Give me Love, Give me Life

IF YOU HAVE NOT READ AFTER THE BOYS OF SUMMER HAVE GONE... YOU SHOULD READ THAT FIRST


TITLE: ABH- Give me Love, Give me Life
Part 1 of ?
PAIRING JS/OF
RATING NC-17

DISCLAIMERS:
I sorely wished I owned Jack and his compatriots, but I do not. I am only
borrowing them and will returned them relatively unscathed. Go see the
movie! Give them MORE money. Everyone say SEQUEL!

ARCHIVE INSTRUCTIONS: Will be archived eventually at wildbadgers.net.
Anyone else must
ask first please.

AUTHOR NOTES: This is part two to a previous ABH that I did called After
the Boys of Summer. If you have NOT read that one, please read it first so
you understand the characters and where things are coming from and how they
started. You all wanted a bit o' adventure, and more romance. So this I am
all striving for. I figured in the first part I would start with a bit o
smut since I made you wait the first time. Later on I will be add a third
person storyline for Jack's benefit later on due to situations that will be
developing. I have quite a lot planned for Jack and company and if anyone
has any ideas on how to get a name in for the lady, let me know. This is
going to be tough to keep her completely unnamed, since I know where this
story is headed. Egads!

The text in < > is supposed to be French, but I have not been able to get an
accurate translation yet, but am working on it. And I can not for the life
of me write heavy french accent, so use your imagination.

This is unbetaed. Just because Im feeling impatient, and due to life this
has been a long time coming out.

This is an ABH (Anywhere but here), but a longer one then the
ones normally done. To reiterate, this is a story done in the SECOND person, (sorry I had late night typoed first to begin with)
as if you the reader are relating or reliving the story.

If any mates notice glaring errors let me know, and I shall be updating it.
I would love feedback. ITs been a while
since Ive written much so Im a bit rusty. Takamesames and visit old hobs
with em ye scabberous dogs!

PART ONE


His kisses were deep and longing and his hands were that familiar yet
strange combination of smooth and rough as they flowed over the skin of your
body. He slipped himself into you easily, the sword in the sheath, a
perfect and comfortable fit. His hands held yours down, crossed at the
wrist and above your head, claiming your willing body as he did almost every
night and sometimes during the day. You rose to meet his every thrust, the
longing more then you could possibly take, until you screamed his name,
wanting him to take you over the edge into paradise.

“JACK!” You sat bolt upright, sweating. Looking around the room of your
villa, still dark in the pre-morning hours, you realize that is but another
dream. You didn’t know whether to love the dreams or hate them. At least
in the dreams you had a few more moments with your pirate lover, Captain
Jack Sparrow, but as always, it left you tingling with that unfulfilled
desire and that aching loneliness when you awoke.

It had been almost three weeks since Jack had left again, returning to his
life on the high seas. You reached down between your breasts to the new
silver chain around your neck, and the sapphire ring that hung on it there.
He had insisted you keep his precious band, and of course he kept his new
hair ornaments made from what used to be your necklace.

Six glorious and utterly surprising weeks you had spent with Jack before he
was called to leave upon that business which pirates do, and what a six
weeks it was. It ended up being nothing like you expected it to be. Nothing
in your life would ever be the same after that short time with him. You had
come to realize that head over heels could not even begin to describe what
you felt for Jack Sparrow. He was your one, and while you could never be
sure exactly what the pirate really felt for you, you knew from that six
weeks that at least a part of him just maybe felt something real back.

The long road of your realization of just how deeply you had fallen for the
buccaneer started the moment he had enclosed your hand in his and literally
swept you off your feet. He clutched you to his body, kissing you like a
man finally given sweet water after being denied drink and parched for too
long, his strides long and determined as he whisked you inside as if he
carried nothing at all.

You were surprised to see Miss Ester waiting just inside the door in your
room, and with a small smile nonetheless. She must have known he had come,
and let him in, and had been preparing all this time. While the older woman
had not been thrilled with the idea of the pirate after your initial flight
with the Sparrow many months ago, and had seemed happy when he had left the
first time, your sober moods and more solitary demeanor after he had gone
did not go unnoticed. It must have meant something to the lady when Jack
had actually made the effort to find you and returned (one of the things she
insisted to you that someone of his caliber would not do). Or maybe it
meant something to her that if even for a short while in your tumultuous
life you might have some true happiness if even only for a brief instant.

