Master Apprentice  Archive The Master's Musings - 2002-04-09 -
Dance For Me |
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Archive: MA, any others just ask, I probably won't say no
My Home Page: http://www.jediphiles.com/~mali
Category: PWP
Rating: PG13ish?
Spoilers: None
Pairing: Q/O
Summary: A series of short snippets, all from Qui-Gon's POV, focusing on his love for Obi-Wan, and their relationship.
Disclaimer: These beautiful boys aren't mine, they belong to George. I'm just playing with them for a bit. I promise to put them back when I'm done. Don't sue - I've got no money. I've spent it all on seeing TPM way too many times and buying SW toys and feeding my Liam obsession.
Feedback: Oh yes, please. Good, bad or indifferent.
Author's Notes: I dedicate this Musings to Glasshouses and Sybil, who gifted me with a visit to LeBares (a male dancer club), as a belated Happy Divorce present. Not only did I get to spend several wonderful hours surrounded by beautiful, nearly nakey young men, but they then took it a step further, and purchased a lap dance for me. My dreams and bunnies will be fueled for a very long time to come, thanks to these two wonderful friends.
Additionally, I need to blame . . . er . . . thank the group in MIRC last night for helping me with a few clothing details and dance movements as described herein. [eg]
And thanks to Nansi for her beta, though any mistakes are still mine.
He mentioned it only once, nearly a year ago . . .
We were on Gailin IV, seated in the amusement arena of the planet's ruling faction, being entertained by a group of young, beautiful, barely clad, erotic dancers. Dressed in tight fitting briefs that I later learned are called "g-strings", they moved and writhed sensuously around us, rubbing up against us and each other. It was obvious Obi-Wan was affected by them, and truth be told, so was I.
"Are you are enjoying yourself, Padawan?" I whispered as he stared, open mouthed, at the gorgeous young man dancing almost in his lap.
"Very much, Master," he whispered back, sparing me a quick grin. "Especially as I am imagining it is you dancing for me."
We spoke no more of it, but I couldn't shake the memory of the pleasure on his face as he watched the dancers, nor his passion later that night, when we were alone in our rooms.
An idea began to form in my mind.
And now, finally, the right set of circumstances has come together, providing me the perfect opportunity to implement my plan.
We arrived on Tonsan this morning, sent here to accompany a small delegation of Tonsanian politicians back to Coruscant. Our ship is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, so once we've completed all of the preparations for our return journey, we have a free afternoon and evening ahead of us.
With plans to meet later for dinner, I leave Obi-Wan talking mechanics with a group of Tonsanian student pilots, and head across town. The address I've been given is for a building just on the outskirts of town, and I have no problem locating the establishment. While it appears quite unassuming from the outside, I know it houses a very elite dance club. A club in which I will be employed for the evening.
A few credits pressed into the owner's hand stops any questions he might have. The promise of even more credits at the end of the evening has him eager to assist me in my quest to surprise Obi-Wan.
Over the next several hours I am bathed and oiled from head to toe. My hair is washed with a special coloring agent, which deepens its natural chestnut color, and changes the gray streaks to silvery highlights. I am measured and fitted for my costume, which includes my very own "g-string", and I manage not to laugh at the green lightsaber "cock-sock" (as I learn it is called) that I will be wearing. And finally I am ready. Or as ready as I am going to be.
I know the moment Obi-Wan enters the club, as suddenly our bond is filled with his bright curiosity. My message to him had been brief, just the directions to the club and the time he should arrive. Nothing more. I peek through the curtains, pleased to see he's taken a seat near the front. The club is crowded and loud. I take a deep breath, releasing my nervousness into the Force, and then I pull the hood of my robe over my face and move to the center of the stage, behind the curtain.
At my nod, the lights dim, and music begins to play. A voice on the speaker system asks for the attention of the audience. "I have a very special surprise for you tonight, my friends," the voice announces excitedly. "All the way from Coruscant, I have the good fortune to bring you Qui-Gon, the dancing Jedi!!!" Of course no one in the audience actually believes a Jedi is about to dance for them. Except, of course, one very surprised Padawan. Amidst the cheers and whistles, the curtain begins to rise and the lights begins to pulse in time with the music.
I look up, my eyes unerringly finding Obi-Wan's, and the expression on his face tells me all I need to know. He is thrilled with my surprise. He is grinning beautifully up at me, all the while filling our bond with his love for me. I stare at him a long moment, allowing his love to warm every inch of my soul before sending my own back to him.
With a wink to my love, I shrug out of my cloak, letting it to fall the floor. The catcalls and whistles grow louder as the audience catches sight of my Jedi tunic and leggings. Only Obi-Wan and the club's seamstress know just how "authentic" they actually are. I'd brought an extra set of clothing with me, and the seamstress has done an incredible job in the short time she'd had to work on them. The only thing missing is my (other) lightsaber, but I doubt that small detail will be missed by this crowd.
