Parlait

Coconut oil, it was a thing purported to lessen the effects of the burning sun on one’s skin, but the dripping, greasiness had always been more of an irritation to Barbossa than a sunburn. He was glad to have kept the jar of it though; for having the opportunity of putting his very own mark on Elizabeth was something he felt he was owed. Had it not been for the Aztec Curse, and then for Jack’s bullet, Elizabeth Swann’s maidenhead would have been his! He’d have to settle for the moment at hand, do something to her that Jack never had, make her feel him in a way she’d never felt any other man, but Barbossa had no course in mind to hurt her. If anything, by the end of this, she would have found a deeper reliance on him, learned that listening to him was in her best interest. Not to mention, she’d certainly never have the name ‘Jack’ in her head whenever Hector Barbossa’s touch was upon her again!

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth’s body still bustled from orgasm, her mind not clear, but she understood that she’d cried out the wrong man’s name, and over that she was embarrassed, even a bit apprehensive. “Force of habit, Captain, that’s all it was, I swear to you!” But she felt his hand against her buttock, stroking over the curve.

“Tis a habit in need of breakin’, Elizabeth!” She didn’t shake nor shutter, must have been too confused. Barbossa let his hand creep closer to the cleft of her beautiful ass, tracing the ridge of her buttock with his thumb as if to give her some hint. His cock gave a twitch as his finger neared the valley in between, but he steeled himself, would be patient.

What was he endeavoring to touch? Elizabeth leaned more forward, tipping her hips upward, hoping to feel his caress upon her still slick vulva; Barbossa’s fingers moved more to the center, but did not drop down as far as she’d hoped, yet stopped and stroked something. What?! Her body jumped, more out of astonishment, and a sick dread filled her. No! He didn’t mean to…she nearly pulled a muscle in her hasty attempt to stand up from the table. ”Captain, I—“

Barbossa heaved himself upon her in a flash, leaning down to her fiercely and kissing her, his lips moving over hers vigorously, his tongue drawing hers into his mouth where he sucked it viciously. He spread the spheres of her ass with one hand, tracing around and around the tightly furrowed circle in the center. Elizabeth again protested, trembled and groaned her disapproval against his mouth. Barbossa broke the kiss, but not the hold, keeping her down against the table, his chest flush with her back as he stroked her hair with one hand, and her twitching anus with the other. “Be still, missy,” he whispered commandingly. “Be still and trust, or fluster, fight, and be debilitated.”

Again Elizabeth was reminded of how Barbossa took what Barbossa wanted, this was going to happen. However, she feared not that he would hurt her for failing to comply. He baffled her, one moment kissing her and holding her tenderly, the next pouncing on her and holding her like some panther held a deer by the throat, waiting patiently for it to die. She didn’t want this; at least, she thought she didn’t. She’d had herself convinced at the start of this night that she never wished to so much as kiss Hector Barbossa, and then found herself reaching the heights of pure bliss while lying beneath his robust body. Could this have been the same? Why did she think she didn’t want this? Did she fear pain? Did she fear the unnaturalness of it all? Or was it purely because she’d never done it before? Because some part of her felt an abject guilt at the thought of Barbossa knowing her body more thoroughly than Jack did? But then, wasn’t that exactly the reason Barbossa was going to do this? To make her his own in a way that no other man could say she was? Could she allow that to be? “I don’t know if I can,” her voice was hushed, throat constricted, his weight pressing down on her so mercilessly.

His touch was light as it traced the gathered ring at her center, tickling her on purpose, feeling her shift and for a moment move against his finger. His cockhead gave a throb and he trapped it between his abdomen and her buttock. “What be it that scares y’more. lass? That this may injure? Or that this may be pleasin’?” Seduction was a slow game, but one that Barbossa could play well. Elizabeth hadn’t been foolish enough to refuse him, but her half answer wouldn’t do either. Practically no respectable woman invited the act of sodomy; and yet in his life Barbossa had put so many respectable women upon their knees, asses high in the air, as they begged to be reamed over and over again, one even barked like a dog. Elizabeth Swann, Sparrow…whatever silly bird she was calling herself these days, the Governor’s daughter, a pirate’s wife, would be no different from all of Barbossa’s other conquests. All his other conquests…was it his heart that suddenly gave a heavy thump, or had the names scribed over it wished to make him remember how dangerous seduction was? How easily it was becoming to slip into that old mould of himself; to once again want someone so much that nothing else mattered. Elizabeth, he would have all of her.

