DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
“Well,” Obi-Wan pants into your ear, “I think I have passed most of your tests.” He gives you a big Cheshire cat grin. “Unless you have devised more….but I am sure I will prove equally successful.”
You press your sticky body up against his and nibble at his neck. “I’m very happy for you that you have proven your trademark Jedi control,” you say sarcastically. “But I’ve been waiting all night for you to REALLY lose it.”
He chuckles and holds your head to the pillow, sliding his tongue into your mouth and sucking earnestly on your lips before coming up for air and saying, “I believe I did lose control…. A number of times as you recall.” A sly grin forms on his face. “And I must say, your endurance is quite impressive.”
“Making up for lost time,” you say. “But my point is….” Not knowing quite how to say it, you just nervously shake your head and say, “Never mind.”
“What is it?” he asks, his voice soft.
“Nothing,” you say, patting him on the cheek.
“Tell me.”
You smile and say, “Not important. Forget I mentioned it.”
“Sorry,” he says. “I know that brooding mind of yours too well.”
“I’m not brooding,” you say. You tap your finger to your temple. “Most definitely no broodage here. Just happy thoughts.”
He smiles and says, “That’s a relief.”
“See,” you say, attempting to roll to your side. “Now I think we need sleep.”
He traps you on your back. “What did you mean by waiting for me lose control?”
“Post-coital babbling. It didn’t mean anything. You’ve left me completely unable to form coherent thoughts.”
He rests his head gently against your forehead. “Tell me what you want.”
His eyes are too close, so you attempt to shift away from his gaze. You haven’t needed – or wanted – to ask him for anything. You feel your cheeks flush.
He smiles sweetly at your nervousness. “I shall leave no fantasy unfulfilled.”
“I thought you were tired of being fantasy guy.”
He makes a quiet “mmmm” noise and kisses you tenderly. “Not with you.” His lips trace your jawline. “I want to give you what you want.” You feel him smile against your neck as he purrs, “I want to make you scream.”
You laugh and say, “Mission accomplished.”
“And then some,” he responds with a chuckle as he nibbles lightly on your neck. “It’s a good thing your room is at the very end of the hallway.”
Still laughing, you say, “Well, the walls are pretty soundproof. We tested it one night.”
His head pops up, “Excuse me?”
You laugh harder. “We’re so stupid.”
“Who’s we?”
“Kim and I.”
“What?” he asks through his chuckles.
“We were doing a story on the JH building for the magazine.” You feel hysterics coming on and take a deep breath. “So we….” You laugh out loud again. “Oh God,” you sigh, wiping a tear from your eye.
“I’m almost afraid to hear this,” he says.
“So we went into her room. I have this CD that has all these sex noises on it….”
Obi-Wan’s head flops down to the pillow, and he laughs into your hair. “I don’t believe this.”
“I got it out of a magazine. I used to have this upstairs neighbor – when I lived alone – and she would go on and on all night. I called her Orgasma.” You stop to breathe as his body vibrates with laughter against you. “I got really sick of listening to her. Never heard the guy much, so I figured she was faking it. So I’m looking through this magazine one night, and in the ads I see this CD. I ordered it, and then every time she’d start in, I’d put the CD on really loud and turn the speakers toward the ceiling.”
He raises his head and says enthusiastically, “You are the strangest person I have ever met.”
You smile and nod your head. “So anyway, we played the CD in Kim’s room, and I would wander the halls and adjacent rooms to see if I could hear it. We had to turn it up surprisingly loud before it could be heard.” Then you laugh. “Of course Kim and I were having hysterical seizures by the time the experiment was over.”
“I can imagine,” he chuckles.
“The guy…” your voice squeals as you laugh, “…he sounds like a friggin’ Bantha in heat. It’s like a really bad porno flick.”
Obi-Wan sighs. “And here I thought you were an innocent lass.”
“Oh please,” you say sarcastically, grabbing his braid and pulling him down into a kiss. You whimper softly as your body heats up, amazed that you could be so eager for him again. So you won’t be able to walk for a week. Small price to pay.
