Great stuff

Great stuff


He looks scared in this dingy place, with that stranger eyeing him curiously while holding the needle, younger even, kind of like when I met him years ago, but only for half a second, so short only I notice it, and soon his expression is back to that of the composed master Kenobi. Or, well, not master Kenobi but Ben R’hant, new drug dealer in town ready to try this new exotic drug.

The stranger, Kima he said? makes sure the needle doesn’t contain air and motions for Obi-wan to extend his arm. He pulls up his sleeve and shows a white arm with pulsing purple veins. The truth is he looks good like this, with those tight black leather pants accentuating the curves of his ass and thighs, that half transparent shirt, the long black coat and that little bit of kohl under his eyes. Imposing, I’d say, all clattered in black. I see the needle entering his arm, producing a soft whimper from his slightly parted wet lips, and then the tear of red blood that comes out before the man pushes all the liquid in. Obi-wan gasps first, opens his mouth and right before dropping to the floor, he moans. The sound is low and erotic, and I wonder what does that drug do exactly.

“It makes you loose your inhibitions,” explains the guy and I nod without looking at him, completely transfixed by the reactions on Obi-wan’s body, “I’ll leave the two of you alone, I’ll be back soon,” I nod again, getting closer to Obi-wan’s laying figure and hearing the door shut.

Right now I wish I had taken the drug but, of course, I’m just playing Obi-wan’s… well, Obi-wan’s bitch, so it was his job. His skin is covered by a thin cape of sweat by now, and he is starting to shake slightly. He takes his hands to his chest and starts pulling at his coat frenetically.

“So… hot,” he murmurs in a low, hoarse tone, and I get closer and try to free him from the offending piece of clothing. We take it off and he lays down again, his head landing with a loud thud on the wooden floor. He doesn’t seem to care though, because he just rolls his eyes and spreads his limbs, moaning softly.

It doesn’t escape me that this seemingly sudden heat has caused and erection to surge between his legs. He has the tightest pants on and I can perfectly make out the form of his hard member under the leather. I feel my breath quicken as I notice his shirt moving up a bit and showing his hips and navel, a path of dark brown hair getting lost under his pants. I feel my hand moving by its own accord while I lick my suddenly dry lips and, by the time my fingers reach his skin, I’ve already lost the little common sense I have.

“Anakin,” my name comes out of his parted lips as a gasp, so I just get my fingers closer to his navel and then follow the trail of his hair until my palm is boldly pressed against his hard member. He moans loudly, bucking his hips into my hand and, even when I know he can’t be completely conscious, I just move to the zipper of his pants with one hand while the other one goes irremediably to my own extremely hard cock.

I unzip him and pull his pants just a little bit down, enough for his hard flesh to go free. My hand surrounds him with an experience I didn’t know I had, and he curses loud enough for the whole building to hear, which only makes me unzip my own far too tight pants and rub myself softly.

“More,” that’s enough for me to go down on him as… well, as his bitch. Soon enough I lick and suck and fuck him with my mouth while his hips move uncontrollably and his black polished nails dig into my scalp strong enough to make me bleed.

I’m getting even harder by the idea of power over my too composed master, so I take hold of his hips and make him stay still. Then, I bring one of his legs to my shoulder, my mouth never stopping to lick or bite. The tick heel of his boot digs into my back and his hips keep trying to move as I hear him mumble my name until it turns into something incomprehensible.

He comes hard and brutal, with a feral scream he himself would have qualified as uncivilized, and I try not to choke, swallowing as fast as a whore would. His hands fall down my hair and soon he is laying on the floor, spread and beautiful, still under the effects of the drug.

I straddle him almost unconsciously and I stroke myself fast and lacking rhythm while looking at his deliciously parted lips, his bright blue eyes shining with satisfied lust and his Adam’s apple moving up and down with his short unconscious swallows.

“Anakin,” I’m surprised he can talk, but even more that he manages to move his hand and put it on top of mine, making my strokes slower. He moves my hand away, though, so now it’s just his hot elegant fingers moving on me, until he makes my other hand join his. I never thought I would touch myself with my metallic limb, but all of a sudden the idea seems extremely kinky, all that much with Obi-wan’s hand joining it.

I throw my head back and try to control my hips, but I know I’m bucking unconsciously into our hands until, with a flash of white light behind my eyes, I come hot and long and better than ever. I moan loudly, or at least I think that’s my voice, and then I let my weight drop on Obi-wan, whose hand stays wrapped around me until, who knows how much time later, our provider opens the door.

“So?” that’s all he says and, looking at Obi-wan’s face, not scared but beautiful and lustful, all I manage is a poor:

“Great stuff.”