Master
Apprentice  Archive
Padawan Crush
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"So what else is new, Kenobi?" Ostensibly bored, but far too curious to yawn out loud at her table-mate, Padawan Bant Eeerin delicately raised one webbed hand to her mouth and drew a dainty breath while stirring the steaming cup of cha with the other.
"What do you mean? Bant, this is... this is nothing like anything that's ever happened in this universe!"
Bant hastily buried her face in the huge brown cup they had liberated from the Temple's cafeteria, burned her deep turquoise lips and came away with an expression that was half agony, half smirk. Quite appropriate for the situation really. "Obi-Kenobi, you've been having crushes on assorted girls since the day you found out what the word meant. I venture to say if you lined up all the females in the Temple that you considered the one and only at one time or another, you'd get a queue from here to the Rock Garden!" And that was quite a long way away, not to mention about twenty storeys down from where they were currently seated, on a pair of half-squashed sitting bags in the Mon Calamarian's room. Obi-Wan blushed furiously.
"May I remind you, _Senior Padawan_ Kenobi, of the day you came to me all beady-eyed and heat-flushed and confessed your undying love for Master Gallia? A _Councillor_? And some twenty years older than you? Fortunately you saw sense only two weeks later. When Master Gallia was suddenly replaced by that black-skinned Padawan with the knack for purple robes... what was her name again..."
Obi-Wan blushed a deeper shade of crimson as he realised he couldn't remember either. "That was... that was just a passing fancy, Bant. This is... more."
"Oh right," she clearly wasn't buying any of it. "I seem to remember you saying that at the time, of course you added her name back then. And you said the same about Master Gallia before that, and about Padawan DaHlia, and Knight Absey, and the Fewath sisters, in order of age. Not to mention Master Ru. Honestly, Kenobi. sometimes I think the only female in the Temple you haven't had a crush on yet is me. And possibly Master Yaddle. I hope."
Obi-Wan giggled at the ludicrous concept, despite his flushed face and increasing discomfort at Bant's diatribe.
"And don't come over all cute and kittenish, Kenobi. I know you're a damn coward about all this. Well over two dozen crushes on the most beautiful, powerful, or just plain outlandish Jedi women in the Temple, and when have you ever actually _done_ anything about it? Not a single time. Forget it, Kenobi, I won't believe this one until I catch you at least holding hands with her!" She slapped him on the shoulder in a friendly fashion, leaving a moist fin-print on the Padawan's tunic.
"There, now you're ruined my evening. That'll have to go in the wash, and I was _just_ plucking up courage to ask her out tonight."
"Hah! Be my guest -- I'm sure I can find a clean tunic for you. So, who's the lucky one this time? Humanoid I take it, if she's got hands to hold?"
"Human. The most gorgeous.... Bant, she's impossible to describe. I've seen her so many times, and my words still fail me every time I pass her..."
"Make it rhyme and she might buy it. If she's that way inclined."
"I hear she wrote poetry when she was a Padawan... there's some in the library apparently..."
"When she was a Padawan? So you've got your sights set on a Knight once again? Go on then, tell me. See if I can match your glowing descriptions to any of the real women here in the Temple.... so, size, shape, hair colour, eyes, voice... fire away."
"Um... tall. Impossibly tall for a woman. Quite a span taller than me actually, and powerful. Long sleek limbs, muscled but feminine. The curves beneath those tunics..."
"Ever actually seen them?"
Obi-Wan blushed deep crimson. "Uh-huh."
"Ah. So it's someone you know. Seen her in the shower, eh? Go on then... sexy?"
Obi-Wan sighed, a deep sigh that would have made Bant shudder to the bone if it hadn't been for her entirely cartilaginous skeleton. "Perfection poured into human form, Bant. Firm. Long lines. Light bronze skin. Dark brown velvet nipples..."
"Stop. I'd like you to keep your leggings clean at least. A brunette, then? Long hair or short?"
"Long. All the way down her back, thick and silky, silver highlights shimmering in it... she wears it tied back most of the time, but only the top half, away from her face. I've seen her spar, and the way her hair trails behind her is just unearthly. Fluid grace, Bant. How someone as tall as that can be so elegant is completely beyond me. And she's not usually fussy about elegance. Never seen her in anything but standard-issue tunics and robes, never wears make-up, not even out-of-Temple. Not that she needs it..."