Jack set your down carefully upon your feet in the center of the room,
keeping his arms wrapped around you, spooned close against you his head next
to yours. “Miss Ester,” he said in his drawn out eloquent way, “if you
would be so kind. Its been a long stretch gettin’ ‘ere, and I am pro’lly
just a tad too smarmy for decent company. Perchance would you have any hot
water handy fer washin’ up?”

With a small curtsey and a knowing tone she replied, “I think I have some
about ready now, sir,” and with a swirl of skirts and petticoats left the
room. Your long time servant’s answer only confirmed your suspicion that
Jack had been let in, and not snuck in.

“Jack,” you said, twisting in his arms,” I don’t have the same fancy
accoutrements here that I did the last time we met. The imports here aren’t
quite as numerous as Port Jarvis. My big porcelain tub is no more. Merely
a small wooden tub here.” You motioned to a roundish half-barrel wooden
horse trough in the corner that you used for your washing.

Jack pursed his as as if in deep thought, staring at the large basin, his
long finger softly tapping against them. He let go of you and slowly paced
over to it, studying it as if it were some great work or puzzle to be
contemplated. With a melodramatic flourish wave of his hand he, whirled
back, his sash and hair flying. “It’s still bigger then mine on the Pearl.
It’ll do me just fine, Im sure.”

He tossed his battered hat off onto the end of your bed, and without taking
his eyes from you, lifted the leather cross buckler that held his cutlass
from across his chest. He hung that on the edge of the simple chair that
sat before your writing desk. His pistol as set with a thunk on the top of
the desk. His fingers deftly unwrapped the long tail of the waist belt that
looped over and around in a holding knot before the large metal buckle. The
long strap of leather was quickly pulled out from the buckle and pin, and
set on the seat of the chair.

You watched, mouth slightly agape in growing longing as Janwounwound the
same worn long red and white linen sash that he still sported to help buffer
the heavy cutting leather belt. That just fell to the floor in a silent
puddle. He slid his arms out of the 12 button long vest and folded in half
to set on the back of the growing burdened seat.

His heavy boot heels scuffling and thumping ever so slightly on your stone
floor, Jack stepped back to you, his fingers resting lightly on the frilly
edges of the housecoat on your shoulders that had once hid his effects a few
months back from the soldiers eyes. “Wouldn’t want to get this too wet,”
you scarcely heard him murmur. He played with the delicate lace briefly
between his pads, before taking the fabric it was attached to more firmly
and drawing it back off your arms. The green flowered garment landed with a
rustle on the floor. “Did ye miss me?” Jack asked out the blue, tracing
his finger on your skin around the neckline of the chemise that remained,
and up your neck to your cheek.

“Yes,” you heard yourself breathe, almost lost in his dark, clouded eyes
that you couldn’t drag yourself away from. A firm hand on your hip, and a
quickstep up, and Jack was body to body with you. His breath was hot on your
face as his lips stopped just a hairsbreadth from yours. You completed the
contact, taking the pirates soft lips with your own. His moustache and beard
tickled pleasantly against your sensitive skin as lips parted and you
relished that addicting taste that was Jack’s kiss. His hands roamed up
your sides to cup under your breasts through the chemise.

You barely heard the knock on your door and the creak of the jam as it
opened. There was a discreet silence until Jack reluctantly pulled away
from the deep kiss, but not once taking his eyes from yours once they opened

“Ma’am?” You heard Ester warily inquire, and looked away over his shoulder
to see her silhouetted in the doorway with a large steaming bucket. “I have
young Tom with more water on the way for Mr. Sparrow’s wash.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Young Tom?”

You smiled reassuringly. “Orphan boy I have taken in for my service. Good
lad. He will be of no harm. Knows naught about your true profession. You
will be but a merchant sailor that I have a fancy for in his knowledge.”

“Well then,” Jack said, and regretfully unwrapped himself from your arms, ”
there be business at hand to take care of first. And then,” he pulled his
linen shirt off and flung it aside, striding over and taking the heavy
bucket from Ester, “I expect to be taking care of your business for a long,
long time.” Jack directed his attention back to the house servant. “Lady
Ester, I expect the lady to be late rising in the morrow, and quite
indisposed to normal business probably for most of the day. Can you ensure
that refreshments are routinely left for our…her leisure?”

