Ruler & Rider

Francis Drake: I guess Rulers really do measure up.
Jeanne d'Arc smiles and nods her head. "Thank you for your kind words."
Francis Drake freezes mid-laugh, eyes opening in glazed, empty gaze. Her arms slowly fall limp by her sides -- this is impossible.
Francis Drake: You... didn't see the joke there?
Jeanne d'Arc just looks at her. "I'm not sure if I could consider it a joke, but I did see something."

Francis Drake collapses onto her knees, then falls back on her ass. "I didn't think I'd actually meet someone this innocent," she mutters quietly, hanging her head in shock. "Fine, here you go," she admits with a defeated tone, holding up a rolled up scroll of depraved illustrations of Christian saints. Jeanne included on top.

Jeanne d'Arc had the reaction one would think for such an innocent person when shown this scroll. Was she a servant or a red traffic light? The color of her face made it hard to distinguish. "W.wh..whhhwhwhowwhhooo would... draw.. such a thing?" Even she fell to her knees from the shock. The girl who stared death in the face unflinching multiple times, was unaffected by her own burning, lost her composure.

Francis Drake stared off to the side, chucking once she got her momentum back. "You'd be surprised at how many people lust after that body of yours. That's just the tip of the iceberg, there's hundreds of that type out there. People will fantasize about doing all kinds of things to you. Is it your fault or not, I can't really say. I just know there's a lot of want for it. And I'd be lying if I said I was any more immune to it. Why do you think I has all those things on me person, hm?"

Jeanne d'Arc looked down at her own body and sighed. She never really considered herself the attractive kind, but that may be the fault of her own humility. Regardless, now that she was aware of the problem or if it was actually a problem, she had to figure out how to deal with it. The first step would be to ask someone who admittedly thought the same. "I'm not sure...I don't know if it is supposed to be flattering or insulting... but I must ask you. What can I do about this situation?"

Francis Drake shrugs and spreads her arms, pushing herself up off the floor into standing again. A little dusting off and searching about for a bottle, Drake talks while admittedly not facing Jeanne at any given time. It's as if she's talking to herself. "Why, it's quite simple, young girl. You either take it as an insult, much like most noblemen and women would, and try to hunt down each and every slight on your pretty little pride. I rather doubt your chances of success in that, given how people resist such oppression. You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Ah, a bottle. Teeth bite into the cork, tug it out and spit it on the floor, letting the captain get a good swig. "Or, and I cannot the words coming out of me mouth..." Rider turns to face her for once, closing her eyes and slowly opening them as if she'd just waken up. "You can embrace them, for better or worse. I doubt you're technically a part of the church's priesthood so chastity's less of a problem to you than it is for them. Who's to say a girl doesn't have needs, and you can already see there's quite a repertoire of ideas available on how to start going about it. I reckons that asking about just a wee bit would give you all the inspiration you could ever hope for -- for better or worse. With that in mind, I can only offer advice and aid, to do any more would make me a rapist of saints." Admittedly that wouldn't be an unheard of crime for a pirate, but Drake decided not to mention that. "So, what's it gonna be in that regard? You can take your time, I can see you're still blushing wilder than a landlubber girl stolen for a honeymoon by her first sailor."

Jeanne d'Arc shook her head and looked up to Drake. "No... I've faced scorn before, though admittedly not like this and have not budged. People have their opinions and desires.. and it should not be my place to judge them." The pirate hit the nail dead center. She was not a part of the clergy so the vow of chastity was not a requirement. She had died so her own vow of chastity was not as important as it was back in her life. Though memories of her dying days returned to her mind. "Rider... I pray you keep this secret... but admittedly.... now in this era. It is not solely about keeping the vow I had as a girl. It is fear that holds me back from attempting to indulge in .. as you said.. needs. The fear that came from the night before I was burned at the stake... that was when I lost my virginity...against my will." She took a deep breath to calm herself from reliving those flashbacks. "Though now... as a servant... as a Ruler.... I face more horrific deeds than rape... and such fear will only hamper my ability to do my duties." The blonde placed her hands on the floor in order to get on one knee, then forced herself to stand up. "May I seek your counseling in this matter? To learn not to be afraid of sexual intercourse?"

