Master Apprentice
Archive
Tropical Fantasy
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"It's nice to have a day off, Master," Obi-Wan said to Qui-Gon, walking alongside him.
"Yes, it is." Qui-Gon smiled. "And I'm pleased you choose to call me that."
"You like it when I call you Master? It's been twelve years! Aren't you used to it yet?" Obi-Wan quirked a smile back in his direction.
Qui-Gon laughed. "Of course; perhaps that's why it pleases me." Then he turned serious. "But now that you're a Knight-Elect, I'm no longer your master. You walk by my side."
As if in illustration of his last statement, he reached towards Obi-Wan's ear. Obi-Wan didn't know what he was doing but held his head still. He felt Qui-Gon's fingers lightly grasp the root of his padawan braid. They both stopped walking.
Qui-Gon continued in a soft voice, "Until the Council arranges your trials I will enjoy your company on our remaining missions." He slid his hand down along the braid, his eyes fixed on its progress. "But your training is complete. You are ready to be a knight," he said as his fingers reached the end. "You don't need a master any more," he concluded very quietly.
He dropped the braid and set off quickly again. Obi-Wan was wondering if he had heard a quaver in that voice and had to jog a few steps to catch up.
"You still call Yoda Master," Obi-Wan reminded him, trying to lighten the mood.
"And I still call you Padawan. I always will. Unless you mind..."
"Not at all."
Obi-Wan did mind, though he didn't say so. He minded because he wanted Qui-Gon to stop thinking of him as his padawan. There were many other things he had imagined Qui-Gon would call him some day. He had known that wouldn't happen while he was still a padawan. But his now ex-master still hadn't approached him. Perhaps he simply didn't find him attractive. As a padawan he hadn't had to face that possibility. Oh well, he thought sadly. He still had his fantasies.
A big, strong arm wrapped around Obi-Wan's shoulders, drawing him close. The gesture was new but familiar; it was like having his stance corrected during a kata. Obi-Wan decided he must not be well-shielded and Qui-Gon had picked up on his sadness. Qui-Gon had always been such a good master, knowing when he most needed comfort.
Because of their height difference, it was too awkward for Obi-Wan to return the gesture. Instead he imagined he clasped Qui-Gon about the waist and they were a pair of lovers strolling along.
They came to the end of the nearly deserted main street that stopped abruptly at a completely deserted beach. Qui-Gon released him.
"It looks so different today," the younger man remarked, his gaze sweeping along the empty shoreline. "Not that I'm complaining," he added.
Obi-Wan had passed this beach frequently as he and his master travelled to and from the negotiations. It was extremely popular at all times. It was convenient, which was why they, or rather Qui-Gon, had chosen it. It was scenic, Obi-Wan conceded as he took in the sugar-sand shore being lapped at by lazy azur waves. It also apparently lived up to its name that meant something like "Lovers Meeting". The vending machines on the boardwalk were stocked with the variety of supplies one would expect at certain nightclubs.
"The natives celebrate this holiday privately, indoors, with their loved ones," Qui-Gon explained.
"I didn't think they did anything privately."
"Perhaps they enjoy the novelty today," Qui-Gon suggested as he spread out the large plasteel-colored blanket from his bed. He had insisted on bringing it. "Just as we might enjoy the novelty of a deserted beach," he added, fixing him with an enigmatic smile that Obi-Wan had never seen before.
Obi-Wan wondered about that smile, and also about the choice of location. He felt comfortable asking about the location.
"Isn't this a little far from the surf, Master?"
"The tide has already turned and it comes in rather far here. This way we won't have to move after getting settled."
"Then we'll be staying a long time?"
"Is there something else you'd rather do, Padawan? I'm afraid we can't go out to eat or see a vid due to the holiday."
Obi-Wan almost laughed. Dinner and a vid. It sounded like Qui-Gon would have taken him out on a date. If only!
"No, Master. I thought you might have something you needed to do."
"I have no other plans that I think are more important," Qui-Gon assured him as he tugged on one edge of the blanket to smooth out some wrinkles.
"Oh. Good."
Very good, in fact. He looked forward to a nice, long fantasy-fest in which he would shatter that masterly control. This beach would be the perfect setting. The sound of the waves and the heat from the sun would only add to the realism. And there would be no intrusive noises from other sunbathers. It was a perfect opportunity. Obi-Wan was contemplating whether he was in the mood for a blow job or an act he considered more intimate when he realized Qui-Gon had finished his arrangements and was now looking at him half-expectantly.
He stripped off his old half-tunic, folded it neatly, and tucked it into his pack. As he was straightening back up, Qui-Gon reached over and ran his hand along his left pectorals.
