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Padmé Goes Star-Hopping	By : Kooriv Category: Star Wars (All) > Het - Male/Female Views: 11796 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Padmé Goes Star-Hopping
- 1
Padmé Goes Star-Hopping

It was, Padmé considered, one of the strangest assignments she had been tasked with since her career in the Senate began—even by the standards of her recent galactic tour of the Mid Rim. Having enjoyed her protracted diplomatic envoy to the Mytaranor sector, she had crossed to the neighboring Terr’skiar sector, which she hoped to quickly check off her itinerary. What she knew of the local species of this particular region made the senator long for the company of a good few Wookiees.

Her Nubian-class diplomatic sloop touched down on the outskirts of the capital, where Padmé was to meet the ministerial Marcéz of the planet. Her Rodian pilot pointed out the entrance to the city, largely hidden, as most of the native settlement lay in an intricate tangle of subterranean caverns beneath the planet’s rocky, porous surface. “Hope you packed your spelunking suit,” he commented, razzing through his snout.

Padmé ignored him, still feeling direly ambivalent towards this stop-off, but readied herself all the same, slipping into a bulky, hard-wearing suit with a breath mask affixed to the wide collar. She hoped she wouldn’t need it.

Descending the ramp in the company of Captain Typho and Dormé—the latter of whom had been particularly keen to join her mistress on the next leg of her galactic tour—Padmé awaited the arrival of the Marcéz’s congregation. “Look alive,” she murmured to Typho. “If things get dull, fake a comm call from the Embassy. I’m itching to get to Togoria.” She felt Dormé grin beside her, no doubt picturing the muscular wildcat race.

However, activity at the entrance to the underground drew Padmé’s attention. A collection of beings emerged and made their way towards the starship. She suppressed a flat sigh at the sight of them.

They were tall. Bipedal, though their appearance briefly put Padmé in mind of the durni of Corellia. Robes covered most of their lank bodies, but what skin showed through was coated in thick fur. Thick, green fur, Padmé noted. Two floppy ears protruded from their wide heads, and their eyes were about as big as their buck teeth.

The leader of the pack stopped short of the senator’s company and raised a large hand. “Greetings, Senator Amidala,” he said in a somewhat nasally voice. “I bid you welcome to Coachelle Prime. I am the Marcéz Tuzzki.”

Oh, brother, Padmé thought, and adopted her best smile. “The pleasure is mine,” she said wistfully, thinking of Togoria. “Shall we start the tour?”

“But of course,” said the giant Lepi, and waved his congregation forward. Padmé dismissed Typho and Dormé, not wanting to subject them to the tour, and exchanged an apologetic glance with the handmaiden. Dormé offered a shrug, and departed with Typho. Padmé fell into step alongside Tuzzki, trying not to stare, as they descended into the warren.

* * * *

The Lepi city was indeed a maze of intricately-carved caverns, and Padmé was partly glad she had a guide. Unfortunately, the Marcéz took a great deal of pride in showing her the city’s points of interest, and Padmé learned far more than she needed about subterranean mining methods and daucus production facilities. By the second hour of trudging through the over-heated tunnels, she was hoping desperately for a cave-in.

To make matters worse, Padmé had been invited to a banquet in the Republic’s honor, and had been unable to turn the offer down. The food was simple, and fortunately not comprised solely of root vegetables, though Padmé felt her attention sapped by the incessant small talk. She attempted to send off a surreptitious S.O.S. to Typho, but the labyrinthine warrens must have caused signal interference, as no response was forthcoming. The senator slumped back in her chair and endured the rest of the banquet in a state of absolute boredom.

Afterwards, the Marcéz insisted on escorting her back through the tunnels, though stopped unexpectedly in front of a large, circular door. “These will be your quarters, senator,” he declared, and Padmé breathed a sigh of relief, feeling herself itch under the heat, and hopeful that the ordeal was finally over. “We will resume the tour tomorrow, but for now, I expect you shall want to wash and so forth.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Padmé said, and bid a quick farewell to the prime minister. “The facilities are en-suite,” he added, “and there are refreshments along the tunnel.”

