Note: This is the 2nd story in the Mace series (Mace's Musings
is the 1st). It is definitely helpful if you read them in
order. Obi-Wan is eighteen.
I may be taking my infatuation with the boy too far.
He's just finished a superb saber duel, and I a relaxing kata,
and now I am following him into the fresher. It wasn't
something I had planned---I had no choice really---not after
that charming display with his friend.
After his training spar, his face glistened with the
exhilaration of sweat. I watched him, cautiously, concealing my
interest, as he wiped down with a towel and took a long,
quenching drink of cool water. And then his training partner,
another young padawan, stole the water bottle out of his hands
and poured its contents over his head.
The sound of Obi-Wan's laughter ringing out through the hall
was magnificent. I was captivated.
And now I am following him into the fresher. He's still
laughing and shoving his friend the way young men do. I haven't
acted that boisterous in years, and I'm a little envious of his
easy friendship. Being a master, and more so, a member of the
Council, puts great distance between me and other Jedi. I don't
think anyone would ever consider joking with me that way or
poking me with their fingers until I'm black and blue in the
ribs. Force, I wish someone would.
I slow my steps. Increase my interval. I want to allow him
ample time to strip and start the spray of hot water on his
body. I may only have a few seconds to get a look at him, and I
don't want it wasted on a half naked padawan. I'm not trying to
be lewd. I just want to see what Qui-Gon sees.
I guess that's it really. I blame you, Qui-Gon. You opened the
door on my imagination the night you let your shields down
while making love to him. It must have been one Sith of an
orgasm for your shields to drop though briefly. After that
night you have not slipped again. And it's a shame. That brief
surge of arousal, passion, joy, woke something in me. Something
I had forgotten ever existed in my life. And now I yearn for
it, and in that yearning I imagine the rapture you share with
him. Every night moving your body on his, licking every sweet
inch of him, and every morning waking with him in your arms.
How beautiful your entwined bodies must be in the pale light.
But I digress. I remove my tunics, set them aside, and head to
one of the freshers. There is little privacy here. The
showerheads are all in a row, with no separators, except for
those used by the youngest Initiates. I slip under a
showerhead, a dozen away from the object of my fascination. Any
closer and he would become uncomfortable, suspicious. As it is,
Council members do not generally use these facilities.
The spray of the water is hot. As hot as I can stand it.
Perhaps I should put the setting on cold to bite back the
twitch in my groin that is threatening to reveal my true
intentions. But I calm those urges and look straight ahead at
the wall. I lather, and let my eyes drift slowly toward him.
His back is to me and he is washing under his arm pits and
speaking casually with his friend. I turn my face fully, and am
stunned by the loveliness of his backside. The curve, the
muscle, the smoothness of him. At this moment, anything I had
known about him as a good student is forgotten by the sheer
beauty of him. The way the water runs off his fair skin. The
way the muscles in his arms flex slightly as he moves in his
methodical cleaning. And the way his ass dimples as he clenches
his buttocks while shifting his weight.
Qui-Gon this is yours? He is yours? Tell me what gods you
appeased to deserve this.
Obi-Wan and his friend are finished showering. They towel off,
dress, and head on their way. I am thankful that they've left,
my calm was fading, and now I am alone. Alone to indulge
myself. My burgeoning arousal.
I let my hand run slowly across the dark skin of my flat
stomach, but do not waste time there. It drops to my erection
and I clench my need, hissing with the touch. My hand moves
easily, quickly in soapy moisture over my hardened shaft. Yes,
this is good.
My mind dances around images of him sparring, laughing, eating
chocolate. And then it settles on him here. Naked. Wet. Washing
himself.... fondling himself. And then you are here, Qui-Gon.
You in your naked, leonine beauty. I am surprised by your
presence, since this is my fantasy, but I allow it.
You come up behind him, letting your arms slip around his
waist, and then you place your hand over his. Pumping with him.
Bringing him to climax. You are a good teacher. He arches back
into you and cries out your name, but before he can finish his
orgasm you are inside him. Driving your large, hard cock into
that firm ass. You thrust so hard he is on his toes and shoved
into the wall. Now you're pounding into him even harder, faster
still... all the while my hand moves efficiently over my slick
cock bringing me nearer to orgasm.
And then, Obi-Wan's face turns to me. He looks over his
shoulder to me. His face is flush with the pleasure of you
filling him, thrusting into him, but even in this pleasure he
seems confused.
"Master Windu?" He says to me.
I'm not sure why he's talking to me at a time like this, but I
answer. "Yes, Obi-Wan?"
"What's the matter? Are you all right?"
"Hmm?" I say, and my eyes flicker open.
Suddenly I realize that the real Obi-Wan is standing just
meters behind me. This is no longer the fantasy. He's speaking
to me, and I make sure I am fully turned from his view, and
force my hand to stop pumping.
"I came back for my thermal-geography notes." He says and holds
up a datapad. "I noticed you were breathing heavy..." I can see
the concern in his eyes, but it is quickly changing to shock.
The blue-green depths are now wide with realization. He
blushes. "Excuse me, Master." He says and practically runs from
the place.
Oh, Obi-Wan. How can you be so innocent with Qui-Gon diddling
you?
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