Francis Drake listens with a relatively attentive gazed fixed on Jeanne the entire time, occasionally reeling her head back and taking a drink. Despite the booze, she doesn't seem to lose her focus one bit. In the end, though, Drake approaches one step at a time, arms slightly spread at her sides. "Do I look like a priest receiving confessions, Ruler? Let us pretend that I knew how to handle that kind of counsel. Do you believe it to be so easy as to get rid of it in a one-two go like that? Unlikely, I says. What I can do, however, is not treat you like a helpless young girl that needs saving but as a woman that knows what she wants. There be a difference in someone taking from you what they want and you giving it to them. For all intents and purposes that power is in your hands, and I shall graciously follow your lead in whatever it is you decide. Although if it's me body you're after, I'd suggest starting with showing some more skin. I have it on good accord that if you don't get so gloomy about it, it won't be as harrowing to face, will it now?" And this is why Drake wasn't a therapist. She really didn't know how to ease people into things -- although she did at least give the assurance of choice. "I live by the rule of having no fear reaching for what you really desire. If you want to learn to be the same way and not be afraid of trying, all you need is a little encouragement." And as if on cue, the last few mouthfuls swishing in the rum were offered forth. Get drunk and laid, huh. Yeah, this is about what pirates would offer.

Jeanne d'Arc "If I considered you a priest, I would not be admitting to this," she replied and looked Drake in the eyes. "Nor am I so foolish to believe that it is something I can overcome in one or two days. If anything, this is a process that takes much longer to get used to and to get over. That said, Captain Drake. I am aware of your exploits and your success in wooing women," that was a bit hard for Jeanne to say with a straight face. "These are the requests of a girl.. that is on the edge of a life changing decision.... that seeks your... forgive me for saying counseling. Perhaps it would be better to say expertise in the matter." She gave some compliance to Drake as she took on her third ascension form, but without her armor or the shoulder veil. So yes, obviously she was taking very small steps to showing Drake her skin. However, the pirate's question made her chuckle. "To face your fears with a smile.... or to live without fears...no hesitation to what you desire.... I can see why you are so charismatic." Then the girl looked at the bottle of rum, something she also did not have any experience with. That look only lasted a second before Jeanne closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "For the sake of learning.... Sir Francis Drake... I will not take the lead. I will follow your lead and hand myself over to you." Dear God, that was hard to say, but came out much easier than she thought it would.

Francis Drake stared silently for a moment before bursting into laughter, one arm holding her stomach and her entire figure hunching over. All the seriousness just vanished from the atmosphere, almost to the point of it feeling like she wasn't taking Jeanne seriously anymore. "Ahhhahahahahaaa! Ahahahah, hahah, hahhh... Ahahahahahahahaaahahahah!"

Jeanne d'Arc blushed at her and frowned. "Have I said something to humor you," the blonde asked as she watched the laughing pirate. She was new to such a situation.. to such a request so there was a lot she was probable missing.

Francis Drake waved her hand, trying to reply non-verbally while trying to calm herself down. "No, no, no, no... nohohohooo..." A few snickers and deep breaths later, Drake instead stepped in and wrapped one arm around Jeanne's shoulders, pulling her into a friend-like half hug. "Listen, first of all I get why but you're being way too serious. Don't think too much of it, you'll hype yourself up for all kinds of expectations and then it all feels like nothing. See, I don't expect to get anything when I go into someone--" Wait, no. "Er, something." That wasn't smooth at all. "I just go for it and see what I can get. So, first of all let's get you distracted. Take the bottle. Drink. Don't think about the taste, don't think about the warmth, just keep drinking until the whole damn bottle's empty. It's only got less than a glass' worth left, anyway. Enough for one or two sips, maybe. Here." She even pushed the dull green bottle against Ruler's chest, chanting "drink, drink, drink" quietly into her right ear. Wasn't this supposed to be of sexual liberation-- you know what, forget it. This narrative is sick of the Captain's antic.

