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just lay back and enjoy Tonight's story on this episode
of While in Bed, a time traveling erotic adventure, Part one.
This episode does contain graphic descriptions of oral sex, mutual masturbation,
and sex on a beach. His world has cast him aside,
alone and lost on a solitary island, but even then,
he does not yet know just how lost and alone
he really is. When a freak storm offers him the
opportunity of salvation, a lone woman to offer him safe passage,
he has a brief moment of relief. But there's a complication.
But isn't there always Hi, It's Devlin, Welcome to another
episode of Wild in Bed, your destination for salacious stories,
sensual satisfaction, and finger licking good fantasies. You can know
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And when you're ready to surrender to pleasure, just go
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letting go of any tension, any stress. For the next
thirty minutes or so, it's just you and my voice.
This is your time, Your time to relax, your time
for seven virtuous satisfaction, Your time to discover your inner
passions as you listen to my voice and filled the
story moving through your body as you enjoy tonight's show.
The sky darkened as Captain William Blackheart stalked across the deck.
The ship pitched furiously with the threat of the impending storm.
The skies flashed with stabs of lightning, as if nature
herself could sense the trees in on Molly's revenge. The
face of his crew momentarily lit up and then sank
back into the darkness, the shadows that engulfed the ship
embracing them once again. So say you all, William crowd,
his words punctuated by a clap of thunder. I, the
first mate, Jackson, replied. Those that voted again against were
cast adrift. William glared into the darkness as he snarled,
my wife's treasure is safe and hidden. It was not
earned by any man on this ship. You have no
title to it, And despite the force of his passion,
he knew it was a lost cause. Greed had infected
the crew since the rumor started, and a pirate's ship
is a tinder box in such moments. Somewhere in the shadows,
there was a metallic ringing of a cutlass being drawn.
If he didn't voluntarily leave the ship alive, they would
ensure what his corpse did. So be it, he said,
walking to the port side of the ship. Somewhere in
the darkness below, a boat was still tethered to the ship.
He would climb down the rigging that haddorned the side
of the Molly's Revenge, climb into the boat, and face
his fate at the mercy of the sea and storm.
His hand gripped the sudden rope as he climbed over
the edge, turning, he cursed, this ship has infected with greed.
You will kill each other and feast on your seamate's
carcasses before you find another coin of gold. Without he
descended the rigging, clinging to the side of the ship
that had served him so loyally. As he reached the boat,
hearing it move on the vicious tide, he fancied. He
heard the ship's sigh as if she was losing a
longtime lover. Severing the rope, the storm veiled his boat.
He knew it was pointless trying to row in such
a tempest. He could only hope and pray to a
god he had denied so many years before for his salvation.
The sounds of the cheering crew diminished as a tide
carried that Molly's revenge. Before the storm the William Blackheart.
The spray whipped his face and stung his vision, the
sound of the thunder ensuring his repeated curses could only
be heard within his own mind. Catherine looked over the
horizon at the storm in the distance. Lightning stabbed randomly
at the scene. Dark clouds rolled over the sky. She
had only come out from Port Talbot for a relaxed
afternoon of sailing, some time to herself, and there was
definitely no storm forecast, but she knew better than to
debate the accuracy of weather forecasts at moments like this.
According to the charts, there was a small island within
a safe sailing distance. She would just have to haul
up there until the storm passed, and then she could
return home and have a nice hot shower. The rain
began lashing her yacht as she turned across the storm
front and daring the weather to race her to the island. Fortunately,
her time as captain of the college yachting team made
her a formidable opponent, as she managed to find an
inlet to anchor the yacht before the storm hit ground.
Deciding it was safer to weather the storm here within
her yacht, she went below deck and shut the hatch,
securing it. Huddled in her cab and she listened to
the howls of the storm raging outside. Reaching for a
bottle of whiskey, she poured herself a generous measure before
downing it in one. Deciding she might need a little
assistance to get any sleep on such a wild night,
she poured another, and then another, and then another. The
morning sun streamed viciously through the portholes, its offensive rays
burning through Catherine's eyelids, forcing her to waken. The sound
of Bird's song invaded her sanctuary, echoing inside her head
like a heavy metal band at the apex of their encore.