I'm moving around the stage, dancing and gyrating in time to the music, feeling as if I've been doing this for years. In some respects, I suppose I have, as many of the katas I've spent a lifetime learning and doing incorporate the same type of movements.
The crowd is cheering loudly, and I hear someone call out for me to take it off, and soon the entire room has picked up the chant. "Take it off! Take it off!" Louder and louder they chant, until the music can no longer be heard above the voices.
Suddenly the music stops and I stop moving as well. The crowd quickly stills, staring up at me in anticipation. I reach for the belt at my waist, and with a flick of my wrist it is open and drops to the floor. My sash is next, though instead of dropping it, I drape it around my neck. My tunics fall open, and all at once I realize just how much I'm enjoying this, and with that thought, I decide to really put on a show.
The music begins again, pulsating drumbeats growing louder, interspersed with jolts of white-hot electrifying chords. I can feel the music flowing through my body, becoming a part of me, making me a part of it. Taking my time, I slip off my tunic, twirling it once before flinging it into the audience. The crowd roars its approval and quite a few Tonsanians, both male and female, have left their chairs and are crowding around the stage.
I know what they want. I feel powerful and beautiful at the same time, and it is quite intoxicating. No longer able to see Obi-Wan through the crush of beings at the stage, I continue to tease, to play with the audience. I know what they want.
Swaying to the haunting beat, I close my eyes and slide my hands down my oiled chest to the waistband of my leggings. I thrust my hips suggestively, thrilling to the whistles and hoots of the crowd. Eyes still closed, I throw my head back and yank at the nearly invisible strings tied to my waistband, causing my leggings to split from hip to boot on each leg. The screams of approval egg me on, and with another thrust of my hips, the material falls away, leaving me standing in just my Jedi boots and green lightsaber cock-sock.
I've been practicing for this. Using the quick, jerky hip movements I learned from the other dancers, I am actually able to start my cock swinging independently of my body. A touch of the Force augments my movements, exaggerating the swing of my cock until it is dancing and bouncing like a demented conductor's baton.
The crowd is going wild, their screams drowning out all but the loudest of the drumbeats. And then at my signal, the lights go out, and if possible, the screams grow even louder. I can feel Obi-Wan's mirth through our bond, and I laugh out loud, enjoying the moment. My seamstress thought it would be the perfect touch to have my cock-sock glow in the dark. And so it does.
The lights come back on, and I am amazed at the crowd. Pressed against the stage, I doubt there are any Tonsanians still in their seats. All of them are waving paper credit chits at me, begging me to come closer. Completely caught up in the spirit of the moment, I grab the sash still hanging around my neck and "rope" the nearest Tonsanian. A female, I note, as I pull her towards me. I grab her hands and put them on my hips, and with more exaggerated motions, I slide down to my knees, making sure she stays in close contact with me. Her eyes are glued to my crotch, and she licks her lips hungrily as she squeezes my hips in her long, graceful fingers.
"Oh baby!!" she squeals with delight. "What a pretty Jedi you are!!" She tucks a credit chit into my "g-string", and I lean down and kiss her cheek.
"Thank you, my lady," I whisper in her ear. I pull the sash from around her neck and as she moves away another Tonsanian takes her place. A male, this time, who is far more interested in my "lightsaber" than he should be.
"Is this real?" he asks, trying to grab my cock.
I laugh and easily avoid his groping fingers.
The sea of bodies seems endless, and quite soon there are credit chits all over the stage floor. I've been groped and caressed, kissed and touched, licked and fondled, had my nipples pinched, and have even had my rear-end spanked a few times. Interesting side note, I rather enjoyed the spanking. I take my time with each customer, wanting them to feel as special as they are making me feel. Letting each one know how much I appreciate the chits they valiantly try to stuff into my "g-string".
I catch sight of Obi-Wan several times, quite pleased to see he is waving a few chits of his own at me. Eventually I make my way through the crowd, saving the best for last.
"Hello, lover," I grin, reaching down for his hands. He smiles up at me and puts his hands in mine. Instead of leaning down to him, I pull him up on the stage with me. Murmurs of surprise ripple through the dance club at this unusual turn of events. Oblivious to everything except my beautiful, young Padawan, I lean down and press a kiss to his sweet lips. The entire room erupts in a cacophony of joyful cheers and whistles, as the realization dawns that something special is going on in their midst. Holding him close, I move my lips to his ear. "Did you enjoy that, my love?" I ask, my voice a whisper.
"I'll show you just how much I enjoyed it as soon as we are alone," he promises, and then he chuckles softly. "But from now on, you only dance for me."
End