Parlait

Elizabeth had once accused Jack of being unable to resist curiosity, and though she’d been right, she now understood the same to be true about herself, just as Jack had in turn accused of her. Who were ‘Graciella’ and ‘Juliana?’ She’d removed Barbossa’s boots and was longingly undoing the buttons of his fly, anxious to get a look at what he’d rendered her into primal, instinctual need with before; it had felt so good to have such a hard cock within her, hammering her into wanton servitude, but how was he made? What was his size? What would he feel like in her grasp? In her mouth?

As strong as her desires for these revelations were, she also felt a haze of bizarre interest had overtaken her where those names were concerned, along with, was that…no, it couldn’t be…but it sure felt like jealousy. Why were there two names? She wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that even Captain Hector Barbossa had some great love in his life, but two of them? That was just…well, it was, ostentatious on his part! Two names. Two women! Two women had made such a mark in his life that he’d put there mark on his chest…that broad, muscular chest, that Elizabeth could have run her hands, lips and tongue over for days and been satisfied to points usually only reached by more invasive means. Had that also been how they felt, ‘Graciella’ and ‘Juliana?’ Those two women…why display such a thing to any other woman he planned on bedding? Why not just mount a woman and then announce to her, “Any efforts put forth on yer part be not necessary. For I have already loved too affluently!” Oh! Elizabeth had never wanted a man so much and been so incensed by something she couldn’t even prove he’d done! Nevertheless, she’d show him! Show him that no matter what his two trollops had done for him, she’d do it better! Jack had always allowed and enjoyed her creativity when she held his cock in her mouth, and Barbossa was about to feel all the tricks she’d concocted! She’d put her own mark on him! ‘Graciella’s’ and ‘Juliana’s’ memories be damned!

“Ye look to do me in, girl” Barbossa growled, liking how her small hands gripped him roughly, wrapping around the base of his ever-stiffening erection as she pulled him free of his breeches. She took hold of him like she owned him, like she knew better than anyone else how to work a man with her mouth. He hoped she did. “Do not disappoint me!”

Elizabeth leered at him, so fed up at the thought of those two women who’d been so loved by him that she scarcely noticed the weapon she now wielded in her hand. “Disappoint you, Captain? I couldn’t bear the thought!” Fine, she was jealous, there was no use in hiding that from herself any longer, and at the moment she didn’t care. She only wanted Barbossa’s big body straining against hers, his back arching, hands tangled in her hair and a stream of sailor’s vulgarities churning from his lips. “You will let me do this!” It was a declaration, not a question, and Elizabeth’s tone hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Her insubordinate manner sent a crackling of desirous rage down his spine and made his cock pound even harder than it was. He loved the challenge she could be, loved how daringly she tested him, but she’d soon be put back in her place. “Come,” he ordered with a growl and a beckoning finger, directing her away from his waist and locking eyes with her. Before she could ask what he meant, Barbossa grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her down to him, kissing her at first softly, until she began to melt against him, and then took her lower lip between his teeth and bit her sharply, making her jump. He let her pull away, scowling at him and rubbing her mouth. “There,” he sighed with a dry smile. “Don’t be forgettin’ who is the captor and who is the captive, Elizabeth!”

Unfortunately, she couldn’t argue that. She’d already exhausted her strength against this man once, he was like trying to move a mountain, or wrestle a bear, or a lion. “I trust you’ll forgive my zealous nature, Captain?” There was still a hint of spite in her voice that she couldn’t help, and she didn’t wait for him to pardon her, didn’t really care if he would. There was no point to it, she already knew Barbossa could do what other men had tried to do but had always failed; Captain Barbossa dominated her. And furthermore, she took pleasure in it, albeit that her temperament was not to appear outwardly so.