Left alone, Padmé found the locking mechanism to her door, divested herself of the cumbersome mining suit, and threw herself onto the circular bed wearily. She would have to come up with an excuse to depart before being dragged along on a second tour tomorrow. The room was well-fitted, however, and the shower was more advanced than she had expected from the cave-dwelling civilization. She considered making use of it, feeling stifled in the stuffy heat of the city-warren, but the bed was far too comfortable.

She let herself fall into a comfortable slumber. She dreamed of giant, floppy ears and huge, orange-colored vegetables, and awoke with a dry throat. Though she was loath to leave the sanctity of her room, she knew she would have to avail herself of the city’s refreshments. She dressed in a simple senatorial robe she had packed into the utility compartment of the suit.

Stepping carefully out of the portal, she ensured there were no Lepi around who might look like taking her on a tour of a carrot factory, and slipped into the refreshment hutch. A surly, grey-furred Lepi stood behind the bar arranging glasses, though aside from a few slovenly drunkards in the corners, the room was deserted. Padmé meekly asked for water, and took a long gulp. The hutch was peaceful enough, however, and Padmé hopped onto a stool at the bar, deciding at least to take her time with her drink.

However, the serenity was interrupted when a tall, thin Lepi burst in through the door, shot up to the bar and demanded a quarter of Old Janx. He was wearing dusky overalls, perhaps those of a freighter mechanic, though he had augmented the outfit with a bandoleer and a blaster holster fitted to his utility belt. Perhaps something more than a mechanic. Padmé glanced at him askance; he seemed young compared to the other Lepi she had seen, and had a brightness to his eyes and posture that the dull Marcéz lacked.

He suddenly turned to her with a frown. “Whatcha lookin’ at, doll?” he muttered, wrinkling his nose.

“N-nothing,” Padmé said, taken aback by his brusqueness. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, an’ don’t you forget it. Name’s Jaxxon,” he said proudly, then paused, as if waiting for a response. Padmé looked at him blankly. “Don’t tell me ya ain’t heard o’ the great Jaxxon? Scourge of the Centrality! Infamous on nine systems! Where ya bin livin’?”

“Coruscant,” the senator said, feeling the need to vent some frustration rising. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

“Ah, the Big Hutch. Place stinks, so I hear.”

“It’s where manners cost nothing,” Padmé responded sweetly.

“Ain’t bin there. Don’t think I ever will.”

“It might help drum some breeding into your thick fur.”

Jaxxon halted, looking offended, and peered at Padmé curiously. “Don’t get too many Humans on Coachelle. Not many can stand it.”

“I wonder why,” she snapped, and took another draught of her water, determined to get out of this rough-houser’s presence.

“We ain’t got the room for the likes o’ you,” Jaxxon said, puffing out his wiry chest. “We’ve already colonised the whole system. We breed like... crazy.”

Padmé scowled in disgust, not wanting to hear anything about the creature’s mating habits, and finished up her water, slamming the glass back onto the bar. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said with a brittle tone, “I need to spend time in some respectable company.” She stepped lightly off her stool and walked out into the tunnel, making for her room.

She heard the creature’s flat feet slapping against the stone floor before she even reached halfway. “It wasn’t an invitation,” she said, not looking back.

“I’m good at parties,” Jaxxon said.

Padmé whirled to face him, as if about to brow-beat a Neimoidian delegate in the Senate Rotunda. “Mr Jaxxon, the company I intend to keep tonight will be mine and mine alone. In the two-and-a-half standard hours I’ve spent on your planet, you can be assured that I’ve had my fill of just about anything it—and its... people—have to offer. So I shall bid you goodnight, and good luck in whatever career you choose.” She turned back and crossed to her door, intending on slamming it in the oversized bunny’s face.

He was still standing where she left him, however, his ears sagging pitifully. Nobody could look more hangdog than a Lepi, Padmé decided. She sighed. “Look,” the senator said, adopting a slightly softer tone, “I’m tired, all right? I’m sure the girls hereabouts are all fascinated by you, but I’m afraid I’m not interested. Besides, I’m spoken for.”

The Lepi raised his gaze a little. “Spoken for?”

“Yes. Married. Do you have marriage here?”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah, ya gotta be married t’ breed. Very important.”

“Well, exactly,” Padmé said, a little impressed with the creature’s sense of morals. “So, let’s just say I’m flattered, but no thank-you.”

Jaxxon frowned. “How d’ya mean?” he said.