Jeanne d'Arc raised an eyebrow at Drake, leaning against the woman's rather strong shoulder as the captain had issues with proper word selection. The drink smelled strongly as compared to the few cups of wine she had when she was growing up. Even without the motivation to keep drinking, the blonde took the bottle to her lips and raised it while tilting her head back. God it was strong, it burned going down her throat, but if she could drink this all down, it would help right?

Francis Drake patted Jeanne's shoulder in rhythm, cheering her on and making a cheer once she was done with the last drop. "Whoooo! You're a champ, doing it like it's nothing!" And off they went tackled down onto the ground in a joyous clash; Drake's chest practically buried Ruler's head into its soft embrace and one hand traveled down to her hips to slide under her clothes, slightly chilly fingers pressing against the thigh. The other hand grabbed Jeanne by the hair, yanked her up out of the suffocating cleavage and got her roughly on eye level with Rider herself. They were closer than ever before, their noses practically touching each other already. The first kiss landed to the side, on the cheek and closer to the ear, air filled with Drake's deep, muffled humming. Some sort of sea shanty, maybe. The rum didn't seem to go anywhere, it was even faintly lingering from the pirate's clothes! Still, she was warm to the touch, warmer than the ground and only her extremities were cold -- though one hand was quickly warming up thanks to its shameless exploring in Jeanne's pants. Thank God it didn't go straight for the underwear, but instead caressed the side of her thigh and slowly made its way around to the back. This was going a little faster than one would expect 'counsel' to go. Was Drake just taking this chance to do what she wanted after all, or was she still trying to help? Bloody pirates, it's impossible to tell.

Jeanne d'Arc the Lord worked in mysterious ways... and one of those ways was Drake's chest being in perfect position to intercept the Ruler's head, because otherwise it would have ended up with the bottle hitting the floor first and Jeanne hitting the bottle. Yes, suffocation by cleavage was preferred to smashing glass with her forehead. Though it was fortunately not a death sentence as the captain pulled the light weight Ruler out from her cleavage. Her cheeks were rosy with a red streak going across her face to indicate the alcohol was effective. Jeanne's conscience was barely able to focus as she was trying to adapt herself to this drunken state when... the pirate made her first move! The kiss to the cheek made her giggle like a school girl, but as Drake approached her ear, Jeanne's giggles changed to moans. She wore a pair of black shorts over her panties, but they were short and tight enough on her body that they did not hamper her movements. In this case, it meant Drake was able to touch the majority of her thigh directly. Surprisingly, the alcohol did not dampen her sense of touch, so electric signals traveled up her body with the finger tips touching her leg and resulted in further moans exiting the saint's mouth, though they were lower in volume than those that came from the kisses. As the pirate worked towards her rear, the French girl placed her hands on her shoulders for further support, leaning forward for balance, but also jutting her rear out and making it an easier target.

Francis Drake was more than content with the direction this was going. Their bodies grew closer and closer together, pressing against one another from knees to shoulders. Eventually one of Drake's legs hooked over and around one of Jeanne's, entwining them even more than before. Lips parted and let out a warm exhale over the girl's ear, only to close and trap the very edge of the earlobe between those plush, soft lips. A little pressure, shifting around, even a slight graze of her wet tongue along the silhouette was the teasing she inflicted. Even the humming caused subtle vibrations that transferred through her mouth onto the ear. Drake's hands weren't quite so subtle. Fingers spread wide open and squeezed as much of the woman's ass as they could hope to grasp, sinking the fingertips into the soft rear and shifting about to knead to her heart's content. This kind of groping might've almost been manageable if it wasn't made even more tight and cramped by those shorts underneath which the hand had slipped. This up close, Rider's own groin pressed firmly against one of Jeanne's thighs, the throbbing sensation coming through even past the fabric of her clothes. Hell, she could feel how it grew from sheer lust. There wasn't even a single moment of peace to think from how overwhelmingly Drake enjoyed the girl's body, from head to toe staying in contact and employing every sense.

