The Trouble With Being Gay

by The Rose

Title: The Trouble With Being Gay
Author: The Rose
Archive: M/A and my web site, http://www.sockiipress.org/~rose
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Q/O
Category: Humor, Qui/Obi
Summary: Just a little vignette where Obi discusses the pros and cons of being Qui-Gon's lover.
Feedback: <waves hand slowly in air> You WILL send feedback. Ah, come on! You know you want to! Either on-list or off to: rosarocaminis@yahoo.com
Disclaimers: George Lucas owns all things Star Wars and makes a fortune off of them. Me, I write for the fun of it and give it away for free. Thanks and chocolate Obi-Wan's to my padawan Kalu, for the quick and helpful beta.

Hi. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I'm gay.

Well, I guess I'm gay. I mean, I like females, and I've even been with some, but, well, I'm in love with a Jedi Master who is male. Very male. Of course, he's in love with me, too, so I guess that makes him gay, too.

Hmm. I never thought of it that way.

Anyway, there are some problems associated with being gay and having a male lover. I remember back to the time before I knew which way my lightsaber pointed – if you get my drift – when I slept with girls, er, women. I remember that their breasts had the softest skin you could imagine. Well, that and the inside of their thighs.

The inside of my lover's thighs are anything but soft. They're muscular and, well, hairy.

I don't mean that he's a Wookiee or even an Alsorian, but his legs are covered with these tiny, stiff little hairs. I swear that I've gotten fur burn more than once, especially at night, when he often throws one of his legs over mine. When he does that, I usually wake up with this really itchy rash.

And, though he has a great chest, it's not soft like a woman's. It's hairy, too, even hairier than his legs. The hair doesn't really bother me, except sometimes when I try to suck on one of his nipples and get a curly, wiry hair struck between my teeth. Something it can take hours to get it out!

And, sometimes his hair is a problem. The hair on his head, I mean. Most of the women I've been with, and there haven't been that many, had shorter hair than Qui – um, my lover. It's not really the length that's the problem so much as the texture. It may not look like it, but it's very fine. And, it gets static cling with very little provocation. Therefore, when I cuddle up next to him, it ends up sticking to my face.

That's why he usually pulls the top part back and bands it. Not to keep it out of his face, but to keep it from sticking straight up off his head at the first little sign of dampness. This can be a really big problem when we're in bed. Perspiration, of which there's plenty after we make love, or even the moisture of my breath can turn it into one big frizzball. Try sleeping with that in your face! Usually I end up having him spoon up behind me instead of the other way around, just so I won't have to deal with that hair.

Perspiration. That's another problem I see with having a man for a lover. Men sweat a lot more than women do. After a particularly long, passionate encounter, we often have to change the sheets before we can go to sleep, because they get so damp. And then of course, there's the wet spot. That's rarely a problem when sleeping with a woman.

I think men are hotter than women. I don't mean sexier, I mean warmer. He's like sleeping with an electric bed warmer. Or a lit lightsaber. Which is great on cold nights, but pretty miserable the rest of the time.

And that brings up another problem with being gay – my lover's size. No, I don't mean down there. Although that's big, too, certainly. But, I'll get to that in a moment. Right now I'm talking about the sheer mass of the man. Some of the beds we've shared just weren't designed for someone of his bulk, not to mention a sleeping companion. More than once I've awakened on the floor. Either that, or clinging to the side of the bed like a mynock, trying not to fall off.

As for his cock, well, let’s just say it’s impressive. You get the picture.

I love women's hands. They're usually small and delicate. I love holding them, kissing them, feeling them stroke up and down my chest so very lightly. Qui – I mean, my lover – has really large hands. They're way bigger than mine. Not that I dislike them, mind you. Big, strong hands can be very sexy when they wrap around the back of my neck to pull me in for a kiss, when they hold me down while he ravishes me with his mouth, or when they wrap around my cock, holding me so very tightly . . .

Well, enough about that for now, I think. There's also the question of his facial hair. He has a full beard and mustache, and that's something else that women don't have. Well, most of them, anyway. He keeps it well trimmed and tidy, but it tickles! Sometimes that can be a good thing, like when he goes down on me. Feeling that hair against the inside of my thigh can really heighten the experience. It can really get me squirming, you know?

But, it can make kissing a problem. It tickles my nose and sometimes makes me sneeze. Not something you want to do while trapped underneath your big, strong lover with his tongue down your throat.

I decided a few months ago, after my knighting ceremony, to grow a beard and mustache of my own. I thought that maybe if Qui-Gon felt how it tickles, maybe he'd shave off his own. But, oddly enough, it only seems to turn him on more.

Hmm. That's definitely something I need to meditate about.

I guess the biggest problem with having a male lover is that I'm not a natural bottom, but neither is he. And, since he outweighs me, out ranks me, and tends to be a bit on the dominating side, guess who usually ends up on top. Him. And I have to be especially careful after he climaxes, because I don't want him to fall on me. He's done that a couple of times, and believe me, he's heavy!

Oh, not that he doesn't make it worth my while. He's a great lover. Sensuous, sexy, and he's thoughtful. He truly cares more about my own pleasure than he does his own. He always makes sure that I'm prepared before he takes me . . .

And oh, how he takes me!

Just yesterday, he came back from a particularly difficult meeting with Counselor Windu and I knew I was in for it when our eyes met. His were absolutely smoldering! I shouldn't have to tell you that it sent a chill straight through me. More so when he picked me up in his arms and slammed me against the wall. My feet weren't even touching the floor!

Oh, Force! I thought he was going to eat me alive! He peeled the clothes off of me and started licking and nibbling at my neck, shoving his knees between mine. After long minutes of that, he used the Force to pin me so he could free his hands, and he started working his way down my body. By the time he got to my cock I was begging shamelessly. I swear, he's got the most incredible mouth . . .

You know, maybe it's not so bad being gay. Not if you can have a wonderful lover like mine. Someone who is strong yet gentle, aggressive yet thoughtful, and who doesn't mind taking the time to really drive me wild before I come.

And, I love him, with all my heart. What else can I say?

I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I'm pretty darn glad that I'm gay!

The End