Qui-Gon’s Journal – Sleepless Night
I dreamed of you last night. I don't know what caused it or why my mind has reduced itself to adolescence all over again. I thought I'd long since outgrown these sort of physical reactions and night urges. I was wrong.
I woke up in the early morning hours, hard and aching. In my dreams, I saw you standing in the tavern we visited tonight for our evening meal. You were serving me, pleasing me, teasing me with your body, but not allowing me to touch you. Maybe it was the wine we shared during our meal, or maybe it was the perfumed air that clung to you long after we left that seedy environment. Whatever it was, it set my imagination running wild. It left me feeling unrestrained and needy.
It was all I could do to keep my hands to myself when we reached our rooms. You were standing there waiting to take my cloak. I wanted to kiss you, taste you, plunder your mouth and leave you gasping. I envisioned myself taking you right there against the wall, but as soon as you reached out to me, I turned you away. I did not want my lust to taint your innocence. As much as you may want me, a physical relationship between us would be too much for you to bear.
You are still so young, just barely having reached manhood. I know you are independent and strong, but I am your master and teacher. Your Jedi instruction must be our priority for a while longer. To change this relationship into one of bonded lovers would crush you. You have so recently become Obi-Wan the man, self-suficient and confident. The boy who was desperate for my attention and praise still lurks in the wings. I love the boy, but he is too eager to please me regardless of the cost.
It is this transformation that makes you even more irresistible. I must be the strong one; I must resist. Logically my duty to you is clear, but it is just as hard for me to deprive you of my affection as it is for you to keep your desires in check.
Tonight I was too close to failing. I had to walk away and leave you confused at my abrupt departure. I will apologize tomorrow. I know you feel slighted and hurt. I did not even offer any parting remarks. I just ran away and left you standing there alone.
I returned to our rooms long after you had gone to bed. I slept fitfully and dreamed of you. I dreamed of doing all the things that you desire. However, it was my own private fantasy that woke me, aroused and needy.
I dreamed of you in the tavern, not as my friend, student, and companion, but as a slave boy. Manservant is a role that you occasionally fulfill as missions dictate, but never have you served me in the degree to which my mind imagined. I saw you serving me wine, feeding me cheese and dried meats by hand, and teasing me with your lithe body.
Oh, how you moved when you were dancing for me. Your face was flushed and a fine sheen of sweet coated your body. Your skin was as tan as it had been on Dantooine last season. The KilArian tavern was dark and smoky, but somehow I could see you clearly.
Your body undulated in time with the pulsing beat of the native drums that filled the air. Your eyes were locked with mine when I was not mesmerized by your scantily clad body. You wore black thigh high leather boots like a common brothel whore. Dressed in a loin wrap that granted you no modesty at all and a white, billowing peasant shirt so thin it was almost transparent, you danced.
A raised platform, one that was no higher than your knees and no larger than a serving tray, was your stage. You enjoyed teasing me with your motion. No matter how I moved, I could not touch you. You were always just a bit too far away, though you were dancing right in front of me, nearly in my lap. It was as if some unseen barrier held me at bay.
Your hips and groin were level with my face, and they moved in such tantalizing ways. Occasionally, you would need to readjust a boot after it had slid down from your restless motion. It made the fantasy seem all the more real. Even that small imperfection in your performance was sultry and teasing; you incorporated it so well.
Your shirt would billow around you when the servers passed. A gust of wind from the door blew it off your shoulders completely, and it fell around your forearms. More flesh was bared for my eyes, and it seemed natural and planned. This did not hinder your dance at all; you used the loose material to tease me further. Twisting and arching, you looked bound by the cloth around your slim wrists.
Your golden chest was exposed for me to view. One nipple was pierced with a fine golden hoop. I tried to lean forward to taste your skin and suck on that fragile ring, but I could not. It was maddening. You were breathtaking and beautiful. I sat there watching helplessly, and my arousal grew.
Once the shirt went back on properly, I was amazed to see that you were unfastening the loin wrap. I saw everything you had to offer when one side of the cloth was set free. Nestled in that bit of cloth was what I have dreamed of so often, your strong, young cock. It begged to be touched and fondled, and I ached to please you as well.
I wanted to take that flaccid length in my hands and coax it to a state that matched my own, but I could not touch you! I wanted to take the cloth in my mouth, so that my breath stirred those short curls. I wanted to lay my head against your belly... oh how I wanted you in any way I could get.
Eventually, you retied the wrap and hid yourself from my eyes again. You danced until you were nearly panting. Whether it was from the heat of the room, the heavy smoke filled air, or from the relentless movements of your body, I could not tell.
I could see that you were getting weary as well. Your motions became almost desperate as your hips moved. Your arms hugged your body tight, and you arched your back, gracefully bending and exposing yourself more. You looked so vulnerable like that. A man in body, and a boy in heart. You were amazing.
As the night wore on, your flirtations grew more blatant. You dipped down, bending your knees so we were at eye level with one another. You legs were spread, and you balanced on the balls of your feet. The beat increased, and you grasped the edge of table behind you to steady yourself. With your back arched again and your arms stretched out, you began thrusting your hips and thrashing your head. You were imitating the responses I so badly wanted to force from your lean body.
Dropping to your knees, your head pitched forward, and you changed the movements of your body. Now you were astride an invisible lover, impaled on his flesh, using and being used. It was desperate and fast paced motion, and I was nearly hypnotized by it.
I fastened my eyes on your hands as they traced across your flat stomach. You teased me by running them along the ties of your loin wrap. Panting myself, I watched you pull it off completely, exposing yourself to me again. The once flaccid length was now full and firm. Performing for me had aroused you just as much as witnessing the display had done to me.
This... performance was more than I could handle. Desperately, I reached out for you, but my hand struck an unyielding wall. I opened my eyes to the concealing darkness of our quarters and whimpered. I was lying face down on my bed, grinding my hips into the surface under me, and pawing at the wooden pallet frame. I was nothing more than a pathetic wretch driven by his subconscious desire for his ward.
A moment of heart stopping panic seized me. Had I woken you as well? After taking several calming breaths, I was finally able to look to your pallet across the room. Thank the Force, you were still blissfully unaware of my pitiful state. I sighed with relief as I watched you for a few moments.
You still sleep with youthful abandon, laying sprawled out on your back. You had one arm flung carelessly over your face, while the other lay across your chest moving with each deep breath. Though tonight you had managed to keep your blankets, they were tangled around your waist and legs. It would not be long before you kicked yourself free, leaving the blankets in a heap on the floor as usual. Your chest was naked and exposed to me, and I could see that the chill air had peaked you nipples.
With that alarming thought, I pulled my lustful eyes away from your body. I refused to be some lecherous old man. I would not drool over the body of the one who trusted me most. With a few more deep, calming breaths of my own, I rose from my pallet and headed into the sitting room to mediate away both my arousal and my unhealthy desire.
It is now nearly dawn. I have finally managed to release my discomfiture to the Force, and I sit watching your final moments of sleep. I have tried to convince myself that recording these incidents will help exorcise my desire. Though if I were truthful, the only purpose served is to remind me of you on those lonely evenings when you seek the company of others. Only then, with you away and unaware, can I indulge this fantasy and relieve my physical desire with you name whispered from my lips.