Every sensation extra regret at consuming so much whiskey so quickly,
Catherine staggered upright, sliding the hatch open. She winced at
the attack of sunlight. She focused to try and maintain
her balance. The caress of the cool morning breeze rushed
over her face, refreshing her better than any shower, but
she needed more. She was still too hungover to make
an attempt to sail back to Porttalbot, yet, looking over
the brilliant white sands of the beach around the she
climbed down from her boat. Her stomach growned angrily, reminding
her she hadn't eaten since yesterday lunch. Hoping an early
morning walk might shake away the cobwebs, she headed towards
the woods to edge the beach. Struggling through the undergrowth,
she managed to find some berries that she tasted cautiously,
the first taste not leaving any bitterness. She tried to
satisfy her hunger by consuming as many as she could manage.
Just beyond the berry bushes, a pool of water glistened
in the sunlight, little shards of light and dancing across
its gentle tidal movement. Catherine looked around or out of
habit than, expecting to see anyone before undressing and stepping
into the gold water, Shivering at it cold caress. Goosebumps
peppered her skin. She whimpered gently as the water moved
around her thighs and climbed higher, the chill in the
water creating a tingle through her nerves, slowly pushing the
hangover out of every cell, dropping her head below the
surface of the water, shaking free of the last of whiskies.
After effects, she eventually returned to the banking, collected her clothes,
and set out back to a yacht, desperate to return
to Port Talbot and a breakfast that at least involved
bacon and eggs. The sand gripped at her wet feet
as she approached the yacht, the sun's caress drying her
wet body admirably. A bearded face suddenly appeared next to
the stern of the yacht, glaring at her suspiciously while
his hand caressed the white aft in a strangely sensuous manner.
Are yes, sireh, mistress, he called out, his eyes dancing
over her naked body. I'm suddenly aware of her exposed form.
Katherine pulled her clothes tightly across her breast, the wildfire
of a blush spreading from her to toe. Who are
you keep your hands off my yacht? Catherine responded, realizing
how silly it sounded the moment the words left her lips.
It's you, he said, his mouth dropping open, sholl dripping
from every paw. But it can't be I boom, he stuttered.
Are you serious? Man? Have you got sunstroke? Catherine inquired
sternly sorry, I'm Captain William Blackhart at your service, Mistress.
My crew cut me adrift in the storm last night,
shaking his head as if we're removing some hated thought.
When his eyes opened again, they seemed to burn right
through her clothes as he spoke, well, Captain Blackhart, get
away from my yacht, she said, hoping to at least
appear authoritative. I need to board her and dress. His
gaze rose, a look of horror moved over his face.
You're a woman. You can't be dressed on a ship, mistress,
she laughed in reply, her sounds becoming strangled as she
realized he was being absolutely serious. And why not, may
I ask? She eventually asked, Because you're a woman and
it would offend the sea if you board the ship. Dressed, mistress,
he said, his face contorted with shock. William took a
step around the yacht. His state of clothing was little
better than Catherine's. She repressed a gasp as her eyes
drifted over the plane of his stomach and fixed on
the large erection that stood proud in the morning sun.
Moving between her and the yacht, he blocked her path
as she stepped closer to her vessel. Eventually they were
defiantly face to face. She could feel the heat of
his breath. It was so close. Let me get on
my yacht and get dressed, she repeated sternly. Suddenly he
grabbed her wrist. Please, mistress, it's the death of us,
both of you. Do bought her naked, and stay as
God intended. Do not dress. His eyes glowed with in
her heat. Catherine twisted her wrists, trying to release herself
from his grasp, trying to ignore that damn direction that
teased at her stomach. Her grip loosened on her clothes,
and they fell into a pile on the white sand,
completely exposing her. She could feel the heat of his
body pressing over her skin. Damn, she could smell her
own arousal over the coarse fragrance of the sea. Feeling vulnerable,
her gaze held his. Something approximating a mutual understanding passed
between them. His head pressed against her neck, kissing her passionately.
The stubble around his beard dragged across her skin. His
hand dropped between her thighs and rubbed her at folds.
There was no denying her arousal. Something about being caught
naked alone on the beach by a pirate incens something
in Catherine she didn't know existed. She shook her head,
pushing William away. What you doing? What am I doing?
She said, glaring at him. What, mistress, what distresses you?
William said, his face a veil of genuine surprise. And
who speaks like that? Have you been reading too much?
Jane Austen, she said, confused. His brows furrowed, his face
straining with the suggestion of an idea reading Jane Austen,
he asked, You can read, she asked, suddenly curious, No, Mistress, Yes,
I went to see when I was still young and
have been there ever since. Curiosity turned to a glimmer
of understanding, albeit a very illogical deduction, and Catherine asked,
what year did you first put to sea, every word
drawn out, wary she might not like the answer, seventeen
hundred and twenty one. William replied in such a matter
of fact way, as if it could never be wrong. Right.
