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Days like these, there’s not much for Shanks to see.
For an hour, now, she’s been rotating between gawking at the wide berth of calm sea that yawns on for miles around them, the familiar faces of her crewmates as they lounge about the deck, and the sight of Benn’s nipples poking through her shirt. It’s agony. Unadulterated, mind-numbing monotony peppered with sexual frustration, having been explicitly told by Benn to ‘keep that damn hand away’ from her tits until tonight.
The ship has been drifting in the doldrums for the past day and a half. It’s a lazy reprieve for most of the crew, providing them with a bit of much-needed downtime before the winds kick up again and they embark on their next venture. Whatever particular strip of the sea they’re drifting on must be near a summer island, Shanks thinks, because the temperature has been uncharacteristically hot, muggy, and miserable.
It hadn’t taken long for the crew to start stripping off their sweat-drenched shirts as soon as it had become clear that they’d be stuck in this weather longer than expected. It’s nothing everyone hasn’t seen before; most pay each other no mind, but Shanks – bored, keyed-up, and in desperate need of a distraction from the stifling heat – can’t keep her eyes off Benn.
Contrary to the rest of the crew, her first mate hasn’t undressed much. That damn black shirt she always wears is tight at the best of times, constantly hugging her broad chest and stretched taut over her biceps, but, now, it’s almost unbearable to look at.
Shanks feels like a horny teenager again as she ogles the way Benn’s sweat-soaked shirt clings to her breasts and abs, the outline of each barbell-pierced nipple faintly visible through the fabric. It’s somehow more obscene than actually seeing Benn’s bare breasts when they fuck. A small mercy, Shanks thinks, that her first mate’s shirt is dark enough to not show much more.
By the time night falls, she’s about ready to shove Benn into the nearest storeroom and rip her damn shirt off. They barely manage to slip into the captain’s quarters before Shanks is on her, pressing Benn bodily up against the door.
“You’re eager tonight, cap’n,” Benn comments, arms raising to help Shanks peel the shirt off her.
The withering look Shanks shoots her softens as she watches Benn’s breasts bounce free from their confine. “You’ve been teasing me all day.”
“Have I?” Benn’s tone is cheekily nonchalant, like she hadn’t rolled the hem of her shirt up halfway through the day, tucking it under her still-covered tits while baring her taut, tantalizing stomach to Shanks from across the deck.
“You could’ve at least let me have a taste.”
“Would’ve spoiled your appetite,” Benn counters.
“I’m always hungry for you, Beck,” Shanks replies, a grin on her lips. She knows it sounds painfully cheesy; every embarrassing quip is worth the little twinge of internal cringe, though, for the reward of hearing Benn’s amused bark of laughter.
They stumble into bed together, enveloped in an air of eager desire. The flickering light of the sconced lamps in Shanks’s room bathes them in a warm glow, bodies sweatily grinding against each other as, piece by piece, the few remaining clothes they wear are discarded and strewn carelessly about the room.
Now that she’s finally able to, Shanks indulges herself in Benn’s breasts, taking as much of one as she can fit in her palm and giving a rough squeeze. She presses sloppy kisses to the swell of the other, latching onto the nipple and flicking the barbell with her tongue while she tweaks the bud between her fingertips. Above her, Benn groans, threading her hands through Shanks’s hair and all but burying her captain’s face in her tits and holding her there while Shanks teases her nipples until they’re flushed, polished silver piercings slick with spit.
She gasps when she feels two of Benn’s fingers slide inside her cunt, the heel of the older woman’s palm grinding against her clit. “Beck,” she moans, voice muffled against flesh. Benn slowly pumps her fingers in and out as she trails kisses down her body, repaying the treatment her captain had given to her tits twofold; by the time she’s moved on, Shanks’s breasts ache, her nipples raw and swollen from her first mate’s attention.
And then, Benn’s mouth is on her, nose buried in a thick thatch of red hair as her tongue spreads Shanks wide, working the wet heat of her cunt with practiced ease. There’s a certain intensity that glints in Benn’s gaze whenever she eats Shanks out like this, dark eyes fixed on her captain’s face like she doesn’t want to miss a single blissed-out expression or pleasure-worried lip as she sucks Shanks’s clit, slips two fingers inside her captain’s pussy alongside her tongue.
