He smiled, and that dashing smile made my dick give a little surge under my shirt. “Miles,” he corrected, one of his fingers tapping me on the tip of my nose like I was a pup before his hands went to his own jacket buttons. He removed the black coat and draped it over his desk, then pulled off the starched neckerchief at his throat, laying that aside too, and then his waistcoat, leaving him in just his shirtsleeves on top. His hand moved up to one of the buttons of his shirt, and my breath caught audibly in my throat. I had seen some of the crew shirtless, or even with less than that, but I had not seen Captain Ambrose looking anything other than fully polished and starched, like he had just come from the tailor’s. His fingers paused at the top button. “What was that, Jamie?” he said with a small smirk that made me shiver.
I licked my lips, suddenly feeling like I had been standing in the hot sun for hours with nothing to drink. “I…” Words tried to form in my throat, but they did not connect to my brain, and I just stared mindlessly at him, my hands braced against the wall behind me.
Ambrose carefully undid the first button, and then the second, starting to reveal snatches of his sleek, muscular chest. “Yes?” he purred, pausing at the third button. “Another?”
I nodded silently, not sure my mouth would work, and he undid the third button, opening his shirt up to just below his pecs, the creamy tan of his skin showing through. My hands itched to rip open the last few buttons, my cock giving another eager jump under my shirt, but I stayed where I was, sure I looked like a landed fish with my staring eyes and open mouth.
“Hmm,” Ambrose mused as he undid another button, and then another, and another, until his shirt gaped open, but not as wide as I had hoped to show off his musculature. He brought his hands up to fastidiously undo the buttons at the cuffs of his sleeves, each one taking a thousand years, I was sure. Once the cuffs were undone, without glancing at me, he toed off his boots and leisurely bent to put them side by side under the desk. The motion caused his shirt to gape wide, and I heard a small whimper come from my throat. It seemed he heard it too, because he smirked just a bit, but he did not look my way. He slid his shirt off and down his shoulders, folding it neatly on the desk with his coat before he turned to me, now wearing only his breeches. I gasped and felt my pink cheeks go scarlet as I took in his muscular torso, his arms sinewy and strong, his chest smooth and defined, with a dark patch of hair that started under his pecs and moved down his body to disappear into his trousers. The front of them bulged with his engorged cock, and my eyes kept drifting back to it even as I tried to drink in the sight of the rest of him.
Ambrose suddenly paced toward me, and before I could do much more than gasp, he had scooped me up in his arms, holding me like a child. I was curled against him, feeling his warmth, the salty tang of the sea on his skin tickling my nose like an exotic perfume. He carried me easily, as if I weighed no more than a doll, setting me down on one of his heavy, cushioned chairs. My shirt rode up a little, and he was suddenly kneeling in front of me, his hands on my bare knees. He pushed them apart, which made me slide down in the chair a bit, spreading me wide for him to look at. I blushed and gave a small wiggle as my knees tried instinctually to close, to hide myself from his scrutiny, but he only pushed them wider, lifting my knees up to drape them over the carved arms of the chair. The cool wood dug into my burning thighs, the sensation of having myself so exposed to someone both mortifying and exhilarating.
“You’re so pretty, lad,” Ambrose purred, his hand moving to push my shirt up my stomach, fully baring my torso. “Your ass would make angels weep.”
The words tickled my skin like silk, and my cock gave another small jump. My hands held onto the chair arms as Ambrose’s laughter rumbled close to my legs. And then suddenly he was between my thighs, and the head of my cock was in his mouth. I jumped as the unfamiliar but incredible wet heat enveloped me, letting out a sound that might have been an attempt at a curse but got stuck along the way. His lips closed around my shaft, and he sucked on me in a way that made white flickers dance in front of my eyes.
His mouth rocked further down on me, then back up again, and my moans began to follow the rhythm of his lips as they slid up and down, the tip of his tongue gliding up the underside of my cock. Each movement of his mouth filled me with a pleasure I had never experienced before, so much better than that of my own hand. He slid down further, and my eyes closed as the world tipped, a throaty cry escaping my lips. And then his hand was cupping my balls, stroking and squeezing them, alternating between pleasure and not quite pain that sent the room spinning like we were in a whirlpool.
