckled, the sound entirely too haughty for a man facing a sure
end at dawn. "I could ask the same of you, lad." Looking into the dark eyes, Norrington became aware that Sparrow was at
once older than he yet seemed almost a child in many ways. The look, however,
that strayed from Norrington's eyes to his lips was far from child-like. "I know yer type, Norrington. Ye pretend ye're somehow superior to me
but the truth is ye'd give anythin' to let yerself be just like me even fer
jus' one day." Sparrow's grip transferred from Norrington's wrist to his
shirtfront, holding the officer with the power of his eyes alone. "We could run
off together, ye know. I know where we could find some lads to help us crew
that nice big boat o' yers. Ye'd make a fine pirate and a bloody good scalawag,
ye know." The expression on Sparrow's face, teasing, lustful yet arrogant and
intrigued made the Commodore begin to tremble like a simpering girl-child. He
pushed away from Sparrow. "Vile, disgusting creature!" "Aye," Jack said with a wicked grin. "An' that's exactly what ye're
lookin' fer tonight, love. The future Mrs. Norrington's a proper lady, o'
course, so she's off limits. Ye wouldn't be caught dead wi' one of the local
ladies of ill repute. An' if yer men found out ye were lustin' after no less a
person than a pirate—this pirate—ye'd be ruint. I'm dyin' tomorrow an' even if
I told ever'one, they'd not believe me. So here ye are." Norrington said nothing for several minutes. How could the damned
buffoon understand him so much better than he himself did? Without warning, the
Commodore grabbed Sparrow and jammed his mouth onto the sensually grinning lips
of the pirate. Sparrow slammed his knee into Norrington's groin and shoved him
backwards. The Commodore slumped against the cell door and struggled to get his
breath. The pirate approached and backhanded him. "Ye'll not be treatin' me in that manner, boy. I won't stand fer it. I
may be a bloody pirate an' a scoundrel but I'm no whore fer the likes o' you."
Jack paced the cell like a cat on the prowl. "No wonder 'Lizabeff prefers Will.
Have you no soul, man? No romance? Thunderation, Norrie, ye got t' treat yer
lovers with respect. Like this." Norrington stiffened, pulling away when the pirate was suddenly within
inches of him, their chests brushing. Trapped against the cell door, Norrington
exhaled to keep from touching the pirate. Sparrow gently began to trace his
fingers along Norrington's jaw and pressed against the officer. Norrington
swallowed hard, totally unsure how to proceed. Jack reached out and teased off
the powdered wig, revealing sweat-dampened, chestnut brown curls. "By Poseidon's beard, man, ye're beautiful without that white squirrel
tail ye wear. Ye got such a sweet face and lovely blue eyes. An' that mouth, so
kissable," To the Commodore's amazement, Jack Sparrow's lips were soft and hot
against his. His knees went weak and he slid down to sit on the floor. Sparrow
knelt beside him. "Don't be a coward, love. I promise not to hurt ye . . . too
much." Norrington was grateful that he was on the ground when Sparrow's hand
found his breeches and began to unbutton them. Somewhere in the back of his
mind, he wondered what he would do if they would be discovered but, at the
moment, his mind was focused almost entirely on sensation. Sparrow shifted
position so that he straddled Norrington's lap. The pirate's tongue probed
Norrington's mouth gently then he raised his head a bit. "Norrie, ye need to help out a bit here now. It takes two sides, ye
know, to engage in combat or in love. If ye'll note, I have yer breeches
'breeched', as it were. Ye need to return the favor now, love. Do it slow an'
careful, love. My guess is yer new missus will appreciate a slower hand." For a moment, Norrington wasn't sure who he was speaking of, then he
remembered Jack gave him an amused look. "O' course not, Norrie. I'm doin' this
'cause I'm curious. If the bonnie lass gets some benefit from it, it won't
break me heart, though. I do care fer her—she's got some fire in that bodice,
as well as other charms." James Norrington blushed, feeling a modicum of irritation that Sparrow
felt so free to make such a comment. The irritation died when Sparrow seized
his hand and placed it on the opening to his breeches. The pirate's voice
purred in his ear. "Ye have yer orders, whelp." As his hands fumbled unfamiliarly with the laces that held Jack's
trousers on, he became aware that Sparrow was rubbing himself against those
hands. He thought briefly, very briefly, about protesting but the pirate was
doing extraordinary things with his mouth to Norrington's ear and neck so he
kept silent and applied himself to his task with diligence. Within seconds, the
breeches were open and Jack's cock pushed into his hand. For a moment,
Norrington jerked away but Sparrow grabbed his hand and returned it to his
member. "Ye got to give to get, Norrie. An', believe me, ye'll be wantin' to get
what Captain Jack Sparrow has to give, love." His mouth returned to
Norrington's, the tongue invading the Commodore mercilessly. At long last, he
heard the sound he'd been waiting for: Norrington groaned. Jack stopped kissing
and pushed back. "Finally, boy. What are you, made of marble?" Jack glanced down at Norrington's manhood as it stood out from the
opening of his breeches. He flashed a grin. "Well, it's a nice color for marble
with some pretty veining. Not t' mention that it's pretty damn hard. But I
doubt it be cold." Jack reached down and grabbed the penis. Norrington gasped. "Hmmm, I was
right, tain't cold. It's nice an' hot, just the temperature I like." "Please," Norrington said suddenly. "Please? Please what?" Norrington's blue eyes met his soulfully but Jack would have none of it.
