Molly Mcbride

Oh, he was a pretty lad, he was, with dark eyes that flashed with the mysteries of the deep seas. He was dressed too fine for a common sailor, and I fancied that he must be a gent, coming down to the tavern on the wharf to get a look at the vessels as they came into port.

"Well, I thought," as I caught his eye. "I have two vessels here that need a harbor for the night." I lifted my hands to briefly cup my ample bosom, winking at him broadly. If all went according to my plan, I would have him nestled between my thighs within the hour to take my pleasure. Then, while he slept off the effects of the rum and sex, I would lift his purse and toss him back onto the dock.

A pirate's life is a good one, I always say.

My nipples strained against the thin muslin covering my breasts and I pinched them between my fingers. He stared, seemingly mesmerized as I rolled them back and forth, back and forth. The heat pooled between my thighs and I ground my hungry cunt into the wooden bench I straddled. Maybe I'd have him twice before getting him too drunk to do aught but sleep.

Or, perhaps, why stop at two? A sturdy man such as he could surely go three or four times before sinking to half-hast.

Suddenly, I noticed he was rising and flipping a final coin to the tavern wench. I lifted my leg over the bench and rose, as well, making a great show out of smoothing my skirts and adjusting my bodice. Then, I sauntered in his direction, catching him as he was about to exit.

"Walk a girl home, love?" I cooed at him. He chuckled, a nice, deep sound and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I might," he laughed, "If you were a girl and I was sure you had a home that was on dry land."

I winked at him. "Oh, I'm a girl."

I leaned in and laid my palm flat against his smoothly shaved cheek and pressed my mouth to his ear. "Just one lift of my skirts and you'll see to that."

He smiled down at me and ran his finger across the bared tops of my breasts. "Show me," he dared. I glanced around the room. Half the men in there had already seen what I was about to expose to him, but why give the other half a free gander?

"Outside," I said.

He followed me out the tavern door, but hesitated when I made a move to the alley.

"Not there. Over here, under the window, where there is enough light to see."

And enough light to keep himself safe. Perhaps he wasn't quite as naive as he looked. Still, I stepped toward him and settled myself back against the crates and barrels at the front of the tavern. Flashing him a smile, I lifted my skirts to the tops of my thighs, showing him my bare skin and the tuft of hair that curled along my cleft. He reached out and ran a finger along my slit, crooking the end a little to tug on my clit.

"Molly McBride," he murmured. "Piratess and thief. If you're looking to rob me, I warn you. I haven't a gold coin to my name."

"A toff like you?" I laughed, not believing him. "But, that's all right, love. There are others about. Let's just have a little fun, then go back in for a drink."

"An'," I added, "If you're as poor as all that, I will buy."

He raised his eyebrows, but continued to explore between my legs. I won't deny, it made my legs quiver right down to my knees. I could feel myself opening up to him and the juices begin to wind through the soft puffs of hair that covered my mound.

"You want to be fucked, Molly McBride?" he asked conversationally. "I think first you're going to have to get me hard."

I grinned at that. If he thought he was issuing a challenge I would not take, he was sore mistaken. No one could deep throat a cock like Molly McBride. It was one of the perks of being under my command, and all my men knew that. If the captain was hungry for a taste of a man's pork, it was up to the crew to oblige her. And oblige they did. Happily. All of them.

I sank to my knees and opened his breeches. His shaft nestled there, just beginning to stiffen. I pursed my lips and directed a steady, warm stream of air from tip to base, then followed it with a gentle touch of my finger along the same route. I sensed him catch his breath and I smiled to myself. Have to get him hard, indeed. I planned on getting him so hard he'd be begging for release.

My lips hovered just a scant thumb's width from the head of his cock. His breathing seemed to grow a bit harsher as I leaned in close. A dewy drop of pre-cum slowly oozed out of the eye and glimmered in the yellow light that fell from the tavern window. I touched the gleam with the tip of my tongue and smeared it over the head of his cock.

His breath caught in his throat.

With my lips pursed, I rested my mouth at the very tip of his manhood. I kept my lips taut as I pushed against his cock with my mouth. Slowly . . . agonizingly slowly, his cock edged through the tight seal. I kept the pressure on him until the length of his shaft was buried in my throat.

My right hand eased his breeches down further so I could stroke and tug on his balls. He twined his fingers through my hair and tried to move my mouth up and down on his member, but I was determined to do it in my own time. I tightened my lips against the base and squeezed his balls in a warning until, with a groan, he released my hair. Then, and only then, did I began the lengthy journey back up the shaft, pausing at the tip to give a hard suck on the head.

Up and down my mouth moved, in slow, deliberate strokes. My right hand continued to torment his balls, while my left reached to rub his belly, pinch his nipples, grip his ass. His hips began rocking, picking up speed, which I matched with the rhythm of my lips and tongue.

Eventually, I moved my left hand to the base of his cock and began chasing my mouth up and down the shaft. His cock danced and throbbed under my expert fingers, and his sighs became gasps, then moans as he approached his peak. I gripped him firmly, squeezing and releasing as I glided my hand up and down his shaft. He bucked and murmured and then suddenly arched back, thrusting his hips forward, burying his cock deep in my throat.

I seized his cock at the base and squeezed as tightly as possible. My right-hand fingers sought for, and found, the tube through which his ejaculate would travel. I pressed against that as well, damming the pathway, forcing his cum to stay within his balls, which seemed to swell and grow feverish hot with his need to release.

He writhed and groaned against me, his curses so loud that I felt amazed no one came out of the tavern to see what the ruckus was. Or, perhaps, they knew. Many of the men in my crew had, at one time or another, been punished in just this way, and then locked into belts which would not allow them the satisfaction of relieving their urges.

I rocked back on my heels, smirking at the look on his face. "Did that make you hard enough?"

His arm shot out so fast I had no time to react. He had me whirled around, my skirts up over my hips and his cock buried in my cunt before I even knew what he was thinking.

"Oh, I'm hard," he ground out as he plunged in and out of me. He cock danced and dipped and my cunt began to cling to it as though it were a soft silken glove upon a steel hand.

He wrapped his hand in my hair and yanked my head back, pressing his lips to my exposed neck and biting it lightly. The pain intensified the pleasure and I moved against him, nipples and clit on fire with an aching need to explode. He stiffened and began to spurt into me. I writhed faster, my hand dropping to my clit to whirl against and tease the small bud so I could have my own release.

I was close, so close, when his hand dropped over mine, stilling it. My hips kept moving, and it wasn't until the cold edge of the blade dug into my neck that I realized he had shifted his weight so I was held captive.

"And now, Lady Pirate," he murmured. "Let me introduce myself. Jack Connor, Gentleman of the Seas. And I think I *will* fulfill your request to escort you back to your home."

I felt the blood in my veins turn from summer hot to winter ice in the span of a breath. Gentleman Jack. One of the youngest of our kind, and already a pirate scourge. Despite his outwardly gentlemanly demeanor, his talent for sadism made even the toughest pirate quail.

He moved so the tip of the blade dropped and lifted the bottom of my bodice, the sharp point pressed just under my ribs. "Walk," he commanded. "And tell me about my new ship as we go. I think I shall like captaining her"

He grinned. "And you, Lady Pirate. I think I shall like being your master as well."

I walked, my eyes fixed in front of me. Better to let him think he had won. Time enough later to set the young lad straight. And when I did, I planned to be far away from land.

After all, at sea, no one can hear you scream.