Warning: Jar Jar sex, wierdness, inappropriate humour, Canadian
spellings
Spoilers: minor for TPM
Archive: sure
Summary: um, Xander Harris has a really weird Jar Jar Sex Dream
Notes: Sorry. LauraJV encouraged me. Blame her! Blame
her! Not tested on betas or animals.
"Xander Harris's Really Wierd Jar-Jar Sex Dream"
by Spike
8/99
Spike: (giggle)...and you haven't even heard my Jar
Jar/Xander Harris fantasy. (g)
LauraJV: You're right. I haven't. Spill.
Well, see Xander goes to see the Phantom Menace and eats way
too many strawberry nibs and raspberry sour fish and Flipz and
Jones Sour Apple Sodas and so when he goes to sleep that night
he has this dream. And it's a funny kind of dream, almost kind
of a sexy dream, except that IN the dream he's actually still
sleeping, or more, really -- dozing -- with his eyes
closed and just feeling really...hmmm...really good.
Particularly around the toes area, because it seems that in his
dream somebody is actually licking at his toes, and maybe
nibbling a little too, but just with their lips. But then at
the same time as they're nibbling they're also licking kind of
warm wet swathes between his toes and down the sole of his
foot. Which is somewhere between gross and well... good... and
a little ticklish...
But definitely good although a little on the odd side
because there seems to be an awful lot of tongue in contact
with his foot -- draping over his instep, twining around his
toesies, finding ticklish places under his heel. But on the
other hand, the more tongue there is, the more better good it
seems to feel so Xander just kind of stretches out a little and
presents his other foot, just in case there's interest.
And apparently there is because the nibbling doesn't stop and
the licking of his left foot doesn't stop and then there's like
this little shift and then the long ribbon of tongue
snaking between all his left foot toes just kind of keeps
snaking and crosses over and starts snaking between all his
right foot toes, kind of connecting his feet in this one long,
warm, wet, shivery, wonderful... weird...very very weird...
"Waaaaagh...!" Xander screams and sits up. Because, you know,
what with living on the Hellmouth and all... For a second he
thinks he hears a kind of fwipfwapthwappita sound and
maybe a little snickering and his feet are definitely...
damp-ish.. but no, everything is quiet now... He even turns on
the light. Looks around sternly at the empty room for a minute
or two, but since there's no one there he just gives his
standard: "Okay all disembodied tongue monsters, I'm on to you
so you better watch yourselves or there'll be mass
tongue-cleaving happening tonight..." and turns out the light.
Lies back down and gets himself all comfy in the bed again...
Decides that it's the bed springs creaking and NOT a muffled
cry of: "How wooed!" that he hears from under the bed. And goes
back to sleep.
Or at least he thinks he's gone back to sleep because
soon enough he's having another extremely weird yet
good-feeling dream in which he is showing his new light saber
to Qui Gon Jinn and Obi Wan Kenobi, and letting them test the
weight and... um, heft and ...uh, oh yeah, Obi Wan -- hold it
just like that...
And just when Obi Wan is getting this suspicious kind of
hey-that's-not-your-light-saber look on his face, Xander feels
the warm, wet swipe of a tongue just behind his knee. And
that's very nice indeed. Nice enough that he has to groan a
little in his sleep, spread his knees a little for better...
balance. Yes, balance is very important here because in the
dream part of the dream Obi Wan now has his hands wrapped
firmly around Xander's ... um, surprisingly sensitive and
lightly buzzing light saber and Qui Gon is just bending over it
for a closer look, lips parted slightly in concentration, warm
breath...
Another swipe behind the other knee and oh yeah, Xander
definitely needs to groan here. Maybe moan a little too. He
spreads his knees a little more, bends them a little, gets his
feet flat on the bed. Which definitely encourages the tongue to
explore new territory, first up the backs of his legs and then
between his thighs.
His naked inner thighs. Naked and ticklish -- he giggles -- and
now wet, inner thighs. Obi Wan and Qui Gon both raise
Spock-like eyebrows. Xander giggles again. After all, he's
standing naked at home plate with a couple of skeptical looking
Jedi Knights apparently about to swing away with his cock
thinking it's a light saber or a baseball bat -- or possibly
from the look on Qui Gon's face, the galaxy's tastiest corn
dog, while... something... oh god... something's foot long
tongue has just wound it's way up around his inner thigh and
found his secret place --
He giggles again but it gets a little wild, a little faint.
Xander's legs give out on him but it's okay, the Jedi have him.