"I see you are still doing extra Light in the Sky katas," his ex-master noted, as though he were still directing his training.
Obi-Wan felt the blood rush to his face. Qui-Gon was so observant. He had been focusing his efforts on his upper body in order to compensate for his natural scrawniness.
"I find them helpful," he managed to reply.
Obi-Wan stepped out of his native sandals and lined them up at the edge of the blanket. He liked them pretty well and hadn't minded parting with some of his new stipend to buy them.
He was certain, however, that once off-planet he would never again wear the garishly patterned shorts or, Force help him, the swimsuit they were hiding. He had searched every stall in the busy marketplace yesterday, but the black lo-rise swimsuit was like the official uniform of this tropical paradise; he hadn't found any in a different color, let alone a different style.
Turning away, he steeled himself then slipped off the shorts. The way the stretchy swimsuit material cupped his cheeks was bad enough, but the way it contrived to channel his endowment front and center looked positively lewd. He pulled a towel out of his pack and replaced it with the shorts. He longed to sling the towel around his slim hips, but instead he placed it near his sandals for later use.
Qui-Gon's actions mirrored his own, as did his outfit, including the swimsuit. Looking at him, Obi-Wan could well appreciate why the locals were so taken with this particular fashion. He glanced furtively at the dusky nipples, nested in the light fur that covered the broad chest. His eyes followed the fur as it delineated the midline down the taut abdomen and across the puckered navel. It funnelled his attention lower still to where it began to thicken before the edge of the bathing suit finally intervened. Near that point, a different delineation picked up to mark Qui-Gon's midline. With a slight start, he pulled his eyes away and firmed up his shields.
"That suit looks good on you, Padawan," Qui-Gon observed, wearing his unfamiliar smile.
Obi-Wan suddenly noticed how hot it was. A part of him wanted to reply, "Not as good as yours does on you," but the rest of him clamped his mouth shut.
As the mid-day sun beat down on his near-naked body, he realized he had forgotten something important. Spying a bottle in Qui-Gon's open pack, he snatched it.
"I'm glad one of us has foresight, Master; I forgot to pack tanning lotion... would you like me to get your back?"
Unaccountably, Qui-Gon's mouth gaped open, fish-like, for a few seconds, then snapped shut again before he answered, "Of course. That would be most welcome."
Qui-Gon dropped into a kneeling position and lifted his long ash brown hair out of the way. Obi-Wan folded his legs behind and palmed open the bottle. As he squirted some onto his hand, a luscious smell of tropical fruits made his mouth water. He spread the slippery lotion, starting at the shoulders, and working his way down. He couldn't resist using massage-like motions, partly out of habit, and partly for his own enjoyment.
He loved kneading the firm back muscles and noted how the posture responded. The surf set his tempo, and he found himself swaying back and forth. The lotion intoxicated him and he caught himself at the closest point opening his mouth to taste the slick skin. Focus, he chided himself.
He continued on lower until he reached the small of the back. If he changed the motion a little, it would be a lover's stroking. He imagined the shivers that would run up the spine in response to that touch. Then he imagined more.
He slipped his hands around front to explore the navel while nibbling on a shoulder. He nuzzled his chest against the slick back, transferring some of the lotion. He scooted forward until his groin was flush with that shapely rear and pressed into it, wrapping his legs around those muscular thighs for leverage. He began to hump slowly, spooning and straightening, sliding his torso against the one in front of him.
Obi-Wan looked downward and realized the tide wasn't the only thing that was rising. He finished up and tossed the recapped bottle in Qui-Gon's lap. Then he quickly dropped onto his stomach near one end of the blanket.
Qui-Gon must have interpreted that as an implicit request, because he immediately straddled him. He kept most of his weight on his own knees, but rested a portion of it on Obi-Wan's rump. While Obi-Wan had used massaging motions to spread lotion, Qui-Gon made no pretense that he was doing anything other than giving a thorough backrub. He worked the well-toned muscles deeply. He rolled the shoulders and travelled up and down along the spine, rocking with his efforts. Spreading the lotion was completely extraneous.
With his nose pressed into the blanket, Obi-Wan caught a whiff of his ex-master's pungent soap, along with a faint undertone of his musk. He could not hold in all the moans that wanted to escape, due only in small part to the kinks being worked out of his back. The rocking motion provided friction for his stiffening member, inciting it further. Obi-Wan couldn't resist closing his eyes to flesh out the scene. He generally liked to start his fantasies off slow, but this oppo
rtunity was too good to miss. Qui-Gon was thrusting forcefully into him, groaning in exertion and pleasure. His body was covered in sweat, plastering his hair to his back and preventing it from flying about. With each lunge he showered drops of the sweat onto Obi-Wan's back. His hands pinned Obi-Wan's hips in place, preventing the pounding from pitching him forward. His noises resolved into words.
