Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be writing this.
AN (4/28): It seems that the closer I get to the AP tests, the less I want to work. To make complicated matters even worse, I keep having insane dreams where Jack is in a cage in the middle of a kitchen. Maybe that's why these women keep getting more and more insane as I do…
Of course, this one isn't really very insane. But my favorite is coming up next, I think. Maybe the one after the next one…I can't remember. I need to find that list.
One Night Stands: Number Six
Men are mine for the taking. I can get the pants off of any bloke I set my mind to get the pants off of. Generally, I go for the attractive ones that seem to have a lot of money. Of course, desperate times call for desperate measures, and sometimes I have to resort to soliciting the attentions of the blubbering drunkards that inhabit my abode.
I live at the Mulligan's Meade, a small tavern owned by a Mr. P. Mulligan. I never have bothered to learn what the P truly stands for, because the first night he took me off my corner on the street, he told me to call him "boss". Who was I to say no? He's been boss ever since. Never the formal sort of boss, either. He only points out the ones that will probably be able to handle a lot of alcohol and myself before going back to his business of bartending. Boss really doesn't care about any of his customers. They're all just ways he can earn money to feed his brat at home. He's a fair man, I guess, because there's a few rooms upstairs that can be used for the business of entertaining customers. I'm not nearly pretty enough to work at one of them brothels where there's a Madame and all the women wear silk petticoats. I'm stuck in the most disgusting tavern in this bloody port. But it does pay the bills, as it were, and I am able to meet a lot of interesting people.
There aren't many men that make a big impression on me, actually. Generally I'm quite good at forgetting even the ones with pretty faces. They are inevitably the same person, in bed. It's the exact same thing. I give them a release from all the horrible "manly" stress they go through and occasionally have to make sure that I'm not put out of commission. Some men are really selfish, spreading their seed. Of course…a few men I wouldn't mind having babies with (merely because it generally takes more than one time) have stepped into my home. They're the ones that all of us "ladies" go after, when we see them. I remember the day that the most infamous pirate in the Caribbean stepped into our little tavern.
He'd looked absolutely distraught and depressed and discouraged. The thing was, I wanted to cheer him up. Which is weird. I try not to feel any sort of feelings towards the men I associate with. No point in that, really, because I'll generally never see the same man ever again, unless I'm one of his favorites. A lot of men must think I'm too…energetic in bed, though, because I usually don't get repeat customers. Anyway, I watched him order a few bottles of rum and sit down at a table, smiling very briefly at the barmaid as she dropped off that precious amber. It was one of my few nights off…but I found myself walking over to the table where he sat and offering to share a rum with him.
Misery loves company, they say, so Captain Sparrow was more than happy to invite me to sit with him. He was incredibly quiet as he drank all of his rum that night. It almost seemed to me that he was interested in hearing my actual opinions.
You see, the reason that men and women are so different is that women's opinions are supposed to be absolutely ridiculous. Maybe Sparrow had decided a long time ago to be off-key. Or maybe he really didn't like women at all and just slept with us to appear normal. I don't know. It was rather alarming, at first, as he asked questions that prompted almost intelligent responses from me, and then it got easier. Some men like to talk first. He wanted to listen. No worries. It made my job that much easier.
I did like talking about myself, after all. No one really cares about strumpets. Not even other strumpets. We all are jealous of each other and refuse to get close to anyone, because what's the point? We are used each night by men. Men who respect women. Men who abuse women. Men who have wives, men who are single. Men who are hairy pigs and men who are perfect gentlemen. We are used by them all. And here…here this Sparrow was, treating me like I was a lady! It was…aggravating and refreshing all at the same time.
After he finished all of his rum up (the man couldn't have really been drinking it. Most people would've slumped over, dead, by now), he'd smiled mischievously at me. Of course I knew what he had in mind…all men want that after a few drinks, after all. That's why boss has me wear a dress that shows off my assets. I was rather tired, actually, because of all the talking. Generally I don't say more than five words to a man before he decides to take me upstairs…and here I'd been talking! It was absurd.
But really quite easy. Sparrow's eyes…his beard. His hair. It all seemed to go together and I felt quite lucky to have seen him, let alone talk to him. That voice of his, when he did talk, was enough to make my hard heart start to flutter like some adolescent girl catching sight of that baker down the street or the livery boy…
He suggested that we go upstairs and I was more than happy to oblige. It was my job, after all, and he was a man that needed to be comforted because of something traumatic that had just happened to him. The main reason I could live with myself for selling my body (it had been hard, the first few years) was that I could cheer men up like nothing else for at least a night.
He was a skilled lover. There aren't many men I can say that about. He knew how to pleasure me without asking a single thing, though he was incredibly drunk. If I hadn't been the strumpet in the situation, I probably would've paid him everything I had with me at the time. If only I could have a repeat performance…
Of course, skilled lovers such as himself are quite good at slipping out of bed in the morning without being noticed. When I woke up, he was gone. He did leave me more than my normal fee, though. I just hope Sparrow had as much fun as I did because I know I'm never going to meet another man quite like him.
AttackingHentaiChibisLoveFluff: Always fun to type with wet nails –sarcasm-. I'm glad you like them so much, and thanks for the review!
Arien Belthil: No, she wasn't flipping insane like Number Four. But the next one, probably, will make Number Four look quite normal.
Mystic Moon Maiden: Jack is very much a charmer. Of any and all women. It's going to be a problem for him, eventually…but thank you for the review!
Daisy: I'm sick of school too, Daisy. Absolutely positively sick of it. But…what can you do? I wish you luck in choosing your college, because that's always really hard.
Thanks for the advice and the review!
Raisin: I wish you luck on your tests, really, I do! I can totally empathize. Dunno why I'm putting this up, frankly, because I should've been working today in technology. But I didn't.
No, they don't mind sharing. Which I find is rather sweet. I'd leave a longer reply, but I've got two minutes…
CrazyPirateGirl:I know I envied those two girls. That's my dream right there. Of course, I'd rather not share him…but thanks for the review!
Jack: Maybe it was because they were so selfless. You get a copy of my resume, for being the first to review. Thanks.