Once corrected, Elizabeth lowered her mouth to his again, kissing him and not at all surprised that he made no effort to return her apologetic affection. She moved down his body, kissing over his beard and neck to his chest, rubbing his pectoral and serratus muscles with the hand that did not steady her. He was like a lion, she thought as she nuzzled against the red hair of his beard and chest; formidable and ferocious when he wanted to be, strong and solemn when left to his own accord. He’d killed three men tonight to save her from that cage; she hadn’t even thanked him. In some hidden attempt to embrace him, Elizabeth laid her head over his heart, over the scar from the shot that had killed him once, over those names that had frenzied her so, and with her one arm across his chest, hugged herself to him, relishing in the warm sound of his beating heart. She felt his arm rising up against her and was ready to be irritably pried away, but to her surprise his arm closed over her in nothing less than a caress, tightening its grip on her and pressing her closer to him as his hand stroked lovingly over her head, his fingers carefully smoothing her hair back behind her ear. She swore she heard him groan, a soft, barely auditable sound of something other than physical pleasure. But it was not to be long lived.

Barbossa pulled his hand free of her hair, taking his arm from around her and instead pushing on her shoulder, shoving her down his body. “Get to it!” He commanded, his voice betraying the fondness that had again passed between them. It was more than pleasant to hold her to him and feel her soft breasts and pert nipples against his stomach, the smoothness of her cheek and the flutter of her eyelashes when he’d stroked her hair. She affected him to some means that were not within his preparation, he had to admit, but his body seethed with its want of her, perhaps even more so now after having held her.

As if it were some parting gesture, Elizabeth turned her head to the side and gently kissed the hand that pushed against her shoulder, feeling it instantly relax, and she moved down, feeling a bit more cooled as to the presence of those names inked onto his chest, but her desires and curiosities about his manhood rekindled. She wanted more than anything now to pleasure him…and surpass whatever it was ‘Graciella’ and ‘Juliana’ had done for him…she couldn’t help it, she was after all a woman. “Would you rather stand? Have me on my knees?” She asked, unsure of his preferences and wanting this to be perfect.

Have her on her knees? That did things to stir the spirit! Barbossa shifted impatiently, pulling his breeches down more than they were with one hand and arranging the pillows behind him with the other. “No,” he settled back again, glancing towards her hands as she reached for his cock. “The view be fine from here.”

Elizabeth turned her attention once again to the hardness jutting out from between his strong thighs. “Likewise,” she smiled at him and held back her urge to take him down her throat all at once. She liked that he wanted to watch, Jack always liked to watch too. Ironically enough though, she always managed to rush Jack into such a state of intensity that he lay back with his eyes squeezed shut into tight slits as he wrestled against what she gave him. She’d be no less severe with Barbossa; perhaps she’d even be more so! What would it feel like to temper a man of his power and legend with her mouth?

Barbossa gave a moan and his hips bucked forward involuntarily when she wrapped her hand around the base of him again. Elizabeth gave him another gentle smile, reached up with her free hand and patted his chest as if telling him to be patient, she wouldn’t delay this any longer. He caught her hand, taking it to his mouth to kiss and suck her fingertips, but as soon as she stroked the length of him, his body quaked and he nipped her with his teeth, but her only response was a brief gasp, and she let him continue to bite as she explored him.

She’d only ever seen one other man in her lifetime, but by her estimations, the Captain was big. Not as large as Jack, however, but for that Elizabeth had been glad. By now her body had learned to accept Jack’s blessings, but in the beginning, to her virgin eyes and body, Jack’s size had been menacing and painful. But what she held now, stroking softly as its master groaned, sucking and biting her fingers, promised all the pleasures his rough style could bring, but none of the shock or agony.

His organ seemed to thump more and more in her hand, about as long as a table knife, perhaps a bit shorter, but as heavy and wieldy as the silver itself. Like Jack, he was thickest at the base, her fingers just met around him there. It could have been that he was overly erect, for a mass of blue and purple veins throbbed beneath the skin of his substantial shaft and added texture to the otherwise smooth feel of his hardness. The head of his cock was hot pink and rounded, swollen out of the foreskin that covered it, and sticky with lubrication and the droplet of clear pre-climax fluid which now eased from the quivering slit like opening of his glans, sitting upon it like dew on a lusciously ripe plum.