“How badly will it hurt?” Elizabeth felt her body beginning to relax and she was shocked by how quickly she grew to enjoy the gossamer touch of his fingers in that place, but too ashamed to admit such a thing. Part of her was calming, but yet another part braced to feel a cock ramming and tearing its way into her entrails at any moment. His finger pressed at the tight bud of her opening, not demandingly, but the tip of it pushed in just enough to pierce her taut seal. She tensed a moment, thinking this was it, he’d be in her all too soon, but Barbossa went no further inwards, stopping instead to quiver his pinched finger until she couldn’t help moan at the fluttering sensations it caused.

“Not an ounce, if’n y’give over and trust me, girl.” The very thought turned his voice to a husky purr against her ear, and he sucked the soft lobe into his mouth, biting it gently. Elizabeth’s back arched against him as she sharply exhaled, making his cock throb again, and she pushed more against the finger at her virgin passage. She was still much too tight to even entertain exploring yet, but she was resisting less and less. Barbossa took the small bottle of coconut oil and tucked it between them, allowing it to lie in the cradle that was the split of her beautiful ass, letting the heat from their bodies warm it to something that would be more sensuous to apply.

Elizabeth could feel her clitoris beginning to swell curiously from beneath its hood, awakened by the new sensations of fingers in new places. She hadn’t expected that this might feel good, was unprepared for how her hips pushed back against Barbossa’s body and his hand, but he was careful, taking away before she could have too much to hurt herself with. Her nipples were hard against the table, and she could feel the arousal of the Captain’s own chest jutting out against her back. The feeling of the bottle parting her buttocks was generating into a tantalizing awareness of what was to come; his cock deep within her, using some part of her that no one had ever dared touch, not even Jack. But there was something more than just that to this; this was submission, men submitted to other men in this fashion, this was being the most vulnerable she could be, having to trust that a man she’d always seen as cruel would be gentle with her.

Elizabeth felt Barbossa’s other hand shifting the bottle and shortly after something warm, wet and viscous dripped down around the creased opening his finger caressed. She immediately noted the scent of the slippery liquid, and immediately understood he’d taken precautions not to hurt her. She moaned again, the slickness and the warmth making her relax further, and when Barbossa’s finger began to rub the oil around and around her taut gathered pleats, Elizabeth heard and felt him moan as well. This was feeling less and less unnatural, her body reacted just as it did at any other sexual stimulus, she was wet, wanted to be penetrated, pushed back again in the hopes of feeling his fingertip finally slip within the tight ring that had kept them separate; there was a rush of hot blood to points between her legs. But this was still different from all the other times; this was being fucked, for no other reason or end than the base and sinful want of the act. This was something that she should have wanted to experience only with Jack, particularly for the first time, but Jack’s size…Barbossa, it was actually less fear-provoking with him, and her curiosity was winning. Give over, let him do as he pleased, there was no way she could stop him from taking what he wanted anyway, and it was such an odd comfort to know she had no choice but to give in.

“Captain,” There wasn’t a need to keep her pinned any longer, she’d have stayed where he put her, but she’d have whined and carried on if he dared to take his weight off of her and break this contact. He had her, she was his, and she begged for no liberation.

“Aye?” She was a vessel upon flat water beneath him, sails unfurled, pleading for a gust of wind.

“Have me,” her eyes drifted closed as she said the words, resigned now to lie below him and feel him take the whole of her, to have her to her very last carnal bit. It felt good not to fight this; it felt good to not be the strongest one in the scope of what was between them.

Barbossa gave a hungry grunt, his erection further charged, though at the instant Elizabeth gave in he realized how little the pleasure he’d get from fucking her had to do with any of this. He’d been cheated out of getting her first, but though skewed, it was now he who would take full possession. “Missy, y’ve just become more mine than Jack’s!”