His arms slide under your back, and he pulls you up with him as he rises to his knees. You wrap your legs around him and can feel his arousal growing against your tender flesh.
He gently sucks your earlobe and whispers in a husky voice, “Tell me what you want.”
“I….” You whine quietly as you feel the intensity of his desire wrapping around you.
“Show me,” he whispers.
You know you are safe here. You close your eyes and send him the thought that hides in the place where the shy girl doesn’t dare go. You hear his breath hitch in his lungs and feel his erection twitch against your rear. You open your eyes and whisper, “Stop being such a gentleman…”
His mouth hangs open as he inhales. “But—“
“…for now,” you add. You grin slightly. “Lose control….” You loosen your legs and drop down to the mattress. “….and act on instinct.”
He emits a soft groan and then lunges at you, grabbing you at the waist and roughly flipping you over onto your knees. His fingers slide over the curve of your rump, and two long digits slip inside you. You gasp as your over-sensitized flesh contracts around his fingers, but your body shivers as he moves them inside you.
You feel lips sucking at your back, and he says, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
You stretch your arms out and up, grabbing the top of the headboard, causing your body to form a long downward curve as your ass rises in the air. You glance over your shoulder at his somewhat astonished face and say, “Take me. Hard.”
The mattress bounces beneath you, and you feel his fingers slide out, his hands roughly grabbing your hips. Then you feel your body gloriously split apart as his cock plunges into you. You spread your legs wider with a groan, pushing back to meet his thrusts. Tiny stabs of pain give way to breathtaking pleasure as your desire begins to flow.
The headboard crashes into the wall as he throws his torso forward, his hands gripping the board on either side of your hands. He moves one hand for a moment to swing your hair to the left, freeing your face as your turn your head to the right. He rubs his damp forehead against your temple, releasing heavy, raspy breaths against your cheek as he thrusts into you.
His chest is hot and slick as it slides against your back, his scent triggering your most primitive instinct. “Harder,” you croak, your throat dry. “Fuck me harder.”
He grunts and pulls his torso up, still gripping the headboard. His hips shift up, and you cry as his cock thrusts upward, roughly sliding against your clit as he angles to hit the deepest point inside you.
The force of his thrusts nearly raises your knees off the mattress. And you are shocked at yourself as, “Harder,” tumbles out of your mouth again.
He growls in response and lets go of the headboard. His hands grab your inner thighs as he raises himself upright. He spreads your legs apart, driving into you with fury. You hang onto the headboard for dear life and look over your shoulder. His eyes are wild, his face beautifully reckless as he uncontrollably grunts with each thrust.
You turn your head and rest it against your shaky, damp arm as your muscles begin to clench around him.
“Oh yeah,” he growls, never slowing his pace. “I’ll make you come hard.”
You moan at his words. He sounds possessed, his tone dangerous and captivating. Your body starts to tremble. “Please,” you say in a staggered whisper. All you hear is another growl and the slippery sound of his cock fucking you senseless. Your moans descend deep into your chest as your strain your hips further back.
Thought giving way to instinct, you release one hand from the headboard. You grab his right hand from its grip on your thigh and swiftly rush it to your center, guiding his index and middle finger over you clit. He lets out a stuttered groan as you show him how to touch you, circling his fingers faster and faster.
His groans continue, growing louder and louder, his hand gripping your thigh tighter. He calls your name as he explodes inside you. You squeeze his hand, and his fingers stroke you faster as he continues to pump his orgasm. You cry out as your body releases, your hand slipping from the headboard as you thrash against him. His arm catches you around the waist, pulling you up and back. You smack against his chest, your head falling to his shoulder, your hips popping forward as his fingers stroke the last waves of your climax out of you.
You slide your wet fingers between his and pull his hand away as you flinch from over-stimulation. He gently pushes you forward and slides out of you. You crawl on shaky limbs up to your pillow and collapse. He follows closely behind, spooning his body against yours. His chest heaves against your back, his sticky fingers lacing around yours again.
“So how will you explain my death to Qui-Gon?” he asks against your shoulder.