It felt so good to close her fist around him and stroke slowly, letting him expand and contract within her grasp, feeling herself becoming wetter and wetter between her thighs, her body expanding to allow him entrance at just the feeling of his cock in her hand. Now that she’d seen his cock and felt the weighty, lengthy, pulsating, doeskin texture of it, she wanted him to fuck her again, hard. But, she owed him this, wanted to give him this, better than any whore ever had.

Barbossa’s breathing quickened, matched her strokes, feeling what she did to him more than watching her do it as he lay back with his eyes closed, big, broad chest heaving with a light coat of sweat making his muscled body gleam in the lantern light. The desire to put her mouth on him grew and grew, Barbossa’s lips, tongue and teeth working her fingers only adding to it, and finally Elizabeth could take no more. She rubbed the palm of her hand against the underside of his glans, a place she knew to be the most sensitive. Barbossa reeled against the sudden pleasant friction and sucked in a deep breath, releasing her fingers from his mouth, and he couldn’t stay himself from further thrusting against Elizabeth’s hand.

“Be yer mouth as good as yer hands, missy?” He asked her, trying to keep his head from spinning as her hands trailed down his upper body again, messing about in the curls of his chest hair and visiting each nipple with a little pinch that only made every nerve ending in his body urge him to tackle her beneath him and grind himself against her so relentlessly she screamed at the brutality of the pleasure. She liked his chest, that he’d figured out! He could hold her mesmerized with the scars and skin and ink of his broad male beauty; he would remember that when he was next upon her. But he wished she’d move on now, began to regret letting her have this much control, but oh did he ever enjoy this torment! His cock was so hard it ached, for a second time this night. It had been so many years since a woman had brought him to this point.

“You warned me not to disappoint you,” she smiled, moving so that she faced him, straddling his legs and bent down over him, letting her nipples graze the striated muscle of his thighs and reveling in the sensation, envisioning the feel of his mustache and beard on her white skin as he sucked her nipple. His erection loomed in front of her, taut and tight, leaning slightly to the right with its stiffness. She’d made him wait long enough, as she had herself. She lowered her head, moistened her lips and filled her mouth with as much of his hot flesh as she could take on the first plunge, giving all of him that she held a quick suck as she drew her head back up his length, feeling his body shake and hearing a wrenching growl escape him from deep in his chest. He tasted of salt air and leather. She let him slip from her mouth and smiled. “And I won’t disappoint you, Captain.”

How he’d managed to not explode in her mouth, Barbossa wasn’t sure. He was just thankful that he hadn’t cum, not yet; he’d gladly suffer more of that from her. He wanted to thrust as Elizabeth lowered her mouth to his cock again, his organ felt as though it were trying to become even bigger than it was, but before it had the chance his glans was encompassed within the wet warmth and softness of her mouth, being tickled with her tongue. She certainly had been schooled in such things, kept her lips curved over her teeth, knew to flick him and rub his wide frenulum beneath the head of his cock with her tongue, and she not only moved her tongue, but her whole head, up and down, up and down as she held him steady with her hand.

The touch of her tongue was light against his cockhead, like the flutter of butterfly wings that gently and maddeningly set his entire shaft a tickle down to his balls. He was once more getting too close to the edge, and he wanted this to continue too much to allow himself to cum, she had to change her methods, make him have to adjust to a new routine of sensation. More contact would shock his brimming body out of it. “A bit more,” he urged in a low whisper, “stroke me as y’do it, lass.”

He wanted more? He had no idea! He’d tried to hide it, but Elizabeth could feel his thighs trembling against her breasts and it sent such a pleasant vibration over her nipples. She was so hungry for his cock now, wouldn’t dream of releasing it. He’d asked her to stroke him as she worked him with her mouth, but why stop there? She sucked at his glans with a bit more pressure, still lolling her tongue over him again and again, flicking her tongue teasingly in the contracting slit in his glans, hearing him moan again as she drew her hand up his shaft as far as her mouth. For a brief second she removed her mouth from him only to replace her lips and tongue with her hand, squeezing his cockhead in her fist with slightly more pressure than she applied with her mouth, but twisting him nimbly in her grasp as if turning the knob of a door, then quickly sucking him back into her mouth again.

