Archive: Master and Apprentice. Ask if you want it.
Warnings: No Monty Python or Dr. Seuss anywhere.... :)
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns the characters. I saw TPM six
times....
Feedback: Always. master_fishgoat@yahoo.com
Summary: The guys play a game.
Note: This is an early birthday present I wrote for me. Hope
you enjoy it!
"Guess."
The softly spoken order comes to me through the darkness.
Blinded, I can neither see the speaker, nor feel him. I sense
his presence by the way the mattress is tilted by his weight. A
whisper of fabric reaches my ears, telling me of pleasure to
come.
No sight. No images. Only sensation. I know there is a candle
for light; I can hear its sputtering. A feather-light brush
against my neck draws my attention. Smooth, cool to the touch.
A mate to the veil around my eyes.
"Staffa silk."
A slither across my collarbone and the scarf is removed. I wait
for the next touch with anticipation. It comes in the form of a
caress over my thigh. So good.... I can smell the object's
distinctive scent, very pleasant. I smile.
"Glove."
A slight tweak and the sensation of leather on skin disappears.
I sigh, a little disappointed. This is too quick. Perhaps I
should delay the next answer.
Soft, teasing, tickling...the light scratch against my nipple
makes me squirm suddenly. A couple of circles around that
sensitive point and I have it. A feather. I do not answer right
away. I want to draw out the game a little.
I shudder as the feather moves along my chest, tracing the
hollows of muscle and bone. Tantalizingly it traces my
collarbone then curls around one pectoral.
"Ack! Tickles..."
A chuckle greets my twitching and the teasing touch continues
down over my sternum to concentrate on my navel. My breathing
speeds up slightly.
The swirling movements slow down, tortuously so; inexplicably
they stop altogether. I tilt my head questioningly in his
direction.
"You know the rules: guess, or I stop."
I let out a sigh. Drat. "A feather."
"Ah-ha, so you WERE feigning ignorance." A mischievous chuckle
leaves my lover's lips. Oh no....
Long strands of hair flow over my groin and up my abdomen,
making me writhe in pleasure. I try to bury my hands in his
mane but the Force is used to keep them away. Ah, feels so
good, so hard to remember to follow the rules. He knows I love
the way his hair feels as it cascades over my skin, which is of
course why he only taunts me with the barest of caresses.
Sadist. Then even that ghostly brush stops momentarily.
"H-hair," I manage to whisper as the teasing starts again, down
my legs and over my feet. Disappears for a moment to return to
my neck and my face. I manage to sneak a kiss, inhale the scent
of sweat and soap. He continues tickling my chest and stomach
while steadfastly refusing to touch my groin. My moans and
shudders take on an air of frustration.
He takes pity on me briefly, letting the full weight of his
hair slide down my torso. Too soon, the stroking stops, to be
replaced it with.... He starts to lick my ear.
"Tongue," I moan, enjoying every sensation. How wonderful this
feeling of floating in a vast sea of void, with only a caress
to anchor me. How strange. It seems like he has no substance,
no form, his only existence his touch, disembodied. My phantom
lover.
That thought inexplicably chills me. Fortunately his tongue has
started tracing my jugular, extinguishing all rational thought.
"That's right. Feel, don't think," he whispers into my neck.
I chuckle suddenly at the new meaning his old teaching has
acquired. I can feel his answering smile against my shoulder as
his tongue travels down my arm, exploring inside my elbow,
tasting my palm, lapping at my fingertips. The frustration
leaves me, the touch bringing contentment.
He suddenly gets more aggressive and draws his tongue down my
side to my hip, bathing my belly and inner thigh. Gooseflesh
appears swiftly as I react to the onslaught, at once chilling
and burning. Still, he refuses to taste me where I want,
continuing his journey down my legs around to the backs of my
knees, then my insteps and toes.
"Ah..Qui!....tease..." I accuse, in between moments of
incoherent moaning.
"You wish me to tease you more? Certainly."
"No!"
Too late. Damn the man! With some difficulty I regain some
control over myself. It's not easy as he delicately licks
between my toes, causing yelps of laughter/pain to leave my
lips. I really wish I weren't ticklish there....
Finally he leaves my toes alone. I can hear him searching for
another riddle to tantalize me with. I start to hope this
doesn't continue too much longer. While I prefer more energetic
endeavors, as a Jedi I can appreciate the lessons in patience
slow, tortuous sex provides. Just not today....
The next few objects are easy enough to name. I've been
bleeding some of my lust and anticipation into the Force to
remain less affected than normal. That'll show you, Oh Great
Jedi Master of Torture.
"Shina flowers."
"*moan* ...lips..."
"Fur...*gasp*"
"Ssss! Not the hot wax...!"
"Hmmm....your sash?"
I hear a "hmph" from him as he stops tickling my nose with the
garment. His weight leaves the bed, and his footsteps retreat
to the common room. A few minutes pass. I wonder what he's
getting now?
Finally he returns with whatever treasure he's unearthed. The
moving of the bed warns me of his approach with --
"*!* ...what...!?"