“I’m sure he’ll take pity on me since I’ll be spending the rest of my life in a wheelchair,” you say.
He nuzzles into you with a happy noise. “Anymore fantasies you want to share with me?”
“Um…no, I think I’m quite sated for the next several hours, at least,” you say.
He chuckles. “I should hope so.”
“Go to sleep,” you mumble.
“Mmm-hmm,” he sighs drowsily.
You awaken quite late the following morning. You stretch your body and feel every well-earned ache from the night’s activities. Obi-Wan stirs and snuggles against you.
“Good morning,” he says in your ear.”
“Morning,” you sigh.
His hand runs down your arm, his fingers finding your wrist. “Ah, she still has a pulse.”
You laugh and roll to your back. “And yourself?”
His eyes dart back and forth. “Everything seems to be in working order…mostly,” he says with a grin.
You chuckle. “Yeah, I think we should try walking as a first step to recovery.”
“Ladies first,” he says.
You sit up and swat his butt and then swing your legs over the side of the bed. You slowly stand with a groan and walk to the closet to get your robe.
“She walks. It’s a miracle,” Obi-Wan says enthusiastically.
You stick your tongue out at him. “Brat.” He gives you a who-me? look as you wrap your robe around yourself. You walk to the window and peek out. “Holy schmoly, the sun’s out.”
“We have a sun?” Obi-Wan asks with exaggerated shock.
“Well, let me put it this way,” you say. “It’s not raining, and there’s a brighter than normal tint to the smog.” You turn to him. “Breakfast in the garden?”
“Sounds perfect. What are you making?”
You smirk. “Heard of bread? It’s kind of a new thing.”
“Now who’s the brat?”
“You take the bread, see, and put it in this contraption called a toaster. And then you put jelly on it…. Although I s’pose you’re probably not a big jelly fan these days.” You dodge a pillow as it launches toward you, Obi-Wan sitting with his arms crossed and giving you a pout. You scurry over to the bed, kissing his forehead and rubbing his head. “Oh, poor widdle pooky,” you say.
He raises an eyebrow at you. “There you go again. More bizarre names.”
You plunk down on the side of the bed. “Aw, you don’t like pooky?” you say in a high-pitched voice. “Well, how about Obi-Wobi, my shnuggle wuggums?” you squeak, pinching his cheeks.
He pulls your pinching fingers away and gives you a crazy look while he shakes his head.
“You’re no fun at all,” you say.
“I’m sorry. I’m just no good at this game,” he says.
“What game?”
“This silly name game.”
“It’s not a silly name game.” You put on a really bad fake French accent and say, “Eet eez zeh languazh of luuuve.”
He raises both eyebrows at you and says, “Qui-Gon, for instance, calls every woman ‘little one’, and it makes me cringe.”
You smack his chest. “Are you high?”
“Stop. It just seems so…so patronizing,” he snorts.
“What would you have him call them? ‘Hey, c’mere fat ass!’ Or how about, ‘Sling that meat my way, big heifer mama!’”
“No, of course not,” he says rather disgustedly. “But little one?”
You lightly knock on his forehead. “Hello, McFly! He’s a big man. Everyone is little next to him. Duh.”
“Yes, but—“
“Has he ever shown disrespect to any woman?”
“No,” he grumbles.
“So what’s the problem?”
“Well, he…. He just says it. Just like that. It…. It doesn’t feel natural to me,” he says.
“Honey, listen—“
“See, you did it again,” he says. “And I’m no good at it. If I called you ‘honey’, it would sound ridiculous.”
“Pphhh…Obi-Wan! No, it wouldn’t,” you say in an exasperated tone. “Go ahead, call me ‘honey’.”
He scrunches his face. “Well, I can’t do it now. It wouldn’t sound right.” He sighs.
“Oh brother. Listen, you don’t have to use a nickname,” you say.
“But you have names for everyone…and several for me. And I can’t even think of one,” he says.
