Monday, March 07, 2005
A pirate Tale - 49
The sea was dark as La Herida que Filtra de la Cabeza and its escorts plowed steadily eastward toward the isolated island of Diego Garcia. The strains of flamenco guitar drifted over the water as Don Taco’s accompanist, Los Mariachi, strummed passionately.
The night was so dark that it would have taken keen eyes to notice the longboat that trailed the ship, or the 200 yards of towline connecting it to the galleon. And it would require very keen eyesight indeed to notice that the longboat, though it followed obediently along in the wake of the ship, was bouncing on the water in its own rhythm that seemed to have more to do with the distant music than any action of the waves.
It is at this moment that readers of – shall we say, delicate sensibility? – might want to scroll down to lower in of this installment, where there’s a funny bit with Cementhands McCormack and a bucket of lard. It gets a little adult right here.
On the longboat, Mad Sally straddled the man known as “Entrerroscas De cuero’ or, in English, ‘Leather Nipples,’ although his name, he had told her, was actually Ernesto. Their clothing disheveled, they moved together , and the sounds that came from her were almost animal, a guttural sound of release coming from deep within her. Her hips drove down on to him, into him, faster, faster. As the music reached a crescendo, her motions suddenly froze as her body shuddered with the sensations. Ernesto’s back arched as he shared the climax, both riding the feeling until the collapsed together in the bottom of the boat.
“Oh God I needed that,” Sally said presently.
“Sally, mi amor!” Ernesto said. “I have not been a stranger to women, but that was incredible. I shall remember that for a long, long time.”
“You sound like we’re finished,” Sally said.
“But Sally, you have used me up. I am spent,” he said ruefully.
“Oh, you’re young and strong,” Sally said with a wicked gleam in her eye. “I think I may be able to get your attention again.”
She shifted positions and went to work. “This is a little trick I call ‘waxing the spar,’ “ she said with an impish look. The shift in his eyes from focused to far away told her he thought it was a good trick. “If you like that,” she whispered in his ear, “wait’ll I show you ‘pump the monkey.’”
------------------------
In her cabin, Lady Fanny listened tiredly as Don Taco explained, yet again, how the plan would unfold. The explanation would have been gratuitous even if he hadn’t explained it twice already over dinner and the two bottles of very fine wine they had consumed. It was, after all, Fanny’s plan in the first place. But Don Taco was a man who liked to explain things, and suggest there were nuances in his explanation that were missing from previous explanations, even though he used precisely the same words.
Having already rid herself of both Slappista and Bastiaan, Fanny couldn’t afford to lose this Spanish grandee just yet, so she masked her irritation at Taco’s postprandial prattle by raising her wine glass for a refill, then slapping the girl who brought it for not moving quickly enough. That usually cheered her up, but tonight even that didn’t help. She got up and began pacing while Don Taco went on.
“The true genius of the plan is in splitting our forces,” he said. “Genius! We approach Diego Garcia from the north while the Olor Tremendo de Conchita approaches from the south. She is of course our fastest ship. When Sabado Gigante sees Conchita approaching with the Jolly Roger flying, any naval vessels that might be protecting her will give chase to the south, while Sabado Gigante veers north – directly into our arms, out of sight of all watching eyes. No one will ever know what happened to her. You see the cunning of the plan?”
"Yes, yes, I see it, of course I see it” Fanny snapped. “But why won’t Conchita regroup with us? Since she first came into sight after her battle with Nigel and ran up the 'All’s Well’ signal, he’s sailed away and it’s all we can do to keep him from disappearing over the horizon.”
“It is annoying, yes,” Taco said pensively. “I have been flying the signals for a conference. He should be here. But his ship dances just out of our reach. Her captain, Guillermo Galivan, is a proud man. Still he’s obviously headed in the right direction and he knows the plan as well as I do.” Fanny sighed. “So I suppose it does little harm if we let him have his head. Perhaps after we have no further use for him, we will HAVE his head, no?”
Fanny smiled at this. Finally, something that could cheer her up.
------------------------------------
Their positions had shifted and now Ernesto was above Sally.
“Like that,” she thought. “Yes, exactly like that.” She shifted her hips slightly to increase the sensation. The tempo quickened. In her mind, it was another man and another time, And then Sally was passed the point where she thought at all and was just riding a wave of feeling, enjoying the spasms that wracked her body.
“Oh, Sally, Te quiero!” he murmured.
“Don’t stop to talk!” she almost shrieked. “Just keep doing that!”
------------------------------
Sawbones Burgess was taking his regular evening walk around the deck of the Festering Boil when he heard a wheezing cough. Up ahead he saw Cementhands McCormack bending over, coughing, then leaning back against the bulkhead as if he were about to fall over.
“Cementhands? Are you alright?”
“Oh, I’m okay doc,” the affable giant said. “Just got a touch of the flu.”