“Well, you were trying to get into bed with me, weren’t you?” Padmé responded. “You were, weren’t you?”

The Lepi shuffled his large feet. “I was jus’ makin’ conversation, miss,” he said in a small voice. “Not bed stuff. I...” he paused, as if loath to continue, but caught Padmé’s eye for a moment. “I ain’t much for that kinda thing.”

Padmé unfolded her arms, her anger fading away as curiosity took its place. “How old are you?” she asked.

“Old enough,” Jaxxon said, somewhat defensively. “But I need to marry a respectable girl from a respectable burrow.”

“But,” Padmé began delicately, “that doesn’t mean you couldn’t... meet girls. Do you see? You can go to bed with them without having to marry them...” she paused, bewildered at how the conversation had turned so quickly. This was usually the sort of veiled invite she would use on a potential one-night stand, not some floppy-eared lepiform with an inferiority complex.

“I’ve met girls!” Jaxxon said indignantly. “I’ve bin out in the galaxy. Got a name fer myself on Nar Shaddaa.”

Padmé nodded. So he wasn’t quite as naive as he made out, if he’d survived Nar Shaddaa. “I’m sure that’s nice for you,” she said, making for the door again.

“But...”

Padmé paused. She knew she should ignore him and lock herself inside. Thoughts of Kashyyyk were still preying on her imagination, and she wanted this stop-over to be done with quick enough for her libido to still be of use to her on Togoria. But she found she couldn’t just walk away from this wretched creature, and turned back to him. “But what?”

“Well,” he said with a gulp. “I left home when I was twelve. I bin all ‘round the Centrality; even to the Outer Rim. I seen loads o’ species, but I ain’t come across many o’ my own kind.”

“I thought you guys bred like... anything,” Padmé recalled.

“Yeah, but us Lepi tend ta hide away. We ain’t much ta look at, ya see,” he said, shrugging his lanky arms. “So I ain’t bin all too familiar with Lepi girls.”

Padmé frowned. “So, who have you been... familiar with?”

He shifted his weight again, though his ears were pricked up and twitching excitedly. “There was some girl in the Corus system. A Human girl,” he said, then, noting Padmé’s expression, added, “Only kissed!”

Padmé was more concerned about the wider implications of Jaxxon’s confession—specifically those relating directly to her. She was experienced enough with adolescent boys to know exactly where his train of thought would be taking him... and to her surprise, she didn’t feel like running to bolt the door.

“So you like Human girls, do you?” she asked, tilting her head to one side. She could still picture her night with the Wookiees vividly—and, well, there were no Wookiees around right now.

Jaxxon nodded sheepishly at her.

“Why don’t you come inside,” Padmé said carefully, “and tell me all about the girl from the Corus system.”

* * * *

Jaxxon sat nervously on the bed, one foot twitching, while Padmé leaned against the dresser, sipping at one of two glasses of polanis red she had brought from the refresher hutch for herself and her unexpected guest. “Describe her,” she prompted.

The Lepi looked in dire straits, clearly unfamiliar with sharing a woman’s room, but complied all the same. “She was somethin’,” he said, trying to reassume his earlier bravado. “Real pale skin, real smooth too. Brown eyes. And this long, white hair; real white, like the glow of an ion engine.”

Padmé smiled. It was almost poetic—for a six-foot lagomorph. “Well, I’m sorry to say that I haven’t met many women with white hair—but you never know. You might get lucky again.”

“Oh, white hair ain’t a deal-breaker,” Jaxxon said, then seemed to realize exactly what he’d implied, and stared down at his feet again.

Padmé’s smile widened. Despite his appearance, she was getting a quiet thrill from this. She always enjoyed finding innocent boys and making them into less innocent men. She wondered if it was a trait of Naboo women, or just women in general. She set down her glass and crossed to the bed. “What about the brown eyes?” she said, bending low over the youngster until he met her gaze.

“I like brown eyes,” he said, and Padmé laughed at his innocent tone.

“Do you like mine?”

“Yeah, they’re nice,” he said.

Padmé shook her head, and sat down on the bed next to him, drawing an arm around his shoulders. “It’s a start, but you’ve got to be able to compliment a girl properly. Women like being talked into bed.”

“Whadda I say?” the Lepi asked, looking confused.

“Well, tell me what you think of me. How does my body look?”