“Fuck, feels so good,” Shanks exhales, words smothered against her arm. She feels her first mate smile against her cunt, tongue teasing Shanks, lapping at her clit to the point of near-overstimulation. A third finger joins the others inside her. Benn hums, crooks all three in a way that has Shanks canting her hips off the mattress, thighs clamping tight around Benn’s head.
God, fuck. Shanks clenches around Benn’s knuckles. She’s so close, now, her thoughts reduced to nothing but monosyllabic curses and her first mate’s name. Shanks cards her hand through Benn’s hair and pulls the older woman’s face tight against her needy cunt, hips bucking, riding her tongue and fingers.
“Ah—Beck—Benn,” Shanks cries out, names stuttering from her lips as her cunt clenches. Benn wraps an arm around one thigh and holds her rabbiting hips steady as she licks her through her orgasm, only pulling away when Shanks has flopped bonelessly back on the bed.
A beat passes. Shanks lies there with flushed cheeks and a heaving chest, catching her breath. Benn stands and pops her aching jaw, moves to swipe a cigarette from her discarded pants, and flicks a flame to the tip.
“You good?” she asks. Takes a drag and leans her leg against the mattress, just enough to steady her as she reaches her other hand down to card the sweaty hair back from Shanks’s face, tucking a stray strand behind one ear.
Shanks nods, still somewhat blissed-out, keening into Benn’s touch like a particularly contented cat. “Mmhm,” she hums, the sound bordering on a moan when Benn’s nails scratch her scalp. “Real good.”
As the post-orgasm clarity slowly creeps up on her, Shanks regards Benn with a curious look. The older woman is still half-dressed, underwear slung low on her hips, giving Shanks an enticing view of the trim V-line dipping beneath the waistband of Benn’s briefs.
“Looks like you aren’t, though.” Shanks sits up on her knees, nods toward the gray fabric between Benn’s legs that’s completely soaked through. “Need a hand?” she asks, teasingly rubbing two fingers over the seam of her first mate’s cunt through her wet briefs.
Shanks savors the way Benn stiffens when her knuckles brush against her clit. “I’m fine,” Benn grits out, very obviously not fine.
“C’mon, Beck,” she says, syllables drawn out in a sing-song lilt. “Let me take care of you.” Shanks presses open-mouthed kisses to her first mate’s abdomen, pausing to nip at the flesh on the crest of her hip as she trails downward and noses at Benn through the damp fabric of her briefs. She hooks a thumb in the waistband, slowly starts to tug them down.
Benn curtails Shanks’s advance, prying her fingers away. She takes one final drag of her half-smoked cigarette, exhales, and sticks the end between Shanks’s lips before she manages to get her tongue on Benn’s cunt, giving her captain something to keep her damn mouth momentarily occupied. The filter isn’t damp enough to stifle the smoke, but Shanks can vaguely taste her own slick on the butt of the cigarette where Benn’s lips had been.
“Later,” Benn says, stepping back and leaving Shanks sprawled upon the mattress. “Got a surprise for you, first.”
“Surprise?” That piques Shanks’s curiosity. She’s usually the one surprising Benn, teasingly testing the limits of her first mate’s patience in bed until Benn’s ripe to ravage her, forgoing her careful composure in favor of fucking Shanks until she’s sore and soaking.
Benn hums. “Mm. Picked it up last time we docked.”
The older woman unlatches the chest that’s shoved up against the wall opposite the bed, bending down and nimbly stripping off her briefs with one hand while the other rummages through their modest collection of toys and other miscellanea. Shanks hears a familiar metallic clinking, the rasp of leather on skin. She’s already enjoying the direction this surprise seems to be going.
She takes one last drag from the cigarette before stubbing it out in the nearby nightstand ashtray. Watching Benn with a hungry, half-lidded gaze, she slips her hand down her body, idly toying with her clit. God, Shanks will never get sick of seeing Benn in a harness, the straps framing her toned ass so temptingly; she rarely gets enough time to appreciate the sight from this angle, usually too busy getting acquainted with her first mate’s front.
Shanks idly fingers herself, attempting to take the edge off the anticipation simmering within her while Benn tightens the buckles snug around her hips and backside. Her first mate gives one final tug, turns around, and –
That’s… a big surprise hanging heavy in Benn’s harness, Shanks thinks, longer and thicker than the respectably large strap they normally favor.
