Handshake

by Lyta Alexander, a.k.a. the Pink Padawan (pinkpadawan@yahoo.com)

Summary: An answer to Megan's first line challenge "Obi-Wan, not everyone wants to have sex with you."

Rating: NC-17, of course! Seems to be my favorite rating these days!

Category: PWP, Humor

Archive: If you really want to...

Disclaimer: Force help me , George, it's an addiction, not an enterprise! No money is gained by me or anyone else from this bit of silliness! So don't sue me!

Warning: This is totally un-beta-ed and was written whilst in the the midst of fighting off another bunny, so (John Wayne voice) "go easy on it!"

"Obi-Wan, not everyone wants to have sex with you!" Qui-Gon sat patiently on the bed, his datapad in hand. He crossed his legs slowly and sat back, a long-suffering expression playing at the corners of his mouth and eyes.

"I know, Master." Obi-Wan breathed resignedly, and continued stripping out of his workout tunics. Belt first, clattered to the floor unceremoniously. A heavy sigh accompanied it, as Obi-Wan continued to peel layers from his sweat-soaked body.

"Why you thought Master Grattingplomb was making a play for you, I don't know. I think you embarrassed the old man. He turned purple as a lingonberry when you kissed him."

"But, Master, he grabbed me and thrust his hands between my legs...over and over! What would YOU call it?" Obi-Wan had peeled out of the wet sash and his tunic fell open. He impatiently tore it off and tossed it to the ground to join the other castoffs in a growing heap.

" The Humpalots have strange cultural greetings and signals among their kind. I think it is a form of praise or at least acknowledgment. You did do awfully well at that Level Six kata he observed."

"Yes, Master. Well enough that Master Grattingplomb took it upon himself to reward me with an impromptu hand job for my efforts? " Obi-Wan tripped as he attempted to step out of his clinging leggings. He fell gracelessly at Qui-Gon's feet and lay still for a long moment before raising up on his hands and knees to face his master.

Qui-Gon found that he had dropped his datapad unceremoniously on the bed and was piercing his sprawled naked padawan with a gaze that spoke of pure lust. He bent to lift Obi-Wan and found himself sinking to the floor instead, being quickly stripped by a sweating, hungry-eyed padawan.

"He got me very close, master, but not close enough. " Obi-Wan was panting with exertion and arousal as he tore at Qui-Gon's clothing. Qui-Gon suddenly pulled Obi-Wan against him, ending his futile struggles with the clasps and ties of the Jedi uniform.

Obi-Wan plunged into his master's mouth, clawing his arms around him, pressing his aching erection against Qui-Gon's warm tunics. "Please, Master! Take off your clothing and end my suffering! I think Master Grattingplomb meant to torture me!"

"Stand up, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon insisted in a husky voice. "I'll show you how a Humpalot greeting is done."

Obi-Wan gathered himself and dragged himself shakily to a standing position. Qui-Gon stood in front of his padawan and extended his arms to him formally. Obi-Wan found himself breathing faster, thinking of what came next.

Qui-Gon advanced and wrapped his left arm around Obi-Wan's firm waist, pulling him close. His right hand thrust rhythmically between Obi-Wan's legs, moving up and down, almost grasping his erect member, teasing around it until he could no longer contain his panting breaths. Suddenly, Qui-Gon squeezed his padawan's penis in one firm gesture, like a handshake Obi-Wan thought for a split second before the shock hit him. All the teasing sensations rocked into a crashing wave, which spurted out of him all at once, instantly draining him. He collapsed slowly at his master's feet, shaking and gasping for air.

Qui-Gon stood over him, hard as a rock, his eyes fixed in a mask of unadulterated lust. He managed to huskily whisper, "That's the correct response, my padawan. You learn quickly."

"Yes, Master. I think I'm ready to return your kind greeting." Obi-Wan breathed and rose to his knees. "But I don't think I can do it standing up."

He knelt at eye level with Qui-Gon's impressively erect cock staring him in the face, and he began to slowly stroke his master's inner thighs, his perineum, every part of him that was close to his genitals but not quite there. Qui-Gon stood still, his only movement that of gentle hands in his padawan's hair and his own softly trembling body.

Obi-Wan drew small pictures with his light fingertips on Qui-Gon's testicles and on his lower abdomen. He traced the twining strands of a padawan braid around the base of Qui-Gon's penis using only the barest tip of his finger. When he grabbed the bulging organ fully and firmly, Qui-Gon cried out in surprise, and the tendrils of pleasure came together, exploding within him. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees, meeting level with his padawan's intense blue-grey eyes. Separate intensities met and intertwined in their locked gazes as Qui-Gon let off the waves of pulsing sensation. Obi-Wan watched him, rapt with the beauty of his master under the spell of ecstasy.

The two Jedi lay sprawled on the floor for many minutes, until Obi-Wan finally stirred and regarded his lounging master. " You're right, Master. Not everyone wants to have sex with me. Some just want to shake my hand."