“Good.”

“Be inventive,” Padmé said patiently.

Jaxxon thought for a moment, his gaze wandering somewhat shyly over his new companion’s form. She smiled, relaxing into an easy posture and allowing him to gain inspiration from her curves. She crossed her legs, her skirt sliding up just enough to bare an inch or two of calf to the youngster.

“Well,” he began, tugging at his collar, “I confess this rabbit ain’t seen nearly as many fems as he’d like, but you take the carrot-cake, sweet tush. You got a body smooth as a neutron star, lemme tell ya, enough ta make anyone go space-loopy. Those legs go from here ta the Tion Cluster, I bet, an’ I wouldn’t mind goin’ faster-than-light into ya Hegemony, if ya catch my drift chart.”

Padmé couldn’t help but grin at the floppy-eared critter’s colorful language. “Keep it up, Jax, and you just might,” she murmured sidelong, and let her hand trail around the Lepi’s collar.

“I ain’t usually one fer that kinda talk, sweetie,” Jaxxon said, easing into his newfound role. “Usually gets me a slap ‘cross the chops here on Coachelle.”

Padmé’s grin widened, and she tugged one of Jaxxon’s ears down to her lips. “You just haven’t been talking to the right women,” she whispered. He started tapping his flat feet eagerly against the floor.

By now, Padmé would have locked lips with her lover, but the rabbit’s way with words didn’t compensate for those buck-teeth of his. Instead, the sultry senator decided to hurry along to the next stage of Jaxxon’s education. Feeling the familiar tease of dirty exhilaration flowing upwards through her body, Padmé lowered herself to her knees in front of the Lepi, who blinked down at her with wide eyes. “Have you ever seen a woman like this before, Jax?” she asked coyly.

“Can’t say I have, toots,” he remarked, and watched intently as Padmé ran her hands along his jumpsuit-clad legs. Reaching his tool belt, she sought out his zipper, and tugged it down swiftly.

“You can now,” Padmé grinned, and wrapped her small fingers around the bulge she quickly discovered inside the bunny’s britches. He was hard already—of course—though Padmé found herself impressed when her fingertips barely even touched around his girth. “Now that just isn’t fair, Jax,” she simpered, pulling the Lepi’s manhood out into full view, “depriving all those girls of this delicious-looking piece of meat!”

His shaft was thick and as green as the rest of him—and thankfully devoid of fur—though not as large as the alien dicks Padmé had grown accustomed to over the past few days. Nevertheless, she eyed it with desire, the tip already leaking juicy pre-cum, and she couldn’t help but stick out her tongue and lap tenderly at the bulbous head. Jaxxon groaned low in his throat, and made affirmative noises. “Mmm, I was right,” Padmé said.

Jaxxon remained silent, words clearly having failed him, and let the sultry senator have her fill. She lapped at him again, eager to soak her tongue in his sweet taste, and massaged his shaft under her fingers. Murmuring softly to herself, Padmé ducked her head, latching her lips to his knob, before sucking him gently into her mouth. She watched his reaction, as she always enjoyed doing, and was not disappointed by the look of unbridled joy that took hold of his rubbery face. It was charming, in a way—but Padmé was no longer concerned about his appearance.

She sucked him down with more gusto, letting her skilled tongue do the work, bathing his rigid shaft as she suckled on his juicy man-carrot from above. She let his dick bump briefly against her tonsils, but held off from deep-throating the lengthy prick—if Jaxxon was as inexperienced as he said, he wouldn’t last long against the kind of pleasure Padmé could give him.

Instead, she reluctantly popped him free of her mouth, ensuring he caught sight of the thin strand of saliva that briefly hung between his head and her bubbling, red lips. “How was that, Jax?” she asked.

“Might just be my new favorite pastime,” the Lepi quipped eagerly.

Padmé smiled wickedly. “Well, since you enjoyed it so much, perhaps you’d like to return the favor?” she offered, taking to her feet. The Lepi blinked curiously. Padmé guessed she would have to lead him through it—but the prospect excited her all the same.

Facing away from the bed-bound bunny, Padmé lifted her skirt slightly, and dipped a hand between her legs. Glancing back to ensure she had Jaxxon’s full attention, Padmé grasped the waistband of her panties and wiggled her ass, sliding them down over her hips. Jaxxon’s gaze was fixed on her pert backside as it jiggled under her dress, his cock twitching impatiently in his lap.

