A Pirate's Life for Me!
A short-story gift for * _ ZyferWulf _ * (ooh sparkly sparkly!). Please note that this story contains sex, the common mistakes one makes when writing a first draft and lots of awesomeness. If you are under 18, keep reading, just skip from "experimental stroke" to "knelt between his footpaws".
Rate, comment, criticise and enjoy :)
Rollo looked out over the waves, a worried frown creasing his handsome black face. The wind was picking up, forcing him to shove his greying fringe out of his eyes so he could see what was going on. It had been three days since they had passed the straights of Maghellan, three tortuous, blistering days. Some of the crew had even begun to doubt they would ever reach Element Bay. He sighed irritably. Too young to be a sea-dog, too old to be lackey, he had joined this voyage with the understanding that they were going to make a new life for themselves in a faraway place. Somewhere where the Privateers were not so frequent and the women dripped with jewels and generosity. Some dream.
He started to despise the constant wind, cursing its mother and brothers and children mercilessly. He was feeling listless, they all were. He huffed and growled and ducked down below, heading for the kitchens. He was too old to be a kitchen boy, too, but the crew had let him on after he beat one of them senseless with his own leg. They had given him the downed seaman's berth on the spot. Well? He wasn't using it...
Marty grinned when he came in. He was fond of the stocky little mongrel, as were they all. Rollo grinned back and started to help tie things down. But Cookie wasn't having any of it. "Now, we don't need you here, boy." He waved him off, not unkindly.
The younger male sighed, heading further into the bowels of the old ship. He passed a storeroom and ducked inside. His irritation and general frustration had affected his mood, and his body interpreted it in a very particular way. He was aching for release and he knew that with the wind screeching around them the crew would be too busy to notice he was gone, for a while anyway. He found himself a spot on some sacks, further into the shadows. It was quieter in this part of the ship, the timbers on her hull twice as thick. He gave himself an experimental stroke through his rough canvas trousers, feeling the throbbing ache subside a little with the pressure. He leaned back and made himself comfortable, pulling his bottoms down over his furry backside, thick tail springing free of the fabric with a happy wag. His paw went straight to his pointed member, bringing it to life with practiced strokes. He had been at sea long enough to get pretty good at this.
No amount of pawing could compare to feeling slick, warm flesh wrapped around you though. His low moans of pleasure turned into growls of frustration at the thought. He jumped up, cock still in his paw, inspecting the pile in the corner for the soft leather he knew was stored there. The Captain would kill him if he was found using expensive materials to get off but right now he really didn't care. He rooted through the oilskin-wrapped parcels, searching desperately. He grabbed something smooth and flexible and yanked it out, thinking it must be what he sought. His jaw dropped when he saw what he held. He stood there, almost fully erect meat hanging and forgotten.
It was a quoll.
Its brown eyes looked at him with a limpid terror, small pink tongue licking nervously at its lips. It was almost his height but very slender. And female, he realised. "Are you a st...stowaway?" he asked dumbly, his brain addled with need and surprise.
She turned those doe-eyes up to full wattage. "Hungry." She had a very thick accent and obviously spoke little or no canine. Nevertheless, he knew immediately she wasn't talking about food. Her gaze was flicking back and forth between his face and his crotch, her paws and tail-area distinctly damp.
He stood her gently on the floor, stroking her velvety fur as he did so. She was a delicate wheat colour, her beautiful dapples shining and rippling in the low light. The strange, lithe little creature licked his nose with her tongue, lapping at his maw. He licked back, wrapping his arms around her from the front. She squrimed in his grasp, lowering herself until she was close enough to his sex to taste it. So she did.
Her raspy little licks and expert pawing felt so good. Rollo gasped as her tiny teeth pricked him every now and again. He was getting really worked up, her silky, snuggly movements made it hard to keep the noise down. He was panting like a bull-dog in a sauna now, craving her heat. He pushed her gently away and walked over to the sacks again, not sure if he could even wait that long. She followed, much to his relief. He pulled her onto his lap and turned her so that her back was facing him. He hesitated a bit when he saw how wide he was compared to her body. His rod wasn't exactly massive, it's just that she was so very narrow down there.
He barely had time to worry, however. With a graceful spring she pounced backwards into him, her nethers flush with his rapidly-growing desire. He hugged her tightly around the front and pushed himself a short way in. She squirmed and wriggled so he waited for a few seconds to try and calm down a bit. Her wet muscles felt really strong on him, stroking him so he could barely think straight. He explored her front with his paws, feeling her smaller ones pull his down her belly. He slid one paw onto her slit. No. Not her slit, he realised... A pouch! He felt around till he found her nipples and squeezed, tickled and rubbed them so her breath became ragged and she impaled herself further onto him. He started to thrust very sowly in and out, pulling her up and down on his shaft with his paws, still feeling her nipples.She wrapped her forepaws round the back of his head, pulling it forward so his muzzle rested on her shoulder. He snuffed her delicate smell happily, freeing up one paw to roam a little further down until it did reach her sex. He slipped first one and then another clawed digit into the slippery opening, shoving them in alongside his pulsing flesh. It was a very tight squeeze, so he decided to leave it there. She began bucking up and down on him, urging him on. Without needing any encouragement he pushed into her harder and faster until he felt his knot start to bump at her, trying to gain entry. He pulled away a little, wrapping his own paw around it and clamping on tight while she pushed into him as hard as she could. He felt himself spill thick folds of creamy goodness into her, heating her up even more. She held still, enjoying the sensation for a while. When he had finished she climbed gently off him and knelt between his footpaws, licking first him and then herself throughly clean. He lay back, exhausted and finally relieved.
The storm had calmed down enough for him to hear voices now, and he thought he had better leave. The slinky quoll, blinking happily and thoroughly sated, grinned serenely and curled up to go to sleep. He picked her up and placed her gently inbetween two barrels, where no one would see her. As he turned around he felt a delicate paw on his hind leg and turned to see a questioning look on her face. He shook his head kindly. "No, I won't tell them you're here." She sniffed happily and curled back up. He walked out into a still-gray world, only he was less grumpy than when he'd first sought refuge in the darkness. He whistled to himself, stopping just before someone caught him.
He was definitely going to have to visit the storage berths again before they weighed anchor in Element Bay.