"Naturally pink lips?" Bant quirked a brow-rift and pouted, showing off her decidedly unsexy turquoise ones.
"More a warm rosewood shade. Soft. Soft in the middle of a hard face, all long lines, aristocratic... aquiline."
Bant grinned at the sudden enlargement of her friend's vocabulary. "That's poetese for 'big nose', yeah?"
"Well.. I suppose it's big, yes. But a small one would look silly in that face. She's just...everything about her is large, sweeping. Warm low voice. Broad brushstroke brows. Eyes. The eyes, Bant. Deep summer sky blue. Piercing. Shining. Stare right through me every time."
"Oh? So you've caught her attention already?"
"Yeah, well, it happens. I'm... not that easy to overlook, being the noisy bugger I am."
"Been singing in the shower again, have you? I told you, Kenobi, you could always opt for a career on the stage if you fail your Trials. So, why not serenade her again tonight?"
"I -- I can't, Bant."
"Why not? What's keeping you? From your description, even I would be intrigued to take that fabulous woman out for dinner, and you know me, I'm about the least lesbian creature on all of Coruscant! Hells, even I could think of a few nice chat-up lines for someone like that... and you're not exactly charmless yourself, Kenobi!" She gave him a good-natured nudge in the ribs.
"Yeah, well, but... but I'm so scared of embarrassing myself... she makes me feel so... so small, you know? So... inadequate."
"Huh, Knights! Has she ever actually said something to that effect? Looked down on you? I mean, apart from the obvious height difference?"
"No, but..."
"No 'but'! Don't give me that shit again, Kenobi! And if you're not keen on _my_ advice as a female, who not go ask your Master? She's well into her 50s by now, so she should qualify as an experienced woman as far as relationships are concerned. And she's probably quite past it too, and a welcome impassive voice of reason. Frankly, I can't see her approving of how you shy away from a mere Knight..."
Bant's voice trailed off at the withering glare Obi-Wan was giving her. Then it dawned on her, and the fierce determination in Kenobi's features only confirmed the shocking suspicion.
"Oh no, Obi. It's not... her? Your Master? But... you know it's not impossible... all the Code says is that any relationship between a training pair must be consensual and initiated by the Padawan... and... I mean, really? Your Master? You've got a crush on..."
Sighing, Obi-Wan nodded. "Qui-Tan Jinn."
All thoughts of negotiating for clean tunics and persuading his gorgeous Master to go out for late-meal were scuppered in an instant when his commlink had chimed, and the cheerful low voice of his Master had asked him for the doubtless interesting adventure story that was keeping him from turning up for their regular sparring session. He had jumped up as if stung by a wasp, made his goodbyes to Bant and raced down to the training salle, where he arrived in an appropriately sweaty and warm state, only to be greeted by Master Jinn halfway through her warm-ups.
"Thought you'd never make it," she grinned while stretching her long body luxuriously, "not keen on Force-speed today, are we? Tell me all about her later, okay?" Without further ado, she unclipped her lightsabre and activated it, a deep green blade flaring into life pointing at Obi-Wan's heaving chest. Unthinking, he whipped his 'sabre out and parried. Let the dance begin.
Sharp swings and swirling blows rained down on Obi-Wan, and he had a hard time keeping them away, let alone counter any of Qui-Tan's attacks. Just over twice his age, and a woman, and still so damn strong. He dodged a backhand swipe and lunged at her with all his weight, a double-handed blow easily blocked off by her flashing green blade. He saw the sinews standing out on her forearms and marvelled at the woman's sheer power. She took it hard, with the best of them. Add to that the deep connection to the Living Force, and she was a formidable opponent for anyone. Especially a distracted Padawan.
Minutes... hours? Lunge, thrust, rush, parry, spin... leap! Damn. She was just too fast. Combined with the reach of her longer arms and legs that was almost unfair. Almost. If it wasn't for the delicious imagination of just these long limbs twined around his own compact body, Qui-Tan holding him down tightly, plundering his mouth... gasping, Obi-Wan sat up from where she had elegantly thrown him down, and stared at her outstretched hands for a few seconds before realising she was offering to help him up.