Padmé tossed her panties lightly to the floor and turned to face him, beckoning him to stand. She strode to the bed and mounted it on all fours, taking to the center and glancing back over her shoulder. “Ready?” she asked, wiggling her upraised ass again.

Jaxxon grinned, and quickly mounted the bed to press himself urgently against Padmé, straddling her backside as if riding a bantha. She felt his cock poking insistently between her legs, and had to reach around to grip it tightly, holding him in place. “Easy, tiger,” she warned. “Like I said, I want you to do something for me first.”

Noting Jaxxon’s continued puzzlement, Padmé hiked her skirt higher, revealing the tops of her thighs and her naked pussy. “See if you can bring the bunny out of her warren,” she grinned wickedly.

Clearly still lost at sea, but willing to follow Padmé’s lead, Jaxxon knelt on the edge of the bed and approached her waiting snatch with curiosity. He placed his hands on the backs of her thighs, taking a moment to marvel at the softness of her flesh as he squeezed his fingers, then peered at her cunt like it was a priceless artefact. “Don’t be shy,” Padmé prompted, “why don’t you cop a feel, bunny-boy?”

Obediently, the furry critter raised his thumb and pressed it to the opening of Padmé’s juicy slit. She cooed in response, bringing a broad smile to Jaxxon’s face. “I did somethin’ good, right?” He slid his thumb along the length of her lower lips.

“Keep doing it,” Padmé said, and bucked her hips for emphasis. Jaxxon cupped his hand over her mound, running his thumb in circles against her folds, listening out for the moans of appreciation from his teacher. “Give me more,” she ordered.

Carefully, Jaxxon pressed his fingertip to her flowery opening and pushed, feeling his digit slip easily inside her lubricated tunnel. Padmé gasped as she felt the Lepi’s finger filling her fuck-hole; it felt bigger than some dicks she had taken, and she was eager to have it fill her completely. She bucked against Jaxxon’s hand as he explored her sweet confines, wiggling his digit between her walls and eliciting more pleasurable moans. “That’s right,” she murmured. “You’re a pilot, right? Pilots are good with their hands.”

“That’s right, doll,” Jaxxon said proudly, and scuffed her inner pleasure spot lightly, causing Padmé to shriek deeply. “I can make freighters sing too.”

She bared her teeth as he brushed her sensitive spot again. “I hope you’re not comparing me to a freighter, Jax.”

“Naw,” he soothed, sliding his finger deeper into her puffy twat. “you’re a cruise liner, darlin’. A real pleasure yacht.”

“Oh yeah?” Padmé prompted, feeling Jaxxon’s free hand clawing upwards to her ass. She slid her skirt higher, baring her buttocks, and the Lepi clutched and squeezed at her peachy flesh in wonderment.

“Yeah,” he breathed, circling his finger inside her wetness. “All smooth lines, ya know. Beautiful form an’ structure. Designer shoulda got a medal.”

“Naboo craftsmanship, honey,” Padmé laughed, “best in all the Mid Rim.”

Jaxxon squeezed her ass again, and when his thumb—likely accidentally—brushed her enflamed clit, Padmé squealed and decided she’d had enough of this lesson. She slipped herself off Jaxxon’s finger and turned to face him, taking his hand in hers.

“You were talking earlier about breeding,” she said, bringing his outstretched finger up to her lips. She suckled on his digit, tasting her own juices on her tongue, and grinned. “Why don’t you show me how you do it on Coachelle?”

Jaxxon gave a sidelong smile. “We ain’t even married,” he said, stroking his cock in readiness.

“Then let’s just fuck,” Padmé grinned, and beckoned Jaxxon with a finger. Following her command, the Lepi lay on his back in the center of the circular bed, gazing up at Padmé as she straddled him, still fitted snugly into her senatorial dress with her skirt hiked up high.

“Ain’t ya slippin’ inta somethin’ more comfortable?”

Padmé gazed down at him slyly, one hand snaking between their bodies to grasp his green dick firmly. “You’ll get plenty of opportunities to see some skin, believe me,” she smirked, and drew his attention back to the matter in hand by sliding his shaft along her wet folds. “Let’s make this hard and dirty.”

