Archive: OK to SWAL and Master/Apprentice; all others, please
ask.
Disclaimer: Lucas owns 'em, darn it. I use them. Lots.
Feedback: Yes, please! On-list or privately, detailed or short - your
feedback is all that keeps these stories coming, and is appreciated.
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Series: This totally smutty little vignette is for fun (but you
can throw it into the middle of my series if you want).
Spoilers: None
Summary: Qui-Gon teaches his Padawan a new skill.
"I...I can't..." Obi-Wan gasped. He was being raised, moving too swiftly but nearly fast enough, and the relentless pressure of his Master's mouth was an incessant luxury he suffered gladly.
Qui-Gon ran his tongue lightly around the head of Obi-Wan's cock. "Try," he hissed, his lips forming an open circle around his Padawan's most urgent need, strangling him with wantonness.
Obi-Wan knew his Master was speaking, but the words resonated across the desperate urgency of his lust, driving him half insane. Head thrown back over the gathered sheets at the end of the bed, Obi-Wan attempted the artistry his Master demanded. His exposed soul was on fire with his Master's touch, as those large sensual hands wandered purposefully, merciless in their furious, fevered exploration.
"Master!" The word was torn from the young apprentice, whose breathing ceased for a long moment, then resumed, tortured and ragged. "Please..."
"Obi-Wan." The sound of his own name, spoken with exquisite softness by the man who caressed him so intimately, threw Obi-Wan into even greater overload. Those lips stopped their motion but a moment, enough for the apprentice to reach out selfishly. Qui-Gon caught his hands and grated, "Try, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan drowned in pleasure, his senses a mass of impulse and decadence. Even as Qui-Gon's fingers explored all of his body with fleeting strokes, Obi-Wan struggled to focus his mind. His Master's thoughts intruded without reserve, shredding what remained of self-restraint, even as that ardent, appreciative mouth moved on him, sucking and nibbling. Qui-Gon lowered all barriers in anticipation.
A subtle change in position and Qui-Gon was above him, filling his field of vision, and inside him, inside his mind, and his body. Glittering embers of deep fulfillment cascaded through Obi-Wan's mental buffers, shattering his inhibitions like rainbow glass. He was completed, enraptured, utterly incapable of conscious thought. His mind's eye exploded outward, rushing toward the magnet which drew it, faster and faster...
...and he was seeing, he was feeling himself through his Master's eyes...
...the stark beauty of rippled, muscled flesh, the open mouth, the delicate throat, the soft gasping sighs of happiness, the rapid heartbeat which threatened to pound out of his chest, and the deliberate, gradual assault of his body, taking possession, and the warmth, the heat, the soft liquid melting of his soul, his spirit. His reason for being was here, so ready, so certain, in control and urging him on...the hard length of desire against his belly, the unbearable friction of ecstasy just out of reach, the soft pulling and tight confinement of his lust, which absorbed his will...
...and an incredible, all-encompassing, sharply defined love, so powerful in its aching need that there was no way to hide from it...
Obi-Wan cried his Master's name, his body suspended in mid-air, a thousand nerves firing at once, a symphony of noise and touch and sensation and color and light, bursting and cresting over waves of shock and helplessness. He felt his Master's essence within him, and his journey was complete in the circle of Qui-Gon's arms. They fell together through the brilliant shards of Obi-Wan's last grasp at innocence.
"Now do you see, Padawan?" a voice whispered softly in his ear, sending quakes vibrating through him.
"I see, Master," came the shaken reply. "I see everything."