"If ye don't tell yer lover what ye want done, whelp, don't be angry if ye
don't get it. Now, out with it, boy. Ye want to be fucked or to fuck me? An'
hurry, we ain't got all night—Oh, wait, that's _all_ we got. Seems I got a dawn
date with a noose. Well?" Norrington hesitated. After a moment, he said, "I outrank you, therefore
I should fuck you." Jack rolled his eyes though a ghost of a grin curved his lips
pleasantly. "Very well, Commodore. I shoulda known not t' give one o' the
King's officers a choice. Ready to dock?" Norrington closed his eyes. "Please refrain from the use of naval
terminology. I-I find it disconcerting." Jack leaned over, his hot breath brushing Norrington's ear. "Ye think
too much, Norrie. Did ye bring some grease?" To Jack's amazement, Norrington fumbled in the pocket of his trousers
and pulled out a little pot of goose-grease. Jack smiled evilly. "You scalawag!
You planned this all along. Can--." "Sh," Norrington said suddenly, a wicked leer lighting his own face.
"You talk too much. Let me work. That's an order, Captain." Taken aback, Jack fell silent. He felt Norrington's hands move around to
begin exploring his ass, his strong though lightly callused fingers eventually
pressing up into him, preparing him for what was to come. The grease eased the
way most effectively and, within a few minutes, Jack had maneuvered himself
into position to be "boarded," his legs still straddling Norrington's lap but
with his back to Norrington's front. To his further shock, Norrington was
extremely gentle as he entered. When the Commodore reached around to take
Jack's manhood in his hand, Jack sighed and leaned back to rest against the
Commodore's broad chest. Norrington let the pirate do most of the work. Sparrow set up a rhythmic
rocking, like being at sea, and the Commodore understood that they neither one
were truly happy on land. The pirate drew the Commodore's face forward a bit
and their lips met. Norrington nibbled and sucked gently at the pirate's
responsive tongue, his hand moving lightly on the pirate's cock, almost as if
on the hilt of his sword. He could hear the pirate humming, occasionally
punctuated by sighs or groans, that told him they were both moving in the right
direction. He suddenly clutched a hand onto Sparrow's belly, pulling him hard
against him, when he thought he heard boot steps on the stair. But the fear
brought with it a peculiar excitement that made his cock leap in response. As a
result, when the pirate's penis twitched involuntarily and the come spilled
over his hand and onto the floor, white, thick and creamy, his own member
responded in kind as he reached the apex of his thrust into Jack. He heard the
pirate cry out a name as his head rocked back onto his own shoulder in ecstasy
that, at once, shocked him but confirmed his own suspicions. "William!" So the blacksmith had the pirate's heart. Having seen how Mr. Turner
looked at Jack slumped back against the Commodore, feeling the cock slipping out
of him with a little whimper of regret. After drinking (and, with the right
party, before drinking), sex was absolutely one of his most favorite
activities. In his ear, the Commodore spoke quietly. "I suspected you had feelings for Mr. Turner but I assumed they were
platonic or familial." Jack laughed softly, knowing that Norrington was going to hurt him now.
The Commodore had to. There had been too much tenderness and fellow-feeling in
what had just transpired (previous blows to each other's faces notwithstanding)
for Norrington to be comfortable just walking away. He felt tears rising in his
eyes and he began to pull away from the officer. "Did ye now? Well, ye could
let me out of this stinkin' cell so I could steal the lad away." "No," Norrington said, tucking himself inside and re-fastening his
breeches. He fetched the wig from its resting place in the corner of the cell
and wobbled to his feet. The rum and the climax left him feeling a bit more
than unsteady but he had to get back to his quarters before he was discovered.
There was no truly proper explanation for the Commodore to be in this
prisoner's cell. He realized that Sparrow was still slumped on the floor though
his breeches were now closed. To Jack's amazement, a strong hand reached down to take his and pulled
him to his feet. He looked up into the Commodore's eyes and, unaccountably,
Norrington smiled slightly. "I am bound by the law, Captain Sparrow, unfortunately. Should, however,
someone arrange an escape for you, the Dauntless is not nearly as fast as the
Black Pearl. Bear that in mind." Jack blinked then leaned up and kissed Norrington, chastely, on the
mouth. The Commodore stepped back, his cool reserve dropped into place, and he
left the cell without another word. Jack, feeling a bit on the wobbly side
himself from what had just happened, made himself comfortable on a pile of
straw in the corner and hummed himself to sleep, wondering if a Commodore would
take it into his pretty, dark-haired head to turn pirate just once in his life. |