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+---- Thread: i look fly, i look good (/showthread.php?tid=12510)
RE: i look fly, i look good - The Ark - 02-15-2026
The Ark smirks faintly at his instruction, breath still uneven but eyes bright. [say]"You were quiet,"[/say] she points out, the words brushing his mouth just before he steals it again. When his shirt disappears and his bare skin meets hers, the contact is immediate and startling in its intensity. It is no longer just heat; it is charge. Every place they touch seems to spark, sensation darting and flaring across her nerves in bright lines that leave her breath hitching.
As he guides her properly onto the bed and her head settles against the pillows, the world narrows again to the space between their bodies. Her hands drift downward without hesitation, drawn by curiosity and by the obvious tension she can feel in him. Her fingers fumble briefly around the line of his belt, and when her hand closes around his cock, she inhales sharply at the firmness, the living heat there. She gives an instinctive squeeze, not refined but deliberate, fascinated by the way he reacts beneath her touch.
When Jack's hand moves between her thighs again, she shivers hard, her hips lifting instinctively into the contact. The sensation is immediate and electric, her body flinching into him and then pressing forward in the same breath. As his finger slips inside of her, her grip tightens both around him and where it's tangled in his hair before breathing his name like it is both plea and declaration, eyes dark and intent on his. [say]"I want,"[/say] she says again, emphatic and certain, the heat in her voice matched by the way her body moves against him, no hesitation left in her at all. [say]"Jack—"[/say]
RE: i look fly, i look good - Jack - 02-15-2026
Swamped by thought and feeling, as her hand closes around his cock it succeeds in catching Jack by surprise, a hot breath huffing out of him against the side of her neck, his hips rocking into the contact instinctively. It's almost enough to still the work of his own hand, the Captain biting down on a moan that ends up tapering off into a quiet laugh. [say]"My mouth was busy,"[/say] he points out, before his fingers beckon her once again and he feels her grip tighten, filling his body with fire.
This time he isn't able to stifle the mix of pleasure and impatience that rumbles from his throat, Jack drawing his hand away at last to abruptly sit back from her - not for long though, of that he'll make sure. There's colour in his cheeks now, the rise and fall of his chest a little faster, and as he frees himself properly from the confines of his pants there's absolutely no denying the effect she's had on him, probably from the moment he laid eyes on her if he has to put a timestamp on it.
[say]"If it hurts,"[/say] he says, which he can't deny, it likely will, [say]"it won't be for long."[/say] That he can promise, the Captain regarding her with eyes made dark with want before he descends upon her again, blanketing her with his body. His kisses are softer now against her lips, chasing every sensation, whilst his hands encourage her legs to hook around his waist until the head of his cock presses insistently against her, begging to have and to take.
Still Jack moves slow, attuned to her body as if aware that he's holding something delicate, and though a breath shivers out of him as he enters her, inch by inch, he's as steady here as he would be sailing them into a maelstrom.
RE: i look fly, i look good - The Ark - 02-15-2026
When Jack pulls back from her, the absence of his weight is immediate and acute. Her chest rises and falls quickly, the whole of her straining toward him even as she lies there like dark, waiting water. Her eyes move over him without shame or restraint, drinking in the lines of his body, the tension in him that mirrors her own.
She blinks at the mention of pain, but she believes him when he says it will be pass. There is no hesitation in her when she nods, knowing instinctively that even if it did linger, it would be worth it. The heat he has drawn out of her has climbed too high to retreat now; stopping would feel like being stranded in a windless sea after sails have already filled, like sinking.
When he settles over her again, when his body blankets hers and their skin presses fully together, something in her quiets and surges at the same time. It feels fundamentally right, as if this alignment has always existed beneath the surface waiting to be discovered. One hand lifts to his cheek, fingers soft there, and she parts her lips in invitation, her tongue brushing his in a slow echo of his earlier beckoning finger.
Her lips still against his as unfamiliar resistance flares bright through her mind. The sensation is sharp and overwhelming for a heartbeat, and she inhales sharply against his mouth. It feels like forcing her hull through a crust of ice, that initial fracture and strain, of wood meeting something unyielding. A small, involuntary wimper escapes her, not one of fear but intensity, her nails biting into his shoulder as her other hand tightens there. Rather than waiting for him, her hips lift, pushing forward, urging them through together. And then, like breaking through the ice on the Eurybia, the resistance gives and as the tension releases, the sensation that follows is staggering; heat and fullness and connection all at once, a sudden, complete joining that floods her with sensation so bright it almost steals her voice. She moans against his mouth, the sound raw and ringing, her body arching into him as the overwhelming surge washes through her.
Her thoughts fracture under it, scattering into bright shards of feeling, the ocean of her mind rolling vast and limitless again as the sheer magnitude of it threatens to crest once more. She clings to him, breathless and wide-eyed, as the force of it nearly pulls another orgasm from her on the spot, stunned by how completely he fills her and how fiercely her body answers in return.