Catherine responded, accepting his answer as a truth, even if
she couldn't comprehend how it could be, ignoring his erection,
we still tormented our body. Catherine studied the naked man
in front of her, his body a patchwork of scars,
his skin a patchwork of tribal artwork, which she suspected
was original and not contriveding some Britique tattoo salon. He
truly looked like a man who had weathered all the
storms of the Seven Seas and lived to tell the
tell you were a pirate, she asked, hoping not to offend. Yes, Mistress,
I am, he said, his chest pressing out as he
filled with pride, trying to absorb everything. Catherine could feel
her mind reeling in confusion. Ever since being a little girl,
she had loved the sea. She had read every book
she could on pirates. There was just something so dangerously
romantic and sexy about them, And the truth was her
pussy had known William Blackhart was a pirate long before
he had told her. It positively burned with desire. He
took another step forward, his hand rising quickly to grasp
the back of her neck again, his erection pressed unforgivingly
against her mound. Her treacherous pussy responded with need. Damn,
it was already clutching like a kraken's beak. You, mistress,
are definitely a siren. Feel how hard you make my
body with just your presence, he growled. There was no
doubt how firm his erection was. Catherine was more than
aware of it burning against her skin, and even more
aware of her body's reaction. Without thinking, she could feel
her fingers stretching around his girth, trying to feel as
if it was real and this wasn't just an erotic
dream caused by the veil of whiskey. He throbbed in
her hand, his body tense to her touch, his rough
fingers pushing between her thighs, Feeling the swollen lips of
her pussy, he rubbed it firmly, his abrace of skin,
sending pulses of delicious pain through every nerve. She groaned
as her lips stretched around his fingers as they invaded
deep inside her pussy, turning her she suddenly felt her
yacht pressing at her back. His gaze held hers before
his mouth secured onto her neck, his cracked lips teasing
that soft skin, his teeth biting at her, pushing his
fingers deeper, his thrusting motion lifting Catherine onto the tips
of her toes, with every movement, kissing over the curves
of her breast, viciously biting at her reck nipples. William
let his fingers fall away from a pussy as he
fell to his knees, pushing her thighs apart, the vicious
sting of his beard pressing against a soft flesh of
her legs as his tongue wickedly explored her sex. There
was nothing gentle about this man's seduction. It was purely animalistic.
He fed upon her sex, gorged upon it, not as
a man trying to deduce his mate, but like a
beast starved of his favorite food. The heat of his
breath burned against her to match the growing ache in
her pussy. Leaning back against her boat, Catherine lifted one
leg over his shoulder, and then the other, rubbing her
throbbing pussy over his beard, the sensation electrifying every so
in her. Tightening her thighs, she forced his head hard
against her, her pussy, welcoming the broad strokes of his
invasive tongue fulks. She could feel her core clutching with
the need she hadn't experienced before, hungrily grasping for his
tongue as it pushed inside her, Her body tensed, waiting
for the impending explosion. Alone on the island, as she
felt completely free, completely uninhibited, growling at his vicious caress,
she held her breath for a brief moment before her
orgasm ignighted through every cell of her body. Lowering her
legs gently, she stood shakily for a moment before William
stood back up, his cock seeming even harder from tasting
her pleasure. Catherine pushed arms around him before turning him
and pressing him against the boat and grasping his pulsing shafts.
She sank to her knees, her lips voraciously consuming his length,
her tongue circling him as he started thrusting his hips,
pressing into the back of her throat. She had given
blow jobs before, but she had never been as hungry
for a cock in her mouth as she was right now.
She could feel her gag reflex as he filled her throat,
but swallowed it back, pushing her mouth along his length,
every inch, throbbing with carnal delight, every movement of her
lips mirrored by her pussy, her previous orgasm, not releasing
his grip as she pushed her head with frantic desire.
As the sensations grew between her thighs, the first drops
of his pre comb caressed her tongue. Reluctantly, Catherine released
him from her mouth. Standing, she grasped his erection and
guided it towards her wanton pussy. William turned her again,
pressing her back against the boat, his fingers digging into
her ass. As he lifted her. Katherine wrapped her legs
around his waist as a tip of his cock pressed
between her folds, stretching her lips to the edge of pain.
