Master Apprentice Archive Master of Discipline #2: Caught in the Middle Quick search:

Feedback: Oh, give it to me baby ... emila_wan@yahoo.com

Archive: M_A. Others please ask. Also archived at http://www.jediphiles.com/index69.htm

Category: PWP, ABH, Angst

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: none

Summary: Obi-Wan is invited to join you and the Master for your "games," and none of you will ever be the same.

Disclaimer: George Lucas is da man. He owns everything. We just play.

Warnings: Explicit sex between two men and a woman in just about every combination you can think of. A bit of mild discipline. And I admit it, I couldn't stay away from the angst.

Series: Master of Discipline. This is the second of several planned in this series. The first was "MOD #1 - Caught Red Handed."

Note: I've written this as an ABH (anywhere but here) story, which means most of it is in YOUR point of view. That's why the woman isn't described. Please forgive any liberties I might take with your personal tastes, etc. [g] In my world your name is Lezli, and you are a Jedi Knight. (You are also six feet tall, with dishwater blonde hair, an engaging smile, and an affinity for small mammals, but you can ignore that if you like. [g])

Dedication: To my beloved Padawan. You are the inspiration and star of this series, and my foremost muse in all my creative endeavors. May this little bit of smut bring you much joy, and may your batteries never run low! [eg]

Thanks: To my beta Fox, once again, for setting me straight about epithets and sundry other of my sins.

The stealthy sound of the front door closing awakens you from a light doze. You reach out with your senses, but it is only Obi-Wan, returning relatively early from his date at the embassy. You settle closer into the Master's embrace and bask in his warmth, though you know you should probably get up and find your own room, take a shower ...

Qui-Gon's arms tighten around you. "I'd like you to stay," he rumbles in your ear.

You laugh. "I still need a shower. I'm sticky. And so is this bed. But first, I'm thirsty." You extricate yourself from his clutching hands, wrap a sheet around yourself, and stumble out into the common room, blinking like a night-glider at the light from Coruscant's ceaseless traffic. You reach to key in an opacity of 75 percent, but a soft noise stops you.

Obi-Wan is sitting on the floor, legs crossed, elbows on knees, face in his hands. You hear the sound again, a soft sigh.

"Obi-Wan?"

He starts, unfolds himself gracefully and smoothes his tunics. "Knight Risge ... Lezli. I didn't realize ..." He turns his gaze downward and bows deeply. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I shall retreat to my room."

"You didn't disturb me." You intercept him as he tries to edge past you, stopping him with a hand on his cheek. You are slightly taller than he, and the gesture is more motherly than erotic, despite the games you'd played earlier with him and the Master in Qui-Gon's bed. His eyes are a bit red, but nothing a night out might not have caused. "Are you all right? You're home awfully early."

He smiles, one of his heartbreaking grins that takes your breath away. Perhaps you're not feeling so motherly after all. His voice is soft and full of self-deprecation. "It seems I am not fit company for diplomats tonight."

Ah. His date at the embassy party must not have gone well. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He dips his head, a negative. His smooth cheek nestles almost unconsciously against your palm. "Thank you, no," he whispers.

Your thumb strokes across his lips, down to the cleft in his chin -- still stubbled where his razor missed -- back across the pliant mouth once more, soft lips now parted to your touch. His head tilts back slightly and his eyes droop closed. "Come sleep with us," you say.

His breath hitches in a sigh, but he doesn't move. "I shouldn't," he breathes. "It's not my place." Desire emanates from him like sunlight; desire for you, for Qui-Gon, for acceptance, for closeness, for the comfort of touch, for unconditional love. You wonder if Qui-Gon has seen this side of his Padawan, the longing that is dangerously close to despair.

A realization strikes you. "You love him," you say. There is no need to say who you mean.

He sighs very softly. "It's moot, isn't it? Now you're back?"

"Nonsense. I don't mind sharing. There's plenty to go around." He chuckles uncertainly. You take his hand and tug him toward the Master's bedroom, a wicked plan forming in your mind. He comes without protest, though his shields have turned to ice.

Qui-Gon looks up when you enter. He has changed the sheets, and now he is standing, naked and magnificent, a towel in his hand. He looks startled as he catches sight of Obi-Wan. "Padawan, I didn't expect you home tonight."