RE: i look fly, i look good - Jack - 02-15-2026
It's maddening, the tight pressure of her all around him, and Jack is forced back from her soft kisses to breathe through it, his forehead pressed against her own. His eyes have flickered shut, overwhelmed by the scattering of her thoughts, the way pain gives way to the sort of pleasure that feels raw and right and overwhelming, and gods it would be embarrassing to let it carry him into ecstasy this soon, but it's a close fucking thing.
Instead, as if to clutch back what's left of his senses, he meets her lips again in a kiss aimed to ground rather than distract. One hand slips beneath the smooth arch of her back, the other braced over her head, and though it feels like sailing through waves that might swallow them whole, his hips rock forward into her. Gentle in a way that's anathema to all that the Captain is, he knows already that it won't be like this for long.
The Ark will be insatiable, of that he's fairly certain, and this is merely the first crest of pleasure into something dark and hungry that they can repeat as often as she likes. For now though, Jack holds as steady as he can despite the choppiness of the waves around the ship returning. This time, though, he's the one responsible for it, every thrust sending eddies of water out into the Arclight to be swallowed by the deeper tide.
RE: i look fly, i look good - The Ark - 02-15-2026
As Jack leans down to kiss her, the Ark will rise to meet him without hesitation, lips finding his with a hungry insistence that refuses to be calmed or reasoned with. Her fingers are no longer claws digging into his back but grasping instead, holding him there as if the world beyond the cabin has ceased to exist. He'll feel the strength in her, the way the muscles along her spine flex and arch into his palm, her body meeting every measured roll of his hips with instinctive alignment. There is nothing passive in her response; she moves with him, against him, around him, the rhythm becoming shared rather than led.
Some distant, instinctive part of her knows what is coming, that when this swell crests she will not have control over the aftermath. So it is that although the galleon is anchored in the harbour, the force of her mind will ignore the pull of iron and rope, lifting her hull from the water as if caught in a sudden surge, her anchor swaying uselessly beneath as she rises into the air, the sea below churning in confused response. She does it without thinking, as naturally as adjusting sail to spare neighbouring vessels from a wake too violent to bear.
Inside the ship, though, there is no such restraint. As Jack moves within her, the pleasure builds far beyond what she thought possible, eclipsing even the wave he had drawn from her with his mouth. It is deeper now, fuller, a consuming rhythm that takes hold of her thoughts entirely. Doors along the corridor slam open and shut in erratic bursts. Drawers spill their contents. Glass rattles and thuds against wood. Murphy at the helm will find her utterly unresponsive to coaxing, the usual hum of her attention gone as she rocks in midair with the cadence of the Captain's hips.
Her moans are no longer startled but dark and urgent, the sound rising and falling in time with him. The ocean of her mind is no longer gilded copper but storm-lit and roaring, vast swells crashing into one another without horizon. Every thrust sends another wave surging through her, the sensation cresting higher and higher until language becomes impossible and only feeling remains.
RE: i look fly, i look good - Jack - 02-15-2026
Jack is beyond rational thoughts like what is happening beyond these cabin walls? and I say, has my ship started to sail into the sky by itself? such that when all this is over - and they won't have very long to wait, something Murphy will likely be relieved about - it will be as much of a surprise to the Captain as to anyone else that they're airborne. For now though, it's just the movement of their bodies and the swell of ecstasy that gathers within her and begs for release, a call that Jack is heedless to do anything but answer.
Swearing softly against the crook of her neck and clutching her closer, the storm of her mind is echoed in every buck and roll of their hips; he abandons care and sweetness for the raw pleasure of fucking, leaving reason behind like something to be picked up as an afterthought. [say]"Cum for me,"[/say] he hisses against the shell of her ear, trusting her to understand his meaning even if the language is new, and when she does, gods, he follows near immediately on the heels of it.
Pleasure whipcracks through him with force enough to steal his breath and his senses, Jack's fingers clutching at the pillow over her head as he rides it out with each slow, deep thrust. It hasn't been long for the Captain, not comparatively, but even so this feels like something over and above a good time between the sheets at a brothel. This is heightened in a way that feels intimate and new, that crosses boundaries from the simple and the physical, and he's left reeling in the wake of it and panting hard against her.
RE: i look fly, i look good - The Ark - 02-15-2026
As with most things he asks of her, she answers without hesitation, not out of obedience, but because the sound of his voice against her ear, rough and urgent, strikes through her like a spark to dry timber. The heat inside her, already stretched taut, flares blindingly bright. A startled cry tears from her throat as the pressure that has been building detonates all at once, rippling outward in violent, glorious waves. Every drawer, every loose latch, every unsecured object aboard her slams open or crashes shut in the same instant, the entire ship answering the force of her release.
