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Archive: MA, or ask me
Category: Q/O, PWP
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A massage leads to sex. Doesn't it always?
Disclaimer: George's characters, not mine.
Feedback: Yes please
Note: Lots of thanks to my Master Cuimne who helped get this into shape. Master, and I couldn't do this without you.
I feel like I completely belong to him. The room is quiet and dimly lit, the peaceful glow coming from a group of scented candles, their aroma musky and heavy. I am lying face down on a well-cushioned couch, completely naked while my Master works his relaxing magic on my body.
I am so relaxed I am melting into the couch. His hands are soothing, sliding over my arm, the sweet smelling oil a warming spicy mix. Such large, strong hands, yet so gentle when he treats me to this.
He knows how tense I have become during this mission, the stress telling on both of us. Factions brought together to negotiate their differences when neither side want anything to do with the other but to destroy them. Well, not those who were taking part in the negotiations, they merely did the shouting and threatening. The destroying and being destroyed would be a long way from them. I sigh, and he understands. He offered to do this for me this evening and though I argued half-heartedly, I gave in. He knows I will do the same for him soon.
He has pulled and loosened all the joints in my hand. It feels wonderfully lax as he moves to begin on my other arm, starting at the shoulder.
My eyes are closed, but I begin to see a reflection of the hand stroke patterns in the colours behind my eyelids - the patterns of the currents in the Force. But it is not just "seeing"; I sense the patterns - the energy which surrounds and fills every living thing. In this room, now, the pattern is calm and slow, swelling colours of blues and greens, myself and my Master. His hands on me, my body given over to him, the two colours become many, intertwined and joining together, no longer separate.
I am aware of my body. My breathing, the feel of the soft padded couch under me and my heavy limbs. His hands have started on my legs, easing the tired, stressed muscles to blissful comfort. I am aware of him. The powerful muscles of his arms flexing as he pushes on to my thighs, hard pressure on the up stroke, gently back. He is content to do this for me, no - he is happy. I can feel his pleasure in touching me, and I know he feels my deep joy, my love for him.
My feet, even my toes, receive his attention. His fingers leave me tingling, relaxed but expectant, energy beginning to build.
More oil, applied to my back and shoulders. The pressure is firm, teasing out the knots in muscles and the joints of my spine. I cannot help but sigh into his touch, and can even feel his smile. "Is that good, my love?" he whispers.
"Mmmm," is my answer. "You are so good to me, Master."
His hands move to my buttocks, a delicious warmth spreading out to my whole body. Pressing and kneading the flesh, he is also pushing me into the cushions. I can feel myself hardening, and know he senses my arousal. Sexual energy is building in the Force around us.
"I thought you were tired, Padawan," he chuckles.
"I was, Master. No longer."
His hands are wide on my buttocks, thumbs inwards, spreading me open. I am pushing upwards into those hands, those thumbs. I cannot help the groan, and the "Please!" His hands leave me for a moment - more oil, and I gasp as it trickles down from the small of my back into the cleft, followed by his fingers. He bends over me, placing a gentle kiss on back, between my shoulder blades, as his fingers move lower and press against my opening.
My breathing is becoming heavier, gasping, the muscles in my arms tensing again as I grip the sides of the couch and again try to push him into me. I just know what he is going to say next. "Patience, Padawan." Of course, always a lesson, even in this. I force myself to relax again, trying to deepen my breathing, calm the excitement building inside me evident in the energy of the Force.
I know he is as aroused as I am. Even if I were not as closely bonded to him as I am, the erotic power around and within him would be obvious to any Force sensitive. But through the bond I feel desire and need along with his almost overwhelming love for me.
My Master, how I love you.
His fingers begin to move again, pressing against me, slipping inside me. Gently at first, only one finger, then almost all the way back out. Back inside, deeper this time. Keeping still, I allow him to prepare me, but all I want to do is press up to him, feel more, need more. And he gives me more, two fingers stretching me. His other hand is stroking down my back, circling, soothing.
"Now, please," I cannot help it. Control is almost gone. At last he withdraws the fingers and I whimper. I can feel him kneel on the couch behind me, between my legs, opening me wider.
His hands on my hips, he pulls me up towards him, on to my knees. I rest my head on my arms - a few seconds wait while he applies more oil, this time to himself. That beautiful hard full cock covered in sweet-smelling oil waiting to push into me, to fill me, to take me and pound me. I realise I am babbling, pleading with him.
A breath of laughter from him. "So impatient, my Obi-Wan." He is pressing himself against me, opening, pushing in. So big - always these first few seconds give me this sweet pain, stretching me, slowly.
The Force is virtually singing around us, the mounting pleasure and the love between us reflecting in its patterns.
I am totally his. I would do anything for this man. His to do with as he wishes.
He pulls out, to push back in again faster this time, and deeper. I am groaning my pleasure, love, desire, and he is speaking to me quietly, still in control of his arousal, calling me his love, his own.
"Please!" The word torn from me. He knows what I need and complies. Faster strokes into me, at last hitting that spot deep inside me that makes me shudder as the pleasure jolts through me. "Yes!"
His fierce grip on my hips pulls me towards him with every stroke, and I can hear his panting breaths. Ah, Master, even your control is slipping.
One hand slides from my hip to reach around me, his large strong hand, callused fingers, at last gripping my erection and stroking along firmly, getting faster to match the powerful rhythm he is setting with his hips as he pumps himself into me. This is what I need, this is where I want to be, this is all I know. My own hips are bucking, into his hand and back on to his cock. I am screaming, every muscle in my body tightened, my balls pull almost painfully tight. I am ready. Ready. Now. Yes!
The room disappears. Everything but that beautiful explosion from my groin, pouring out of me, waves of pleasure. My knees give way and I am flat on the couch, still shuddering with after-shocks and he is still pounding into me. My muscles are clamping his cock tightly into me and he is coming, screaming my name, one hand still holds on to my cock the other gripping my hip as he is lying on top of me. His body shudders against mine mashing me into the couch, sweat as well as oil making us slide together giving me more after-shocks of pleasure.
Both of us are panting, lost together, eyes closed, as exhaustion begins to catch up. I could not open my eyes if I tried, and I have no intention of trying. I feel sleep taking me, my breathing returning to normal. He moves slightly to get off me, but I mumble a no, so he remains covering my body with his own, and I know he too is near sleep. Murmured endearments between us, love and peace filling and surrounding us. We are together, that is all that matters. The galaxy, the Jedi Council, this world, can look after themselves. My lover and I will sleep together, for now with no cares.