More oil, no skimping, Barbossa covered his hand with it as it dripped down the cleavage of her ass and pressed the pad of his finger hard against her anus. Elizabeth moaned, sucked in a breath and held it as though she expected to not have control enough to inhale for sometime. She didn’t resist, he didn’t wait, and his finger slid in between the most pleasant strain, immediately choked within the tight velvet of her body. Elizabeth further flattened beneath him as he permeated her, but then arched her back against his chest, grinding out the most guttural low growl he’d ever heard a woman set forth, and she moved as though being fucked.

How was it that a finger within her there caused such a pervasive flare of sensations? Her head spun, her muscles contracted and balled up as if to fight, something swelled larger and more sensitive along the upper wall her neglected feminine channel, but the coursing finger within her somehow managed to fuel the spot’s hunger. She shivered, being stretched so was wonderful, the feeling going far beyond any tingle or tickle she’d ever felt about the rim of her vaginal entrance; her body hugged this invasive pleasure with so much more strength. There was no pain; there was only the feeling of not being filled enough. “More!”

She clawed at the very table and thrust her hips backwards until she pumped herself onto and off of his digit faster than he would have dared to go. “Mind yerself, little one,” Barbossa’s breath was gone as he kissed her neck, holding her tightly as she struggled for more than he knew would be wise to give her. If she only knew the influence she was upon him; he hoped that he could restrain himself and not join her in this wild abandonment. Another finger, she could take that, and anticipating her reaction to such made his balls shudder up against his strong body.

She felt herself being invaded again and once more her body involuntarily contracted around it and squeezed, sending splinters of ecstasy shooting out to all points of her body, her nipples this time tightening as if he’d pinched them both with his fingers. Her breathing was rapid and uncontrolled, so was the attempted rolling and twisting of her torso; two fingers now moved easily within her, right behind that swelling sponge of pleasure that cried out for more and more contact. All of her called out to know what it was to be totally taken, totally seized and consumed by a man. His hand…why only his bloody hand? “Cock!” Her foot lifted from the floor in some vain endeavor to snake her leg around his waist and pull him closer. “Fuck me! Now!”

Her demands made something within him snap, and he jerked her up from the table in a flash, lashing her to him, his big bicep over her throat, craning his neck to whisper harshly in her ear. “Ye’d have me tear y’apart so simply?” He’d have growled had there been ample air in his lungs to do so, but his breath was as spent as Elizabeth’s. It had become clear that Jack had not inspired an ounce of respect within her, but such did not surprise Barbossa. “I know what be best fer ye, dearest. And y’ll conform!”

His fingers still moved, still stirred that which seemed to have no end within her. She recognized the responsibility Barbossa assumed in being the first, but she didn’t care, not with rising tension that threatened to sever her mind and body. He may have been stronger than she, but she could still gain that which she wanted most. “Jack would have had me by now!”

Rage, fury, indignation and the most white hot of desire combusted within him like never before. This incorrigible, disrespectful, wicked little cuss! Barbossa held no other awareness other than slamming her back down upon the table as a growl came from somewhere in the pit of his stomach. With one foot he kicked her ankles wide apart, withdrew his gentle fingers, clutched her roughly at her hips, and in one thrust forward, obliterated what remained of her secrets. The beast within him surged, hell-bent on throttling the iniquity within her that eviscerated him from his good sense. Hard, deep strokes, moving like he meant to somehow fuck Jack out of her; oh, she’d be his, she’d fit no other man in no other way! He wasn’t sure how many times he’d pumped into her before he began to actually feel her, how snug she was, how much like down she felt, how each ragged breath she exhaled seemed to pull at the head of his cock, how each little squeak of her whimpers vibrated up and down his shaft. How long had he been fucking her? Was he hurting her?

Had Elizabeth not put her arms out in front of herself, she’d have broken her front teeth against the table top when Barbossa flung her back upon it. She’d scarcely time to even panic before the blunt, hard head of his cock pressed against her widened orifice. She’d asked him for such, even went as far as infuriating him to have it, but when the moment came, she felt fear, tried to retreat beneath him and pull away, starving for mercy, only to feel his fingers like claws at the curve of her hips. She braced herself, cursed the passion that had made her taunt this man, tried to steady herself with a deep breath, but that which she’d claimed so badly to be in need of suddenly possessed her, squeezing through her constricted passage, feeling twice as big as it had when he’d taken her the first time. Her arms stretched out in front of her as if she sought to grow taller as more and more of him fed into her, seeming never to end. She groaned, all the air leaving her lungs, as though there was room within her body for naught but the Captain’s organ. And then he stopped, his big body shuddered through hers as the tightness he’d breached within her helplessly quivered around his mass. His, now she was all his! For the first time ever Elizabeth was the complete and utter chattel of a man, but not that of Jack Sparrow, but of Captain Hector Barbossa!