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. "I ..."

You intervene, shushing Obi-Wan with a gentle finger to his lips. "He seems to be free this evening after all. I invited him to be with us. That is, if you don't mind?"

Qui-Gon's brows threaten to rise into his hairline. His gaze flickers between the two of you, taking in the closeness of your bodies, the lingering caress of your finger on Obi-Wan's lips, the growing bulge in Obi-Wan's scandalously tight leather pants. The Master grins. "Back for the rest of your punishment, Padawan?"

"I thought I'd already been punished."

Qui-Gon chuckles. "That was hardly a punishment. I don't seem to be able to handle your training very well in this area. I think I'd better let Lezli decide your fate, don't you?"

Obi-Wan gulps. "Yes, Master." His voices hitches, from nervousness or desire, you can't tell.

"I can think of a few things I'd like to make you do," you say, sliding a palm down to cup his swollen crotch. Obi-Wan gasps and grinds his hips into your touch.

Qui-Gon's grin widens, and he crosses the room to you. Obi-Wan's steps carefully away. The Master wraps his arms around you and presses his lips to your ear. "This ought to be good." He kisses you, long and hot and deep. His naked body is pressed against both of you. He smells of sweat and sex. You hear Obi-Wan take in a deep breath.

You break contact. "I think we need a shower first," you say with a grin.

You unwrap yourself from the sheet and stuff it in the laundry hamper. Qui-Gon saunters into the 'fresher and turns it on. Obi-Wan stands looking between the two of you, obviously uncertain what to do.

"It's big enough for three," you say, and brush your fingers along his arm as you pass him on the way to the shower. "Come in if you like."

To your delight, he kicks his boots off and yanks his tunic over his head. You leave him and step into the shower. Soon he slides into the stall with you. Qui-Gon has already lathered a washpuff with fragrant spicewood soap. He glides it over every part of you in sensual strokes. Hot water batters the Master's back, sending steam billowing out into the room. You fill a palm with more of the soap and slather it over Qui-Gon's broad chest, taking your time, covering every inch of his torso in firm strokes. You pay special attention to the nipples. You have always loved the Master's nipples. Large, like the rest of him, in arousal they peak into long, slender buds. You curl your tongue around one, gratified to hear the rumble of his groan at the touch. He is so wonderfully responsive.

Obi-Wan's hands slide tentatively around your waist. You reach down and guide them to your breasts, pulling him close behind you. A throbbing erection nudges your backside as he presses himself full against you, moaning. His fingers knead your breasts with exquisite skill. Whatever other talents he may have, this Padawan knows what he is doing when it comes to sex.

Qui-Gon's large hands rove over and around you, between your legs, behind you, gliding over Obi-Wan's flesh as well. You feel the younger man's erection jerk as the Master's hands touch his hips. Obi-Wan is still shielding his emotions, but it's impossible for him to hide so desperate a need. His hot, open mouth descends on your shoulder, biting and sucking. Small gasps and whimpers pour from him, and his body is undulating against yours in a steady rhythm. His hands are almost bruising in their insistent fondling of your breasts.

Qui-Gon's hand is back between your legs, stroking quickly. His other hand buries itself in your hair and then you are being pulled into a passionate kiss. His mouth covers yours, devours you. You open wide to receive him and suddenly it is all too much. With a loud cry you spasm into uncontrolled orgasm. Both men press close around you, holding you up, as wave after wave of pleasure assaults you.

Before you have finished coming, you find yourself lifted and turned. Qui-Gon has your back up against the wall of the shower, hot water pouring over you. He grasps your thighs and impales you, hard and impossibly deep, in one stroke. Force, but he fills you, and it's so good. He pumps into you, thrusting so hard you think the wall might give. He grunts with each powerful thrust. You know he is close. Opening your eyes in the stream of water, you see Obi-Wan leaning back against the opposite wall, stroking and pulling at his erection as he watches the two of you through slitted eyes. His gaze is fixed on the clench and release of his Master's backside as he pumps into you.

Suddenly you realize you'd better stop them if you have any hope of completing your plan. You push at Qui-Gon's chest, saying, "No, stop, no!" until your words penetrate the haze and he stops thrusting.