His reaction both startled her and pleased her, a great roar escaping him, his hands balling up into fists and struck the mattress, but then grabbed her hair close to her scalp, holding her there as he thrust forward, taking more of her mouth. He may have been the one on his back, but there was no control of him. Elizabeth dropped her jaw, relaxed her throat and let him fuck her mouth.

What was it she thought she was doing? He’d never expected such from governor’s daughter, Elizabeth Swann! Is this what she gave Sparrow every night? Damn Sparrow! Let him have The Pearl! Barbossa would keep the girl! His entire body shook with the intensity of orgasm, but he’d somehow managed to stave off such as of yet. His cock though, the head of it particularly, felt as though he’d waited too long to cum, bloated and sore, but still so in need of her touch. His balls were swelling now, could also use some attention. His release was emerging, but now nothing seemed able to bring it about, not even the way he thrust himself between her lips.

At that moment he began to consider he may be choking her and eased back, pulling out of her throat though his body raged at the retreat. Elizabeth pulled her mouth up his shaft and took a quick gasp of air, looked him in the eye mutinously and to his amazement worked herself back down his shaft as far as she could, letting him slide back into her throat once more, the tip of her nose and her lips lost in the deep red curls of hair at the base of his cock. He was too out of breath now to order or question her, his body making his consciousness a slave to the primal force it needed to feel so badly. He lay back with every muscle tensed, and let Elizabeth do as she pleased to him; hating how he’d given in, but loving the way she’d made him do so.

This was where she’d wanted him, and now she could truly begin to work him. She smoothed one hand up over his knee and over his thigh, feeling the muscles shudder beneath her palm and noting that it was not just his upper half that time had spared. She kept going until she cupped his testicles in her hand, rubbing his scrotum and listening to him gasp and growl as she rubbed the two tense forms in her hand, all the while beginning to trace the pattern of a figure eight with the tip of her nose in the deep red curls. His cock slid around her mouth, in and out of her throat, allowing her to breathe and even lick at the underside of his glans as she swiveled her head from side lazily. And Barbossa lay frozen in magnificent anguish beneath her, swearing to her, “Y’ll die the same death!”

He’d never been so consumed in a haze of lust and pleasure like this; so near and yet so far from a point of much needed release. He’d already begun planning what he’d do to her, the images filling his mind and adding to the incredible sensations that overtook him again and again. He began to imagine that when he did finally cum that his entire body might shatter, for there was not a muscle or nerve within his being that didn’t beg for orgasm. The pressure was so intense in his groin that at times he felt nothing of her mouth at all, until his cock would throb, and then he’d feel her voracious tongue, her tight throat, the soft, pliability of her cheek, and it would all send him spiraling out of rationality. Elizabeth was a damned sorceress; she must have been, for no other woman had ever brought his body to such a point of desperate and dulcet grief.

His glans pounded massively against her tongue, nearly coinciding with the beating of her own racing heart. She wouldn’t have him to toy with much longer, she knew, he was close, so very very close; Elizabeth could practically taste him. She was much more satisfied to have a man slamming himself into her from above when he was about to cum, loved to feel an ejaculating cock deep inside her, but she had no objections to Barbossa’s cock setting off in her mouth. She closed her hand around his scrotum and gave it a light tug, holding the base of his cock with her other hand once more and working her head up and down his shaft again, fast, sucking hard as she went up, keeping her lips pursed as she went back down, pushing her tongue against his frenulum, readying for his climax, but thinking of one last trick she could ply, just to lengthen the experience for him.

He’d felt it first between his shoulder blades of all places, and it traveled down his spine, an electrified tingle that shot straight down his cock, bombarded his glans with a mass of palpitations and prickliness that hurtled back down his shaft again. Finally! The first quakes of orgasm were like a crack of thunder, startling and all encompassing, but he was cumming, hard! His anxious hands clutched at her hair and held her to him as he thrust himself into her mouth good and deep and held that way.