Jeanne d'Arc made it painfully, hilariously obvious to Drake that the pirate found her weakspot a her moans became louder and her shaking became more apparent from the ear sucking and licking. Each breath against her sensitive skin made Jeanne unconsciously press her rather plump rear into the pirate's grasp so she could get more with each squeeze. Perhaps this counterbalanced the tightness provided by her shorts. Jeanne's moans continued from the two front pleasure assault, but it was made obvious to Drake that her hands were effective because of how the blonde was gripping her shoulders and pressing her body against the British pirate. Then she felt something against her thigh, warm despite having three or four layers of clothes between them. Did pirates wear underwear? She never heard anything about that subject to believe they did. Though, the saint had an unintentional response to the acts of pleasure as she turned her head slightly and began exhaling and moaning her hot breath against her 'teacher's' skin.

Francis Drake pressed her lips tightly on the bottom of the earlobe, leaned back, tugged it with her and finally let go, sighing contently. "Ahh, it's one thing to just tease you about like this," she mused with that rum-deepened voice of hers, reaching her tongue out of her mouth and painting the edges of the ear with her saliva. "It's another to really pound you into next week. You sure sound like you're enjoying yourself, if nothing else." Drake sat up and pulled Jeanne up with her, giving her some pause to gather her thoughts from the sudden assault of sensations. There, still quite close but with at least a fist's worth of distance between them, the scarred captain looked her right in the eyes with some well-earned, smug confidence. She knew exactly what she was doing to the poor girl. "Feeling lightheaded? I don't want to start french kissing you and have you start feeling sick halfway through. Who knows, maybe the liquor was a tad too strong for you." It might've been phrased selfishly, but even still, she asked how Ruler was handling it all. She cared, at least in her own way.

Jeanne d'Arc replied to the pulling and the follow up lick with the same loud moan that made her question if she was any different from any other girl. Still, the time needed to recover was greatly appreciated as her accelerated metabolism thanks to servant status allowed Jeanne to clear her head a little. The realization came to her about what just happened and in most cases, she'd be huddled up in a corner thinking what the heck was wrong with her. However, this was not most cases. Jeanne knew, somewhat, that she was getting into something that would be embarrassing. Then came a sense of boldness that was the response to Drake's question. A bit of confidence shot through Jeanne like adrenaline. Alcohol would not defeat her! It would not dissuade her! It would not make her go into something with doubts she knew absolutely nothing about this! Too bad that's exactly what it did. Jeanne wrapped her arms around Drake's neck and pushed her lips against the pirate's to give her the answer.

Francis Drake 's arms wrapped around Jeanne's waist in return, leaning into her kiss and eyes closing to focus on it. Lips parted, low, deep hum of content ringing through the air, a tight embrace. All of them combined to receive every second of the girl's own move. Drake was greedy by nature, however, and quickly longed for more, her tongue starting to brush against their joined lips, sliding past and against Ruler's own tongue. She began leaning forward as a whole, laying Jeanne on her back and leaving herself on top. Knees together and arms supporting her weight, there was no huge strain on the girl's body. Instead, her shorts were tugged on, pulling her hips off the ground and slightly up into the air. Little by little Rider began stripping Jeanne, only the items that she had to while leaving everything else intact. She broke the kiss, leaned back in, broke again and went in once more every now and then, thanks to her shaky posture; supporting her weight on the one hand pressed on the ground right next to the blonde's head and the two knees further down wasn't the most stable, but she managed. Slightly. Either way, it was obvious this captain wanted to get into her pants. Badly. "Y'know," she whispered between kisses, licking her lips to break the occasional strand of spit left connecting their faces. "It really wouldn't be hard for you to get whoever you damn well pleased. Not with a body like this. And I'm going to show you exactly why..." It'd take a bit of cooperation, bending the knee and slipping one foot out of those shorts before fling it away with the other along with the underwear, but if Rider got through that hurdle, she'd lay her hand on those wide hips, pull the Frenchwoman close against her hips and grind against her body, pressing herself between those two fair legs and onto Jeanne in her entirety.