"What?" he moans. His eyes drift in and out of focus, and his breath comes in heavy gasps. He slowly lowers you to your feet.

You reach over and slap at Obi-Wan's hands to stop his masturbating. You grin at their puzzled expressions. "No more, you two. I thought I was in charge here." They stare at you dully. In this state they are no better than dumb beasts. You cut off the water and reach for a towel. "Come on," you say. "Dry off and come to bed. I've got something planned for you."

They follow you, stepping cautiously as their knees threaten to give way. You notice they are very careful not to touch each other as they exit the shower and dry off. You are about to change that.

You sit in the center of Qui-Gon's huge bed, drying your hair with a towel. The Master enters, completely naked and comfortable in his body, his skin still pink from the hot shower. His erection has wilted slightly but it is still impressive. He gives you an amused look. "Where do you want me?" he asks.

You point to the edge of the bed. "Sit."

He grins laconically and complies. Obi-Wan enters, a towel wrapped about his waist. You raise a hand. With a gesture from you, the towel springs away from his body, coils itself, and snaps him in the backside before sailing into the 'fresher.

Qui-Gon laughs. You grin. Obi-Wan simply raises a brow at the both of you. "I don't know if I should be aroused or simply frightened," he says. His penis is telling a different story. It arches in a proud curve toward his belly, still very thick and firm, the tip a bright red. Your mouth waters as you contemplate taking him in and swallowing him whole.

You clear your throat. "Qui-Gon," you begin. The Master looks at you expectantly. "I have the right to decide Obi-Wan's punishment for spying on us earlier?"

"Yes."

"And I can do anything I want?"

"I have said so."

"Padawan."

Obi-Wan's eyes grow larger. "Yes?"

"You will call me Master and you will do what I say. If at any time you don't like what's happening, call me Lezli and we will quit. Understood?"

"Yes, Master," he says, giving you a heart-stopping grin.

You clear your throat. "Very well. Let us begin. Obi-Wan, I want you to kneel before Qui-Gon."

His cocky grin fading to an uncertain one, he complies. Qui-Gon's hands rest on the sheets to either side. The two men are still careful not to touch. You hide a smile. "Now, I want you to kiss Qui-Gon. On the mouth. And make it good. Don't stop until I tell you."

Obi-Wan shoots you an impenetrable look. Your eyes lock for a second, and you send him a wave of encouragement. He turns to Qui-Gon.

The older man is also staring at you, more openly hostile. He raises a brow at you. You raise one back at him, mocking, and then gesture as if to say, "Go on!"

Qui-Gon turns his face to Obi-Wan, who rises up on his knees and reaches to ghost a blunt finger along his Master's hairline. Their eyes are at a level. "May I?" Obi-Wan asks huskily. His whole manner is diffident, but his eyes hold his Master's gaze.

The moment stretches interminably. You hold your breath. At last, Qui-Gon closes his eyes and nods. His mouth is set in an unhappy line.

Obi-Wan scoots closer, prompting Qui-Gon to part his knees and let him in. He cups the Master's head in gentle palms. The kiss starts slow, a soft brush of barely-there lips against Qui-Gon's rigid mouth, then dances away to skirt the edge of his beard along his cheeks, his brow, his ears, the hinge of his jaw, and back to the corners of his mouth. It is the most languorous of seductions, and erotic beyond anything you've ever imagined. Even Qui-Gon cannot help but respond. You see his lips part slightly as Obi-Wan presses more soft kisses there.

To this point there has been no other touching, no tongue, only the sweet, slow kisses. Obi-Wan seems in no hurry, but his body language is evocative of his longing and need. His hands tremble as he lets them drift, ever so slowly. One burrows deeper into Qui-Gon's hair to cup the back of his head. The other settles in the join of neck and shoulder, the thumb very gently kneading the hollow of Qui-Gon's throat. You see the Master swallow. A small, needy sound emerges from him.

At last Obi-Wan allows his tongue to taste, very softly. Qui-Gon's mouth opens wider, welcoming, and Obi-Wan delves briefly inside before pulling back to take the Master's bottom lip between his own with gentle suction.