“You are thinking about this way too much. Because….” You crawl up on the bed and straddle his legs. “I seem to recall you calling me ‘baby’ in the throes of passion…..and ‘angel’, too. Talk about turning a girl into a puddle.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. Big time swoonage there.”
He grins for a moment and then says, “Oh, but I can’t call you those names all the time. A baby is….is a baby, a child. And an angel is—“
“Fine,” you say, putting up your hand. “Just trying to help. While you’re being all neurotic, I’m going to take a shower.”
“Oh,” he says. “Want some company?”
“Sure,” you say, getting up from the bed. “But you have to keep your wanger to yourself….for a few hours anyway.”
“Wanger,” he says. “It’s not giving me….swoonage, I believe was the term you used.”
“Well, what do you want me to call it, ‘Mister Happy’?”
Obi-Wan stands from the bed and looks down. “I think ‘Mister Sleepy’ would be more appropriate.”
You snort. “Well c’mon, my hunka-hunka burnin’ love,” you say as you turn into the bathroom. “Time to get wet and slippery.”
“But he could be convinced to awaken,” Obi-Wan says.
You laugh as you step under the hot water. “I wouldn’t survive it. And then you’d have to go to jail FOREVER.” You rinse your hair back as he steps into the shower.
“Oh, alright,” he says. “I’ll just have to kiss you senseless then.” He leans in and kisses you softly, but quite thoroughly. He picks you up as he kisses you and slowly turns you around.
Once your feet are firmly back on the tub floor, you realize what he has done. You pull away from him and say, “Hey! You stole the water!”
“Mmm-hmm,” he nods and bends his head back under the water.
“Oh fine,” you say, reaching for the shampoo. You hand him the bottle and say, “Make it quick.”
He pops open the lid and sniffs it. “Smells like a girl.”
You turn and grab the tube of very perfumey body wash that you never use, but that just clutters up the shelf, and squirt it all over him. “There, now you smell like a girl.”
He wrinkles his nose when the too-sweet scent hits him. He quickly rinses his hair and jumps around to bat the gel off his chest and arms before it turns to lather.
You grab the shampoo bottle from him and shimmy around him to get under the water. “Wow, that stuff really stinks,” you say.
“Thank you very much,” he says, smelling his forearm and making a yucky face.
“Regular soap is there,” you say. You suppress your laughter as you watch him scrub himself down like he’s just been exposed to a deadly virus. You proceed to wash your hair, stepping aside to let him rinse off the half bar of soap he used. He steps back behind you as you lather up your hair.
“Ah,” he says.
You look over your shoulder to see him wiping shampoo off his cheek. “Sorry,” you say. “I forgot about the fling factor. I don’t usually share this space.”
“Well, I’d better help you before I lose an eye,” he says with a smile.
You sigh as his fingers plunge into your hair, rubbing your scalp and the base of your skull for several minutes. You stand contentedly as he gently runs his fingers down the length of your hair.
“It’s so heavy,” he says.
“Hmm?”
“Your hair. It’s heavy,” he says softly.
“It’s wet,” you say, smiling at his odd observation.
“Hmm,” is his response as he guides you to turn around to rinse. He ducks as the shampoo sprays in various directions when the water hits your head.
“Umm, perhaps I will leave you to finish on your own,” he says.
You chuckle. “Alright. I’ll be out in a few.”
When you shut the water off, he suddenly appears, clad only in his trousers, with your robe. You wrap a towel around your hair and grab another one to dry off with. He holds your robe out for you to slip your arms in. You tie it around yourself and pull the towel off your head, squeezing out the excess moisture. You grab a comb and raise it to your head.
“Can I do that?” he asks.
“Um…sure,” you say, handing him the comb.
He tentatively pulls the comb through your hair, flinching every time it catches and apologizing.
“Just rip right through it,” you say. “I have a tough head.” He smiles but continues to go very slowly. You grab your lotion and say, “Let’s go sit on the bed.”
You sit on the edge of the bed and lotion up your legs as he sits behind you and combs your hair. He continues to comb it for quite a while even though you can tell he has removed all the tangles. “Uh, you almost done there?” you finally ask.
