Category: Sort of humor. Sort of not.
Disclaimer: George owns the boys and gets all the money. I own one sick
mind, a Volvo, this story, and four rats.
Notes: This is for Wolfine, who gave me the idea in the first place, and for
Holly, who thought I couldn't do it. Well, Holly, did I?
Pairing: Q/JJ (don't worry, Obi-Wan's in it, too)
Rating: R
Summary: Qui-Gon's tongue fetish gets him in a compromising
position.
I'm sure I showed no trace of what I was actually thinking when I seized JarJar's tongue between my thumb and forefinger. Obi-Wan had taken to calling the strays I picked up "pathetic life-forms", and I have to admit that in this case, he was correct. JarJar was pathetic.
But he had a wonderful tongue. I had to force myself not to caress it as I held it. It was muscular and firm and flexible, and I was certain he could do wonderful things with it.
Wonderful, wonderful things.
When we were finally headed to Coruscant, I found myself finding ways to be close to JarJar. Obi-Wan caught me staring longingly at the Gungun more than once--when I should have been paying attention to something else. After the third time, he sighed and said "It's the tongue thing again, isn't it?"
I blushed. "That obvious?"
"Master, you've been watching him and twitching your ass. The only other person you do that with is that weird tentacled guy whose name I can't pronounce."
"Xffffzeesizzzzzzzz," I replied, absently. "Hey! How do you know about him?"
"I have sources. You shouldn't hang out in space bars looking for kinky sex--those people all know me."
"How do you know about the space bars?"
Obi-Wan grinned. "Master, I hang out in them too. Mostly to keep you out of trouble these days, but also because I've got a kink or two myself."
"Really? What?"
"That would be telling." He stood up. "I'll move my stuff out of our cabin, Master. You'll want some privacy, won't you?"
"No, Obi-Wan, that won't be necess--"
"Oh, you're going to let me watch? Nope, that's not my kink, but good guess."
As he left the room, he spoke to JarJar too quietly for me to hear.
JarJar looked at me and licked his lips.
Hell.
I forgave Obi-Wan his meddling as soon as JarJar began licking my back that night. No, not licking: using his tongue as a massage device. What a great tongue he has, even if he is pathetic. And if he's clumsy, I want to meet a really skilled Gungun.
Once I was thoroughly relaxed, he flipped me over and wrapped his tongue around my cock. One advantage of a very long, very flexible tongue--it wrapped around almost five times and left the end free to stroke and tease.
"Yousa feelin good?" JarJar managed, around his tongue.
I lifted my head to look at him. "Yes. Do you want me to--"
"Uh-uh. Meesa like this."
"Mmmf."
The tip wandered close to my ass. "Mmmmmmf!" I said, and it smacked me sharply.
"Yousa like rimmin?"
"Yes."
And then he...
Oh.
I have got to get me a permanent Gungun.
Even Xffffzeesizzzzzzzz couldn't rim me and blow me at the same time.
I haven't come that hard since I was sixteen and first discovered tongues.
As JarJar and I settled down for a cuddle, I heard Obi-Wan through the thin walls. "Harder, R2, spank harder!"