Qui-Gon's hands rise from his sides and settle lightly on Obi-Wan's upper arms. Qui-Gon's erection is back at full-staff again, only inches away from the younger man's belly. As Obi-Wan deepens the kiss, the Master's hands tighten their grip, lifting his Padawan and pulling him closer. Their chests touch, and both of them moan at the contact. Obi-Wan breaks off the kiss and moves his mouth to the join of neck and shoulder, nipping and sucking, still languid but with a hint of urgency in the way his hands caress his Master's skin.

You settle back on the cushions and watch, breathless, with an ache growing between your legs, as Qui-Gon lets his head fall back and surrenders himself completely to the sensations washing over him. His hands are gripping Obi-Wan's arms now with bruising strength.

Obi-Wan's head dips lower, his lips tracing an agonizingly slow trail downward until his mouth closes on one of Qui-Gon's plump, erect nipples. The Master groans; his hips thrust involuntarily, and the tip of his erection grinds against Obi-Wan's chest. Obi-Wan takes the nipple in his teeth and worries it, little gasps of need escaping him with each breath.

Qui-Gon's hands scramble to Obi-Wan's head. He buries his thick fingers in the short-cropped hair as Obi-Wan turns his attention to the other nipple, flicking the point of his tongue against it sharply, then pressing his mouth to it and suckling. Qui-Gon makes a choked sound. He tightens his grip on Obi-Wan's hair and tugs him upward. Obi-Wan comes willingly, burying his hands once more in Qui-Gon's hair and locking their mouths together. The kiss this time is hard, urgent, and you can feel the young man's love and need pouring from him, crashing against Qui-Gon's shields in a wave of lust the Master cannot help but feel. _You_ have no trouble feeling it; in fact, it's making you burn with desire so hot you can barely think. What it must be like for Qui-Gon -- who shares a bond with him, who even now is crushed against him, undulating, moaning -- you can't even imagine.

Suddenly Qui-Gon breaks contact, pulls back with a gasp. "Enough," he rasps.

Obi-Wan seems not to hear. With a kind of desperation, his mouth seeks whatever flesh it can reach, fastening on to the base of Qui-Gon's throat.

Qui-Gon shudders, his eyes closing for a moment. Then he puts his hands on Obi-Wan's chest and _shoves_ him, sends him tumbling to his backside on the floor. He stands, looming over his apprentice. "I said enough!" he growls.

Obi-Wan looks up at him, his eyes still glazed with longing. After a second, a rapid series of emotions cross his face -- realization, hurt, shame. He folds himself over into a posture of submission, his forehead on the floor. "I am sorry, Master."

You finally find your tongue. "Wait, wait, wait," you say.

Qui-Gon turns an angry look on you. "Just what are you trying to do?"

You give him the same look right back. "I am _trying_ to have a little fun here with Obi-Wan's punishment."

He places his hands on his hips and raises an eyebrow at you. "And how far am I expected to go in providing entertainment for you? This game is over."

"Oh, please!" You slide over and take his erect penis in your hands. He is completely rigid, very close to climax. "It's not like you weren't enjoying it." You stroke him softly, root to tip and back again. "You two were so hot for each other; it really turned me on watching you."

He closes his eyes, but his frown stays in place. "I am not going to have sex with my apprentice," he grumbles.

"Please, just ..." Obi-Wan says from the floor. His shields are taut, and you can get nothing from him now at all. "I'll just ... just let me go, please."

"Go on," Qui-Gon says harshly. Obi-Wan jumps nimbly to his feet, quickly pads over to his clothes and shrugs on his cloak. His eyes are fixed firmly on the floor, his face an expressionless mask. He gathers the other clothes into a bundle in his arms.

"But --"

"Silence!" Qui-Gon scowls at you.

"No, wait!" You glide to your feet, intending to cross to the door and stop Obi-Wan before he can get away.

Qui-Gon grabs your arm to stop you. "Don't you think you've caused enough trouble for one day? Let him go."

The door whispers open and closed. You wrench your arm away from Qui-Gon and turn on him. "You know, for a Jedi Master you are so ... so .... dense!"

He crosses his arms. "I beg your pardon?"

"Somebody kisses you like that, pours out his heart full of love and devotion, and you toss him out the door?"

