Master Apprentice
Archive
Washcloth
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Siri had been driving me to the edge of my physical stamina, as always when she was at Temple and had time to spare for sparring. That Master of hers must not give her enough to do... on the other hand, if she hadn't learnt it all from her Master, where else would she have got her muscle-melting fighting style from? And, I mean, it's not like my 'sabre skills are that bad. Especially not given my own Master...
Mmh. My own Master. I grin wryly and roll my aching shoulders. Never would I give my all in a sparring match, at least not while at Temple. Not because that would be undignified, and certainly not to protect myself. The Force knows I'm not squeamish... but the thought of my very own delicious Master, ready and willing, and myself lacking the strength to ram into him and make him gibber and moan with the sheer pleasure of it all... no, Kenobi. Unthinkable thought.
I do need a shower though. A steaming hot one, say my thighs. Too much leaping and dodging where Siri and her long arms are involved... or better still, a bath. Oh yes. A nice scalding hot bath. And then, a nice scalding hot Jinn.
Well, the latter seems unlikely – our quarters are deserted. More bath time for me, then. I strip out of my sweaty tunics and leggings and pad to the 'fresher, naked and shivering with the cool air on my moist skin, wishing it didn't take almost a quarter of a standard hour to fill our tub, Force suggestion or not.
The door slides aside, and I am bathed in wispy moist warm air and light. The bath... the bath is drawn already, full of gently steaming greenish water. But that's not where I'm looking.
The bath is also quite full of Qui-Gon.
Sitting propped against the far end of the tub, hot water lapping at his nipples and turning the ends of his long loosened hair into suggestive brown snakes wriggling all over his gorgeous bare skin, he fixes me with his deep blue gaze and quirks his mouth at me in that lopsided smile that makes my insides melt every time. He _knows_ I can't resist, and he plays it to the hilt.
With the heavy grace of a large predatory cat, he flexes his glistening chest and shoulders, letting the muscles in his mighty arms ripple all the way down to his hands. Huge, warm strong hands. One is casually wrapped around a dripping washcloth, and I wish for a moment it wasn't.
I wish it was wrapped around me, and I suspect I'm dripping too by now...
"Care to join me, Padawan?" The rumble in his voice is sweet as honey and thick and warm as the steam rising from the water. I don't even bother to answer, and all but leap into the tub... haa-oww! Sith, that's hot. And he's been in it for a while already... honest, sometimes I marvel at how much my Master can take. And sometimes, ever more often these days, I resolve to test him to his limits!
Gingerly, I lower myself onto my knees, feeling the needle-sharp embrace of the scalding hot water creep up my thighs, feeling it making my balls throb, feeling it wrapping around my hardening cock. Qui-Gon grins, relishing my cautious movements, obviously amused at how sensitive his dear Padawan is.
Well, two can play at that game, Master. Once the sting from the hot water has eased, I lean forward, ostensibly to immerse my own chest in the bath... and pounce. Oh, to capture his surprised mouth in a warm, wet, spicy kiss and eat the little gasp off his lips... these are the moments I live for.
I've caught him off guard, deliciously so, and he whimpers for breath and for more, half-willing to pass out just so that he doesn't have to let go of my mouth... it's his survival instinct that wins out in the end, and he shoves me back into the water with a mighty push to my chest. I go under gladly.
I resurface, spluttering and soaked, lips raw and tingling from the kiss and the hot water. Something warm and wet is clinging to my shoulder... oh. Qui-Gon's washcloth. Should really be clinging to Qui-Gon's shoulder of course.
One hand wrapped in the soaked soft cloth, one hand bare, I begin exploring my Master's body in its bath-flushed state. All that Jinn... all that skin softened from soaking in the hot water for Force knows how long. His nipples are a deep rosewood instead of the usual brown, and so sensitive he gives a startled little moan as I drag the soft cloth over them. Mmmh, good. Forcing myself to calm, I continue washing his chest and shoulders, tracing the perfect symmetry of his collarbones and shoulder muscles with one naked and one cloth-covered hand, equally reverently, revelling in the sensations. Every line of his body is just as perfect as it ever was... but every plane of it is softened by the bath, skin flushed with a faint pink heat, smelling of greenish bath oil, and him.
Tasting of him. I wrap the washcloth-covered hand around one of his mighty wrists and continue down towards his fingers, lapping at the tips with my tongue, wrinkled and soft like crushed velvet. Gods, how I wish I could have these fingertips all over me now...