“Quite discreetly milord,” the clipped voice of the maid concurred, all well
knowing what the intentions of her lady and the lover were to be and what
her duties were to entail.

Jack turned back to you and flashing that disarming smile of his, inquired,
“So ye never did answer me.”

“About what?”

“Me back…”

That was but the start of a long and exhausting, but extremely pleasurable
night.

Jack would keep a low profile for the most part, going under the name John
William Smithy. He seemed to get some sort of giggle over the false
identity, but wouldn’t elaborate any further on it. . While he had put his
life on temporary hold so it seemed, it wasn’t something you could quite do.
He just couldn’t stay in complete anonymity while with you, so after that
night and most of a day of wonderful re-acquaintance, you had to resume more
or less your normal routine, except with a pirate in the background.

At first you were very concerned about his safety out in the city. Jack had
laughed at you as you expressed your concerns, squeezing you tighter against
his chest as you lay together in the bed after that wonderful day of
lovemaking. It was not mocking laughter, or out of callousness, but one of
amusement, as you would at a child who said the most misguided honest
statement.

“Don’t you be frettin’ that much o’er the likes of me here, luv,” he finally
said after his good chuckle. The pirate sighed contentedly, and kissed the
top of your head. “Do you even hazard to guess how many pirates and like
ilk wander the streets of this and most towns in these waters? As tempting
as it can be, we cant all live in Tortuga all the time. Even for there we
would be too much for the dear place.” He went on to say that this was the
Caribbean, and if the buccaneers were smart, life went on without too much
incident. Just try not to do anything STUPID. He liked to emphasize that
last word a lot as if it had some hidden secret meaning to him. “Besides,
if the not too sharp rabble get themselves in trouble, they distract the
guard, satisfy the hangman’s quota, and keep the eyes from the rest of us.”

His assurances were tested that afternoon when he stated loudly and without
room for argument that he was escorting you to your current ‘workplace’.
“There be a good storm a comin’ in anyway from what I can see, so I don’t
know when I’ll get the chance for a bit of the nip once it hits. The big
ones can last a few days and ye don’t really want to be going out in them.
But I can think of lots of other things to keep me occupied,” he crooned
suggestively. “But I’d rather spend it watching you tonight then some other
fat, sweaty drunkard getting sick in his own boots, ” he commented while
giving you a half grin half leer. You weren’t quite sure how to take that,
and just snapped your mouth shut, knowing better then to question the odd
musings of the pirate.

The walk over was pleasant. It was early evening, or late afternoon,
depending on whom you asked. The sun was setting, the indentured were
heading home or out, and the townsfolk were closing up their shops. From
the windows of some of the homes was a warm glow of oil lamps as the
twilight arrived, and out wafted a mixture of mouthwatering aromas as
evening meals were readied.

A few hundred people lived in the town, in a variety of homes and shops.
Your new home was a small, French governed settlement, on a slightly out of
the way island. It was the French government’s attempt to keep up with the
English in control of the many islands that dotted the Caribbean. The
English still had a firm grip on a vast part the Caribbean, and under the
edict of the French crown, their own strongholds were being cultivated to
keep in step with the other trading countries of Europe. The settlement
itself used to be an occasional Spanish outpost, a weigh station for the
plunder they took from the new world to take back to the old one. Through
some political placating for some aristocratic slight, the Spanish had
surrendered it over to the French without much of a peep.

Much of the flavor of the town still had that Spanish influence. The main
streets were roughly cobble stoned, but many of the newer side streets were
still dirt and mud. The Governors mansion was a new construction, set up
at the base of a large towering hill, above the regular town, that started a
line of small rocky outcroppings akin to small mountains. Thick forest and
jungle coated the land further inward, but the land directly around the new
house had been stripped of its vegetation. The Governor had been using the
forests behind his mansion for lumber, planning to convert the land into
either his own personal playground, or sell it off for farming.