He was too strong to keep a hold of, and so Elizabeth again allowed him to do as he pleased, her mouth thrumming with the pulse of laden organ, her hand though tight around the base. Barbossa’s body jerked, every muscle bulging as if he were trying to free himself of some restraint, though nothing held him to the bunk. He growled deeply, thrust more of himself into her throat and growled again, breathing heavier and heavier. His cock shook, vibrated, then tensed. It was now; Elizabeth pressed hard with her thumb and forefinger at the root of his shaft, closing off the path that the waiting gush of semen hurtled towards, and kept the pressure there, not allowing the release to occur.

He was cumming, he could feel it, but it wasn’t complete, the tension only seemed to build more and more, stronger and stronger, somewhere deep within his groin and balls though his cock spasmed violently within her mouth. Barbossa thrashed, roared like an angry, impassioned beast, suffering through this dry orgasm and cursing whatever it was that kept him prisoner within this torment.

Elizabeth’s body responded as though he were slamming into her with his cock, her body working to grip him as he seized in her mouth. The tension that had built behind her fingers was fantastic. His big hands gripped her shoulders now, nearly hurting her with the amount of pressure he held her with, she had to bring his climax to its usual depleting satisfaction, he wouldn’t take much more, she knew that. She eased him out of her throat as she let go of his shaft, and not a second later he erupted like a fountain against her tongue, salty and hot.

There was no intensity of pleasure upon ejaculation, just the relief of pressure, the relaxation of muscles, the peace returning to his senses, but all the while he was aware of Elizabeth sucking his quickly softening cock as if she wished to drain him of all he had. Barbossa drew in a deep breath and exhaled; coming back to himself, yet still feeling a ripple of the tension roll through his muscles as they loosened more and more. He felt Elizabeth release him, and then she stood up, leaving him to have the bunk to himself, and he took the opportunity to stretch and groaned pleasantly. He’d expected less from her, but considered himself lucky to be alive; had it not been for Calypso’s gift of renewed vitality to him, his heart may not have survived that!

“Disappointed, Captain?” Elizabeth turned and smiled at him as she picked up the glass of wine he’d poured for her earlier and drank it down in one gulp, swishing it around her mouth to remove the more unpleasant aspects of worshipping a man in that fashion.

Her arms moved gracefully about the hourglass of her lithe body as she set the glass down on the table again, making no effort to hide her nudity from his view. She was beautiful, and if he still had any doubts as to whether she was a smart match for him, they were now gone. “Only in m’estimation of you, miss.” He sat up, wondering if the room might spin. No. Good, now stand up, go over there, and get her!

Elizabeth smiled as he stood, stepping out of his breeches, now completely naked, every piece of his strong body perfectly matched to the other. “Do you still mean to kill me, Captain?” She asked as he backed her up against the table, nearly laughing with her excitement and anticipation.

“Aye,” Barbossa wrapped his strong arms around her waist, pulling her into him, such soft skin, such beautiful eyes daring him to make some move. If they weren’t perfectly matched, he never would be with anyone. “But the want to kiss ye be a greater at the moment.” He pressed at the small of her back, bringing her hips closer to his, Elizabeth wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on her tiptoes to reach him as his lips claimed hers, her tongue meeting his as eagerly as he sought hers out.

His chest hair against her bare breasts felt so good, and his arms continued to tighten around her and he took the kiss deeper and deeper, until he wore out her tired mouth and she had give over to him. But she could still squeeze her arms around him and press herself to him, beginning to wish she hadn’t let him cum and wondering how long, and if, he’d regain his strength; she wanted him so badly. How responsive was he still? She leaned into him more, shifted against his lax cock, hoping to feel it flinch and maybe start to harden again. Instead, she felt him lift her up in his embrace and gently set her down upon the table. He sucked at both her upper and lower lips one last time, then broke their kiss.

He smiled when she looked up at him inquisitively, putting a hand on each of her thighs, pushing them apart as he bent to his knees. “Now, ‘bout that death,”

If you want Chapter 5, say so! Thanks for reading!