They float him down so that he's lying on his back on his soft,
comfy bed and fade away like mist and Xander could just fall
back into dreams again except that tongue is still there, still
sliding around his leg and threading along in the groove where
his leg is attached to his body and it won't stop moving...
And it's not, he realizes finally, just a disembodied tongue.
There is a mouth that's lipping away at his knee, there is a
cool, smooth weight atop his legs, there are strong warm hands
caressing his ankle and his hip... there is... there is...
--oh baby... or possibly oh Mary, Mother of God--
... a warm length of velvet hardness pressed against his
calf. But Xander knows if he opens his eyes he's going to
regret it either way. He's either going to see something that's
going to wig him beyond repair, like maybe JarJar Binks
blinking innocently up at him while his tongue...oh god that
tongue -- is buried in Xander's nether regions, or actually
just to the left of nether and winding around the back of the
testicular peninsula to juuuuust wiggle a little into the
groove of the opposite thigh... and what the hell was he
thinking about...? Oh... oh yeah. Or else he's going to wake up
alone.
Which at this point, is NOT an option.
No, apparently the only option available at the moment is to
kind of writhe and moan a little more and shift himself to
allow that warm, wet, wriggling tongue more access to said
nearly-nether parts. See, he would otherwise be reasonable,
wake himself up, maybe make sure he wasn't being molested by
something a little less harmless than a CGI-and-too-much-candy
generated fantasy creature except that what the possible-JarJar
is doing feels...so...good...
That even if he wanted to at this point he doubts that he could
make it stop. Like even if all the noise he's making brought
other people running into the room -- like his parents... augh!
Or Buffy... yikes. Or... or Rupert Giles....which is actually
more of an 'unnnngh' than either an 'auuuugh' or a 'yikes' and,
hey that's a new level of inappropriate lusting he
hadn't previously explored! All of which is entirely moot --
whatever the hell 'moot' actually means -- because the shifting
weight on his thighs shifts again and the large, heavy, velvety
wonderful someone wrapped around him rolls under
his left knee, following the length of its own tongue, and then
shifts a little settles between his legs. Nice and warm and
somehow comforting to have him, it, whatever, there -- even
more moanworthy to have a pair of big, soft, strong hands
lifting his hips, pulling him up and in...
Giving the traveling wonder-tongue the slack it needs... he
needs... they all need and he is, he realizes, totally babbling
now as the tongue begins to snake it's way, loose and slick
around his balls and up to spiral itself like a ribbon around
his maypole.
Snaking, slithering. Wet and warm and slick and just the
sensation of it moving in all directions at once like -- like a
slippery, fleshy videotape threaded through a whole bunch of
convoluted reels all connected to his pleasure center -- is so
incredibly, dizzyingly sexy Xander thinks maybe he's just going
to lose all control...
Or at least that's his last actual sentient thought as the tip
of the tongue finally makes it up over the head of his cock and
begins to softly flog it... which sparks the orgasmic fuse at
the base of his spine and seems intent on keeping it burning
for about a hundred million years. And might have succeeded too
if a large, warm, soft-lipped mouth hadn't descended on his
tongue-wrapped genitals and swallowed them whole.
//My god,// Xander thinks. //It's full of stars!// And
distantly he knows that this is a different and much less
slashable movie but he doesn't care because he's coming harder
and longer than it's possible for anyone to come and still have
a spine when they wake up in the morning. Which he doesn't care
if he ever does. Cuz this is... this is sex worth dying for.
Although, when the last wave finally breaks, the last shudder
finally shudders and he finds he's still alive, he's not
particularly disappointed. Kind of noodley in all the various
departments, from bones to brains. But not unhappy about it.
And pretty definitely awake.
And not alone.
Soft, warm presence breathing at his side and he's still afraid
to open his eyes.
"Um," Xander says. "I... uh... feel like sort of a creep for
not wanting to know, you know? But, um -- I think it's
better if I don't."
"Mmm..." Soft lips nibble the lobe of his left ear.
"Interspecies relationship angst and bestiality issues. I
thoroughly understand."
"Oh...uh...um... Meesa guessen youssa worried maxi bigtime how
this looken. Okeday!"
"Oke-- hey, JarJar, you're not by any chance wearing... um,
tweed, are you? And, uh, feel free to lie if that'll help you
say 'no'."
"No tweed?" the Gungan's voice sounds maxi sad.
"Well, maybe a little tweed," says Xander, snuggling closer.
"But we're definitely leaving the tweedy parts out when we tell
the Scoobies in the morning. They already think my dream life's
bent beyond repair."
To which the Gungan has no clever reply whatsoever.
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