I knew I wasn’t going to last long as his mouth kept up the steady pace, my hands gripping the arms of the chair by my spread knees, my hips writhing against the velvet seat. I tried to choke out a warning, but Ambrose’s mouth just worked harder at me, and the words lodged in my throat along with my breath. My hips pushed up eagerly towards his mouth once, twice, and then I spilled into his mouth, in the first release of my life not caused by my own touch. His mouth stayed on me, his tongue teasing and stroking the slit and head of my cock, draining every drop of my seed from it as the overly sensitive skin made me squirm and whimper. And then he pulled back with a wet sound, and I forced my eyes open through heavy lids to meet his. He wiped his lips that were red from his ministrations as his dark eyes grinned at me. My chest heaved under my shirt, my thighs quivering where the chair held them spread open. His smile was as intoxicating as the ship’s rum and made my stomach flip inside of me as my cock gave another little twitch.
Ambrose leaned over me, his tongue pushing past my teeth to tangle with mine, and I could taste myself. My hands unclenched from the chair arms to slide up around his neck, fingers curling into his hair as I quivered under him, my tongue wrestling with his own, less confident but no less eager.
Ambrose finally pulled back to gaze at me, still so close that I could almost feel the brush of his stubble on my face. “That’s a good lad,” he purred, giving my cheek a tender kiss.
I blushed red and averted my eyes shyly as my fingers tangled further into his dark hair. “That was incredible.”
Ambrose laughed at that. “I’m glad to hear it. It would feel even more incredible with my cock in your ass.”
His words sent heat down my chest into my groin and my lower back, making me squirm on the chair as my softening dick seemed to find renewal in his words. Ambrose flashed me a brilliant smile. “Seems like you might agree.”
My smile was shyer than I meant it to be, but I slowly nodded. “I… I think I would like that.”
Ambrose’s eyes twinkled, and he gently unwrapped my legs from the arms of the chair. “Stand up.”
I wasn’t sure if my legs would listen to me, but I carefully got to my feet, my shirt once again falling over me in a way that made me feel more like a child than a man. Ambrose gave me another kiss, harder and rougher this time, pulling me against his bare chest. I nuzzled my nose into it, inhaling the sea air smell. He laughed softly and stroked my hair before catching my chin in his hand. “Turn around.”
I did as he asked, and he suddenly grasped my hands and pulled them down so I was bent over the chair at the waist, holding the arms of the chair for support. I shivered, adjusting my feet to find a good balance. My shirt hung down and open like a sail, and Ambrose pushed it up over my ass. Cool air met my skin, and I shivered. Ambrose leaned down to press a kiss to the small of my back, making me squirm. “Spread your legs for me, Jamie,” he prompted, and, despite the slightly embarrassed blush that flooded my whole body, I moved my legs further apart as he asked.
His hands slid down, each one grasping a globe of flesh, and he squeezed it firmly. I gasped, leaning back into his hands. “Captain…”
“Miles,” he corrected again.
“Miles,” I said softly, glancing over my shoulder at him. He gave me a rakish grin, giving my cheeks another squeeze before he pulled them suddenly apart, and cold air met my virgin pucker of flesh. I squirmed, holding tighter to the arms of the chair, before I felt the press of his lips against the spot. I started to protest, but the sound became only a squeak when his tongue dipped out and stroked over the tight ring of muscle, causing it to clench even tighter.