"Something wrong, Obi-Wan? You seem... distracted. She didn't hurt you, did she?" The concerned look in those deep blue eyes was almost too much to bear, and Obi-Wan looked away in embarrassment, flushing deep pink. "I'm fine, Master, really... just a bit... tired. Can we adjourn?"
Qui-Tan smiled and brushed sweaty hair out of her face. "Oh, absolutely. You may not feel it yet, but you're wearing your old Master out more and more with every time. One of these days you'll be on top of me, Kenobi!" You wish, she added silently, hidden behind the luxury of a Jedi Master's shields.
Obi-Wan wiped his face with the sleeve of his undertunic, as much to dry the sweat as to hide his bright blush at the image that expression evoked in him. He was out of the salle and into the 'fresher in record time, and Qui-Tan was amazed to find he hadn't used any of the hot water in his shower. Tutting, she turned on the hot tap and luxuriated in the steamy spray. Second best to a certain young man's hands, she thought, and a guilt-free pleasure. At least until the freakin' Council decide to extend the Code to shower regulations.
When she came out of the 'fresher, all glowing and pink, rubbing her tangled hair with a small white towel, all Obi-Wan could do was retreat behind the half-open door of his room as quickly as possible to keep himself from moaning. Why did that woman insist on torturing him with the sight of her naked body, all that glorious taut muscle and smooth well-rounded flesh, as if he was made of stone? He had tried in vain to limit his roving gaze to the decent parts of her body, but... there were none really. Everything about her exuded sex, and that short bush of dark brown hair at the centre of her being was just too intriguing to look away... sighing, he willed himself to silence. Silence, at least. He prayed she wouldn't come in now and find him half-erect and blushing...
He thanked all the Small Gods minutes later when in fact she _didn't_ come in. Instead, she shouted through Obi-Wan's closed door, "I've got a meeting with the Initiate Education Committee, Obi-Wan. I expect they won't let me off before late-meal, so see you then, okay?"
Thank the Force she didn't catch me, Obi-Wan thought before going under in a lip-biting orgasm.
Late-meal. Fine. With nothing much else to do, and Bant's taunts still stinging the back of his mind, he decided he might as well cook. And cook for his life. And hers. Warm, wriggling life. All over him. He felt himself getting hard again, and resorted to chopping up a cucumber to cool himself down a little.
Now, what to do with the thing? He chopped listlessly while considering his options, until the cucumber was reduced to a cool green slush. He transferred that into a bowl and set off for the gardens, came back with a bunch of mint, a bulb of garlic, some thyme and something he had never heard the name of, but which looked pretty anyway, and reminded him of Qui-Tan's sinewy arms. Next, yoghurt. No, even better. Cream. Sour cream. Both. He stirred the thick silky sauce, already plotting the next move...
Three hours later, he wiped his hands on his beyond-redemption tunics and surveyed his handiwork. Deep-fried aubergines. Lamb casserole and braised ewka roots with some of the leftover thyme. Beans wrapped in their own leaves. Little packets of seaweed with fish eggs on top, luscious orange things that went 'pop' in your mouth in a most sensuous fashion. In the fridge, watermelon parfait with a dash of coriander. Definitely not something Qui-Tan had ever eaten before, if he said so himself. He'd made it up on the spot.
Another trip to the Gardens has procured armfuls of roses, some with stems, some without, scattered about the place in assorted receptacles and strewn all over the table and floor. She would most likely tell him off for making a mess of the floor, but it was worth it for the sight of Master Jinn walking on roses, crushing the delicate petals under her boots, or even better, her naked feet... feet he longed to fall at and kiss. Sighing, he lit the first of the dozens of candles he'd scattered about the room. Trite, he knew, but he loved the way real firelight flickered off the silver strands in her hair and contrasted the blue of her eyes, and she'd doubtless be amused.
Almost on cue, the sound of booted feet was heard outside, slowing down, then a palm slid over the keypad, and the door opened. Obi-Wan could just see his Master enter, robe slung over one shoulder, as he hid behind the door to his room once more.
"Padawan!!"
Silence. Cautiously, Qui-Tan took a few steps inside and stared at the carpet of roses under her feet. Throwing her robe onto a chair, she drew herself up to her full height and bellowed:
"Padawan, come here this instant! What is it you're trying to make up for this time??"