Benn – intimately familiar with even the most minute changes in Shanks’s disposition and body language after well over a decade of sailing together – lets out an amused chuff at her captain’s unspoken reaction.
“If you don’t think it’ll fit,” Benn drawls, palming the shaft and giving it a slow stroke, “I can use our regular one. Might’a overestimated things a bit when I bought it.”
It’s bait. Shanks knows it’s bait, knows that Benn is teasing her because she knows her captain will rise to taunts in the bedroom despite rarely entertaining provocation outside of these four walls. She’s letting Shanks sate her rarely indulged desire to prove herself, to please her partner.
Fixing Benn with a stubborn look, Shanks lets her legs fall open. “I’ll make it fit,” she says, carding her fingers through the dark hair between her thighs and slowly spreading herself wide, like she’s presenting her cunt for Benn to use. (In the recesses of her mind, she’s vaguely aware that something could go awry with this plan, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’s made the walk-slash-limp of shame to Hongo’s office for an awkward post-sex check-up.)
The edges of Benn’s lips hitch up in a grin at her captain’s response. Beneath her body, the mattress dips. She straddles Shanks, catches her wrist and pulls it away from her pussy, lacing their fingers together as she pins her captain’s hand above her head. Benn’s other hand dips between her thighs, fingers slipping into Shanks’s soaking cunt. Slowly, deftly, Benn slicks up her strap with the fluid, adding lube from their half-empty bedside bottle for good measure.
Benn’s dark gaze glints in the low-light, fixed on Shanks. She leans down and indulges her captain with the briefest brush of lips.
“You sure?” she asks. Rubs her length teasingly over the flushed seam of Shanks’s pussy, just barely pushing in. Benn’s toying with her, now. Waiting for her captain’s counter to the subtle challenge she’s issued.
In lieu of a response, Shanks hooks her legs around the older woman’s ass and grinds her hips down, fucking herself onto the fat head of Benn’s cock.
“Captain…” Benn murmurs, voice trailing into a low exhale. Raw desire flickers across her face. A large, calloused hand skates up her side to fondle one of Shanks’s perfectly palm-sized breasts, pinching her nipple between thumb and forefinger and tugging just enough to make Shanks squirm from the pain-pleasure of the sensation.
Shanks flashes Benn a lazy grin. Leans up and gives her a quick kiss, cheekily nipping at her lower lip. “You know I can take it.” She rocks her hips, goads Benn on. “Give me your cock already, Beck.”
Benn snorts. “You can take it?” she echoes. Shanks can almost taste the mixture of smoke and pussy on Benn’s breath when she speaks, their faces so close. It lulls her into a heady daze.
Then, in the span of a brief, drawn-in breath, Benn leans back – “Here you go, then, cap’n” – and snaps her hips forward, fucking hard into Shanks with a single stroke.
She’s immediately wrested from her stupor. The gasp that’s punched out of her lungs quickly devolves into a low moan of pleasure when she feels Benn bottom out inside of her, cock buried to the hilt.
God, Shanks thinks, she feels so full.
Benn’s thrusts are tortuously slow, fucking into Shanks and pulling back before she has a chance to feel the perfect satisfaction of that first stroke again. Greedy for more, she wraps her legs around Benn’s own and manhandles her surprised first mate down to the mattress, flipping their positions.
Her fingers slide down Benn’s chest, flicking the barbell that pierces her nipple. Shanks steadies herself with a palm over one of Benn’s breasts as she straddles her first mate’s thighs and settles back down on Benn’s cock.
“You feel so good, Beck,” Shanks purrs. She sets a steady pace, sinking Benn deeper inside with each roll of her hips.
Benn snaps her hips up on the next thrust and meets Shanks halfway. Hard, desperate – the way she knows her captain likes it. Shanks’s world narrows to just the two of them; the hoarse moans and breathy gasps, the slick sounds of her soaking cunt clenched around Benn’s cock, the litany of words that fall from her lips like a prayer. Yes, yes, just like that, fuck, harder, please!
