Archive: M_A, SWAL, my homepage and The Nesting Place only; all
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Disclaimer: Lucas owns 'em, and I use 'em, lots.
Summary: Two wet Jedi stranded on a desert island with a
coconut. Hey, it's Beth's fault. (Thanks for the title, Beth!)
Authors' Notes: This is a response to Beth's story challenge;
not a bit of angst anywhere to be found in it, and there's
actually a stab at humor. Just wanted to see if I could. Not
sure if I did!
Feedback: is always welcome.
"I don't believe this is happening," Obi-Wan moaned, attempting
to wring out his sodden robes. "Miles from anywhere, between
two continents, and our boat sinks."
"And our comlink with it," Qui-Gon reminded him, as he stood
dripping on the sand.
Disgusted, Obi-Wan dropped the wet fabric of his robe and stood
with his hands on his hips. At any other time, he might have
been impressed with the natural beauty of his surroundings. The
beach they'd washed up on was a pure white, so white it was
blinding. The sound of waves rolling gently up onto the beach,
painting the sand a dark brown as they receded, was all that
broke the natural stillness. A thousand shades of blue and
green rippled through the shallow waters nearest the beach,
sparkling and shimmering.
A pleasant, rather balmy sun shone down on them, causing their
clothes to steam. Qui-Gon fixed his gaze on his bedraggled
apprentice; the robes were stretching under the weight of the
water, and were making Obi-Wan appear much like a tiny
half-drowned Alderaanian swamp rat. A slow grin crossed his
face and was not missed by Obi-Wan, who glared ferociously at
him, only increasing the comparison to a predator in a puddle.
Ignoring Obi-Wan's baleful look, Qui-Gon suggested, "Best strip
out of those clothes and hang them up to dry; they're all we
have until help comes." He began to do just that, without
waiting to see if Obi-Wan obeyed.
"Who knows when that will be," Obi-Wan muttered, yanking at his
robe first, then his tunic, and slinging them around a tree
branch which jutted out over the sand. The heavy fabric picked
up momentum and flew around the branch like a boomerang,
smacking him in the eye. He yelped his protest, and heard a
strangled snort from behind him which might have been a laugh.
His face darkened with irritation as he pulled off one boot,
hopping in place in the sand, and emptied it of water before
moving to the other boot. His hands slipped beneath the
waistband of his leggings, and he pulled them down briskly,
bending over to tug them off his feet.
"Very hairy."
"Excuse me, Master?" Startled, Obi-Wan lost his balance and
pitched over onto the sand. He scooted around and turned to his
nude Master, who was studying some sort of fuzzy brown fruit
with a thoughtful expression on his face.
"This fruit, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied innocently, pointing to
the small hard object. "I wonder if it's edible."
Obi-Wan's eyebrow arched. "Let me see it," he demanded, trying
to keep his eyes from straying to his Master's growing
erection.
Qui-Gon tossed the little brown ball to him. The muscles of his
Master's body contracted and moved sinuously as he threw it,
and Obi-Wan was distracted, right up until the coconut cracked
him in the head.
"Ow!" he complained, rubbing the instant bump over his eye.
"Are you injured, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon's voice sounded definitely
amused.
"No," Obi-Wan said indignantly. His Master knelt beside him,
solicitously examining the beginnings of a bruise on his
Padawan's forehead. Those large hands touched his face, moved
down until they rested on his shoulders. He caught his breath
as Qui-Gon leaned closer, ever closer...and reached past him to
pick up the fruit, using Obi-Wan to brace himself as he
extended his arm.
"It's too hard to open with bare hands," Qui-Gon observed,
settling back beside Obi-Wan on the sand. "Perhaps with a
saber." His lightsaber leaped into his outstretched fingers a
moment later. He ignited the device and set it to lowest power,
and carefully cut into the coconut. The husk gave way,
drenching Qui-Gon with clear fluid which smelled...wonderful.
Intoxicated, Obi-Wan watched the liquid trickling down the flat
stomach, down across the nest of curls beneath, across the now
rigid cock. "Let me get that," he breathed, and before Qui-Gon
could protest, he descended between his Master's legs, tongue
running down the inside of the thigh, tasting the sweet juice
briefly before licking up the length of Qui-Gon's cock. He set
to work slowly, moving at a leisurely pace as he tasted the
base, swirling his way up and down, taking only the tip of his
Master inside his mouth before moving away again.
Qui-Gon lay back on the hot, scratchy sand and closed his eyes
as Obi-Wan teased him, lapping at him with a tongue that seemed
longer and more versatile than he remembered. Small grunts of
pleasure floated out into the tropical air, growing closer
together as Obi-Wan's fingers spread Qui-Gon's legs apart,
exposing him. Qui-Gon dug his heels into the sand and reached
up with one hand, guiding Obi-Wan's pace as his hips arched up,
seeking ecstasy. A warm hand wrapped around him, stroking and
applying pressure in all the areas that incredible mouth was
neglecting.
Obi-Wan looked up at his Master, drawn by the erotic sight of
his Master's eyes on him, and watched his Master swallow hard
as Obi-Wan sucked harder, dragging his Master into his complete
control. Qui-Gon's eyes fluttered closed, and his head tilted
back, as his free hand clutched at shifting sand beneath him.
"We won't go hungry here," Obi-Wan said softly. The vibration
of the words tickled Qui-Gon, and he smiled as pure bliss
pressed at the edges of his control. Obi-Wan took Qui-Gon
deeply into his throat, and allowed Qui-Gon to move beneath
him, indulging the joy which was burning for release. A quick
press of teeth to flesh; a gentle intrusion of a finger
sweeping up against hidden delight, and Qui-Gon shouted, frozen
in place as waves of intense rapture shivered through him.
Obi-Wan's efficient tongue cleaned his Master thoroughly, then
freed him from the wicked prison of his Padawan's mouth. He
laid his head on his Master's stomach for a moment, grinning as
he listened to Qui-Gon's ragged breathing slow.
A sudden quick application of strength, and Qui-Gon had Obi-Wan
pinned, surprising him and claiming him with lips that demanded
he open beneath them. He surrendered to them, accepting the
languid caress as his Master collected back the taste of
himself.
"It's about time we had a few days to ourselves," Qui-Gon
observed, before getting to work on his Padawan's most pressing
problem, and before coherent thought left him, Obi-Wan had to
moan his complete and total agreement.
End
Fluffy, short and simple...I now have a craving for a Mounds
candy bar. <g> Feedback welcome at destinaf@hotmail.com
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