"Um...", he emerged from behind the door, half out of his soiled tunic. She'd caught him off-guard, definitely. Drawing on the Force, he barged on regardless.
"If this is a sin, then I plead guilty, Master..." With that, he launched himself at a stunned Qui-Tan and covered her mouth with his own, luxuriating in the surprised gasp from her and eating his fill, knowing that this may well be the last kiss he was ever going to get from this amazing woman...
What he hadn't dared hope was the fervour with which she kissed back, biting his lips and invading his yielding mouth with her tongue, kissing the breath out of him while holding him by his tunic, so tightly she almost tore the abused fabric. Obi-Wan wriggled a little, desperate for breath, and only succeeded in getting out of his tunic completely. Not out of his Master's grasp. A raging fury in the flickering candlelight, she ate him whole, and then some. He _was_ close to swooning when she let go, breathless herself, holding her liquefied Padawan up in one arm, by his waist.
He could do nothing but stare, stare up into those smouldering blue eyes and wonder at it all.
"And who am I to judge you, Padawan... a silly old Master like me. I never hoped to find love again really. Much less so in the arms of a dashing young Padawan like my own!" She hugged him close, almost toppling both of them over in the act, and the dashing young Padawan felt much like a puddle of something golden and viscous, and accordingly slithered down her gorgeous body, pooling at her feet. Qui-Tan guffawed.
"Oh, come on now, you don't mean that? Surely you've been kissed before, my impossible Obi-Wan?". When no answer was forthcoming, she knelt down and inspected the prone form of her Padawan. Yep, just regaining consciousness. He turned blissfully bleary eyes up at her and whispered, "Not like this. Ever. That was a... Master kiss."
"I've had time enough to practice, Padawan. Lest you forget I'm twice your age..."
"And no less amazing for it." He fondled her neck, slipped one hand into the vee of her tunics to cup one firm breast, small on Qui-Tan's impressive height, but the perfect size for his hand. "How long... ?"
"Oh, it took me a while to admit it to myself, Obi-Wan. About... six years, all in all?"
Obi-Wan blushed. "You've been faithful to a fantasy?"
"Wasn't that difficult, with you around to ogle on a daily basis, Padawan," she chuckled and pinched his cheeks, both the ones in his face and the rather fleshier ones on his bottom. "I take it you were fine-tuning your romantic skills meanwhile?"
He shook his head, rubbing against her chest. "Never... never came to anything. Bant was furious. Now..."
"Now," Qui-Tan said authoritatively, pulling her Padawan up to stand, "for some food. The smells are pure temptation, and I reckon we could do with the stamina, right?"
Obi-Wan just stared. Had she really just said that...?
Half an hour later, bowls and platters cleared of their delicious contents, Obi-Wan still wasn't sure as to what to say. They'd made polite conversation during late-meal as always, wits sparkling off each other, lit up by a new unfamiliar glow. Love? Was she feeling.... love for him?
"Stop mooning, Padawan, you're bleeding through your shields. Tell me, could someone as old and stubborn as me really keep up a mere crush for six years? I should think not." With that, she was upon him, wrestling him to the ground, covering his bare chest with hard kisses and light nips while pinning his arms at his sides. Delicious, to be held captive by this formidable woman... she beamed at the beatific expression on her Padawan's face, knelt over Obi-Wan's wrists and proceeded to throw handfuls of rose petals at him, rubbing them into his soft skin while grinding herself against his rising erection. Hot, hard, was all he could think, hot hands pinking his skin with the friction and painting it all shades of red and yellow from the crushed flowers, hard rubs against his most sensitive flesh, thick heavy pleasure pooling in his groin until he felt he was filled to the brim with hot throbbing liquid, and when she bent down to take his mouth and claim it in a devouring kiss all he could do was spasm uncontrollably in convulsions of lust and shoot his wet heat against her, through two layers of leggings.
"I do love you, Obi-Wan. And I want you. And I would love it if you too wanted to adjourn to my bed for the night..." The rest of her words was cut off by Obi-Wan's eager lips on hers, intent on returning at least a pale image of the intense pleasure she had given him.