"So good!... So hot!... So tight!... Oh! Padawan!!!"
Obi-Wan's breath was forced from his body each time a stroke filled him. His own member, hard as plasteel, swung about like the arm of a shorted droid, smacking against his abdomen at nearly random angles. He couldn't spare a hand to stroke it, nor did he want to. Finishing up was the last thing he wanted.
Obi-Wan felt his cock's head breach the edge of his swimsuit and immediately his stimulation increased tenfold. Each motion stroked his sensitive ridge with the suit's lip. Oh, Force! How was he going to avoid making a mess on the blanket? He concentrated on strengthening his shields even further.
Just then, Qui-Gon seemed satisfied with his handiwork. He lifted himself off and stretched out quite close by.
With his fantasy aborted, Obi-Wan was unable to enjoy reality. His groin ached and he was determined not to reveal his arousal. He checked his shields, calmed his breath in the manner his master had taught him, and tensed his torso to prevent his hips from grinding into the blanket.
Obi-Wan looked into Qui-Gon's bright sky-blue eyes. Some of the discomfort he felt may have been evident on his face because Qui-Gon asked, "Would you like a drink, Padawan?"
"Very much, thank you," Obi-Wan replied truthfully. Qui-Gon would have to get up to fetch it, and the drink itself might help distract his body.
Qui-Gon busied himself at his pack for a minute and returned with two vividly red tumblers. He handed one to Obi-Wan then relaxed into a half-lotus. Obi-Wan remained plastered belly-down on the blanket. Drinking was a little difficult, but he was not about to sit up to make it any easier.
The drink was sweet and slushy. Its flavor was reminiscent of the smell of the lotion. And it was very alcoholic. So this was what Qui-Gon had been doing in the prep area earlier this morning.
"Very nice, Master," and though the compliment was sincere, it carried an overtone of query.
Catching the tone, Qui-Gon replied, "I thought it might help us relax. That's not something we've practiced much."
"The council must agree with you, to send us on this junket! I'm surprised no-one poisoned my meal after I let it drop in the refectory that we were assigned here."
Qui-Gon's novel smile flitted across his lips as he rejoined, "This is a rare opportunity. We should be sure to make the most of it."
"It looks like you planned on doing that, Master," Obi-Wan noted, toasting him with his drink.
"Padawan, for me, this is not only an opportunity to relax, but also one of the last times I can rely on having your company. Soon, we will only be paired by your choice."
"And your choice as well."
"I know my choice; I would like to see more of you."
Obi-Wan thought to himself, there's not much you can't see now. But he said, "Oh, Master, I would like nothing more than to continue going on missions with you."
"I wonder if that's quite the truth."
This last comment confused Obi-Wan. With a noncommittal sound, he set the rest of his drink down carefully then pillowed his head in his arms. Maybe he could manage to take a nap and his problem would just go away.
He was beginning to think he would actually succeed when he felt Qui-Gon once again stretching out ever-so-close. Any prospects of sleep immediately fled as he became painfully attuned to his proximity.
The whispers of Qui-Gon's breathing were magnified by the matching susurration of the waves. The thought of his face so near made him reach out in his mind's eye.
He traced the broad forehead with his fingertips and trailed down along the well-defined but slightly askew nose, to the lips that were responding with a blissful smile to his touch. As his fingers lingered on that mouth, it began to bestow little kisses.
Oh, yes! Kisses were a good idea. Obi-Wan replaced his fingers with his own mouth as his hand slid down to caress the bearded jaw. Qui-Gon's lips parted eagerly and Obi-Wan's tongue slipped inside. He once again tasted the heady fruit flavor, this time accented with Qui-Gon's own essence. Even more delicious! Obi-Wan feasted, sucking on the tongue and thrusting his own deep inside, until Qui-Gon's escalating moans indicated it was time to move on. He licked his way down the salty, sweat-covered neck, enjoying the contrast it provided after the mouth's sweetness.
At this point he realized how convenient it was that there was no Jedi garb in the way. He didn't have to slow his fantasy down with the tedious process of unwrapping all those layers. He could get right to the nipples he had craved so long!
They were large for a man's, and he latched onto one. It hardened and swelled in his mouth in a very satisfying manner. The moaning became even louder, and he added his own muffled noises of contentment. One of his hands groped, searching for the mate as the other snaked around back. His hand found its target and began to roll the nib around under its thumb. Qui-Gon's hands clutched convulsively at his head. One of them found his long braid and reeled it in while the other firmly gripped his length of tail.