His eyes narrow. "It's only Obi-Wan," he says, clearly exasperated. "He was playing along with your game."

"Force save me from stupid men!" You clutch your hands in your hair. "I don't know we see in you."

"_What_ are you talking about? Oh, never mind." He flops back onto the bed and starts punching the pillows.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to bed. You can join me if you like."

"No, thanks." You throw on your cloak and head out the door before you give in to the temptation to strangle him.

The door slides closed behind you and you wonder what to do. Should you go to Obi-Wan and apologize now, or simply leave and let emotions cool down first? You start to cross to his door, then you see him, standing on the balcony, wrapped tight in his cloak, staring out at the city's nightscape. The rush of traffic creates a kind of constant hushed roar.

You walk over and stand in the archway, not sure of your welcome. He says nothing, does not even acknowledge your presence. Perhaps you should take the hint, but your instincts tell you to persist. "Are you all right?" you ask softly.

You hear a bitter chuckle. "Kicked out of bed twice in one night. It's a personal record."

You take a step toward him. "What happened?" Then you realize the impertinence of the question. "I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me ..."

He leans back against the wall, his head tilted back, eyes closed. His arms are clutched tightly about his body. "Even a casual bed partner can't be expected to tolerate being called by somebody else's name."

"Ah," you say, and step to the rail. You stare out at the traffic. You ought to go, but you can't seem to pull yourself away from him. Even now, out of your line of sight, you are aware of his presence as if he were a flame that warms your back.

"And he was right," Obi-Wan continues. "He deserves better. I ... I'm thinking about swearing off sex."

You whirl around. "You can't do that!" you say, astonishment pulling the protest from you. "I mean, don't do anything hasty," you amend.

He takes a deep breath, lets it out. "I only meant for a while, until I can get over these ... inappropriate feelings."

You step closer, put out a hand. You can't seem to resist touching him. His forearm is like a rock. His whole body thrums with tension. "Obi-Wan, I am so, so sorry. I shouldn't have pushed ..."

"It's not your fault," he says huskily. "It's mine. I knew he would not want ... would not welcome my feelings." He swallows convulsively. "I ... he's so far above me, I doubt he sees me as other than a project, a piece of clay to be molded. I never expected to be able ... even to kiss him. That was an unexpected gift." He straightens his head and opens his eyes, giving you a wan grin. "And I thank you for it."

Then his eyes widen and flit over your shoulder. His face closes down to a mask again. You turn and see Qui-Gon standing there.

The Master is gloriously naked, filling the doorway both physically and with the power of his presence. One hand clutches the molding around the archway above his head. His gaze rests squarely on Obi-Wan, his expression unreadable. Out of the corner of your eye you see Obi-Wan turn and grip the railing, staring outward again.

"I see you as more than a project, Obi-Wan," the Master says quietly.

"As you say, Master," comes the soft reply.

Qui-Gon crosses the balcony in two long strides and stands at his apprentice's elbow. He puts a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. You see the young man flinch slightly at the contact. He does not turn around.

"You only say that when you disagree with me but don't want to argue," Qui-Gon says. You hear a smile in his voice.

"You're right. I don't wish to argue. Let it die. Please."

"I can't do that, Padawan."

"Qui-Gon," you say, reaching out to touch both of them. Qui-Gon turns to look at you. His eyes seem at once sad and wise, and your heart goes out to him.

He sees your imploring look and shakes his head. "I can't just let it die," he says regretfully. "Obi-Wan means too much to me."

Obi-Wan turns slowly, his eyes rising to meet his Master's. A frown creases his brow, and the tension in his body is making him tremble. He seems like a trapped animal, trying to decide whether to fight or flee. Qui-Gon's hand comes up, slowly, and he cups Obi-Wan's face in his palm. Obi-Wan's eyes close, his mouth goes slack. "I have been a fool," the Master rumbles.

You hold your breath, waiting for the moment to play itself out. Obi-Wan is utterly still except for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Qui-Gon bends, slowly, gently, until his mouth covers Obi-Wan's. At the touch, the young man stumbles back with a moan until his spine is against the rail. Qui-Gon follows, still kissing him, and Obi-Wan melts against him. Qui-Gon reaches out to steady him, holding him by the face as the kiss lingers, a gentle touch of lips, nothing more, but it seems to stop the world for a moment.