“Yes,” he says as the comb continues to glide through your hair. He finally sets it down and runs his hands under and over your hair a couple times. Then he kisses the back of your head and swings around to kneel in front of you. He unties your robe and slides it off your shoulders. You pull your arms out and reach forward to touch his face.
“I want to keep you in my mind just like this,” he says, kissing your hand.
“Please don’t,” you say with an embarrassed laugh.
He reaches up to run his finger across your cheek. “Too late,” he says with a smile.
“Well, suit yourself,” you say. “It’s your crazy daydream.” You pat your tummy. “Just make this part flatter, OK?”
He leans in and plants a solid kiss on your belly as you laugh. He looks down and gasps. You look and see the bruise on your inner thigh. You nod and say, “Yeah, I have love bruises. Cool, huh?”
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
“Don’t be. I bruise very easily. And I’m very proud of this one,” you say with a grin.
He gives you an unconvincing smile and lightly rubs the injured skin with his fingers. As he does so, he accidentally brushes against your center with the back of his hand. You reflexively pull your hips back.”
He looks up at you with concerned eyes. “I hurt you last night.”
“Oh,” you sigh, sliding your hand across his cheeks, “of course not.” You feel his thumb tentatively touch you, and you tense a little.
“I did,” he says.
“No, you didn’t. I’m just a little sore, but in a very, very good way.”
“You promise?”
You take his chin in your hand. “Listen to me. You are the only man I have ever wanted to so enthusiastically bed. Last night certainly established an all-time record for me, so don’t get wiggy on me now that the tramp is loosed.”
His worried face breaks into a smile, and he pulls your head down and kisses you.
“Besides,” you say, “if you think this bruise is bad, you should get a load of your back.”
“Yes, I noticed that while I was getting dressed,” he says with a smirk.
“Hmm…. You don’t look dressed,” you say, eyeing his bare chest.
“Neither do you,” he says. He leans down and tenderly kisses your bruised skin. He spreads your legs slightly and places a soft kiss on your curls.
“Obi-Wan, I don’t think I’m up to this.”
His eyes look up. “Trust me,” he whispers. “Please. Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop.” He looks back down and oh-so-gently kisses your bundle of overwrought nerves. His eyes shoot back up to you. “Alright?”
“Yes,” you whisper.
His eyes fall back down, and his tongue caresses your clit so lightly, so tenderly, it literally takes your breath away. His tongue soothes you as it glides slowly around the sensitive nub. You sigh and lean back on your hands as he reverently persuades you to arousal. Equally careful fingers dance up and across your breasts, and you close your eyes to savor the warmth that fills your body and soul.
You whimper as waves of the sweetest orgasm gently roll through you. Your heart flutters as his tongue carefully takes you through and over the crest of your climax. He removes his tongue just as the pleasure ends and before any discomfort can begin.
You pull him into an embrace, inhaling the scent of his clean skin and enjoying the feel of his smooth, warm back. He rises up and kisses you, and you try to pour al the tenderness into him that he’s given to you.
Then you whisper against his lips, “Now you really smell like a girl.”
He chuckles and kisses you again. “But not just any girl,” he says. “My girl.”
“You see,” you say. “You just did it.”
“Did what?”
“Used a nickname on me.”
He wrinkles his brow. “I can’t call you ‘my girl’ in normal conversation.”
“Oh, yes you can,” you say with a grin. You stand up and walk to the dresser. You put on your undergarments and say, “Darlin’, it’s not a privilege I’d afford to any man. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever let any man refer to me as his girl. I suggest you not pass up the opportunity.” You reach into your closet and pull a loose, long, heavy knit shirt over your head. You grab some leggings out of your dresser and sit on the bed to put them on.
After thinking a while getting dressed, Obi-Wan says, “I can’t call you ‘my girl’ on a regular basis.”
“Fine, don’t,” you say. “Stop angsting over this, will ya?”
He gets on his knees in front of you. “Listen, love, it’s not that I don’t….” He stops talking when you begin to laugh.
“You did it again.”
“What?”