Jeanne d'Arc never really understood what made a French kiss... to her there was regular kissing. What made it so different that it was naaammmmeedd... there we go! She felt Drake's tongue go into her mouth and press against her own. Another blush came to her face and she tried pushing back with her tongue, but strength stat did not matter in this particular situation. So the french girl found her tongue being dominated and surprisingly she liked it. The skills of the captain were enough to kill any and all resistance the saint had in her body, making it easier for her to be laid down on the bed. She focused on the kiss, letting the captain explore around in her mouth while her shorts and white panties were removed. When the kiss finished, Jeanne's lower body was only covered by her knee high black stockings and her dress, and furthermore, she cooperated while Drake was stripping her of her lower garments. Still, the constant kisses were distractions from any embarrassment she would face. When their lips separated, Jeanne took the time to catch her breath, nodding to the pirate and waiting in anticipation for what was next. Then she came to realize something. Droplets of fluid were coming from between her legs, now being absorbed by Drake's pants and against her crotch perhaps. At the very least, it was a confirmation the pirate's efforts paid off.

Francis Drake straightened herself upright, her breathing having quickened noticeably already. A single bead of drool flowed down the corner of her mouth to her chin, head canting to look down at her pants and whistle. "Wheeew... look at you, gears running like greased lightning already. Here," she paused, dragging her middle finger right up against that moist slit, pressing just slightly to part the lips and drag the ball of her digit betwixt them from one end to the other, flicking off in the end. "Why don't you return the favor? See for yourself what you're getting... really, really closely. Don't worry, it won't bite. Hell, you can give it a kiss ♥" Halfway between joking and flirting, Drake rested her hands on her hips standing on her knees and staring Jeanne straight in the eyes, just daring her outright to get up and take those pants off with her own hands. God, she could even hear the fabric of Rider's pants groaning from the strain, trying to contain that... THING.

Jeanne d'Arc this was the moment of truth. The saint was staring down the biggest obstacle of her progress, and the emphasis was on biggest. The ones that took her in life were nothing compared to that leviathan in Drake's pants. Doubt began rising from the depths of Jeanne's mind, only to be silenced by the pleasure of the pirate's hands against her womanhood and the final flick. Surprisingly, it felt very good and so she needed to respond in kind. So the blonde accepted her dare, placing her hands on Francis's pant and pulling them down to reveal the beast that laid in the depths. The size, heat and smell were all taken into Jeanne's mind and her body reacted by producing a little more fluids, but otherwise she stared in awe. Two seconds passed as she gathered her courage and brought her head closer to Drake's piece, placing a kiss on the lower gland.

Francis Drake 's eyes narrowed in a deeper sense of satisfaction; the sight of the Christian blonde, lowering her head and making out with dick right in front of her was exhilarating without even taking into account how good it felt physically. Something between a growl and a moan came out of her mouth, one hand reaching to the base of her shaft and pulling on the skin to expose the tip properly. Even her own hand couldn't properly wrap around, and trying to cup those balls with one hand was out of the question due to their sheer size. Drake's hips shifted off center, her free palm cupping one of Jeanne's cheeks and lifting her to look up into her own eyes. It was almost impossible to even maintain eye contact with that massive chest in the way. "You like what you see? Can you even imagine how it'll feel? I can't, not yet, but the better acquainted you'll get with it now, the more familiar it'll feel when it's all the way inside you. Memorize every last detail. Every bump, every swollen inch, every curve and texture. And if you want to go that far, even the taste ♥"

Jeanne d'Arc removed her mouth for a moment as Drake peeled back the head. "It's...comparable to a monster by its sheer size...," the blonde admitted and gulped. However, there was no return past this point. Jeanne inhaled, pulled down her top so her own chest was out in the open and repositioned herself so she was on her knees, facing Drake's personal mast. Again, Jeanne started with a kiss, but this one was on the tip and trailed down the head and shaft to the base. She did as she was told, taking in the texture and the smell which was overwhelming. Though the taste required something else. It required the French girl's tongue which made its debut against the massive balls of her partner. Then the blonde began her trek back to the head with her tongue dragging against the hot piece. Her hands followed, both having to cup the shaft because one was not enough.