At last Qui-Gon pulls away, straightening and letting Obi-Wan go. Obi-Wan's eyes flutter open. The frown is gone. He looks dazed, and he is quite literally swaying on his feet.

"We need to talk," Qui-Gon says. He looks at you. "All of us."

You nod, and Obi-Wan says, "Yes, Master," in the most seductive voice you've ever heard.

Qui-Gon's hands clench for an instant. "I'll make tea," he says.

In a few minutes, you are all ranged about the common room. You feel a bit awkward, wondering if you should be here, but Qui-Gon indicates with a look that he'd like you to stay. He's put on some sleep pants, but the soft fabric leaves little to the imagination. You have exchanged the sheet for your Jedi cloak, with nothing underneath, making you a matched set with Obi-Wan. The lights are dim, and Qui-Gon has put a soothing nature-sound audio disk on low. Sexual tension hangs in the air like smoke in a cantina.

Obi-Wan holds his cup in both hands, warming himself. His eyes flit about the room, then settle on Qui-s the room to Qui-Gon and kneels, placing his hands on his Master's knees. It is supplication and seduction all in one, and you feel arousal stirring again at the sight. From the looks of things, you are not the only one.

"Master," Obi-Wan says in that smoky voice of his. "I never thought to have even this much from you. If you say we should go no further, I will be content with what I have. Only know that I love you, truly, as a man and not as a child."

"I know that now, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon says huskily. He reaches out to card his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair. "And I love you, too, though not in the way you would wish."

Obi-Wan sighs and lays his head on Qui-Gon's knee; the Master continues to pet him. "Long ago I swore off that sort of love," Qui-Gon says. "Lezli understands ... don't you?"

You nod. This is a conversation you had years before, and you are both in agreement. A working Jedi does not have the luxury of commitment to anything outside the Order, even another Jedi. You eagerly live, laugh, learn, love together with joy -- but no possessiveness, no exclusivity, no expectations for the future.

"Live in the Moment," you say.

"I understand," Obi-Wan murmurs against Qui-Gon's leg. "And I am willing to give you whatever you want, for as long as you want, with no expectations for more. Ever."

Qui-Gon groans softly and shifts, Obi-Wan's words and his proximity having their predictable effect. His hand stills on Obi-Wan's head, then leaves it altogether to rest on the couch beside his thigh. He takes a shaky breath. "I have to admit, I've not been this tempted in a long time to go against my better judgement."

"Live in the Moment," Obi-Wan whispers. He nuzzles his head deeper into Qui-Gon's lap, brushing against the renewed hardness evident through the cloth.

Qui-Gon's head falls back against the top of the couch as he growls deep in his chest, but his hands stay at his sides. "Obi-Wan --"

You have to stifle a groan yourself as you feel the flesh between your legs grow moist and heavy.

"I want this in me," Obi-Wan interrupts hoarsely. He rises on his knees and cups Qui-Gon's erection in his palm. "Deep inside me," he says, and bends to flick his tongue on a plump nipple. "Say you don't want it, too, and I'll stop."

"Ohhhhh ..." Qui-Gon moans. He bites his lip, throws one arm up behind his head and spreads his legs wantonly as Obi-Wan strokes him and suckles him. His eyelashes flutter, and with a choked whisper he pleads, "Wait. Oh, wait, Padawan, please ..."

Obi-Wan sits back on his heels, breathing raggedly, waiting.

Qui-Gon's eyes open to slits. "I ... I'm sorry. I need more time. I can't think ... I need to think ..."

Obi-Wan closes his eyes and swallows heavily. "Whatever you need, Master." He rises gracefully. "Perhaps I should go to bed." He crosses to his door, then turns to look at you. He is beautiful in the dim light, his brown cloak falling open to reveal smooth, pale skin and a rampant erection. "Good night, Lezli."

Your heart aches for him. Actually, your whole body aches for him. Feeling very vulnerable, you ask softly, "Would you ... I know I'm not your first choice, but ... I could come with you ... If you want ..." You know you are babbling, and you close your mouth firmly.

