The fragrance carried on the breeze. Here in the
richly-appointed bungalow, Obi-Wan sat cross-legged on the bed
and breathed in the wondrous scents. His homeworld was always
redolent with sensory delights, and this world reminded him of
his planet of birth.
His closed eyes brought him to a world of sensation. His hands
brushed lightly against the homespun texture of his tunic. He
could feel the warm breezes caress his skin.
Suddenly, a familiar scent. Warm hands slipping into his tunic,
caressing his chest. He took a deep breath. A mouth covered
his, hot tongue sliding inside.
The sound of the nearby ocean was drowned in his breathing as
his beloved Qui-Gon gently lowered him to the bed, covering his
body with his own. A vase of flowers on the dressing table
quivered in the breeze as soft moans began to drift out the
window toward the beach...
Archive 