Master Apprentice  Archive The Master's Musings - 2003-10-06 - My
Special Gift |
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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: NC17
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.
Notes: My sincere thanks to Fox, the wonderful Fox, who agreed to beta this at the last minute. And while she did her usual excellent job, any and all mistakes are still mine.
I wake to find my bed empty and the sheets cool to my touch. He's been up for a while, and that alone is enough to arouse my suspicions. Obi-Wan is many things, but he is not a morning person. I roll over, trying to ignore my morning erection and the accompanying grumpiness at not having my lover close by, and I come face to face with Obi-Wan. He is kneeling on the floor, watching me.
"Padawan?" I ask, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"Good morning, my Master." His voice holds no answers to my unasked questions. He acts as if it's perfectly normal for me to find him kneeling at my bedside.
I rise up a bit, to get a better look at him, and catch my breath. For a brief instant, I wonder if I'm still asleep, because surely I must be dreaming. And what I dream I'm having. Obi-Wan is naked, save for a set of nipple clamps and a very small loin cloth that barely covers a rather impressive erection.
"Obi-Wan?" My voice cracks slightly, making me fairly certain I'm not dreaming. In my dreams, at least, I would know exactly what to do next.
"If it pleases you, my Master," Obi-Wan says with a soft smile, "I offer myself as your sex-slave, to do with as you will, in honor of the day of your birth."
"A sex-slave?" I ask, wanting to make sure I heard correctly.
"Yes, Master."
"For my name day?"
"If it pleases you, Master."
"For the entire day?"
"I've taken the liberty of clearing our schedules for the day," Obi-Wan says, trying, but failing, to hide a grin.
While my brain is rather slow to comprehend, the rest of my body is having no such trouble. My morning erection, which had flagged a bit at finding my bed empty, is quick to inform me it knows exactly how to respond to such a gift.
"My sex-slave," I say, more to myself than to him. Neither of us has anything pressing scheduled today, and in truth, I would much rather spend the day in bed with Obi-Wan. It's a rare thing, given our schedules and responsibilities, and it takes but a moment for me to decide to take full advantage of this opportunity. Which of course means taking full advantage of my young lover's offer.
"If it pleases you, my Master."
Decision made, I happily allow myself to slip into the roll of Master to this beautiful sensual creature. "Oh, it pleases me, my sweet one. Very much so." I sit up in bed, making sure he can see just how very much the idea pleases me. "Stand up, let me get a good look at you. See if you're worth the credits I spent."
He rises slowly; the tent between his legs should make it difficult, but he does it gracefully. He stands before me, his hands on his hips and his legs slightly spread. He is beautiful to me, and he knows it. I love looking at him, and he knows that too. I take my time to study him, committing every inch of him to memory.
His russet colored hair is longer than it should be, but that's my fault. It's the perfect length to run my fingers through, and I love the way it feels on my skin. The tip of his braid hangs nearly to his waist, reminding me of the years we've shared together. I stop myself from reaching out to grab it, to pull him close, to take what is mine, for there is plenty of time for that. He is broad of chest and narrow of hip, and his finely chiseled muscles speak of strength and life. I long to caress his silky skin. Two silver clamps dangle from his nipples, their weight just enough to keep his nipples erect. It's been a long time since those have made an appearance, and I didn't realize how much I've missed them until I see them now.
The loin cloth he wears barely hides the treasure between his legs, and though I know what lies hidden beneath the thin cloth, I suddenly yearn to see it again. But still I make myself wait.
I let my gaze slide downward, to well-muscled thighs that beg to be licked and stroked and strong calves which wrap tightly around me when I bury myself deep within him.
I want him. Force, I want him. But still I wait.
"Turn around," I growl, my voice husky with need. "Slowly."
He moves sensually, almost like a dancer, giving me ample time to stare at every rippling muscle. He has the back and shoulders of an athlete, beautifully toned, perfectly formed and lovely to look at. But it is not his back that holds my gaze. It's the two firm mounds of flesh separated by the thin strip of loin cloth that I stare at. Hungrily. I know what it feels like to squeeze those mounds between my fingers as I hold him open for my tongue or for my cock. I close my eyes, and I can almost taste him, and I ache with need.
"Turn around!" I growl again, much harsher than before.
He turns and looks at me, knowing what he's done to me, what he's doing to me. "Do I please the Master," he asks, not even bothering to hide his smirk.
"Come here!" I demand. I lean back and watch as he moves onto the bed. I catch a glimpse of something shiny beneath his loin cloth, and realize he's wearing a cock ring. Force, he's truly determined to drive me insane. "Take it off!" I growl, nodding at the cloth. He moves his hand, and with a flick of his wrist, the cloth drops to the bed. And yes, it's there, a silver ring at the base of his thick shaft.
I swallow. Hard. "I'm going to fuck you," I tell him, shocking both of us at my language.
He gasps and stares down at me. "Master?"
"I'm going to fuck you for hours, and then I'm going to fuck you some more!" I reach up and tug on a nipple clamp, and he gasps again.
"If it pleases you, my Master," Obi-Wan says, his voice a bit high and squeaky.
It pleases me to know I'm getting to him. It's not often I'm the one making him squirm. "I want you to suck my cock," I tell him, spreading my legs.
Obi-Wan moves to kneel between my thighs, his eyes on my aching, leaking shaft. He licks his lips and leans forward, and it takes all my might not to come even before he begins. He slips out his tongue and barely tastes me, and it's as if a bolt of electricity goes straight from his tongue to my balls. I groan and clench my fists in the bedding. He presses his lips against the head of my cock, and then begins to slowly suck my length into his mouth. He's very good at this, knows exactly how to use that clever tongue of his to drive me higher, so that when I fall, it is hard and fast. I try to hold back, desperate to make it last, but he is too good, and I am too close. I thrust upwards, into his hot, wet mouth, feeling his tongue swirl around my thickness as he sucks me deeper and deeper into his tight throat. He swallows once, and I am lost. Obi-Wan continues to lick and suck and swallow till I fall back onto the bed, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.