“Captain,” her voice was a pitiful squeak of a whisper, there was no way he’d been able to hear her and she could summon no more words. She wanted to tell him to be gentle, to beg him not to thrash about as he did during their first coupling, but he’d already begun moving, nearly all the way out, and then flooded her with his bulk again, all the way back in. The stroke was powerful and surprisingly smooth, moving her back with him as he withdrew and rocking her up onto her toes as he came home again, the niche he occupied beaten more and more into submission each time. And that mysterious spot, the one separated by only a membrane from his thrusting cock, it thrummed and pushed against each stroke he gave her, sending the sustenance of a prickling fever to her hardening clitoris. As the taut little knot twitched, so did Elizabeth’s hips, moving more and more with Barbossa, wanting to be stretched wider and feel herself filled more and more. She’d never held so much of a man before and each inch he took away and then gave back was a new awakening of gratification. She could feel so much, his balls spanked the drenched outer lips between her legs, teasing the engorged folds within. Each thrust in prodded her body closer to letting go, feeding the tension to wind, giving her the most bizarre delight born of an ache she swore reached as high as her kidneys. There was no more feeling of fullness than this!

Her hand, it was an alien, unexpected feeling upon his hip. He jostled her too much with his thrusts, bent her forward and down against the table too much for her to adequately grab at his body, but still she tried. Was there no end to what she would desire and what she could take? This was glorious! High seas, blowing winds and whirlpools be damned! He now captained Elizabeth Swann and there was no other thing like this in the world! His cock had exalted in the close fit of her, his thrusts met by hers and the spasms of her newly manipulated entrance earning her more and more of the sweet demands he put on her.

Cum, Barbossa wanted her to cum, hungered for the scintillating feel of rhythmic contractions that would grip him solidly and firmly; a woman’s peak of pleasure never felt as keen upon him as it did when wrapped around him in this fashion. Get her to that point, grind it out of her, make her body surrender to a pandemonium Jack or no other man had ever thrust upon her! Without thinking he shortened his strokes, sacrificing depth for speed and force, every muscle in his form flexed and stiffened, ready to give her everything it would muster in order to take everything she had. Faster, he pulled her more against him, disallowing her prior squirming, his cock pounded within her and he moved to its maddening pulse, holding more of her, tighter than Jack could have, moving at his will, stronger than Jack was able, making this half fucking, half exorcism.

Everything, take everything, leave nothing of her unoccupied, unpossessed by some part of him! Elizabeth wanted more, tried to pull him to her but had failed to satisfy her urges; he would not. With one arm he drew her up against him more, leaning over her and kissing her trembling lips, slipping his tongue deep into her mouth as his hand clutched one of her small breasts. She moaned, leaned back against him and begged more of his taste in her mouth, not satisfied until he was tongue fucking her nearly into her throat as he wrung her breast in his strong hand. Having this much of her rattled through him, but it was not in pursuit of release; it was power, pure and unchallenged! But there was still more to be plundered.

Elizabeth was a flowing current of pleasure, taking all that he gave and wondering when it would breach the levees of her sanity. She could feel Barbossa’s hands, Barbossa’s mouth, Barbossa’s cock, in places he didn’t even touch her. Every beat of her racing heart seemed to pump Barbossa’s lechery further and further within her until she could swear she and the Captain had melded into one fiery, sensuous, impious beast. Her breast seemed to melt in his hand; her tongue fused against his, his cock shaped her body to its likeness, all at the same time. She hadn’t even been able to notice that the hand not squeezing her breast was lifting her leg, raising it upwards, bending her knee and then resting it on the table. One of her nipples rubbed teasingly against the table top as the Captain fucked her, the other still embraced by his palm, mouth still over hers, tongue trapping hers, and now his free hand was trailing up her damp inner thigh.