You yourself had purchased a small villa that had been leftover from some
Spanish gentry that had fled when the takeover was near. You were located
on the far side of the harbor, above the main town line. As most port towns
went, the further inland you got the more upscale the amenities became.
This one, being relatively new, was still a simple place. Even being out
of the way, it still got a fair load of trade and traffic, as the Governor
was trying to, in your opinion, turn this into his own miniature France.

While Jack was given the leery eyeball from the entire building the first
time he walked in with you on his arm at your inn of the moment, they
probably didn’t think outlaw at the time. Jack was very
un-pirate like in the fact that he was clean, without his customary kohl and
in mostly fresh clothing; shirt, breeches, and a handsome dark green
overcoat. He insisted on keeping his red and white sash, vest and headgear.
He had brought with him this gold topped walking stick, which he claimed he
acquired on Tortuga a couple years back.

You thought he looked rather smart, even with the tattered cloth under belt
and weathered leather hat, and swore you saw some interested eyes as he
sauntered in with you, sliding into a seat near the front side. Jack could
have almost passed as any merchant from Europe, if it were not for his
wildly adorned hair and treasure-laden smile. He ordered a huge flagon of
ale, and happily settled back as you went about your business.

After your normal bit of schmoozing with the clientele, and dodging a few
questions as to your new friend’s identity, you started your ‘show’ with a
few audience arousing singalongs, like Roll Your Leg Over, and some other
bawdy tavern fair that drew the new folks in and gave the experienced folks
a basis to participate and get some of their energy out before you went solo
and needed a quieter more serene atmosphere.

It was about halfway through your performance, your fortitude was challenged
when you noticed several nubile young ladies join your escort on his bench,
flirting and pawing at him. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Jack
eat it up, laughing and smiling, and speaking in hushed tones during a short
break where you had planned to switch and your play on your harp. You dared
not go over, filled with an apprehension that concerned you and occupied
yourself with talking with some of your ardent drunk male fans as you
usually did. It helped the coin fall more generously into the large clay
cup you passed around at the end.

Part of you cringed, part of you angered, and part of you knew that this is
what he was. Did you really expect Jack Sparrow to toss his wayward life
out the window for the likes of you? He was a true free spirit, as solid and
sturdy as the foam that rolled in from the ocean. You were just the beach
that it landed on this day, and with the rolling waves that beach would
change. Spirits and foam and waves could not be held back nor chained down.
The reasonable part of you won out. Be thankful to be the beach today, you
thought. You strove to ignore it as you went on with your music, instead
keeping to an upbeat and more boisterous set to distract you. .

When you did start to play again, he quieted the girls and paid rapt
attention, and this made you smile in your heart just a bit. Your final
song that night was your only slower one for that evening, Come by the
Hills. You picked it out gracefully on your harp, a pretty little ditty
that just called out for you to play. The final line of each verse seemed
to be what you needed to focus on: And cares of tomorrow must wait until
this day is done.

The whole room quieted for it, and from the corner of your eye, you saw Jack
watching you intently, each arm draped over a girl, but his focus was on
you. It was in his eyes, those dark expressive eyes, you saw it, that same
look he had given you that first time you met him, full of appreciation and
what you knew now to be a fiery desire. When you had finished and the last
harp string had silenced, he was the first to beat his now fifth large empty
tankard on the table in appreciation as you took your bows and collected
your coins.

One of the inn keep’s children took your harp back into its corner, and you
hesitantly went over to the table where Jack sat. He sprung up, and swept
his arm towards you. “Ladies, let me introduce you to me woman. As I have
told others in the past, I swear she is an angel on this ‘arth.”

His woman? Your eyebrows rose.

Jack just grinned, and ushered the girls out with a kiss to their hands.
“It was a pleasure ‘aving your company, but now I have things to attend to.”
The girls ‘awed’ a bit but wandered off, smiling.

One of them leaned in close as she passed and whispered,” I envy your
fortunes, milady.” Your fortunes? His woman? This was quite strange and
almost unnerving, you thought as you sat down, lef left you in quite the
perplexed state as you reached for your customary glass of wine after it was
set in front of you.

Jack didn’t say a word and just sat transfixed as you drained your drink.
He seemed amused; silent laughter played across his face.

“What?” You finally asked.

“I was just waiting,” he replied, reaching over and brushing back a tendril
of your hair that had fallen loose and draped across your cheek.