His eyes flicker to his Master. "Don't mind me," Qui-Gon says huskily. "I'm going to sit here and try not to spontaneously combust."

The humor makes you smile. You see a glint of mischief in Obi-Wan's eyes as he looks from his Master back to you, and you realize with relief that he is not upset. He holds out his hand, and you shake your head, letting your cloak fall open and spreading your legs slightly in invitation.

He locks eyes with you and approaches, slowly, carefully, never taking his eyes from you as he kneels before you and pushes your knees apart. Finally he lets his gaze wander over your body. His focus on you is absolute, almost palpable, and you realize he has made a real effort to banish Qui-Gon from his thoughts ... to banish everything from his thoughts except making love with you. It is a consideration you had not expected, and you feel yourself flush with heat. He leans forward, taking your mouth in a slow, deep kiss. "What would you like?" he murmurs, fingers rubbing your nipples into hard peaks.

Your mind is a hash of desire. You don't want to ask too much, but a mental picture slips out ...

He chuckles. "Mmm," he mumbles, and slips down to bury his face between your legs. The first swipe of his slick tongue across your swollen clitoris makes you shudder and moan. He grasps your hips and tugs you until you are slumped in the chair so that he has total access to your mound. His tongue makes its way quickly over and around your labia, all the way down to probe deep inside you and then back, massaging the wet folds with skillful strokes over and over again. His hands rub up your thighs, over your hipbones, and up to your breasts where they fondle and pinch you into an agony of excitement. You feel the dizzy spiral of impending orgasm and groan loudly.

He sits back, breaking contact with you. "Wuh?" you mutter.

He takes your calves in his hands and rises to his knees, pulling your ankles up to rest on his shoulders. In one smooth stroke he enters you, filling you to the brim and banging up against your back wall. He withdraws and thrusts again. You manage to open your eyes long enough to look at him; his face is crumpled in concentration, eyes closed, lips parted on little moans of pleasure as his body rocks into yours. He is so beautiful, the sight of him pulls your over the edge, and you shout as you come.

Immediately he shifts, pressing forward until your ankles slip down over his biceps. His arms catch you behind the knees and bend you double, splaying you open and deepening the penetration even as his mouth covers yours in a passionate kiss. He swallows your moans, holding you down and pumping in and out of you as you spasm around him.

Suddenly he stops moving. His mouth releases yours, opening into a surprised 'O,' and his eyes glaze over as a loud groan escapes him. At first you think he is climaxing, but then you lift your eyes and see Qui-Gon on his knees behind the younger man. One large hand is splayed over Obi-Wan's lower back, and the other is busy further down.

You are still coming, the spasms growing weaker and shorter as your body squeezes Obi-Wan's full, hot penis. "Oh, ohhhhhh ..." Obi-Wan moans, his hips utterly still.

"Someone's already prepared you," Qui-Gon's voice rumbles roughly.

"Oh, yes, oh, yes, yes, yes ..." Obi-Wan babbles. He lays his cheek upon your shoulder and moans, his breath a hot puff against your neck. He releases first one and then the other of your legs down to wrap about his waist. "Are you all right?" he whispers shakily.

"Fine," you manage to utter around a lump in your throat. You tighten your legs about him. "Stay inside me."

"Mmm ..." he purrs. Qui-Gon shifts behind him, and Obi-Wan lets out a little gasp. His heart is pounding against your chest. "That's good ..." he breathes.

"Ohh ... you are so tight," Qui-Gon says through gritted teeth. "Am I hurting you?"

"No. More, harder ... all the way ... oh, yes! YES!" Obi-Wan's body moves against yours, pressing his penis deeper into you as Qui-Gon begins to thrust. "Ahhhh ..." Obi-Wan groans loudly. "Oh, Force ... I won't  ... ahhhh ... be able to .... uh, ah ... hold out long ... ohhh .... Master, Master ..."

"Obi-Wan ... ahhh ..." Qui-Gon is thrusting hard now, his head thrown back, teeth bared in a grimace. He is driving Obi-Wan into you, pounding you both in a hard rhythm. "Stay with me, Padawan."