“You called me ‘love’. Just like that, it rolled off your tongue.”
His eyes get big. “I did call you ‘love’, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” you say, nodding. “Congratulations.”
“Hmmm…. I rather like that, actually,” he says.
You pat him on the shoulder and get up to find your shoes. “Good job, shnuggle wuggums.”
As soon as your shoes are on and you straighten up, he grabs you around the waist and lifts you until your eyes meet, your feet dangling above the floor. “Alright, love, ready to eat?” he says.
You smile and nod enthusiastically.
“Yes,” he says quite proudly. “I think I can call you ‘love’.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “My love.”
Your insides quiver. "And mine." You brush the tip of your nose against his. “OK, Pooky, let's go.”
“Um,” he says, still holding you up quite effortlessly. “Could we go back to that bit about burning love?”
You giggle, “Oh, my hunka-hunka?”
“Yes, that’s the one,” he says as he begins to walk forward, still carrying you.
“Or would you prefer lover boy, big stud, or raging inferno of manmeat?”
He smiles and says, “Did I mention that you are the strangest person I have ever met?”
“Yes, I believe we’ve covered that already.” As he steps into the elevator, still holding you aloft, you say, “Um…you can put me down now if you want.”
“I don’t want to, actually,” he says. “Do you mind?”
“Oh no…no. Just thought you might be getting tired.”
He grins. “I’ll show you something.” He takes his arms away, and you prepare to drop to the floor…but you don’t. He steps back and you remain in mid-air.
You squeak at your sudden disorientation and reach out to him. “Neat trick,” you say nervously.
“But I prefer it like this,” he says, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you.
“Me, too.”
“Can I take you out and buy you breakfast…or lunch, or whatever time it is?”
“Sure thing, Jedi Man. Maybe I should change, though. I’ve kinda got a slacker bit going on here.”
The elevator door opens. “You look beautiful,” he says, carrying your out of the elevator as you wave to sibs in the hall. “Besides, I want to make sure you eat well before I leave since you’ll probably starve yourself out of grief while I’m gone.”
“Um, that’d be more like gorging myself on cookies and ice cream,” you say. “So you’d better not be gone too long, or I won’t be your love anymore.”
His forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll be your love lump,” you say, emphasizing the last word. “So you’d better hurry back.”
He finally sets you down in the foyer. “It may be a little while. I just want you to know that.”
You nod. “I gathered that from your….enthusiasm last night.”
He smiles and says, “But today is yours as well. Until this evening.”
“And then they get you back,” you say.
He nods and leans down to look in your eyes. “But you will stay here,” he says placing your hand over his heart.
You feel your emotion flood your eyes. You reach up and pull his head down, kissing his forehead and his temple. “I’m not clingy, I’m not,” you chuckle, somewhat embarrassed. “I can let go, really I can. Highly independent, that’s me,” you assert as you sniffle.
He smiles and kisses you sweetly. “But when I return—“
“You will still belong to them. I know that. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
“Alright,” he says quietly. “But right now I belong to you.”
“Darn tootin’ ya do,” you say, grabbing his chin. “So take me out and let me make a shameless pig of myself.”
He laughs and opens the front door. “Lead the way.”
He puts his arm around your shoulders as you walk down the sidewalk. “When I return after my long, arduous mission, you can take me to the circus.” You groan and he continues. “With acrobats and animals and CLOWNS and—“
“La-La-La-La,” you say as you plug your ears.
He pulls your hands away, and purrs into your ear, “How about if I call you….baby.” The word is low and deep in his throat.
You swallow hard as the little shiver recedes. You then give him a sideways glance. “How about if I just cover your entire body with thick, warm chocolate sauce,” you say, enunciating each word.
The tips of his ears turn red. He grins and says, “And then?”
You dart your eyebrows up. “Guess you’ll have to come home to find out.”
“Guess so,” he says, pulling you close and kissing you. Then he grabs your hand and walks quickly toward the café on the corner. “But if we hurry, maybe we can fit it in before I go.”
“Silly Jedi,” you laugh as you scamper along behind him.