"Stay there! Keep doing that!" Qui-Gon commanded.
Happy to fulfill his own desire, he readily complied. He felt he belonged pressed to this bosom, suckling like an infant. It was paradise!
Almost. He needed to add some words.
Qui-Gon ran his lips through the short-cropped hair at the top of his head and murmured, "Oh, my own, you don't know how hard it's been for me."
Obi-Wan wrested his head away, with Qui-Gon's hands still clenched in his hair, but just to switch sides.
Gratifyingly, the voice continued, but firmer. "Each morning I've watched you stumble half-dressed out of bed, wanting nothing more than to throw you back into it with me. Whenever you've asked me a question, I longed to kiss you in reply. Each time I pinned you to a mat, it's been a struggle to let you go." Qui-Gon's voice now rumbled like a retro. "And that time you returned so late from Bant's party... oh, ghods! Your hair was mussed up..." He released his handles and riffled his fingers through the amber spikes. "...and your fastenings tied so sloppily that most of your chest was exposed." Qui-Gon drew him up, wrapping arms securely around his torso. "I don't know who you were with. And you don't know what I wanted to do to you to claim you as my own instead of giving you that extra meditation for a month!"
Obi-Wan made a mental note to explore that fantasy later. This one was progressing nicely now and it was time to turn up the heat.
As they pressed closer together, their rampant erections bumped into each other and they both gasped. Qui-Gon's hands sought Obi-Wan's ass and began to squeeze his compact cheeks.
"Oh! Force! I want you so much!" he blurted out as he rubbed his groin back and forth against Obi-Wan's.
His impressive shaft half-escaped the constriction of the swimsuit. He grabbed Obi-Wan's suit with both hands and peeled it off in a single smooth motion, leaving the younger man feeling exposed but even more excited. Qui-Gon didn't bother to remove his own suit, but he did bunch it down and adjust himself so that his erection and balls were released and supported. Obi-Wan thought it was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. As he lay back and spread his legs, his ex-master knelt between them, his quivering cock jutting straight out. A clear drop dangled from its tip, as if it were salivating in anticipation of a treat. Knowing he was the sweetmeat spiked Obi-Wan's desire and he was anxious to be devoured.
He was willing to pretend he was more experienced to speed things up, but he still wanted to imagine some lube. He thought of the vending machines, but then the slick feel and luscious smell of the lotion popped into his head.
Qui-Gon grabbed the bottle, and with trembling fingers, undid the top. In his hurry, he squeezed out too much. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath filled with the now-familiar scent when the overflow splashed onto his hot shaft. Qui-Gon tossed the bottle aside and pumped the excess up and down the length of Obi-Wan's thick erection. Obi-Wan cried out and thrust upwards. Taking advantage of that, Qui-Gon reached underneath and spread lotion all along his crack, before zeroing in on his entrance.
"Relax, my own. Let me in," he whispered as he tested the pucker with a finger.
Relax nothing! Obi-Wan plunged his hips downward and the finger slid in easily all the way home. Qui-Gon added a second and Obi-Wan began to thrust himself up and down, between the hand grasping his needy erection and the pair of fingers that were stretching and teasing him.
"Oh, Master, please! I want you in me! Fill me! Fuck me; fuck me NOW!"
At his last word, the fingers bumped his prostate, causing his entire body to jerk taut.
At that moment in the here and now, Qui-Gon's deep voice interrupted him. "Padawan, I believe you're getting pink already." Pressing a hand experimentally on Obi-Wan's shoulder blade, he added, "You'd better turn over."
Obi-Wan's heart raced. He realized he had been shadowing his fantasy by pressing into the malleable surface of the blanket on the sand. Now he was harder than ever! If he turned over, he would reveal everything.
He was so close! If only he could rid himself of this sith-forsaken hard-on... Blanket be damned! He needed to jerk off, but didn't see how. He couldn't just send Qui-Gon off swimming or beach-combing. He was waiting for him to turn over. Using his hand would be too obvious, as would any enthusiastic pumping.
An idea formed in his head, and feeling he had nothing to lose, he asked, "Master, before I turn over, would you rub my back again? It felt so good."
Qui-Gon's face lit up with its unfathomable smile as he replied, "Of course, especially if it helps you to relax."
As Qui-Gon settled again into place, Obi-Wan moved his head slightly onto a fresh patch of blanket. The sun's intense heat had liberated more of his ex-master's scent. His cock twitched in reaction and he realized this wouldn't take very long. He picked it up where the previous backrub had left off.
