The Pirate and the Princess


This week, in Careers and Education, Justin Juul seeks expert help to write erotic prose. Here's his first attempt at the easy to publish, but not so easy to write, art form. And yes, he found a pseudonym.


The pirate costume I ordered from eBay was sitting in a box by my door when I got home last night. I took it upstairs, set it on the kitchen table, and poured myself a glass of rum. Rum…that’s what pirates drink isn’t it? “What else do they do?” I wondered. If I wanted Chloe to swab my deck for more than five minutes I knew had to be in full swashbuckler mode by the time she arrived. I could put it off no longer. It was time to become a pirate.

I popped in a bootleg copy of Dead Man’s Chest for background noise and prepared myself for a feverish Wikipedia session. Pirate lingo was all I needed, really. I had the accent down pretty good, but I couldn’t just keep saying “arrr,” and I knew words like “landlubber” and “scallywag” would only make us laugh. I cut the box open with a rusty knife as my computer booted, and then, with the blade clenched in my teeth, plunged into the Styrofoam popcorn to search for some treasure. I felt my cock stiffen as I ran my fingers over the beard, eye-patch, scarf, sword, and sexy felt hat. Arrr matey. I was gonna get some princess booty tonight.

I was clicking through sites and writing down sexy nautical terms when suddenly the door flew open. Chloe stormed into the kitchen, threw her purse on the table, and started talking quickly about how those assholes at work had pissed her off for the last time. She had been fired, and she was so upset that it took her a full two minutes to notice that something was a bit off. Styrofoam peanuts were strewn from one end of the living room to the next and there I sat in nothing but a silk scarf, a beard, and a pirate hat looking like a goddamn fool. On the computer monitor were two men in similar attire fucking some chick on a sandy beach. The woman was on her hands and knees, moaning, begging for more.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Chloe said. The television became increasingly audible during the uncomfortable silence that followed. There was an explosion and a scream and then Johnny Depp said, “My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature informs me that you are troubled.” We both looked at the TV and then back at each other and laughed. “Uh…I thought maybe we could try the pirate thing tonight” was all I could think to say. “That sucks you lost your job, though.”

“Fuck it, I didn’t like it there anyway,” said Chloe. She took a swig of her Corona Light and then asked, “Are you talking about that book my mom got me at the grocery store when I was 13?”

“Well, yeah,” I said. “You said it was about a pirate and a princess and that it was the first time you, like, ever felt horny, or whatever.”

I was embarrassed and flustered. I knew she'd laugh when she saw me in my pirate gear, but I didn't think she'd be angry. “Are you mad or something?” I said. “No, I just…I don't know. I just got fired and I wanted to come home and talk, but you're drunk and the house is trashed. And you're wearing a fucking fake beard! I'm not mad. I just need to lie down for a minute. I'm sorry.”

Chloe grabbed her ice pack from the freezer and disappeared into the room. I took off my wig, put the sword and the other items back into the box, and then started picking up the Styrofoam peanuts in shame. When it was all clean I sat and watched the trailer for Pirates, the most expensive porno ever made. Jenaviv Jolie and Carmen Luvana were playing the writhing bread to some random pirate’s sex sandwich, which is to say that there was a hot threesome taking place with a trio of airbrushed porn stars in pirate garb.

As I watched, I remembered fragments of pirate conversations I had had with Chloe over the years. “There’s something about the situation that makes me wet,” she had said during breakfast one morning. Another time she mentioned that what got her so excited about the pirate scenario wasn’t so much the pirate with his accent and costume and all, but more the sense of being taken a princess must enjoy during sexual captivity. Not like a rape thing, just your standard submissive fantasy. I decided then and there that I would not let some stupid job ruin this for me…or for her, rather.

I watched the trailer in its entirety, strapped on the eye patch, grabbed a few silk scarves, and headed into the bedroom to get my princess. I was shocked when I opened the door to find Chloe on her hands and knees in new a new pair of see-through pink panties and a matching lace bra. I stood there for a moment admiring her ass and perky tits and then fell on her like a bull.

Chloe spread her legs, looked over her shoulder, and said, “I’m sorry I was bad. I really have always wanted to get taken by a pirate.” I knew she was trying to play along, but if I heard the word “pirate” one more time I was going to burst into laughter so I took the longest scarf and tied it around her mouth and then used the other two to fasten her hands to the bedposts. “Are you ok?” I asked. She nodded.

I lifted Chloe’s ass as far as I could and then ripped her panties off. I had never done that before, the panty-ripping thing, and although it didn’t make me feel like a pirate, it did make me extremely horny. I wasted no time after that, pushing into her hard and fast. I pulled her hair hard as I fucked her in silence. Her pussy was so wet I could hardly stand it.

I quickly undid the scarves as soon as I was finished. “Are you ok?” I asked. “Sorry it was so quick. I guess being a pirate was a little more than I was ready for. Can I go down on you?” Chloe didn’t respond right away. She just sort of lay in my arms, breathing deeply. I was worried I had freaked her out or something. I mean she seemed to enjoy it, but I kind of got lost there for a minute, and… “That was great baby,” she said, “You’re the hottest pirate in the whole world. And you don’t have to go down on me. I already came.” (J.F. Jewel)