Francis Drake 's body involuntarily tensed up, one hand shakily laying on Jeanne's head and caressing her scalp as she began experimenting, even enjoying herself. Eyes closed and head falling back, as Rider's legs slowly slid apart her body spoke of nothing but pleasure. She felt good. Definitely an encouragement, assurance that Ruler was doing everything right, despite how intimidating the size itself was. Little by little, however, Drake's hand slid down towards the back of her head and began pulling her closer. "Open your mouth, girl. Wiiiiiiide open," she sighed out, a visible throb making the entire length of her cock twitch, stiffen up and outright smack against Jeanne's cheek before falling back down onto her hands. "Unless you want to fuck already. At this point, I gotta admit I'm too far gone what hole I get, so long as I get to fuck something. I can't keep my cool with tits like that swinging in my face all the time." When Rider looked back down, the look in her eyes was noticeably different. It was less about confidence, and more... hunger. She wanted Jeanne, and that kind of burning desire might even seem familiar in a sense -- but while her voice carried a definite tone of a pent-up, turned on pirate, there wasn't any brute force in the way she handled Jeanne. Not the hand on her head, the shaft in front of her face, not the flirty, lopsided posture of her curvy body.

Jeanne d'Arc closed her eyes when she saw the mast coming towards her face, but what smacked against her face surprisingly did not hurt. She did not know what to think between fear and excitement. Jeanne for the most part, had returned to her senses from the alcohol and was now contemplating on what to do next. Could her mouth take such a beast without her jaw breaking? Was that worth the risk? She paid close attention to the wording of the pirate, particularly fuck in its full definition. With that beast and Drake's vitality, her jaw would be torn to pieces and her throat raw. However, Jeanne's lower body should be able to take it, so she thought. Her response was another kiss to the tip. Then she pulled away and laid on her back, slowly and shakily spreading her legs for the captain. "Please..be gentle at first." Spoken just like a virgin on her consummation night.

Francis Drake leaned forward in turn, slowly crawling on top of the girl on all fours. She bent her elbows, lowering herself closer to Jeanne's face and kissing her again straight on the lips, breaking off and still sliding her tongue from one corner of the blonde's mouth to the other. "No promises, Ruler," she replied with a snicker. Still relatively light-hearted and far from serious! It took a few sliding misses, letting inch after inch move up the girl's abdomen and then pulling back before it all lined up right... and the slow, steady push picked up in pace the deeper she went. At first it was but a snail's pace, parting the outer lips and starting to make some unfathomable stretching from the sheer thickness pushing inside of her. Then, the smooth, drool-coated tip sank all the way inside, following by two fat inches more. There, she stopped, still with plenty to go. Foreheads bumped together and Drake ever so slightly moved her hips around, left and right, up and down, stirring the tip way inside the woman's tight, wet nethers. "Color me surprised if you can take it all the way. Y'know, we could do this again some other day. Just you, me, a bottle of rum and your lips around my dick; I could get used to that... Jeanne ♥"

Jeanne d'Arc watched her partner lower herself, accepting the pink haired woman's lips as they pressed against her own. She moaned into the kiss, even letting out a few small ones against the pirate's tongue. The first few misses made Jeanne narrow her eyes as she knew she was being played with, but she could not express it any other way because of how hot the meat mast was against her abdomen. Ultimately, those gasps were a pretty bad idea because when Drake got serious and pushed the monster against Jeanne's lower lips, all the air exited from her lungs. Her eyes widened and her mouth stretched open with no sound coming out for the first second. Then when the tip entered, Jeanne screamed as a torrent of pleasure and pain shot through her nervous system. The wetness from arousal earlier was doing little to change it, and probably worked against her by making it easier for Drake to enter her. Barely entering, the pirate felt resistance from what ended up being Jeanne's renewed hymen, a result of her becoming a heroic spirit. However, it did nothing to prevent the pirate from going further, tearing immediately with a slow but forceful push. Jeanne clenched her fists and tears came down her eyes from the pain, but her mouth seemed to close. No sounds came from her lips after that already loud scream, but she mouthed "continue."