“That’s not good. We’ll likely be in action very soon, maybe as soon as tomorrow,” the doctor said. Burgess was a healer, a man who hated to see suffering. He hated his own suffering even more, and thus wanted the ship’s most fierce fighter ready for battle.
“You come on down to my medical area. I know just the thing,” he said. McCormack had been on the receiving end of Burgess’ treatment before and wasn’t eager to repeat the experience, but he really was feeling awful, so much so that he was too weak to resist the doctor’s prodding. Burgess led him below decks while he explained that, according to the age’s most advanced medical thinking, the flu was caused by worms which had to be physically removed from the body.
“The treatment isn’t going to be fun for either of us, but you’ll be a new man in the morning, when the Cap’n needs you.”
“The Cap’n, aye,” McCormack agreed. He couldn’t let down the captain.
Burgess turned to Spencer, the cabin boy, who was passing by. “Son, run up to the galley and find me a bucket of lard and two – no, four strong men to hold him down.”
With that, he pushed Cementhands into his office and closed the door.
-----------------------------------------
There were times, Sally reflected as drew drew in the line, bringing the longboat back to the ship, when making love involved a deep, almost spiritual connection, and she had experienced that in her life. There were other times, of course, when it was “just” sex, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t still be a worthwhile experience, and this had proven to be one of those. After the three months of tension punctuated by moments of terror, this had been just what the doctor ordered, assuming that the doctor was a woman of healthy appetites who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go get it. Her face felt funny, she thought. It was because she was smiling, the first time she'd done that in ages.
“Sally, why hurry?” Ernesto cooed. “Why don’t you come here and lay in my arms for a while.”
“They’re nice arms, but I’ve got to get back to the ship. I’m late already.”
“You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, Sally, so wild, so raw, so free,” he said. “Let’s cuddle.”
“Thanks Ernie, you were pretty great too, just what this girl needed. But we’ve really got to go.”
Ernesto looked crestfallen. “Have I not pleased you?”
“Oh God yes, couldn’t you tell?” Sally asked. “Look, you’re a swell guy and this was a lot of fun, but that’s what it was, fun. I like you a lot and who knows, maybe there’ll be a rematch. But I’ve gotta ask you something.”
“Anything, Sally my Love,” he said, capitalizing the L.
They were now back beside La Herida que Filtra de la Cabeza and Sally was clambering back up the side. She looked down to where the man known as Leather Nipples was securing the longboat. Giving her clothing a final adjustment, said, “Like I said, you’re a great guy, and I mean that. So, later, if I have to kill you, please don’t take it personally.”
The night was so dark that it would have taken keen eyes to notice the longboat that trailed the ship, or the 200 yards of towline connecting it to the galleon. And it would require very keen eyesight indeed to notice that the longboat, though it followed obediently along in the wake of the ship, was bouncing on the water in its own rhythm that seemed to have more to do with the distant music than any action of the waves.
It is at this moment that readers of – shall we say, delicate sensibility? – might want to scroll down to lower in of this installment, where there’s a funny bit with Cementhands McCormack and a bucket of lard. It gets a little adult right here.
On the longboat, Mad Sally straddled the man known as “Entrerroscas De cuero’ or, in English, ‘Leather Nipples,’ although his name, he had told her, was actually Ernesto. Their clothing disheveled, they moved together , and the sounds that came from her were almost animal, a guttural sound of release coming from deep within her. Her hips drove down on to him, into him, faster, faster. As the music reached a crescendo, her motions suddenly froze as her body shuddered with the sensations. Ernesto’s back arched as he shared the climax, both riding the feeling until the collapsed together in the bottom of the boat.
“Oh God I needed that,” Sally said presently.
“Sally, mi amor!” Ernesto said. “I have not been a stranger to women, but that was incredible. I shall remember that for a long, long time.”
“You sound like we’re finished,” Sally said.
“But Sally, you have used me up. I am spent,” he said ruefully.
“Oh, you’re young and strong,” Sally said with a wicked gleam in her eye. “I think I may be able to get your attention again.”
She shifted positions and went to work. “This is a little trick I call ‘waxing the spar,’ “ she said with an impish look. The shift in his eyes from focused to far away told her he thought it was a good trick. “If you like that,” she whispered in his ear, “wait’ll I show you ‘pump the monkey.’”
------------------------
In her cabin, Lady Fanny listened tiredly as Don Taco explained, yet again, how the plan would unfold. The explanation would have been gratuitous even if he hadn’t explained it twice already over dinner and the two bottles of very fine wine they had consumed. It was, after all, Fanny’s plan in the first place. But Don Taco was a man who liked to explain things, and suggest there were nuances in his explanation that were missing from previous explanations, even though he used precisely the same words.