She rises against him with it, back arching, hands gripping him with desperate strength as if she might otherwise be swept away entirely. His name breaks from her in a near scream against the hollow of his neck, the sound raw and unguarded. The sensation is bigger than before—deeper, more consuming—a rolling surge that seems to pull the horizon itself inward until there is nothing but the bright, overwhelming force of it crashing through her.
And then, just as suddenly, everything stills. The ship hangs suspended, silent, the sea below smooths into glass. Within her, the storm recedes slowly, lingering swells easing into long, gentle undulations. The wind has fallen away and the sun looms vast and endless over calm water. She drifts there in the aftermath, breath shuddering out of her in slow, satisfied exhales, her body slack beneath his but her arms still wrapped around him, holding him close. The ocean of her mind remains choppy at the edges, faint ripples left from the maelstrom he has sailed her through, but at its center, there is only warmth and fullness and a deep, steady contentment. Entirely satisfied. Entirely his in a way that requires no reassurances, no scrutiny, no doubt.
RE: i look fly, i look good - Jack - 02-15-2026
They lay together, fighting to catch their breath and with the ship hovering lazily over the Boondocks, and Jack only realises belatedly that, all around the bunk, a circle of thick frost reaches for them with jagged, icy fingertips. It's as though they are what has detonated and his magic has scored a ring around them to mark the radius; Jack gazes at it without truly seeing it, and as The Ark's arms close properly around him he succumbs to the quiet nothing that rides in the wake of his climax.
And when thought does filter back through a few long and blissful seconds later, it's little more than the lingering choppiness in the waves of her mind, contentment and satisfaction and the urge to be and do nothing more than this. Just this.
The smile on Jack's face is faint and breathless, the Captain loose limbed and unwilling to move for anything less than life or death urgency. He shifts enough to not quite trap her beneath him, but otherwise sinks against her entirely, his eyes feeling strangely heavy in a way that is a marked difference from the usual. There's no detached rolling away, no swift return of composure, no urgency to dress and leave and get on with his day.
Instead, his arms curling possessively around her, Jack exhales in a long, boneless sigh and lets his eyes shut. [say]"And now you know,"[/say] he mumbles, amusement lacing through the rough cadence of his voice, his smile something she'll be able to feel against her neck.
RE: i look fly, i look good - The Ark - 02-15-2026
As Jack shifts, she follows without thinking, rolling partly onto her side so they fit together more easily, though she remains thoroughly tangled with him. One leg stays hooked high around his waist and hip, keeping him close, while her arms wind comfortably around his shoulders and back. Her fingers drift lazily through his hair, combing and twisting without purpose, savouring the texture of it beneath her touch.
When his smile brushes her skin, she grins up at the ceiling, radiant and unguarded. Warmth spills through the waters of her mind in slow, luminous tides, no longer storm-tossed but glowing and expansive. The frost ring around them goes unnoticed; she feels only the steady press of him, the weight and heat of his body against hers.
[say]"For as cocky as you've made me,"[/say] she says lightly, a breath of laughter in her voice, [say]"not even I would claim to know much after just one time."[/say] Her tone is teasing, bright again in the aftermath, though softer at the edges. She curls closer, arms tightening just slightly around him, holding him close. [asy]"Much more practice is required."[/say]
For now, though, she is utterly sated in a way she does not yet have language for. The satisfaction settles deep and sure inside her, a fullness that feels less like conquest and more like completion. Gratitude hums quietly through her thoughts; not dramatic or loud, but steady and sincere. He has taken care of her, as he always has, whether with tools and timber or with patient hands and steady guidance. Her love for him glows vast and uncomplicated, something whole and resplendent that exists nowhere else in all of Caido in quite this form.
RE: i look fly, i look good - Jack - 02-15-2026
[say]"I didn't make you cocky,"[/say] Jack objects, his smile still audible but softer now, as if even holding the expression is tiring, [say]"you were like that when I found you. I just helped it along a bit."[/say] Still, her second point is definitely something worth considering, and as her arms tighten around him the Captain shifts with it, as comfortable in her embrace as in the rock and sway of the ship at the end of a rough day. Only this feels like the end of several dozen rough days in succession, and the fatigue hits him all at once as sudden as a rogue wave.
[say]"Frequent practice,"[/say] he adds, [say]"though you'll forgive a guy for needin' a minute after that."[/say] It won't be a minute, though Jack doesn't know it yet. He doesn't plan for it at least, intending to relax here for a few moments more before peeling himself away, but as that soft glow of her mind - uncomplicated, sincere, gorgeous in its resplendence - blankets him, the Captain can do little more than relax into it.
The Ark will likely be the first to notice when he stops responding, either verbally or by touch, his breathing slow and deep and steady against the warmth of her body. It might barely be afternoon and they might still be hovering in midair, but Jack has found something more precious by far in the quiet confines of his cabin.
After what feels like an age, Jack has finally found sleep.
~FIN