Ambrose laughed, and I felt the brush of his stubble between my ass cheeks before he let go of one of them, and suddenly two fingers were at my lips. “Suck,” he ordered. My mouth obediently opened, and the two fingers plunged inside. I gasped, trying to find a way to close my lips around them, then let out a rather embarrassing whine as his tongue brushed over my hole again. My own tongue darted over his fingertips, and he curled them a little. My mouth watered, and I tried to suck on them, jerking a little as his tongue brushed back and forth across my entrance, tickling and teasing and sending little jolts through me that felt so good I forgot to breathe. I moaned around his fingers and sucked on them as best I could, making little mewling sounds in my throat as he laved over me. I wanted to imitate his earlier movements on my cock on the fingers in my mouth, to give him a little pleasure, but I was so distracted by his tongue delving around my hole that I couldn’t focus on much more than not drooling. Then his tongue breached my entrance, and I almost lost my balance with my arms, letting out a moan around his fingers that sounded whorish even to my ears. He laughed, and I felt the rumble in my tight passage as his tongue slid in further, then out, then back in again, lapping at me as his fingers sank deeper into my mouth, so deep it nearly brought tears to my eyes.
I don’t know how long the movements of his tongue lasted. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours; I couldn’t tell as my cock hardened and strained, my hips pushing back toward him even as his fingers began to thrust in and out of my mouth with abandon, and I was unable to do anything except let him. He suddenly pulled away from my ass, my hole quivering at the loss of his warmth, and I let out a whimper. He chuckled softly, giving me another squeeze. “So eager, lad. Don’t worry, I’ll be in you soon enough.”
His words flooded my veins with heat, and I moaned louder before his fingers pulled out of my mouth, a long, sticky trail of saliva following them. I risked letting go of one of the chair arms to swipe at my mouth with my sleeve, then grabbed it again as the fingers were suddenly at my hole, the first one pushing inside and sliding deeper than I expected. The burn made me wince, but after my passage clenched around the digit and then relaxed, the finger began to pull out and push back in, and each thrust was easier than the last. I moaned softly, shifting to spread my legs even wider, and then cried out as his other finger slid inside of me too. I gripped the chair arms tighter, trying hard not to clench or pull away from him.
“Good lad,” he soothed, his fingers starting to work in and out of my tight passage. I whimpered softly, biting my lower lip. His fingers spread me wide, and I gasped, hips bucking a little. My cock strained where it was, so hard it rested against my stomach even bent over as I was. And then his tongue was down by his fingers, licking over my hole, sliding inside me a few times before being replaced by his fingers again. I moaned breathlessly, feeling almost feverish under him.
“Stay there,” he purred against the small of my back, and I obediently held tight to the chair arms, staying bent over as I was. And then Ambrose’s fingers and mouth were gone, and he was up and moving away from me. I heard a breathless whimper escape my throat, and Ambrose chuckled. I craned my neck to catch sight of him. He was at his dressing table, where he selected a blue cut-glass bottle. He came back to me, pulling the stopper out, and the spiced, exotic smell of one of his oils met my nose. My heart gave a little hop in my chest, realizing that I would smell like him with that on my skin.
I felt his warmth press up against my ass from behind. I gasped, then whimpered softly as I felt the head of his cock nudge at my entrance, slicked with the oil. He felt impossibly large, and I fought the urge to pull away. “Shh,” Ambrose murmured in my ear, one hand holding himself in position against me, the other wrapping around my waist to gently stroke my cock with his fingers. My hips bucked toward the touch, his own hips following mine, and then the head of his cock entered me. I cried out softly as the heavy heat pushed slowly and methodically inside, stretching me wider than I could have imagined.
“Good lad,” Ambrose soothed in my ear again. “You can take it. Just relax.” His fingers continued to move over my cock as he pushed further and further into me. I tried to relax as he suggested, though my body fought me most of the way until I felt his hips press up firmly against me from behind. “There now,” he soothed, giving my cock another languid stroke. “There’s a good lad.”
He was still, his heat warm against my back as I gripped the chair arms, trembling a little as my body fought to adjust around him. His fingers caressed over the tip of my cock, made slick with a drop of seed he found there, and I moaned, my hips unconsciously rolling at the touch. Ambrose slid his thumb up, a bead of my desire still on it, pressing it to my lips. I obediently licked it off, shivering, then let out a cry as his hips pulled back and then pushed into me again. His thumb brushed my throat, as if to quell the noise. “Shh now,” he said in my ear, his stubble grazing my skin as he bent over me. “It will pass.” He held my waist with one arm, sliding his other hand down to play with my cock as he started to move inside of me.