Francis Drake squinted, huffing and pecking Jeanne on the cheek. "You're a sweet little thing. Alright, let's see how you can handle the rest. Feel every last bit going inside you, woman." Fancy that, she wasn't calling Jeanne 'girl' anymore. Wide pirate hips moved again and pushed deeper inside, getting closer and closer to resting those big, warm balls against the blonde's exposed, soft rear. It wasn't one continuous thrust, but occasionally Drake pulled back and made it an advancing, steady pace already. She got a little deeper every time, but despite the obvious discomfort Jeanne had from her sheer endowment, Rider kept going and seemed to just pick up speed the more aroused she became. Her hands took off the ground, grabbed the back of each knee, held those legs firmly in the air and let the hips do all the work. Slowly pulling out, only to slam back in, sweat beaded up on Drake's face, her temples and forehead, her collarbone and neck. "...god, is it satisfying to finally fuck you properly, I'm going to come back for seconds for sure." Rider's voice grew quieter from her louder, teeth-gritting and almost aggressive tone; even when she spoke, she didn't miss a beat in the deep, pussy-stretching pounding. "You're better than some stranger picked up from the street, you know. Normal country girl, my ass, I can't remember feeling someone this tight before ♥" Even if it was depraved, it was a compliment in its own sense... but maybe Drake was getting a little out of control. On top of that, she sounded strained, almost as if she was about to...


Jeanne d'Arc well she was not a girl anymore. Now she was a woman with a massive sea creature invading her womanhood. Her body attempted to resist by the inner muscles squeezing down, but the fluids inside her and the strength of Drake's cock tore through her defenses like a bolder through wet paper. The retreats played games with Jeanne's mind as she wondered each time if Drake was pulling out and a sense of relief and disappointment took over for a moment, if only to be silenced by another thrust. Each time she was able to take a breath, it was forced out with a moan from the pirate's pummeling. "I....I..... I ...... am.... just....that......," she was surprised that her words came out. "A...normal...... country...... girl......" Jeanne was able to complete a sentence and ironically enough, she reached her first orgasm. Odd how it did not happen earlier, but regardless of the saint's endurance. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth stretched wide open, her pussy clenched up like a tighter vice on Drake's monstrosity of a penis, and a torrent of her love juice raced through Jeanne till it was bottlenecked at the entrance and sprayed all over herself and Drake.
Francis Drake 's sweat flowed down onto Jeanne's face as well, slowly she slid down to the side and their shoulders bumped together. Her heavy panting became louder and louder now that her mouth was right next to the blonde's left ear, and just as well the thrusts made Ruler's entire body shake up and down from how they smacked against her body, hips hitting together with a depraved, wet clap filling the air. Over and over again it happened, even as the woman's modest claims echoed between moans and pleasure-filled screams, Drake's greedy and increasingly needy mind drove her to fuck the woman faster, unable to even move when every last inch was clamped down on and squeezed, milked in that orgasm. She didn't have a choice, and without any desire to hold back came all the way inside. It wasn't several thick ropes of cum, but a constant, heavy flood of hot, dense cum in an obscene volume pouring straight into Jeanne. At this point, Rider's knees shook, her shoulders rested most of her weight against the woman underneath her and her forehead hit the floor in blinding bliss, staying buried balls deep in the woman and enjoying the satisfaction of unloading every last drop into her body. Her hands let go of both legs, instead weakly caressing each thigh once they fell down and tried to catch breath for a moment. Eventually, she muttered a choice few words right into the woman's ear, pulling out feeling like the last thing on her mind from how comfortable this was to her. "Don't think like that, Jeanne. Take it from someone with experience, you're good enough to make me cum in minutes. There's nothing to be ashamed about; hell, be happy about it. You're a great fuck to me, and if anyone else says otherwise, I'll fight 'em for it. You're not a whore, but even if you were I couldn't pay enough for something this satisfying. You, woman -- you're priceless."

