He shows absolutely no signs of going anywhere, and James is not going to be able to make Sparrow move without this not ending in an orgasm, and that's something that, at this stage in the proceedings, he simply cannot permit. Somehow, amid the assault of sensation, a note of panic finds its way into James' brain, until it hits him in a rush that maybe somehow, inexplicably, the insane pirate wants this.
He looks down; Sparrow's eyes are closed tight, his lips wet and red stretched around James' hardness, his tongue unseen but doing gorgeous, incredible, unspeakable things. He wants this.
And that's it; James surges up onto the balls of his feet, feeling Sparrow's throat work around him as he climaxes. Tight, almost painful surges of sensation as his orgasm is torn out of him with a groan, and black dots wink before his eyes. But there is Jack Sparrow, a trail of white streaked down his chin, swallowing his fluid until he has nothing left and he sinks back down, trembling, against the tree trunk.
After a moment to compose himself, he looks down at Sparrow, who's licking his lips absently. James shakes his head.
'Why did you do that?' He asks. It does not nearly serve to communicate everything going on in his head, but at the moment, it is quite definitely the best he can do.
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He shows absolutely no signs of going anywhere, and James is not going to be able to make Sparrow move without this not ending in an orgasm, and that's something that, at this stage in the proceedings, he simply cannot permit. Somehow, amid the assault of sensation, a note of panic finds its way into James' brain, until it hits him in a rush that maybe somehow, inexplicably, the insane pirate wants this.
He looks down; Sparrow's eyes are closed tight, his lips wet and red stretched around James' hardness, his tongue unseen but doing gorgeous, incredible, unspeakable things. He wants this.
And that's it; James surges up onto the balls of his feet, feeling Sparrow's throat work around him as he climaxes. Tight, almost painful surges of sensation as his orgasm is torn out of him with a groan, and black dots wink before his eyes. But there is Jack Sparrow, a trail of white streaked down his chin, swallowing his fluid until he has nothing left and he sinks back down, trembling, against the tree trunk.
After a moment to compose himself, he looks down at Sparrow, who's licking his lips absently. James shakes his head.
'Why did you do that?' He asks. It does not nearly serve to communicate everything going on in his head, but at the moment, it is quite definitely the best he can do.