Your red flags started waving in the back of head and you suspiciously
eyeballed him. “Waiting for what?”

Jack scooted closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. He softly
kissed your neck, right under the ear, where he knew you really liked it,
and murmured,” To be slapped, chastised, or something akin to being in
trouble. Ye aint said a word yet.”

The light touch of his lips to your skin sent shivers down your spine, and
you had to take a deep breath before you could answer. “Slap you because of
the girls? Do I look like a common dolt, Jack? Why should I get angry?
What good would it do for me? You’re a pirate.”

“Right now I’m your pirate as they might say,” he chuckled.

“Yes, let them say what they want, but do you think I would try to expect
more then I know you can give? You have done nothing but treat me well and
respectfully, but I know you do what’s best by you, and I can ask for
nothing more then that.”

Jack’s eyes widened in shock at your statement. He sat back and looked you
up and down quizzically.

“What now?” you asked again, a bit more perturbed this time, unsure how to
take his reactions.

“Are you SURE you warnt a pirate at some point in your life?”

“I’m pretty sure on that account, Jack. What ever would give you the idea
that I was a pirate?”

“It’s just… you just… I would have sworn…,” he faltered, then licking his
lips to dampen them, he blurted out pointing a finger in your direction,
“You keep surprising me woman. That’s all. Was yer father a pirate at one
time perhaps?”

You laughed, “No, Mr. Sparrow. He hated ocean travel himself, being very
prone to seasickness, which thankfully, I am not.” Ironic that what he
hated finally took him, you thought.

“You, milady,” he said, taking your hand and bringing it briefly to his
lips,” are a treasure, if I haven’t mentioned that before, but I think I
have. Ye just seem to need a bit’o remindin’ every now an’ again, I think.”

You blushed at his offhanded compliment, still confused at your
conversation, but figured that you weren’t going to get a straight answer
from the rogue. He was off in own special place, on his own line of
thought, and it was just easier if you didn’t understand at the moment. He
disrupted any further thoughts in your mind when he pulled you in close,
catching you up in a deep, impassioned kiss.

“I want to go home… with you. Now! ,”Jack breathed hotly in your ear. “I
want to ravage every blasted inch of your coastline, repeatedly, greedy
bastard that I am.”

You shivered as an excited chill raced up and down your spine. You knew
that many eyes were on you right now in this very public display of
affection, but this was just an inn and pub and not the governor’s house.
People did this all the time with the wenches, but you weren’t a wench or a
person they would have thought of as doing this sort of thing. Wiping that
from your mind you turned your head to catch his lips again. Jack
practically yanked you up into his lap, and you could immediately tell by
the hard bulge in his trousers pressed against your posterior, that he could
have ravaged your coastline right there and now on the table.

When the two of you parted, you knew you had to be as flushed and breathless
as Jack was, his dark brown eyes practically blazing. Slamming his leather
hat upon his head and grabbing his cane, Jack took your arm and scooted out,
trailing you behind him. His intentions to the rest of the world was
probably quite obvious after your brief show, and the crowd seemed to part
for him as he approached, a mixture of mostly approving or envious and the
occasional mortified expression on their faces.

Oh, the hell you would face the next time you came into the inn, but it was
well worth it, you thought. You were barely able to grab your shawl as you
passed the hooks at the door as Jack stormed out.

“Jack,” you gasped, struggling to throw the crocheted covering over you as
he half ran, his fingers digging into your arm. “Slow down. I would like
to keep some of my flesh on me. We can make it home in due time.”

The pirate glanced over, an odd anxious mixture of emotions on his face, and
he stopped dead in the street and looked around. “Not in due enough time
for me luv,” he drawled out, his eyes searching for something. Seeing
whatever it was he wanted, Jack snapped his fingers and started off again,
this time clenching your hand rather then your forearm.

When Jack led you into a dark alley between a couple of shops, you dug your
feet in and ground to a stop. “Where are we going? I am not going any
further until you tell me where you are dragging me to!”

Jack whirled on a boot heel, and sashayed the several steps back to be chest
to chest with you, still holding your hand and bringing it up to rest at his
shoulder. “Right here is good,” he mysteriously whispered, and silenced any
comeback with another deep kiss. He pressed forward, making you step slowly
backwards, until you ran against a hard surface. You found yourself backed
against a wall.