Before he started thrusting, each and every movement punctuated with
a hungry growl. Katherine clung on to him, her arms
wrapped around his neck as a relentless force of his
cock pressed deeper and deeper inside her. The motion of
gravity pressed him even further. As she slid up and
down the side of her yacht, Will responded by pounding
even harder. A desperation filled his body. The sensation of
the boat rocking from the force of his thrust just
accentuated the pleasure moving through her Moaning rapidly, she pushed
back against him, willing him to fill her to the
very end. The searing heat of his orgasm punished the
walls of her pussy, forcing an avalanche of pleasure to
resonate through every cell, while his cock post warm streams
of his satisfaction. He continued to thrust relentlessly deep. Hard
pounds of his cock perpetuated Catherine's orgasm, her screams of
pleasure becoming louder and louder, transforming into growls as her
satisfaction pummeled every inch of her body. What's the last
drops of his orgasm filled her pussy, his move and slowed,
a still trembling cock. Dropping from between her swollen folds,
Catherine lowered her legs to the ground, her knees buckling.
Clinging on to him, they both fell into the soft sand.
Catherine giggled like a schoolgirl as a ways of afterglow
moved up and down her body, wondering in the privacy
of her own mind, what her reserved friends would make
for at this moment if they could see her. Eventually,
she did manage to say, so, you're a real life pirate.
A hint of disbelief still danced in her words. Yes,
these past thirty years, mistress, he replied quietly. Mentally, she
did the math, consoling herself that she had always liked
older men. So where's your ship? She said, wishing she
could take the question back as soon as the last
word left her lips. My crew, mutinied, The treacherous dogs,
he said. Catherine could fill every muscle in his body
tense in anger just at the thought. But once I
get to Port Talbot and see the Governor, he will
give me a ship and crew to hunt them down,
and I'll know each and every one of them to
the mass for taking my money from me. Catherine stared
at the clear blue sky above her, pondering how to
handle the next stage of their conversation. This was definitely
going away. She had no ability to handle. What chear
do you think it is? She asked quietly, preparing herself
for the appending storm seventeen fifty nine, Mistress, he said,
without a hint of doubt. Well, it's a bit further
on than that, she said gently, unsure how he would
react to what she was about to tell him. It's
twenty twenty two, she whispered, tensing herself for his reaction.
A sea gull screamed overhead, but apart from that and
the gentle sound of the tide laughing at the beach,
there was only tranquil silence. If anything. William's body seemed
to relax a little as he processed the information. So
the sea carried me away from those dogs. Truly bless me,
he said, reverently. Yes, she replied, unable to grasp his logic,
but grateful that he hadn't responded angrily. I can get
you to port Tobert, she ventured, and maybe we can
find you some clothes as a start, Yes, he said, simply,
his mind obviously elsewhere. Come on, let's get on board,
she said, cheerfully, her hands spanking the hard muscle of
his chest. Standing, Catherine picked up her strewn clothes from
the beach and started dressing. William just looked at her.
The veil of horror returning, A woman can't be on
a ship dressed, mistress, his voice stressed with concern. Women
made their peace with the sea many years ago, she said, smiling,
She doesn't mind women being dressed on the ships now. Suspiciously,
William watched her, his expression obviously doubtful. Ignoring him, Catherine
dressed and climbed a board a yacht. William winced as
he watched her, looking out to see as if expecting
a tempest to rise any second. When nothing happened, his
shoulders slumped in what seemed to be disappointment. Standing he
walked to the side of the yacht, eyeing the ship,
eventually climbing on board and standing unsteadily as if expecting
it to sink without warning. Surveying the deck, he eventually
said quietly, I've never captained a ship like this, Mistress.
Oh it's okay, I'll sail her. You just follow my command,
Catherine said, without thinking, even without turning to face him,
she could feel the horror emanating from his body. Desperate
to get home and enjoy a decent breakfast to satisfy
the hunger which had now grown tenfold in her stomach,
she ventured when I am a siren, we know all
about the sea, and waited his response. Strangely, he seemed
calmed by that thought. But it appeared that something he knew,
even if it was bad, was better than a whole
bunch of stuff he couldn't grasp, she mused as she
raised the anchor, the tide slowly carrying them out to
sea and toward Port Talbart, toward home. She wasn't sure
how she was going to explain how much Port Tobert
had changed in all those years, but that was a
problem to be dealt with once they had feasted on
bacon and eggs. So next week, the next part of
our time traveling pyrot erotic fantasy. What will happen when
they get to poor Talblet? How will William cope with
their modern times? Will they be able to find him
some clothing? Will they find bacon and eggs? Well, you'll
have to just tune in next week to find out.
So until then, when we can get wild and bad
all over again, and always with your pleasure in mind,
This is devil in wild Wishing. Use the Lacio streams
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Speaker 2: Is seen at the spat Spain and add into a
deficate aducted age P and intattet and saducted