Benn digs her thumbs into Shanks’s waist, skates the pads of her fingers down the sharp lines of her hips. Shanks shudders on top of her and sucks her lower lip between her teeth as Benn trails one hand up her chest to roughly squeeze her breast, pinching and pawing at her sore nipple in tandem with the slow pound of her strap into the other woman’s cunt.
“That’s it, cap’n,” Benn murmurs. “That’s my good girl, takin’ my cock so well. Wish you could see yourself right now.”
Shanks rakes her eyes over Benn’s face, gaze hazy. The older woman doesn’t meet her look, seemingly too enraptured by the way Shanks’s tits bounce as she rides her cock. “We should invest in a – ah – in a mirror.”
Benn groans. Ruts her hips up to meet Shanks on the younger woman’s downward arc, sheathing herself inside with such abrupt force Shanks grabs the headboard to steady herself.
A grin dances on Shanks’s lips. So Benn likes that idea, huh? “One of those big ones, y’know,” she continues, words spoken in breathy bouts. “Full-length, floor-to-ceiling. I’d mount it on – fuck, Beck – on the wall. Spread you open, take you apart. Make you watch yourself while I fuck y–”
Her words devolve into a less-than-dignified yelp when a hand slaps her ass with a loud, stinging crack. Benn gathers Shanks into her arms, surges up onto her knees and slots their bodies together; she takes control of the rhythm, her fingers digging into Shanks’s hips with a bruising grip as she pulls her captain down onto her cock, uses her like a hole to fuck. Shit, Benn really likes that idea.
Shanks feels impossibly more turned on by her first mate’s possessive, unrestrained strength, by the way Benn holds her like she’s weightless and fucks her hard and fast and deep. It’s a tangible testament to the years Benn has spent honing her body to peak physicality, steady and sword-sharp, all for her crew. For her captain. For her lover.
Pleasure snakes through Shanks, gut-deep. She groans, buries her face in Benn’s shoulder and sags against her, drawing her hand away from the headboard before she comes so hard she loses control of her strength and cracks it. Again.
Shanks presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to Benn’s neck. Nips at her flesh until she can hear the tell-tale sharp inhale she’s looking for, wanting to ensure she leaves her mark. For a breathy moment, she indulges the small selfish streak Benn brings out in her. She’s never been a truly possessive person, but she’s grown to enjoy these little gestures – the casual, physical proof of partnership lingering on their skin, bruises and bitemarks renewed like marriage vows before they can truly fade.
A moan escapes her lips, stifled by flesh, as Benn slows her thrusting and spreads her upon the mattress. “Fuck, you’re dripping,” the older woman groans. She regards Shanks with a reverential gaze; a hand splays on her captain’s slick-soaked inner thigh, thumbs skating over the lips of her pussy where they’re stretched wide around the fat base of her strap.
“Beck,” Shanks whines, swivelling her hips. Their fingers brush when Shanks slides a hand down her body, roughly rubbing her clit as she feels that familiar heat begin to coil in her belly. “Don’t stop, ‘m so close.”
Benn snorts at her griping but obliges. She begins to move again, hooking one of Shanks’s legs over her shoulder and fucking her with vigor. “So impatient. Can’t even give me a minute to enjoy how wet this is getting you.” She leans closer, lips near the shell of Shanks’s ear. “You gonna come just from this? What would the world think if they knew the infamous Shanks is just a hungry little cockslut, huh?”
Her final few staccato syllables are accompanied by pointed thrusts; it’s almost obscene, Shanks thinks, how loud the sound of Benn pounding away at her sloppy cunt is. Benn’s words are enough to bring Shanks over the edge, wringing her orgasm from her. She clenches around her first mate’s cock, a full-body shudder racking her frame as she collapses, boneless, against the bed.
A peaceful silence blankets them. Benn’s steady, heavy breaths lull Shanks, accompanied by gentle kisses pressed to the curve of her jaw. Her entire body is hypersensitive as she comes down from the familiar high of a good fucking; her nipples feel a step beyond simply sore, and the dildo still buried inside of her brushes her aching clit, making Shanks wince.
She runs her hand over the harness as Benn pulls out. Shanks can see the older woman is still painfully wet and horny, despite her earlier insistence that she was ‘fine.’
“You had your fun,” Shanks says breezily, thumbing a strap through its buckle. “I think it’s my turn to try out our new toy.”