She had to lean against the table now for support as she stood precariously on one foot, her knee and calf of the other leg flat against the table, her thighs now spread wide, cool air embracing the splayed creases and folds of her gender where his body did not. Barbossa broke their kiss, was still for a moment, gasped for a breath as she did the same, hoping he’d continue this assault soon.

“You’re not stopping, are you?” Her breathlessness contradicted her eagerness and she hoped he hadn’t paused on her account.

Barbossa gave a low rumbling laugh as he exhaled heavily and loosened his hold on her, letting both of them rest for a moment. “Yer not thinkin’ a Jack, are ye?”

“No.” She wasn’t. She’d given up trying to. In fact, she didn’t even want to! How could she? Barbossa encompassed her as she strived to encompass him. These few seconds of rest had been welcomed, but now she was anxious for him to move again, whatever it was that was pleasantly growing within her empty sheath demanded it. “Just fuck me,” she moved to kiss him again, but Barbossa’s mouth covered hers roughly before she could take any initiative, his beard scratching against her cheek. His hand, it was traveling upwards again as her tongue was wrestled into submission by his. He thrust forward, reminding her refreshed nerve endings of his firmness, his size, his strength and Elizabeth dissolved beneath him in a moan, pushing back against him, only to feel him withdrawing his cock about half way now and pausing again. “No,” she gasped, able to steal her lips away from his. “Don’t stop. Fuck me! Please!”

Now she begged; the reality shook something that was deeply satisfying within him. The hand on her inner thigh pinched some of her skin sharply, she winced pleasantly against his chest as he pinned her down hard again, then juxtaposed the roughness with a gentle stroke of her hair and head. He leaned over her ear, tickling her neck with his beard as the hand stroking her hair moved down to once again encompass her breast in his fist. “Ask me again.”

His fingertips tickled up nearer the bend of her thigh, she drew in a shuddering breath. “Fuck me,” her voice was low with desire, wanting his cock thrusting into her, gliding over that mysterious spot it so nearly touched. His hand, creeping higher, slowly, it was such a fixating distraction; the suggestion of a stroke or two around her clitoris that his hand seemed to promise.

Barbossa pinched her nipple hard and thrust forward again, giving her his full length, holding it there for a moment as she groaned, her body bearing down in an effort to hold him as she trembled around him, but once more he pulled back. She felt wonderful around him when she squeezed him so, better than even his own seasoned touch. How much longer could he keep her in this state? How much more could he make her beg? “Again,” he whispered to her, and traced her ear with his tongue, wishing he hadn’t felt the sudden jolt of electricity from the head of his cock that rippled down his shaft. He wasn’t ready to end this, not for her, not for him.

The constant start and stop changed the sensations she felt each time she felt them, her body couldn’t have been more disillusioned. Just a little more, it wouldn’t be long, just a few more good, long, steady strokes over that spot within her, and a little fingering, that’s all she required to get there. His cock was in her, his hand so near her dripping folds, but instead he did nothing to aid her state of need. And he pinned her so tightly to the table, she couldn’t move to satisfy herself, she was at his graces. This was so frustratingly unfair! “Must I ask for everything?”

Barbossa smiled, how quickly she seemed to always arrive at the place he wanted her to be. “Elizabeth,” he whispered again, his whole body relaxing above hers as he kissed her temple slowly, watching her eyes flutter shut as she moaned softly. And then, he smiled again, suddenly reviving his roughness with her, clenching her breast in his hand, and shoving his other hand hard between her legs as he thrust forward; cock, fingers, all that he could was within her. “I am yer ‘everythin’!”

There was a sudden inclusion of something firm, sliding easily within her vagina and she froze stiff, the frazzled spot of nerve endings along the upper wall so volatile and so suddenly touched. Both his cock and little finger thrust deep, moving as one force into two separate channels that twisted every delighted fiber of her body to frenzy. A fulfilled shriek built within her, but his mouth was again over hers, his tongue having its way between her lips. His she was now all his; he held her breast, tongued her mouth, fingered her aching channel and fucked her ass. Never before had her body been possessed to overflowing by a man, and she had no choice but to lie beneath him, overwhelmed.