His ex-master continued to fuck him wildly. Qui-Gon released one hip and grabbed his cock. It was yanked hard as his torso gyrated around his still-restrained hip. Yes! Hard was just what he needed! He was nearly knocked over, but Qui-Gon's deeply impaled cock helped support him. So good! Obi-Wan desperately rammed himself back. He added his groans to Qui-Gon's, both punctuated by the sound of their flesh slapping together. His focus flicked among the sensations of having his balls jostled, his cock jerked, and his ass filled with each impact.
He started to crest as the words spilled from Qui-Gon's lips, "Oh, Ghods!... I can't stop!... I'm coming!... Oh! Padawan!"
Obi-Wan echoed, "Oh Force!... Oh, Yes!... Come in me!... I'm coming!..."
The backrub had intensified. Qui-Gon was shoving the small of his back vigorously and his cock head got the extra bit of friction it needed against the blanket.
He managed to keep his moaning under control, but he cried out, "Oh! Master?!" as he came hard. After a couple of gulped breaths he added, "Thanks; that was just what I needed."
Obi-Wan figured this would all be fantasy material for years, maybe decades, if he could pull it off. If not, he'd just have to march out into that ocean and not return.
Qui-Gon continued to rub his back for a few minutes, but it was different now... gentle touches and surface stroking in random patterns. Then, with a single light caress along the back of Obi-Wan's neck, he once again withdrew.
Obi-Wan felt the wet spot seeping along the blanket and onto his swimsuit as his erection finally subsided. Grabbing his drink as he sat up, he jostled his elbow with his knee and spilled his drink onto his groin. It poured off his swimsuit and right onto the wet spot on the blanket.
"Sith!" he cried. As Qui-Gon looked, he indicated the puddle with his empty tumbler. "Quick, Master, toss me that towel, please!"
Obi-Wan caught the towel and started blotting the blanket as Qui-Gon brought a second towel. He tried to suppress his grin and look sheepish instead.
"Padawan, you are a resourceful young man, and I'm sure you will have no difficulty passing your trials. But perhaps you should practice your powers of observation a little more. For example, pay closer attention to how people react to you."
Qui-Gon slid an arm around his shoulders, locking him in place. Then he started pressing the towel against the dampness on his swimsuit, which now covered his retreating phallus.
"Master?"
Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to ask. His heart was hammering with surprise and hope. Was this as intimate as it seemed or could Qui-Gon just be lending a hand? His cock, undeterred by doubt, began to renew interest.
Qui-Gon's words prompted him to search for the answer in his eyes. They had darkened with passion to the azure of the sea, surrounding deep pools of black that Obi-Wan felt he could drown in. Now he realized Qui-Gon's breath was ragged and glancing down to his lap, he saw an erection emerging from the swimsuit.
"Master!"
Obi-Wan, thrilled with the answer, clasped Qui-Gon with one arm and pressed his other hand over the one toweling his crotch. Encouraged, it slipped under his bathing suit and wiped his firming member. Oh, ghods! He was touching him right there! The bathing suit instantly proved completely inadequate again.
"Master..."
Obi-Wan moaned, his entire vocabulary had collapsed to that one word. It was a good thing Qui-Gon liked it so much. He reached over and tentatively touched Qui-Gon's exposed tip. He felt it surge in response.
"Since we don't have any tanning lotion with us, I think we should move this indoors now," Qui-Gon whispered huskily in his ear.
But surely the bottle was still mostly full? Obi-Wan grabbed it and, practicing his powers of observation, examined the label more closely. His hands, holding the bottle, were enclosed by Qui-Gon's.
"Please forgive me, Padawan. Packing the tanning lotion was your job; I had my own supplies to pack."
The pieces clicked into place in Obi-Wan's head. The large blanket, the drinks, the massage, and... the bottle of lube.
"Master, just how many favors did you have to call in to land us this assignment?" he asked with an enlightened grin.
"Far fewer than it was worth, my... sweetmeat," he returned, wearing his newly habitual smile.
Sweetmeat, Obi-Wan thought. That was a good one. He looked forward to more new appellations. He slid his arms around Qui-Gon's waist and tilted his face in an offering. Qui-Gon supported his head with his hands and sealed his mouth with his own. They both dropped their shields. Obi-Wan was surprised by how accurately he had imagined Qui-Gon's feelings. Qui-Gon was impressed with his ex-student's attention to detail.
Eventually, the thought crossed Obi-Wan's mind that a bad case of sunburn would make it difficult to lie on his back, so he reluctantly broke free. They threw together their stuff and rushed indoors to celebrate the local holiday in a more appropriate fashion.