“Jack, you’re drunk,” you hiss in a loud whisper as if that would solve it
all and bring him to his senses.

“Not that drunk, luv,” he chuckled and if to emphasize the point took your
hand and placed in on the front of his rather hard and swelled trousers,
breathing out in a almost inaudible moan with the pressure from your touch.
“Its not liquor that has me reelnow.now. It’s the taste, scent and touch of
the most intoxicating woman I know. That sweet nectar just screams for men
to do the most incriminating things to get at it.”

“Jack!” you exclaim flabbergasted, “We can’t do that here.”

“Why not?”

“First off, anyone could come by and see us. This isn’t Tortuga where you
can fornicate in the streets. If the guard caught us…”

Jack made an exaggerated gesture of looking around the dark alley. “There
aren’t that many anyones running about here this time of night that I can
see, and the few guard here on this spit of an island are preoccupied in
their little fort. The gov’ner o’ this place does not have a man like the
Commodore to ensure the public safety.” When he saw the non-recognition in
your gaze, he just shook his head. “You haven’t had the pleasure of
Commodore Norrington then, from Port Royal? No loss. He’s bad fer me
business.” His hand wandered to the low clamshell line of the dress you wore
that night, to fondle the bountiful cleavage it gave you. “Those long
dresses you ladies wear are quite convenient fer this sort of thing. Have
ye not been tempted to do something not quite acceptable because it’s just
that? Its that risk that gives you that extra thrill when doing it, and the
utter euphoria when you’ve done it.” The possibility of this minor
corruption brought an eager and anticipatory edge to Jack’s tone.

His feather soft touch on your breasts brought goosebumps to your flesh,
even as warm as the night was. As scared and astounded as you were, the
mere thought of him taking you here quickened your heart. “Like pirating?”
you breathed.

”Aye, like pirating,” he whispered back, nuzzling his face into your hair
and neck. His teeth grazed your throat as he teased the sensitive skin.
Your fingers wove into the orderly mess of dreadlocks on his head,
encouraging him to continue his exploitation.

You could already feel the liquid heat pooling between your thighs, the
longing for him to touch you and take you almost overwhelming. You felt
Jack pull up the heavy fabric of your dress bit by bit, until he could reach
under allowing the rest to drape down discreetly. When his fingers found
your center, and the incredible wetness there, he matched the pained and
longing moan that came from your lips. There was no hiding that Jack’s
actions and overtures had garnered the very reaction that he had wanted, and
tenfold even. You shuddered with pleasure as the calloused digits slid
easily between your folds and into your depths. Jack slowly eased his
fingers in and out of your slick opening.

You felt him smile into your neck when you bit back a cry as he softly began
to run his thumb in firmer and ever widening circles on your swollen flesh.
Your body arched against him, straining for more and yet needing to escape
that direct assault on your most intimate and sensitive region. Jack
nuzzled his way back up to your lips to kiss you again, invading your mouth
with his tongue, his own breathing haggard with unfulfilled desire.

Against the wall you were somewhat trapped and limited in your movement, and
unable to return any of the pleasurable ministrations, so you decided to
savor what you had until Jack released you. As of its own accord, your body
rose and fell on the fingers that penetrated it. Jack’s one free hand went
back to fondling a breast that he pulled from its tight holding. The tips
of his fingers expertly manipulated your contracted and sensitiipplipple,
eliciting stifled gasps as he did so.

Jack began to work you harder and faster, using his finger to internally
stretch and stroke your passage. You allowed your fingers to dig
dangerously into his overcoat. If it had been bare flesh, there would have
been rivulets of blood from the holes from your nails. You felt the sweat
beading up on your head as a long rumbling whimper grew from the depths of
your lungs.

It was at that point that Jack suddenly stopped all his actions and leaned
back where you could ses fas face. You recognized the smoldering of his
need in his eyes and the tautness in his cheeks that indicated his forced
reserve. You felt his other hand go down fumbling between your bodies. His
hands came up to grasp your sides and lifted you a couple inches up the
wall, pressing and holding you there, your legs ever so slightly on either
side of his hips.