Oh, she was beautiful. Every familiar inch of skin aroused him further as it was revealed under layers of tunics and leggings. Was he just imagining it or was his Master deliberately slowing down, strip-teasing for her Padawan something unholy? The erotic tension was unbearable, and he all but leapt out of his leggings and lunged at her, bringing the taller woman down on the bed with a surprise attack that knocked the wind out of her and had her writhing under him in a highly satisfactory way. She took it hard, didn't she? Delirious with desire, Obi-Wan covered her mouth with his once more, relishing the way her lips parted for him, and eating the hot breathy moan as he trailed one questing finger down her side, into the crease between hip and thigh, and down to the wiry bush of dark curls. He worked his way down slowly, tickling and massaging her delicate skin, ruffling the thick hairs, until his fingertips caught a touch of her wetness.
He was undone in an instant. Such silken smoothness, and so much of it... and so, so soaking wet for him. Gasping, he tore his mouth away from hers, relishing her whimper as he slid down her body, Padawan braid trailing over her heated skin. His fingers were still incredulous when he replaced them with his mouth, sucking gently, tasting Qui-Tan's sweet and tangy juices with the tip of his tongue. A deep moan erupted from her throat as he touched one particular spot, and he felt compelled to do it again, flicking just the tip of his tongue over the tiny nub while sucking on the fat slippery flesh all around it. She moaned and writhed under his ministrations, all semblance of the calm serene Jedi Master gone with the wind. He kept it up for tortuously long minutes, getting unbearably aroused by her needy whimpers and moans, and actually having to resort to his secret pressure point more than once to keep himself from coming... she was just too delicious, sprawled out on that bed, giving herself completely to his tongue... and she wanted more, and made it abundantly clear...
"Ooooohhh..... more! More, man, harder! Obi-Wan, rub me harder..." Grinning, he obliged, delighting in the sight of his Master begging for his touch. He rose up again and smiled down at her, hair dishevelled, braid half undone, angelic smile ringed with Qui-Tan's glistening juices, then fastened his mouth on one warm satiny nipple and rubbed that hot hard spot between her legs, spreading her wetness until his hand dripped and made little sucking noises at every stroke.
"Oooaaaaahh... moremoremore! Hard, Obi, harder, HARDER!!" Her hands fisted in his hair painfully as she pressed herself against his hand and yelled her release, breathless and desperate and so, so beautiful. He could feel her flesh contracting and a hot drop of cream trickling down his fingers as she fell back on the sheets, panting, trembling, spent and glowing.
"You _do_ take it hard, Master... would you like another... um, sample?" With that, Obi-Wan climbed back up on the bed and knelt astride her, languidly fisting his iron-hard cock with his now-slick hand. Qui-Tan purred, a noise lower than a moan, longer than breath, and so arousing Obi-Wan's penis reacted of its own accord and slid into the welcoming wet heat in one easy stroke. The moans never stopped, and it was over within a few thrusts, for both of them. Gasping, Qui-Tan rolled them on to their sides, Obi-Wan still inside her. "I...I don't think I quite got that, Padawan. I must have been, uh, not quite there. Care for another demonstration...?"
Obi-Wan pulled his Master into a tight hug and laughed into her shoulder until she felt tears streaming over her skin, tears of sheer bliss, relief, exhaustion. "No -- not exhaustion," he admonished her with a mock earnest expression. "You may have the advantage of experience over me, but I have the benefit of youth. Just you wait..." And as he set to work on his growing hardness once more, Qui-Tan could only thank the Force for the benefit of youth. What a perfect match, she thought, before going under in one of his breath-eating kisses once more.
The door chimed twice, with no response. Strange, thought Bant, and fidgeted with the package in her fin. Maybe he was in his room and couldn't hear it? Surely he couldn't have gone out after all? Not without a clean tunic?
"Obi-Wan! I've brought you a fresh tunic, mate! Obi?" Silence. Then, faint noises, like suppressed laughter and moans. "Kenobi! Are you in there??"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaoooooooohhhh.... yesssss!"
That had clearly not been Kenobi's voice. That had been... Master Jinn's.
"I take that as a 'yes'." For the first time since she'd known Obi-Wan, his friend Bant admitted defeat. Cheerfully, it had to be said.
--- The End ---