fanfic: Naval Breeches
Title: Naval Breeches
Author: txorakeriak
Pairing: Sparrington
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Blahblah, Mouse. Take what you can, give nothing back.
Summary: “Those naval breeches always make me come in my pants.”
Length: 156 words
Beta courtesy: darling aradiria *glomps*
A/N: written for supes_ as a response to my icon drabble meme
*****
Jack had seen the Commodore bending over his desk, sweat dripping from his face, his soaked shirt clinging to the man’s muscular upper body.
He had caressed, gripped and kneaded the Commodore’s firm buttocks through the cloth of his breeches.
He had felt the Commodore’s erection press against the restrictive breeches, stroked it through the cloth, savouring the gasps and moans of pleasure that escaped the Naval man’s kiss-swollen lips.
He had enjoyed ripping off the Commodore’s clothes and greedily drunk the sight of the pale skin.
He had cried out as the Commodore had speared him, almost ripping him up from the inside.
He had yelped when the Commodore’s considerable manhood had pressed against his prostate, harder, faster, again and again.
***
Jack glanced down his body and rolled his eyes. Damn the naval breeches. Damn the bloody Commodore.
Quietly, he left his cabin. It was about time that he finally did something about his fantasies.
Author: txorakeriak
Pairing: Sparrington
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Blahblah, Mouse. Take what you can, give nothing back.
Summary: “Those naval breeches always make me come in my pants.”
Length: 156 words
Beta courtesy: darling aradiria *glomps*
A/N: written for supes_ as a response to my icon drabble meme
*****
Jack had seen the Commodore bending over his desk, sweat dripping from his face, his soaked shirt clinging to the man’s muscular upper body.
He had caressed, gripped and kneaded the Commodore’s firm buttocks through the cloth of his breeches.
He had felt the Commodore’s erection press against the restrictive breeches, stroked it through the cloth, savouring the gasps and moans of pleasure that escaped the Naval man’s kiss-swollen lips.
He had enjoyed ripping off the Commodore’s clothes and greedily drunk the sight of the pale skin.
He had cried out as the Commodore had speared him, almost ripping him up from the inside.
He had yelped when the Commodore’s considerable manhood had pressed against his prostate, harder, faster, again and again.
***
Jack glanced down his body and rolled his eyes. Damn the naval breeches. Damn the bloody Commodore.
Quietly, he left his cabin. It was about time that he finally did something about his fantasies.