She eased Jaxxon’s length inside herself, marvelling at his girth, sinking inch after inch of his meat into her burrow. The Lepi’s ears were sticking out straight, and he had his eyes tightly closed. Padmé could only imagine how the first feel of a woman’s intimacy was feeling for him, and she wanted to leave the best impression.

Slowly, the sultry senator began gyrating her hips, riding a wide circle atop Jaxxon’s dick, her fingers laced in the tufty fur poking out above his jumpsuit. The Lepi responded with ragged jerks of his hips, trying to impale himself deeply inside Padmé’s steaming cunt, though the brunette slowed him with a squeeze of her inner muscles. “Ease off the throttle, flyboy,” she teased, “I don’t want you going into hyperspace just yet.”

Padmé took control, dictating Jaxxon’s pace with languid rolls of her curvy hips. He gripped her thighs tightly, kneading her flesh as she rocked his dick back and forth inside her snatch. “Ya sure know how ta get a rabbit excited,” he commented in a breathy voice.

Padmé laughed and threw out her long hair, letting the brown ringlets cascade over her shoulders. Jaxxon’s knob was raging mightily inside her, and she wanted nothing more than to go wild—but the rabbit would need a few more years under his utility belt before he could match the voraciousness of a woman like Padmé Amidala.

Tempering her need for speed, the senator slid herself with sultry excess on his slippery pole, using the fine muscle control she had developed over the years to squeeze and milk every ounce of pleasure from the Lepi’s manhood. He was certainly enjoying it, burbling various phrases and obscenities under his breath. “That’s good,” he breathed, “real good!”

“You’ve been missing out, Jax,” Padmé said with a deep sigh. “The galaxy’s full of pleasure. It’s not all about star-hopping.”

“A galaxy with you in is good enough fer this rabbit,” Jaxxon replied, and bucked his hips between Padmé’s bouncing legs with eager energy. The senator let him carry on, matching his wild thrusts with her own vigorous humping, her buttocks slapping against his jumpsuited thighs.

Soon the pair were lost to a cacophony of thrusting wet slaps and grunts of pleasure. Padmé lowered herself over Jaxxon, wrapping her arms under and around his neck, and the rabbit grabbed hold of her buttocks to ream her more fully. Hooking his knees, the Lepi plundered Padmé’s snug snatch with vicious snaps of his hips, hard enough to jolt her frame and cause her to yell in throaty lust. “Oh, yes!” she called into his furry ears, “that’s it! You’re doing good, Jax!”

This brought a wide grin to the Lepi’s fuzzy face, and his nose twitched as an idea struck him. “D’ya think it’s about time I showed ya how we do it here on Coachelle?”

Padmé smiled lustily, tugging at his ears, and nodded. Quick as a flash, Jaxxon jumped up and threw Padmé face-down onto the bed. He resumed his earlier position directly behind the kneeling brunette, his raging knob pressing against her backside. He rubbed his hands eagerly over her pink buttocks. “Ya know this one?” he grinned.

“It’s familiar to Humans, yes,” Padmé smiled back, and moaned as she felt Jaxxon press the tip of his erection to her puffy pussy.

He slid himself inside her wetness, trying to push to his limit, and bent low over Padmé’s crooked body. “We call it the Lepi style,” he boasted, and wasted no more time by fucking the petite brunette.

Padmé sank to her elbows, keeping her ass high for Jaxxon to angle his long dick inside her, and weathered every ragged thrust with a moan of delight. The energetic bunny seemed to be on his second wind, humping his lover with enthused jabs of his fat cock, even his imprecise thrusts doing wonders in this position. Padmé loved to be taken on all fours, and continued to be delighted in finding species who shared her fervor.

When Jaxxon grabbed a handful of Padmé’s hair and rode her with lusty tugs on her mane, she felt the stirrings of an orgasm in her stuffed loins. Bucking like a ronto against the Lepi, she let out an extended squeal of joy as if riding on a Calamari supercoaster.

Feeling Jaxxon similarly reaching the verge of his pleasure, Padmé deftly slid out from under his bucking body and spun around to gobble down his honey-soaked dick. Jaxxon moaned aloud as one tight, wet burrow was replaced by another, and bucked his hips into Padmé’s slobbering mouth. The senator reached down beneath her skirt to ensure her own continued pleasure, slipping two welcome fingers into her velvety snatch, keeping her body brimming with orgasmic energy.