His hands are tight on my thighs, and I know, even through my satiated haze, he's struggling to work through his arousal. The cock ring helps, of course. He can't come as long as it remains in its current position. I could take care of that for him, but that would spoil the fun.
I open eyes I don't remember closing and look up at Obi-Wan. His eyes are still slightly dilated, his lips are wet from my seed, and he is the picture of pure decadence. It's a picture I am happy to add to my memories. He looks down at me, and for just a moment our bond is flooded with his love for me, and for his desire to please me, and I wonder again, what I did to deserve such a man as this.
"Did that please you, my Master?" he asks softly.
"Very much," I answer. "As you always do." I take his braid between my fingers and softly tug him towards me. I want to kiss him, to make love to him, but as my lover and not as my slave. He knows me so well, knows what I want, what I need, and he moves forward, his smile speaking volumes. I gently remove first one clamp and then the other from his nipples, glad to see they were not so tight as to be painful. A touch of the Force, and his cock is free of the silver ring.
He rests on his hands and knees above me, looking down at me. "The day has barely started, Master. Are you ending our game so soon?"
"Just changing the rules," I grin.
He leans down and touches his lips to mine, just the barest of a kiss. "And what are the new rules, my Master?"
His voice has softened, deepened, and it's a tone I'm well familiar with. It speaks of love and desire, of trust and need, and when he talks to me using that tone of voice, I would willingly cut off my hand if he so desired. He knows this as well. I reach up and slide my arms around him, pulling him close to me. "I want you to tell me what would please you, my love."
He leans in for another kiss, a real kiss, complete with tongue and open lips and Force, it should be illegal for a man to kiss the way he does. "You please me," he murmurs between kisses.
I roll us, so that I'm the one looking down at him. "Tell me what you want," I whisper. "Tell me, and it is yours."
He spreads his legs, allowing me to settle comfortably between them. "I want you, inside me, where you belong."
His words stir me, my heart as well as my shaft, and Obi-Wan, as always, knows exactly what he is doing to me. He moves suggestively beneath me, even as he pulls me back down for another long kiss. By the time we break for air, I'm once again hard. Aching to be inside of Obi-Wan. Where I belong.
I hunger constantly for him, and can never get enough of kissing him, tasting him, smelling him, touching him. I kiss him again and again, filling my senses with all that is Obi-Wan. His moans and sighs are music to my ears, and I join him in giving voice to my growing arousal. He writhes sensually beneath me, his legs and arms surround me, and my focus narrows until the only thing I am aware of is Obi-Wan.
"Want you," he murmurs against my lips.
"Yes," I grunt, sliding one arm from around him. I start to reach for the oil on the bedside table, and he stops me.
"I'm ready," he says, pulling his legs up even further. "So ready!"
I pull back just enough to look at him, and he quickly reaches between us and wraps his fist around my turgid shaft. "Fuck me, Master," he groans as he guides me to the opening of his body. "Like you said you would!"
His words go straight to my groin, and I bite my lip in an effort not to shove myself into him. I'm afraid of hurting him, but Force, he's holding my cock so tight, and he's pushing me into him as he tries to thrust his hips up, tries to impale himself further onto my shaft. And he is ready for me. I have just enough presence of mind left to realize he is well oiled, and already stretched.
He releases my cock and reaches down to grab his thighs, opening himself wider for me. "Fuck me, Master!" he says, his voice husky with need.
I stare down at him a long moment and he stares back. Eyes locked, I finally give in, and begin to push myself into the tight, white heat of Obi-Wan's body. It is so good. So hot. So tight.
"Hard!" he gasps, still holding my gaze. "Fuck me hard!"
I can't help it. I can't stop now. I groan loud and long as I shove myself into his welcoming body. He cries out, but it's not a cry of pain and it urges me on. He urges me on. I pull almost all the way of his body, pause for just a fraction of a second, and then I slam back into him. He meets my thrust with his body, letting me know he wants it hard, wants it just like this.
"Again!" he demands, and of course, I obey. I pull out and shove back in, hard and fast. He grunts each time our bodies slam into each other, and I groan each time I pull out of him. I set a demanding pace, and he meets me thrust for thrust.
I love him. Force, I love him so much. I love seeing him like this, knowing I am the one making him cry out with pleasure. I love feeling him move under me, his body begging me to take him higher. And every time we come together, the Force is with us, flowing in and around us, wrapping us in its light, drawing us closer in mind as well as body.
I move in and out of Obi-Wan, faster and faster, no longer able to maintain a rhythm, yet still he matches each thrust of my hips with an answering thrust of his.
"Love you," he cries out. I know he's close, and I am there with him, merely a stroke or two behind him. He suddenly begins to spasm and shudder, and I feel the hot wetness of his seed spurting on my chest. He comes hard and long, and I cannot help but follow him.
Gasping for breath, I collapse into his welcoming arms, and we hold each other close. A week or an hour or a few minutes later, I move slightly, so that I don't crush him, and we get comfortable. Since neither of us has anywhere to be today, I can think of no finer way to pass the hours than in bed with my Obi-Wan.
He thought he would offer himself to me as a gift for my name day, but he genuinely doesn't understand what the true gift is. It is the gift of our love for each other. The gift of the Force allowing us to bond so deeply. It is the things we share each and every day of our lives together, whether we are two Jedi on a mission, or two men playing games in bed.
And I think I'll wait till tomorrow to tell him that my name day isn't till next week.
Fini