"Ahh, ahhhh ..." Obi-Wan pants. He grips you tightly and buries his face in your neck, his chest rubbing against yours with every stroke. Deep inside, you can feel his penis grow even harder and fuller. He is trembling now, on the edge of release, and even without a direct connection to him you can feel love and ecstasy pouring from his mind, lighting up the Force around you all.

Qui-Gon increases his rhythm. At the same time he leans forward and tugs on Obi-Wan's braid, drawing his face around and taking his mouth in a kiss. They are both moaning uncontrollably now, and so are you as you watch their tongues sliding in and out of each other's mouths. Suddenly Obi-Wan's body stiffens, then he begins to jerk, shouting, "Oh, yes! Qui-Gon! Yes, Master! Yes! Yes!" His penis pulses hard inside you, and you feel the hot liquid coat your channel. The feeling sends you over the edge again, and you throw back your head and howl.

Qui-Gon's thrusts become erratic, and then he, too, is shouting his completion. He thrusts a few more times, then slumps over Obi-Wan's back, looking spent. "Thank you," he rumbles. He bends to kiss Obi-Wan briefly. Then his mouth seeks yours; the kiss is long and gentle, unhurried, utterly pleasurable. He bears most of his weight with his hands on the arms of the chair.

Obi-Wan is still shuddering between you, breathing in little gasps like sobs. With alarm you realize your shoulder is getting wet. You pull back from Qui-Gon's kiss and crane your neck to see tears leaking from Obi-Wan's closed eyes.

Qui-Gon uses the arms of the chair to leverage himself up off the two of you. He kneels next to you, circling one hand gently on Obi-Wan's back. "Have I hurt you, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan sniffles and shakes his head. "No, I ..." With an effort, he pulls away from you, gasping slightly as his penis slips from your body. He sits back on his heels, wincing. You struggle to sit up as well. "I'm sorry," Obi-Wan is saying in a small voice. "I'm just a little overwhelmed, I guess. It's all right." He swipes his hand across his eyes.

Qui-Gon stands, and Obi-Wan does likewise. They are not looking at each other. You have a bad feeling about this. You hold out a hand, and Qui-Gon helps you to your feet.

"I guess I'll be getting to bed, then," Obi-Wan says softly.

Qui-Gon pats him on the shoulder. "See you in the morning, Padawan. Sleep well."

"Now wait just a blasted minute!" You glare at Qui-Gon. "Since when have you ever sent a lover, even a casual bed partner, off to sleep alone?"

Qui-Gon closes his eyes as if pained.

"It's all right, Lezli," Obi-Wan says quietly. "I think I understand." He turns to Qui-Gon. "With the powerful bond we share ... the intimacy is ... too much, too soon."

Qui-Gon nods, his face filled with regret.

A sad smile flits at the corner of Obi-Wan's mouth. "Well ... good night, Lezli. Good night, Master." He turns to leave.

Qui-Gon's head is tilted, his jaw set in a way that is utterly familiar to you. "Wait," he says roughly.

Obi-Wan freezes, but does not turn around.

"I must admit, I wasn't ready for this. I shouldn't have allowed it to happen. Be that as it may ... Obi-Wan, please look at me."

Obi-Wan turns, plants his feet in a wide stance and folds his arms. His eyes are shining with an equal mixture of affection and sorrow.

"Be that as it may, I cannot ... that is to say, I don't want ..."

You have never seen the Master at a loss for words before. He swallows convulsively. "I ..." He reaches out, almost pleading.

Obi-Wan unfolds his arms and takes his Master's hand in his. "It's all right, Master. I meant what I said. I won't ask for more than you want to give." He steps forward and presses a kiss to Qui-Gon's palm, then moves the hand to cup his own face. "You've given me so much already."

Qui-Gon bends and presses his forehead to Obi-Wan's. His hands slide to rest on the younger man's shoulders. Eyes closed, they look almost as if they are meditating. You can get nothing from them through the Force, though they are obviously communicating at some level. "Thank you for understanding," Qui-Gon whispers at last.

"I love you," Obi-Wan says softly. He turns and walks away. The bedroom door slides closed behind him.

Qui-Gon stares after him a moment. When he finally turns to look at you, a smile crinkles the corner of his eyes. "The Council was right, you know."

"What?"

"You _are_ a troublemaker. Come, let's go to bed. I have much to think about."

END - for now