Jack bent his knees just a tad, and under the protected covering of your
draped skirt, you felt something hot and hard that you knew were not his
fingers press its way into your body. He let out this hushed throaty
vocalization that was halfway between a growl and a moan. Jack held you
almost painfully against the rough wood and bricks of the building behind
you as he pulsed and rocked his hips to move his member inside you with as
little upper body movement as he could. Unlike all your previous lovemaking
where he had taken his time and built up to the crescendo, this was
abandoned and driven by need. Then you realized, in his own way he HAD
taken his time, in his own way, when he fondled you so intensely before
sheathing himself in your heat. Jack had known good and well what he was
doing. The liquor and his passion and just the sheer excitement of it all
had brought him to that point where the instinct of completion once started
overwhelmed the aspiration to please the partner. In this way he had driven
you nearer to the point that he in his human male urges already was.

It had worked too, for before you realized it, your body surprised you and
you felt yourself flung over the cliff that was your pleasure and were
flying. You heard Jack strangle a cry as you muffled your own in the space
between his neck and shoulder, your body shivering in its stifled release.
Jack sought your mouth again as he reached his own climax, deep and delving
as you felt his body start to spasm.

It was then you heard the deep French accented voice from the shadows behind
Jack. ““>Hey there! You two. What’s going on here?>” ” One of the French
soldiers stationed on the island peered into the blackness where you were,
his rifle raised. The pirate froze, and you felt his face contort in
exasperated effort as he strove to control himself during his orgasm.

You quickly shifted your visible leg down to rest on the ground, and tired
not to look the solider too long in the eye as he approached. ““>Are you alright mademoiselle? Is this man harming you in any way?>” Jack kept his back towards the soldier, but glanced in his direction.

Reflecting quickly on his words, and thanking the angels that you knew
French as fluent as English, you replied quickly, ““>No, milord. He...I mean we…I am so sorry.>” ” Jack took a silent shuddering breath, and carefully let the rest of your skirt fall, hopefully concealed by the darkness and his
body, and stepped behind you before turning.

“I’m sorry sir,” Jack said in a strained tone. “Just swept away by the
beauty of your fair island.”

The Frenchman looked surprised. “English are you?” he asked, switching over
to that tongue but with a very thick accent.

Jack shrugged and smirked. “I guess I am sorry about that too if it makes
you feel better.”

The footman must have seen the residual embers of your passion in either
yours or Jack’s face, and gave the two of you a cockeyed stare. Directing
his question at you, he asked,”>This man is not attempting to force you is he?>”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and it struck you. Of course! You had never
considered that a man of the other Crown running across a heated scene
between a lady and a man in a dark alley might be concerned about rape.

“Oh! No sir. He was not forcing me to do anything.. I mean.. there was
nothing for concern.”

Jack must have understood enough French to get the gist of the Gendarmes
implication, and smiling in his beguiling way, stepping out next to you
again, wrapping his arm around your waist lovingly. Somehow the uncanny
pirate has been able to arrange and fasten himself in that prior brief
moment behind you much to your relieved amamzement. “You see good sir,” Jack
drawled out, “My lovely wife and I here were just married a few days ago,
and I was overcome with the love of ‘er beauty and ‘er being as we went on a
late night stroll to see the stars before we retired. As I stared into her
eyes, I felt the uncontrolled desire to kiss her in such a desperate manner
I must have lost all reason, sense and sensibilities. I am beggin’ your
forgiveness in my unbridled ardor for my buxom blushing bride, and I’m
prepared to face the penalty for undying, utter devotion to her.”

You struggled amazingly hard to keep your face straight and not
hyperventilate, trying not to fall down on the ground laughing, in the light
of the elaborate story that Jack was weaving. Thankfully the French soldier
must have not noticed your unease, as he was enthralled with Jack and the
tale, just as most people seemed to get with him.

Lowering his weapon, the soldier grinned and winked at the pirate,” Ah,
Monsieur, I was once a new husband and I know the passion that burns men’s
souls. It is good to see new love between a husband and his wife. But..”
and the Gendarme took a more serious tone, “You cannot be too careful out
here. While you are kissing said lovely wife, any matter of serious
consequence could befall you while you are so engaged, including not getting
such an understanding officer coming across you.”

