Warnings: WARNINGS??
Pairing: Qui/Obi
Rating: NC-17
Summary: So, like, Barbana posted this:



What are a couple of smut-vixens like us supposed to do?
Notes & Credits:(Emu: Hey, Franzi, can you believe the pair of *us* wrote something together, and it was completely vanilla?)
(Franzi: No)
The boys belong to George, the hot image is Barbana's. Please send her feedback (barbanaqoc@hotmail.com). This is our thanks to Barbana.

Qui-Gon stands by the door a long time, eyes tracing over every shadow of the figure on the bed. One arm tucked under the chin, one arm tucked under the chest, one knee, slipped low over the side. His gaze keeps returning to the dip of spine, following it down to the curve of ass, and his hand twitches, as though invited to slide over and down, along that length of smooth, muscled thigh. And then his hand would slide up again, one thumb reaching over to the inner thigh, where he can't see from this vantage point, all the way up to that shadowed crack.

Obi-Wan's eyes fling open, a gasp emerging from his mouth as the thumb is gently pressing in, the hand still caressing his inner thigh. Soft kisses all over his shoulders and back, the other hand over his mouth, caressing his lips. His head is thrown back as he deliciously sucks on one thumb, while the kisses wander lower, to the curve of his ass.

Rough beard scratches the tender place where the hair of Obi-Wan's legs grows sparse, and he shifts his legs wider with a soft moan. A nose prods at his balls, Qui-Gon inhaling deeply, burrowing into the warm thatch of hair. Open lips drag over his skin, hot wet breath creeping into his crack.

A hand around each of Obi-Wan's thighs, sliding up, and down, and then pushing them firmly apart.

Qui-Gon's mouth opens, and his tongue gently pushes in, causing Obi-Wan to cry out softly. His grip on the pillows tightens as the pleasure surges through his body. The hands are holding him down, making it impossible for him to thrust back against the tongue. The beard is tickling against his balls, sending new sensations along his spine, sweat starting to glisten on his skin.

Obi-Wan arches back as far as he can, a silent plea for more.

Hair drags over his thighs as Qui-Gon tips his head to press deeper, hungry for more of his padawan. He settles his body more firmly between Obi-Wan's legs; his thrusting tongue grows urgent, his muffled sounds more needy.

Obi-Wan reaches back, arm flailing until Qui-Gon catches it, his huge hand enclosing Obi-Wan's wrist to reassure them both.

The tongue retreats, leaving him empty, trembling, on the edge of completion. He's writhing under Qui-Gon's touch, whimpering, as Qui-Gon is licking his balls. One hand is still holding his wrist, the other one grabbing his tail, pulling his head back, exposing his throat.

A strangled moan, as Qui-Gon sucks at one of his balls, skilfully, keeping him on the edge, playing Obi-Wan's body like an instrument.

Obi-Wan's hips reach for more, his entire body arching from the grip on his tail.

Qui-Gon's mouth releases him and begins to trail upwards, another swipe of tongue against the sensitive entrance, a row of gentle nips along the edge of cheek, to his tailbone. There Qui-Gon pauses to suck a rosy blush to the surface, until Obi-Wan is quivering, and only then he speeds his path up the arched spine to close his teeth on the stretch of exposed throat.

Obi-Wan cries out again, the teeth digging into the vulnerable flesh, drawing just a little bit of blood. His eyes grow hooded, as Qui-Gon sucks lightly, tasting Obi-Wan's blood, his tongue soothing the tender flesh.

Obi-Wan's hips are bucking, thrusting against Qui-Gon's erection. Then finally, Qui-Gon lets go of his wrist and grips his hip with one hand, guiding Obi-Wan's body slowly towards his own, his mouth still sucking at Obi-Wan's neck, drawing blood and moans from his padawan.

Qui-Gon's hand slides from Obi-Wan's hip around to rest on the small of his back, rubbing lightly at the bumps of spine, pressing down to roll Obi-Wan's hips back.

With a lick to his padawan's neck, he turns his own hips, letting the thick head of his cock slip down the length of crevice, teasingly, lower still to slide forward past Obi-Wan's swinging balls, nipping Obi-Wan's throat to quiet the whimper of protest. For a moment he rocks, revelling in the soft skin of Obi-Wan's sac, the tickle of crisp, curling hairs against his sensitive length.

Obi-Wan's body tenses, as the fire in his groin spreads, his cock painfully hard, thrusting against the covers, needing friction and release so badly. He's shaking, his brows furrowed, his face an expression of mixed pleasure and pain from the tiny bite on his throat.

Qui-Gon thrusts once more against Obi-Wan's sac, then slides up again, his cock resting against the hot entrance to Obi-Wan's body.

With a whispered, barely audible "Please", Obi-Wan spreads his legs just a little more, his body begging for Qui-Gon to claim him.

Qui-Gon could never resist that "please", in that voice, and with a soft growl he pushes inside, trusting Obi-Wan to relax enough to accept him.

A moan slides from Obi-Wan's lips, as though Qui-Gon has displaced his very breath. It only takes a slight turn of Obi-Wan's head for their lips to brush, not quite kisses: something gentler, deeper, that reaches into their lungs.

Obi-Wan's moans get louder as Qui-Gon's thrusts speed up in rhythm, their bodies moving together, lips brushing gently against lips. He shouts out his master's name as he comes, too close to hold it off any longer.

Qui-Gon gasps as he feels Obi-Wan's orgasm approaching, the tight ass spasm around his cock, milking him.

His face draws into a deep frown as he struggles against the drawing pleasure, determined to wait through the shudders of the body beneath him, to survive the high, desperate cries.

But then Obi-Wan's teeth catch on Qui-Gon's lip, red pain blossoms and his control is lost, belly curling tight as he spends himself deep inside his padawan's body.

Spent, his orgasm subsiding, Qui-Gon collapses onto Obi-Wan. Both their bodies are covered in sweat, still trembling and panting with pleasure. Qui-Gon's breath is hot in Obi-Wan's ear and Obi-Wan smiles as Qui-Gon gently nibbles it, while they both recover from their orgasms.

Obi-Wan mumbles a weak protest as Qui-Gon pulls his now-limp cock from him, his hands caressing his thighs again, before he lies down next to Obi-Wan, pulling him in a warm embrace and kissing him softly.

"I thought you were going to let me sleep in," Obi-Wan murmurs, eyes closed.

"Naked?" Rumbling voice. "Bare thighs sprawled open like that?" Qui-Gon's leg slides between Obi-Wan's, pulling him closer. "You thought no such thing."

Obi-Wan's grin is unashamed, as they drift off to sleep.

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The Emu
Barbana
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