Under the relentless vacuum of Padmé’s throat, Jaxxon climaxed quickly, shooting a gush of hot spunk down her gullet with a shrill cry. The sensation, coupled with Padmé’s manual ministrations, pushed her over the edge, and she came around her fingers with a deep and lustrous moan. Letting the Lepi spend himself inside her mouth, Padmé nuzzled into his furry crotch until the last of his seed trickled between her lips, then released him. She slid onto her belly and gazed up at the lagomorph, watching his tufty chest rise and fall. “Enjoy yourself, flyboy?” she asked softly.

“Are all Human fems like that?” he breathed, as if he’d just flown around the Fire Rings of Fornax.

“Depends on the fem,” Padmé replied. “But you’ll know how to handle yourself now, I hope.”

Jaxxon paused, gazing down at the sultry senator spread-eagled on the bed. “I dunno,” he began, a gleam entering his eye, “I’d hate ta disappoint ‘em.”

A grin blossomed on Padmé’s sweaty, cum-streaked face. She clambered shakily to her feet, and turned her back on Jaxxon. The Lepi obediently sought out her zipper, and trailed it down to the base of her spine. With a dancer’s poise, Padmé stepped out of her dress as it glided to a pool on the floor, and kicked her feet free. Still turned away from her energetic lover, Padmé reached back and took hold of his hand.

“Perhaps we should go over this Lepi style of yours,” she said, leading him towards the shower cubicle, “in greater detail.”

The Lepi followed with a grin on his face, his cock springing into action like a regular star-hopper.

* * * *

Bidding goodbye to the Marcéz’s collective at the entrance to the city, Padmé Amidala took the short walk back to her starship with a bounce to her step. Dormé, waiting dutifully at the foot of the ramp, noticed.

“Did the meeting go well, My Lady?” she asked, a very particular note of interest in her voice.

“Naturally,” Padmé threw off, ascending the ramp as Dormé fell into step a pace behind. “The Lepi were very welcoming. I will not hear a bad word said about them.”

“You’d say you got on well with them, My Lady?” Dormé asked. Padmé could feel the smile worming across her handmaiden’s countenance.

“I would say,” Padmé replied smoothly. “And I shall give you a full debriefing once we make orbit.”

With that, the senator departed for her personal quarters, one hand fidgeting inside her robe where she held a piece of flimsi between her finger and thumb—a flimsi bearing the ID signature of a freighter assigned to the Corellian Sector of Nar Shaddaa, aboard which Padmé had arranged a particularly clandestine rendezvous in one standard month. She quietly folded the flimsi in half, and made a mental note to have her galactic tour pass through Hutt Space in thirty days.

For now, though, Togoria awaited—and as far as Padmé was concerned, her subterranean adventure had only been a warm-up for the event to come.

* * * *

EPILOGUE

The inn was crowded, cramped and abuzz with noise. The clientele, mostly spacers and tradesbeings from the foundries and refineries close by, kept to themselves, and the Dug barman paid no more attention to his patrons than the credit chips in their hands. All in all, it was a place in which to hide.

The brunette sat at the end of the bar, a rich velvet hood obscuring her countenance, nursing a multi-colored drink. She felt a presence push itself onto the stool next to her, and lifted her eyes briefly to meet the intent stare of a six-foot green rabbit. “Name’s Jaxxon,” the creature said through buck-teeth, “how about yours?”

A light went on behind the woman’s eyes, and she raised her head, revealing a pair of lush, red lips. “Varina,” she breathed, just loud enough to be heard over the racket.

“Beautiful name fer a beautiful girl. Can I get ya somethin’ ta drink?”

The red lips quirked into a smile, as if recalling something a friend had once told her. “How about something tall, green and full of protein?” she replied.

“I know just the thing,” the rabbit said, and grinned broadly. The brunette gave a light laugh, and Jaxxon leaned in closer, inhaling the scent of her perfume. “Stop me if I’m borin’ you, doll,” he said easily, “but did ya ever hear o’ such a thing as Lepi style?”

“I think I might,” Varina replied, and took the lagomorph by the hand, leading him out of the crowd and into a cool, Coruscant night awash with new possibilities.
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Padmé Goes Star-Hopping