“Oh yes,” Jack solemnly intoned, ”I shall endeavor in the future to remember
that, and I thank you for your indulgence. I will try and find a more
suitable time and place to engage in that disreputable act of kissing my
love senseless.”

“Oh, its not the act of kissing,” was the reply, “its what that kissing
could lead to!”

Jack gave him a look in mock aghastment. “No, I suppose we couldn’t ‘ave
that now could we. We can’t ‘ave it lead to that, right here. It would be
so inappropriate.” You let out a small snort as you choked back a series of
snickers.

“Well, I wouldn’t worry too much if such inappropriateness in the great
night air might show up in say, the ostler’s back stable. The old man is in
bed promptly early, and he keeps nothing but nags back there. Nothing worth
stealing to worry about.” The Gendarme winked again at Jack, as if the
subtleties of their manly conversation were going above your head.

“Ah, yes. In bed early. I see. Many thanks to you for your guidance,” Jack
smiled back. “And I hope your own bonny good wife sees fit to make you feel
as newlywed as we are tonight!”

“Ah, I could but hope, but she is very large with child, so I fear that will
not be the case for a while.”

Jack grinned. “But that is what got ye thar in the first place, so you can’t
look too down on it.”

“Ah oui, Monsieur, So you are right….”

The two men chatted on there, completely ignoring you, while you just
watched on in utter amazement, not knowing whether to feel terrified,
relieved, ashamed at having been caught, or any combination of the mixed
emotions that were running through your head at the moment. Jack, in his
calm collected way, just bandied on until you felt you were nearing the
point you wanted to bash him the head.

Finally, whether sensing your ire or tiring of his game, Jack slid his arm
in yours and gave the Gendarme an exaggerated bow. “Well, I ‘ad best be
off, and take me dear lady back to our humble room for rest.” Jack leaned
over towards him and whispered loudly,” I’ve discovered she can be quite the
bear in the morning wi’out ‘er proper beauty sleep.”

“Madame,” the Frenchman said, changing your title to the married formal and
kissing your hand. He gave Jack a wink and a grin and a small salute, and
strode off back to the main road.

When he was out of sight, you turned to look at Jack, who was intently
following the soldier with his senses. You supposed he was listening, for a
minute later he relaxed and sighed,” He’s gone.”

You clutched the material at the armholes of Jack’s undervest, and buried
your head in his chest. Jack must have thought you were crying as your body
started to shake softly against him. “Oy, luv? Please don’t cry. No harm
no foul was done.”

“Who’s crying?” you gasped, after catching your breath from the peals of
laughter that burst out as the dam of angst ruptured, and the whole incident
was now the funniest trauma you had ever been in. Wiping a tear from your
eye, you finally were able to look up and see a bemused Jack looking quite
askance at you. “So much for your assertations that no fine Gov’ners men
patrol these alleys. I just can’t believe,” you were able to finally say,”
that we were caught doing what we were doing and we were able to convince
the constabulary we were doing nothing. ”

Jack shifted in an embarrassed unease. “Well, thank what higher bein’ ye
will that he’s half blind and its dark with a cloud cover tonight to hide
the moon. Damn bastard couldn’t have arrived a minute later? Teach me a
lesson it did to be thinkin’ with the wrong head. That bloody well HURT!”

You grasped Jack’s hand firmly. “I’m glad we did it though.”

“You are?” His eyebrows shot up, and he looked down at you from that odd
cocked angle of his that he used when he was. “Even after the run in wi’
said local constabulary? Our near…how would they say it? Faux paux?”

“Yes,” you slowly started walking, out into one of the small narrow streets,
leading him back towards your home, happy to get out of the alley now that
your nerves had stopped their wild dance. “You were right about that
euphoria. It was…exciting. But now, though, I want to go home, and let you
try that again, with less interruptions this time?”

“I can see a lot o’ merit in that line of thought, milady,” he grinned, and
entwined his arm through your before re-clasping your hands. Jack
exaggerated his usual swagger in his obvious pleasure at this pronouncement
from you, swinging the cane in long, lazy circles. The wind from the
encroaching weather had picked up again , blowing his hair so the trinkets
tied and woven into the long dark tangles clinked together melodiously as
you wandered through the near empty streets back to your room for a long
active evening.


END PART ONE