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Emily’s First Night with Conner

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Conner’s rough wind worn lips pressed to her soft ones once more and she was glad for it. Somewhere inside her head a voice cried out for her to deny this monster and his desires and hers. You can’t give yourself to a pirate. You can’t become a pirate yourself. This has gone too far stop it while you can. The voice was small and weak and wrong. She had less of a problem letting herself be taken by a pirate then she would have giving herself over to the dirty old men in her Father’s social circle.

She had come to this tavern in the hopes of escaping for just a night the propriety and customs of her life and now saw an opportunity to cast that whole life aside for a new life of freedom and adventure. It had gone too far and already she knew she could not stop it and all trying at this point might achieve is getting her hurt. His rough fingers, which had been gently stroking the soft skin of her throat moved as many had before to the strings of her bodice and began to unlace it. Any other man had always been rebuffed at this point but she welcomed the loosening fabric around her breasts and the touch that was sure to follow. Even as she began to anticipate that touch his lips began to loosen around hers and he pulled back. Her mind returned to itself and she looked once more on the dark haired man with the tanned scarred skin kneeling on the bed. His legs were straddling her left knee and that small voice in her head demand she raise that knee swiftly before he finished undoing the buttons on his breeches but her eyes remained fixed in those dark green pools and her body drunkenly limp despite the excitement and fear pumping through her. “Will it hurt?”

“Ta, but not much and not fer long if ya let it happen and don’t fight it.” Captain Teirly unhooked the last button and as he pushed down his only remaining garment Emily’s gaze broke from his eyes. She had seen the hall boys pleasure themselves through the crack of her door at night; she had felt the stiffness pressed against her through layers of fabric as some ‘proper gentleman’ tried to force himself on her; but never had she seen a man’s fully aroused organ so close that she could see the lines ridges and contours of it. Whether desire or apprehension brought it on Emily could not be sure but the long shuddering breathe that left her was the only testament she offered to give voice to the flood of confused emotions (the confusion compounded by the weight of the rum which lay heavy upon her mind) that swirled in her as she gazed at this strange new sight. That thing will be pushed inside you and tear out the virtue you have defended for nearly twenty years. It will leave you bloody and sore and forever ruined for a descent marriage. The voice was growing weaker though its words still added to her fear. For all her curiosity it did not appear gentle or forgiving; in fact judging by the soreness she had been known to feel after her own explorations with just the tips of her fingers she felt sure any attempt to put the firm length of flesh into her unsoiled orifice would be no less then excruciating. Still she couldn’t look away, she wanted to touch it. To feel the ridges and coutures of the taunt skin under fingers would make it even more real. Perhaps then you’d be properly afraid of what it’s going to do to you and regain some sanity.

As her mind pushed the voice back down again she felt Conner’s rough finger tip brushing her shoulders and felt the fabric of her top being pulled away. With what seemed like considerable effort she raised her arms to let this happen. As the fabric pulled over her head and off her wrists she tried to let the heavy limbs fall but her right wrist was firmly held in Conner’s left hand so it did not fall but hung slack from his grip. She looked up at her hand and her gaze followed as it was guided to the shaft of warm skin protruding from his hips. The second her palm felt the warmth of the organ against her skin she wrapped her slender fingers around it. She had been right this did make it more real. It was unlike any other piece of flesh she had touched. Her hand explored the length of his member slowly at first taking in as much of the sensations as she could. She slid her hand back and forth as she had seen the servants sleeping in the windows do to their own shafts building a steady rhythm. Unknowing of the pleasure she brought she broke her rhythm to let her thumb explore the odd textures and softness of the head. While she associated it with the point of an arrow or a sword it seemed spongier then the rest of the tissue and this to her was counter intuitive in her mind. Captain Teirly gave a light hissing moan and she looked up in time to feel his lips meet hers. Her hands stopped moving with the rum upon her she could not focus on both tasks at the same time and as curious as she was about his phallus and the reactions she could get with it; a kiss was a familiar pleasure at this point and she was beginning to crave it. He pulled her to him and rolled onto his side and she followed. Emily was now lost in the kiss exploring his mouth shamelessly. His hands pulling her tighter to him and massaging her breast felt like sand and silk. Conner pulled back a bit and broke the kiss. Smiling he snaked his unpinned arm between them and with vicious yank rent the waist of the home spun maids skirt. Emily started and a small yelp escaped her. The dragon, the predator, the pirate; how were all those things becoming so easy to forget yet so quick to surface every time it’s too late to uncross the line. She opened her mouth to speak but he silenced her with a grinning shake of his head.

“Not to worry Miss Emily you’ll be all the more wanton when we leave. I’m just getting you ready for Prima Nocta. Keep yer hand busy though lest I forget my customs.” The dragon was back behind those green eyes and Emily resumed her pace and quickened again almost immediately as his hand moved into the tear in the waist of her dress and crept through the light down of hair toward the part of her legs. She reflexively tensed her legs to keep the hand from seeking between her legs but then as she was about to relax she felt a question rise through the rum in her mind and make its way down to her mouth. When she parted her lips to let it out it clearly it must have stumbled because what she heard was:

“Swots Primo Knocker?” Which simply was not the question that had presented itself to her mind. The question in her mind had been far more eloquent and dignified. Of course how does one manage dignified when stroking a strange man’s cock while he paws between your legs? Emily wanted to know how this voice, sharing the same head full of rum she now occupied, was forming such functional chains of words. Then something outside her head caught her attention.

“… in the Captain’s Quarters.”

” Wha?”

“Prima Nocta.”

“Yes that! What’s it mean… I mean other then ‘first night’ of cour-”

“Not now!” He half moaned as the hand underneath her tightened its grip and she remembered that the warm, rigid, throbbing, thing had been getting progressively warmer, harder, and more irradicatily throbbing. She was sure this meant something. Suddenly Conner went very stiff all over and his hand gripping her shoulder clamped like a vice and he groaned a deep animal groan suddenly each stroke brought a thick warm discharge the first struck her arm then her belly. She looked down in morbid curiosity to watch as the milky fluid leapt from the pulsating red bulb of flesh and landed on her dark tan skin. She suspected if she weren’t amazed she had accomplished anything in her mind addled state she would have been disgusted at having had this man’s seed on her skin but in her current state it seemed almost amusing. She looked back into his wide eyed panting face.

“So what is Prima Nocta?”

“First night aboard her first pirate ship a pirate lass must spend in the Captain’s Quarters.”

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