His ring finger snaked its way inside her sheath and he began to set a powerful rhythm, his hand delving in as his cock pulled out, brushing one another within her, pushing and pulling against the spongy mass of nerve endings within her as she strained to hold all of him tight within all of her. And she felt all of him, not just his cock and his fingers, but also his lips on her mouth, his tongue thrusting at hers, his weight upon her, the friction of the hair on his chest against her back as he fucked her; it all blossomed into the same great pressure deep within her. She’d never been so overtaken by sensations, her body shook and shuddered even as orgasm approached, she wanted to scream not just to him, but to the world itself that Captain Hector Barbossa was making her cum so hard she was going to shatter into tiny bits of the universe.

Her mind barely reconciled the paradise of being governed at all points, or of being fucked as though Barbossa were two lovers and not just one. His thumb was edging the pink tucks and gathers surrounding his buried fingers and kept treading all the way up to the impatient bulge her clitoris had become. She doubted she could bear anymore than what she currently felt, but she had learned by now that what she was to feel was not up to her. The pad of his thumb pressed over her swollen nub and began to rub it in a circular fashion, mimicking what his tongue would have done to her.

Something near to a lightening strike spasmed through her, her body crashed down upon his with one violent, seizure like contraction and locked around him. Chilling sensations of his quivering, thrusting cock and fingers reverberated through her the more and more her body tightened, her squeezing him, he expanding back against her. One massive, slow convulsion that seemed to never spring back and held them both joined. Some part of her brain registered Barbossa’s strong body locked above her within the same paralyzing rapture, his mouth free of hers as they both fought for breath, words of some type murmured hoarsely into her hair and against her neck on hot breath, but she didn’t understand them, they were of another language; Portuguese perhaps, she’d heard rumors he was Portuguese. Finally, something let up, faded, allowed air to seep into her lungs once more as this great wave of climax crested again, and then broke over both of them, only to lock her worn body around him again. This intensity was too much, breath stealing, heart stopping, wore her body out with too much pleasure. Elizabeth had tried to fight the tension, refused to be taken under by it again, pounded a fist against the table when the excruciating enchantment seized her once more; she willed her muscles to surrender in their usual convulsions, but to no avail.

His orgasm hit like the crack of a whip, not as intense as hers, and certainly was not lasting as long. He’d let go with mild spasms that he’d hardly felt at all when embraced within her torment, and was only faintly aware of the exit of clear fluid from his empty balls, more spilling from the head of his cock than spurting; more relief than the usual ecstasy. He’d cum with much more intensity than this many times, but after all, this had not been about pleasure. It had been about putting things as right as he could make them, about asserting himself, not so much over Elizabeth, but over Jack within her thoughts and affections. Affections? His cock had softened and slipped from her body nearly instantly, his hand following it, it had seemed ages since he’d put such demands on his own body, and though he was well aware of the magic Calypso had worked, he was shocked he’d been able to last for so long.

But Elizabeth still struggled beneath him, perhaps teased too long with new sensations. It wasn’t fair to leave her to fight this alone, an instinct he could only describe as protective directed him to take her in his strong arms as he stood upright, gently turning her fraught form to face him as she took shelter against him, collapsing in his embrace, her weight against the security of his broad chest as she whimpered with the fit she was in. “Shhhh,” he kissed her forehead lightly then leaned her back against the table again, dropping down to his knees when she steadied. “Cum,” he whispered, lifting her leg over his shoulder, gingerly spreading the lips of her shocked slit. He bent his head forward and drew his tongue from top to bottom; she staggered, gasped and clamped her hands over his shoulders. Barbossa smiled. “Follow me, girl. This ends now.” No more messing about, it was too cruel. He sought out her stiffened clitoris with his lips and sucked it into his warm, wet mouth.

Finally! Elizabeth ground herself against him, her palms flat on the table behind her, supporting her revving body as he sucked her hard and tapped his tongue to the underside of her fevered little organ. From out of nowhere came relief, like a key turning a lock, and the door burst open, swift, strong convulsions sweeping through her groin, the tension finally draining away, leaving her so exhausted that at their end, she melted down the table, into Barbossa’s arms like a wilted flower on the floor. And Jack, was a name no where to be shaped by her mouth, thoughts, or heart.


*My first ever anal sex scene...did I do okay?