Anyone looking through the open parlor window might have seen the
blacksmith taking his wife on the back of the settee. Of course, all the
decent people of Port Royal were long abed, leaving only a scalawag like
Captain Jack Sparrow to witness the Turners' scandalous lack of propriety.
It was quite a sight. Elizabeth balanced unsteadily on the back of the small
sofa, her legs wrapped around Will's, and his hands held tight to her hips
through her voluminous skirts (which sadly, concealed the place where their
bodies met). Her head was thrown back, long curls trailing over the cushions
behind her, and her eyes were squeezed shut; the sweat beading on her brow
sparkling in the candlelight. Will's face was hidden in her neck and his
shapely arse peeped out from under his shirt with every thrust of his hips.
Quite a sight indeed. Enough to make Jack unbutton his breeches and stroke
himself as he continued to watch avidly.
Elizabeth clung fiercely to Will's shoulders, fearful that she would tumble
right over the back of the settee. And yet that very uncertainty -- the
precariousness of her position, the way the wood cut into her backside --
only made it that much more exciting. Will increased his pace, and repeated,
as if he knew her fear, "I've got you, I've got you. . ."
The angle was maddening, enough to incite Elizabeth's lust, but too shallow
to bring her complete satisfaction. Will's mouth ghosted over her neck, a
whisper of breath prickling at the skin. Unexpectedly, he bit down, right
where her neck met her shoulder, making her whimper. She shifted her hips
and wrapped her legs more firmly around his.
Will seemed close now, his speech disjointed and marked by panting breaths
and barely suppressed moans.
"Shh," Elizabeth whispered mischievously, "You don't want to rouse the
He looked toward the window, and stiffened, then spent himself with a loud
groan. In the next instant, he toppled her over the side of the settee.
Elizabeth gasped in surprise as a different pair of strong, calloused hands
caught her and bent her over the arm of the sofa, flipping up her skirts. A
familiar beringed hand fumbled at her bodice, loosening it and pulling her
breasts free. Needy, pleading sounds fell from her lips as his rough fingers
dragged across the sensitive skin.
Jack spread Elizabeth's legs a bit further apart, then swiftly buried
himself in her juicy cunny. She had not yet had her release, and drove back
to meet him with a desperate wantonness. Her breasts, forced high and full
by her bodice, fit neatly into his hands and she made the most delightful
noises when he rolled her nipples between his fingers. Pushing her hair out
of the way, Jack found the mark Will had left on her. He tongued at it,
imagining he could taste Will on her skin, and then moved his mouth to the
other side and bit down in the exact same spot. She cried out then, the
cushions muffling the sound.
Will, who had been braced on the back of the settee catching his breath,
rolled over the top of it, landing on the pillows propped against the
opposite arm. He sprawled forward and swallowed up Elizabeth's moans with a
Jack gripped the arm of the settee and thrust harder. Upholstery bunched
under his clenched fingers and the sofa creaked ominously. Will reached
between Elizabeth's legs and it took only a moment before she tensed,
keening wildly against Will's mouth. Jack fell right behind her, gritting
his teeth to keep from shouting.
Will tenderly pulled his wife onto the settee, where she stretched out with
her head in his lap, skirts spilling willy-nilly off the side. Jack sat down
on the other end, lifting Elizabeth's feet and setting them in his lap, then
clapping his arm around Will's shoulders. Will kissed him, a slow satisfied
kiss full of banked fire and muted promises. Elizabeth sighed contentedly
and snuggled up to them both.
"Jack, you should have told us you were coming," she chided. "I'd have baked
you a cake."
Jack grazed his fingers over the top of her bare foot, then lifted it to his
mouth and pressed a kiss into the high arch. "I think I've had all the
sweets I can stand, Mistress Turner. Thank you kindly all the same."
Will snickered and tossed a bolster at him, which Jack caught and stuffed
behind his head. He propped his feet on the low table before him and rolled
his shoulders. "It's been too long."
"Yes, it has," Will said sternly. "We've missed you terribly."
"Yes," Elizabeth chimed in, "And you're a horrible correspondent. I'll wager
we've had no more than three letters from you these past four months."
Will nodded. "As recompense, you must tell us of all the adventures you've
had while you've been away."
Before Jack could launch into one of his tales, Elizabeth stifled a yawn.
"Tomorrow, if you please? Between one thing and another," she cut her
eyes at the two men, with a bawdy grin, "I find I'm quite fatigued."