Jeanne d'Arc felt each droplet on her face, even tasting some of the sweat as it dripped into her mouth. In fact it started bringing her back to reality with another heavy thrust being the final push she needed to regain her senses. Though perhaps that was unfortunate as she was still sensitive from her first orgasm and Drake was going full throttle. The final push of pirate's cock brought on a second orgasm! Jeanne screamed till her throat became dry and she was brought to unintentional tears. Sadly for Jeanne, this was before the pirate fired off her hot seed inside of her. She felt the hot material push inside of her womb and it triggered a third orgasm on the spot. So this was what sex was like? Pleasurable... painful... overwhelming. Even to the point the saint could not move a muscle no matter how hard she tried. So the blonde laid there with Drake's dick still deep inside of her. She watched the captain move forward and whisper into her ear, but had no strength to talk. All she could wonder was what happens next?

Francis Drake didn't fortunately linger there until things got cold. As soon as she began at least somewhat evening out her breath, Rider slowly and carefully pulled out as she was just as sore post-climax as Jeanne was. Okay, maybe not, but still touchy. Straightening herself and sitting on her heels, Drake pulled Jeanne into sitting by her hands, supporting her if she felt a little too limp at first. One kiss on the cheek, another on the forehead, a third on the lips, she kept canting her head and trying to catch the woman's gaze. "So," she cooed. "Feel better when I'm the one doing it? I might get carried away, but I know I'm not terrible." It'd be arrogance if she didn't at least have some skill to back it up. Still... the nerve on pirates sometimes. In Rider's embrace, it was still relatively warm. She had the scent of sweat still in her clothes and the heavy smell of cum rose from between their legs... but it wasn't too bad in this post-coitus high, right?

Jeanne d'Arc was so sensitive that even Drake pulling out was enough to make her shiver and moan. Then the collection of cum and her own love juice flowed out on the floor like a waterfall, making Jeanne whimper. Did she just reach a fourth one? At the point her body was so exhausted and sensitive, it felt like even a breath could push her over the edge. So without that strength to resist, Jeanne was pulled into Drake's embrace, managing to smile as she took all three kisses and replied with the one on the lips. "Ye..ye...yes....," she managed to say and laid back in her embrace. Her own sweat mixed with Drake's on her skin and she even gave the pirate some of her own. This was amazing and actually ignited a desire for more.

Francis Drake pulled the blonde closer, resting the head against her chest and running her hand into those golden locks. "It's alright. I'll be here until your legs can carry you again, and then we're going to get a shower. You're not going out there looking like this, are you now? Just take your time, you did plenty good, considering. But I'll make you a master, mark. My. Words." Again with the flirting tease...

Jeanne d'Arc shook her head against Drake's chest. To go outside looking like the trainwreck she was... that was not just a bad idea, it was a stupid idea! So she tried to force herself to speak. "I... I would like.. a shower....." She would learn to master this feeling. To not be so easily overcome despite the gargantuan size of Drake's weapon.

Francis Drake laughed loudly and her entire body shook from it, even her breasts bounced all up against Jeanne's face. "Ahahahahah! I can imagine! No rush -- we have all day for this." No matter how long it took, Drake waited and waited and eventually escorted Jeanne to the showers. She needed it as much as Ruler did, really. It might've been hectic, but helpful in its own way. And Rider was surprisingly tactful afterwards; one would've expected her to start groping at every turn! Huh, maybe she's not just a one-dimensional lecher.

Jeanne ever wonder what a breast uppercut felt like? Well Jeanne no longer felt it as she took the bouncing cleavage to the chin, though it was light. "All day.. sounds nice... a shower and a nap... will be amazing." Woohoo, she finally got her ability to talk back! Jeanne tried to move her feet, managing to twitch her feet for a bit. Alright, now she can try walking again and with Drake's help, she was able to get to the shower.