Having already rid herself of both Slappista and Bastiaan, Fanny couldn’t afford to lose this Spanish grandee just yet, so she masked her irritation at Taco’s postprandial prattle by raising her wine glass for a refill, then slapping the girl who brought it for not moving quickly enough. That usually cheered her up, but tonight even that didn’t help. She got up and began pacing while Don Taco went on.
“The true genius of the plan is in splitting our forces,” he said. “Genius! We approach Diego Garcia from the north while the Olor Tremendo de Conchita approaches from the south. She is of course our fastest ship. When Sabado Gigante sees Conchita approaching with the Jolly Roger flying, any naval vessels that might be protecting her will give chase to the south, while Sabado Gigante veers north – directly into our arms, out of sight of all watching eyes. No one will ever know what happened to her. You see the cunning of the plan?”
"Yes, yes, I see it, of course I see it” Fanny snapped. “But why won’t Conchita regroup with us? Since she first came into sight after her battle with Nigel and ran up the 'All’s Well’ signal, he’s sailed away and it’s all we can do to keep him from disappearing over the horizon.”
“It is annoying, yes,” Taco said pensively. “I have been flying the signals for a conference. He should be here. But his ship dances just out of our reach. Her captain, Guillermo Galivan, is a proud man. Still he’s obviously headed in the right direction and he knows the plan as well as I do.” Fanny sighed. “So I suppose it does little harm if we let him have his head. Perhaps after we have no further use for him, we will HAVE his head, no?”
Fanny smiled at this. Finally, something that could cheer her up.
------------------------------------
Their positions had shifted and now Ernesto was above Sally.
“Like that,” she thought. “Yes, exactly like that.” She shifted her hips slightly to increase the sensation. The tempo quickened. In her mind, it was another man and another time, And then Sally was passed the point where she thought at all and was just riding a wave of feeling, enjoying the spasms that wracked her body.
“Oh, Sally, Te quiero!” he murmured.
“Don’t stop to talk!” she almost shrieked. “Just keep doing that!”
------------------------------
Sawbones Burgess was taking his regular evening walk around the deck of the Festering Boil when he heard a wheezing cough. Up ahead he saw Cementhands McCormack bending over, coughing, then leaning back against the bulkhead as if he were about to fall over.
“Cementhands? Are you alright?”
“Oh, I’m okay doc,” the affable giant said. “Just got a touch of the flu.”
“That’s not good. We’ll likely be in action very soon, maybe as soon as tomorrow,” the doctor said. Burgess was a healer, a man who hated to see suffering. He hated his own suffering even more, and thus wanted the ship’s most fierce fighter ready for battle.
“You come on down to my medical area. I know just the thing,” he said. McCormack had been on the receiving end of Burgess’ treatment before and wasn’t eager to repeat the experience, but he really was feeling awful, so much so that he was too weak to resist the doctor’s prodding. Burgess led him below decks while he explained that, according to the age’s most advanced medical thinking, the flu was caused by worms which had to be physically removed from the body.
“The treatment isn’t going to be fun for either of us, but you’ll be a new man in the morning, when the Cap’n needs you.”
“The Cap’n, aye,” McCormack agreed. He couldn’t let down the captain.
Burgess turned to Spencer, the cabin boy, who was passing by. “Son, run up to the galley and find me a bucket of lard and two – no, four strong men to hold him down.”
With that, he pushed Cementhands into his office and closed the door.
-----------------------------------------
There were times, Sally reflected as drew drew in the line, bringing the longboat back to the ship, when making love involved a deep, almost spiritual connection, and she had experienced that in her life. There were other times, of course, when it was “just” sex, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t still be a worthwhile experience, and this had proven to be one of those. After the three months of tension punctuated by moments of terror, this had been just what the doctor ordered, assuming that the doctor was a woman of healthy appetites who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go get it. Her face felt funny, she thought. It was because she was smiling, the first time she'd done that in ages.
“Sally, why hurry?” Ernesto cooed. “Why don’t you come here and lay in my arms for a while.”
“They’re nice arms, but I’ve got to get back to the ship. I’m late already.”
“You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, Sally, so wild, so raw, so free,” he said. “Let’s cuddle.”
“Thanks Ernie, you were pretty great too, just what this girl needed. But we’ve really got to go.”
Ernesto looked crestfallen. “Have I not pleased you?”
“Oh God yes, couldn’t you tell?” Sally asked. “Look, you’re a swell guy and this was a lot of fun, but that’s what it was, fun. I like you a lot and who knows, maybe there’ll be a rematch. But I’ve gotta ask you something.”
“Anything, Sally my Love,” he said, capitalizing the L.
They were now back beside La Herida que Filtra de la Cabeza and Sally was clambering back up the side. She looked down to where the man known as Leather Nipples was securing the longboat. Giving her clothing a final adjustment, said, “Like I said, you’re a great guy, and I mean that. So, later, if I have to kill you, please don’t take it personally.”
# posted by John "Ol' Chumbucket" Baur @ 7:01 AM 
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