"That's for me to know and you to guess. Now concentrate."
Concentrate? When my nerves are all afire and my breathing
comes in ragged gasps? He runs the...object?...lightly over the
length of my cock, giving the barest flicker of a touch at the
tip. And again. My control is slipping, badly. Qui, stop
torturing me!
It's not his tongue, but...tongue-like? Maybe a synthetic
model? No....Force, it's getting hard to think at all. It's
getting hard, so hard. I bite my tongue in a last ditch effort
not to scream in frustration as that wildly erotic touch
continues stroking me, bringing me almost to the brink, but
never...quite....
A noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh comes from my
lover. My alarm bells go off, distracting me momentarily. He's
up to something....
I feel "something" being placed on my belly. A something which
starts to...crawl?? Wha--!!
Immediately many lights click on in my brain as I grab the
creature between my thumb and finger and, still blindfolded,
shake it accusingly at him, spluttering my outrage.
"You...you used a...Force!...an Alderaanian Tuber Grub
for...for...Qui-Gon!"
His howls of laughter do nothing for my mood. I wait while he
calms down somewhat, rapidly running suitable revenge scenarios
through my head to pass the time. Master Yoda never mentioned
that weird sex aids could lead to the Dark Side.
"Ah, love, I had no idea you were so--"
"I HATE grubs!!" Well, ok, that is overstating the fact. But
the thought of him using one of those creatures to stroke my
penis makes me want to vomit. Or orgasm. Or both.... The man
can be positively infuriating.
Tears were still streaming down his face. "I'm disappointed,
Obi-Wan. Master Gallia assured me that the experience would be
well worth any squeamishness." He sighs in mock dismay, taking
the grub from my hand. "Ah, well, she did say it would only
work once...back into the terrarium with you, little one."
Still chuckling over my discomfiture, he returns to the common
room, taking the grub with him.
I remove the blindfold. Enough of patience. He returns shortly,
only to find himself Force-thrown onto the bed. He starts to
get up, then sees me without the blindfold. He frowns.
"Obi-Wan, the blind--"
With a growl I grab him by the hair and pull him in for a hard
kiss. Releasing him, I lock my gaze with his.
"Let's try THIS game, Master," I hiss silkily. My teeth clamp
hard on his neck, sending us sprawling onto the bed. His moans
become almost howls as I mark him, making my own passion spiral
out of control.
You. Are. Mine.
He does not submit gracefully. Frustration fuels my aggression.
I can almost taste the blood pounding through his jugular under
my lips. My thoughts become feral, wondering idly what it would
be like to break the skin, letting that warm blood flow....
I find myself flipped onto my back. Trying to turn the tables,
are you, lover? Not tonight....I continue the motion he
started, pulling him with me and up over my head onto the
floor. I land ungently on top of his chest, pushing the air out
of his lungs momentarily. That's all the distraction I need
while I slide my hips down over his groin, using one knee to
spread his legs.
He suddenly acquiesces, pulling me down for a long, deep kiss,
wrapping his legs around my waist. Depths of feeling stir
within me, calming in part the frantic nature of my seduction.
My lust deepens into something more, still wild and rough but
bright with love and joy for all that. Somewhat more gently, I
feel my way into his opening, sensing the slickness of oil on
skin.
Ah, already prepared, my Qui-Gon? Such a consummate Jedi you
are. I waste no time on preliminaries and thrust myself into
him. My nerve endings explode as he arches into me, crying out
his pleasure. My vision is fire, my breath a searing touch
against his shoulder. My mouth fastens onto his nipple, sucking
as if my life depended on it.
Maybe it does. How could I live without this wondrous man in my
life?
All thought ends as my being erupts into pure light. A moment
later he joins me, two souls merging into one supernova. One
with each other. One with the Force. The feeling is
indescribable.
There is no death.... I think I understand now what that means.
Slowly we return to normal consciousness. Our love and
contentment wash over each other as we cling together, waiting
for our breathing to return to normal. I feel both blessed and
humbled by the power of his feelings for me. I can only hope I
return them just as strongly; it is my only way to thank him.
After long moments I ease my weight off of him and start to
pull away slightly. I hear a small, sharp intake of breath,
which brings my gaze to his face. I look at him with concern.
"Qui-Gon..,." I ask, "Are you alright?"
The lazy, sated smile he gives me melts away any apprehension I
feel. I smile in relief.
"Just a small discomfort, love."
"You really shouldn't tease me like that." I kiss him gently
and nibble at his neck, wincing at the mark I had left there
earlier. He strokes my arm reassuringly.
"And YOU know I prefer you being, shall we say...energetic."
Energetic. The master of understatement. I grin, cocking my
head at him. "You could have just asked."
"Ah, but what fun would THAT have been?"
A surprised bark of laughter leaves my lips. I shake my head in
exasperation and tenderness. And he calls *me* an imp....Still
smiling, we climb back up onto the bed and nuzzle in a
comforting embrace. Soft kisses on my eyelids, savoured and
returned. I do so love you, Qui-Gon Jinn.
Archive 