"Mmmmh... Padawan? I think my feet could do with a little attention too..."
Feet. Reluctantly, I let go of his delicious fingertips and turn around, straddling his hips and surveying the underwater landscape of his long elegant legs stretched out in the clear green depth of the tub. Picking up the washcloth, I run my hands along the length of his thighs, tracing the lines of hard muscle there. I spread them just a little, to get at the tender insides, and feel him squirm just a little under me as I trail my hands, one naked, one covered in the rough warm cloth, over the backs of his knees.
His own hands slide up my sides as I continue towards his feet, and when I get up on my knees so that I can lift one foot up out of the water, he grabs me hard around the waist and yanks my hips up so that my face splashes into the water next to his feet. I come up spluttering and laughing, and assault his right foot with the rough cloth, rubbing the sensitive underside, tickling him pink, delighting in the suppressed chuckles. Just you wait, Master...
Now, usually I could spend ages just stroking and caressing his feet, those huge long bony feet that speak of strength and beauty, the beauty of a warrior... but right now I want to hear him stop laughing and start moaning. Oh, and these toes are so delicious the way they look now, all pink and soft and slightly wrinkled from the long bath... I suckle on the tiniest one and feel him squirm under me and... oh. Oooh!
His hands are still holding me in a vice grip, but oh. His mouth... He's nipping lines of tiny bites along the bottom of my spine, just there where he crack of my ass starts, and... oh... it's electric. I shudder in delight as his warm wet tongue laves the little bites, and suck on his big toe to keep myself from moaning out loud. It tastes salty, of bath and earth and Qui-Gon, and I run the tip of my tongue along the edge of the nail, filed blunt by his diligent Padawan who got tired of darning Master Jinn's socks because these toenails are weapons, honest to the Gods they are, and so hard against all that softened soaked skin... delicious.
I feel like I'm about to burst with pink heat-flushed pleasure when his tongue dips into my cleft, slowly, ever so slowly, taking care to drag the short bristles of his beard and moustache over my skin where it's hypersensitised from his earlier treatment. I shudder with sheer pleasure and suck harder on his toe, and yes he goes down down down yes Master, yes, right there...
Oh bliss... that tongue burrowing between my cheeks and burning me with the heat of the water and the heat of my Master, just the tip, licking ever so gently, lick by lick by tiny lick sending jolts of need through my tense body, making me bite down on his toe until he yowls and grabs my waist again and yanks me back and... aaaaaah! Aaaah.
Impaled on Qui-Gon's thick throbbing hardness, held tight in the embrace of arms like iron bands around my chest, a bristly mouth licking and nipping below my ear, sending white-hot bolts of lust along my nerves... yes, this is where I want to be. Forever.
Until he starts rocking.
Ever so slightly at first, tiny waves that ripple through the warm green water and through my hot stretched flesh, promising, demanding more, more... more! I thrust my own hips back, willing him to go deeper, fill me up as only he can, and he does, oh how he does...!!
Through a haze of loud red lust, I feel the water splashing over the edge of the tub, feel it splashing through the air, all around us as we buck in a mad frenzied fucking, greedy for the impossible, the hardest, the hottest, the everything. It splashes against my skin from the inside, makes me twitch and writhe and want to shed my skin for the sheer heat of it and then it splashes out of me in great bright explosions and hits the water steaming, coming closer and closer...
I am caught just a split second before my face hits the water, a hard strong arm around my chest holding me up, arched forward, staring numbly at the milky cloud of my own come in the green water. Gently, the arm tightens around me, scalding my pink skin with the heat and nearness, driving the breath out of me in a great bone-shattering moan. He crushes me against him in a deep slow kiss, then lifts his other hand out of the water, holding the limp hot wet rag that is a pretty close approximation of how I feel right now... uh, wring me out, Master.
Of course he does nothing of that kind. Instead he wrings out the soaked cloth, lovingly wraps it around his hand and wipes off the end of my Padawan braid where it's soaked up the seed-clouded water. Then, he drags the rough cloth, scented with myself, across his lips...
That dreamy look in his eyes is just too much – and damn it, he _can_ have the real thing on his lips... I'll show him... and if it's me passing out from the kiss this time, so be it.
There's worse ways to go than to be kissed unconscious by Qui-Gon Jinn.
--- The End ---