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Tell Me

Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: About a week after "Number Theory" -- Qui's away on a mission, and he's horny. He comms Obi.
Warnings: None. Well, okay, this is really intense. Have a toewel handy...
Disclaimer: No harm intended. I own none of this. Just for fun.
Feedback: Of course.

Beta's Note: "Helens is very sorry if she missed any typos in the beta process. This story melted her brain."


This mission has taken longer than I expected. I've been away for nearly two weeks now, and I have at least another week of work before I can make the 5-day-long trek back to Coruscant. I thought I'd be home by now.

It occurred to me last night as I lay in bed, wound up tight and unable to sleep, that this is the longest stretch of time I've gone without having sex in -- a couple of months? Before I started going to clubs with Obi-Wan, it wasn't something I engaged in that regularly. I suppose I didn't know what I was missing.

I was initially surprised at how much I liked casual, anonymous sex. I would have sworn that I had long ago outgrown that sort of thing. Then again, I never really had been exposed to such establishments before, and I confess that I had only fantasized about what occurred in such places. I fantasized about what Obi-Wan did there, how he looked -- perhaps dressed like a slut and pressed up against a wall...

Mmmm... I have to slide my hand inside my sleep pants at this point, as that image still gets me hard, even though I've now seen it in person quite a few times. My hand curls comfortably around my cock and I stroke idly, not in a hurry, wanting to prolong this for a while.

I've never had Obi-Wan in one of those sex clubs. We go together, we fuck other people, and then we leave together. Often we fuck each other later, at home, but not always. I still sometimes fantasize about it, though. I pretend that I don't know him, and slide up against him on the dance floor, flirting darkly with him for a while before dragging him bodily to the back room to fuck him so hard that...

I stroke a little faster.

We met anonymously once, a few months ago, before we started... whatever it is we're doing now. It was quite erotic, but I don't think I could completely pretend he was a stranger even then. I was worried about the impact of a sexual relationship on our training relationship. I still am concerned, quite honestly, but not so much now as I was then. He seems to enjoy his lifestyle, and fucking me on a regular basis hasn't slowed him down any. He doesn't act any differently around me in public than he ever has. After his recent experience with that young padawan who turned up in his maths course, I think he has an inkling of what I worry about, though.

I no longer worry that he will fall in love with me. As for me? Well...

I have no idea. And at the moment, it's not at the top of my list of things to be concerned about.

I do miss him, though. At the moment, I particularly miss his mouth, and the way it would feel if I were fucking it slowly...

I wonder... I pick up the comlink and punch in his code. The long silence becomes loud in my ears as I wait. Force, I hope he's--


"Hello, Obi," I growl, not realizing until the words leave my mouth how my voice has been affected by my arousal.

"Qui, what are you doing?" he asks. I can hear the grin in his voice, the one that tells me he already knows what I'm doing. Oh, how I wish I were close enough to feel his presence. That has been the hardest thing, I think.

"You tell me what I'm doing," I reply.

I hear the sound of cloth rustling -- it's mid-afternoon on Coruscant, and he's probably just back from teaching. He's got time for this.

"I think you're lying in a big empty bed, all alone, horny as fuck... and touching yourself."

"Perhaps. Tell me more."

"Hmmm..." There is a pause, and he seems to be gathering his thoughts. "You started slowly, stroking your cock with your fingers lightly -- teasing yourself."

"Oh?" I hear more rustling, and I imagine that he's settled back on the sofa, his shaft in hand, doing to himself just what he's describing to me.

"You grasp your cock at the base, then slide one finger underneath and trace it slowly along the length, up towards the head. Is that what you're doing?"

"Yes," I reply, a little breathy now. This is thrilling -- it's as if he's doing this to me himself. "Tell me more."

"You stroke that sensitive spot on the underside of the head for a moment, making circles with your fingertip, but not with much pressure -- feathery." His breathing is speeding up now. The thought that we're both doing the same thing to ourselves at the same time is incredibly erotic. "Now, slide that finger up to swirl around in the fluid that's leaking from the slit." He sucks in his breath. "Tell me how it feels."

I take over easily. "It feels good, the slickness and the heat against my finger. I bring that finger up to my lips to taste myself there."

"Mmmm... oh, Force, Qui..."

"You always taste slightly spicy to me... do you taste it?"

"Yes, I do. What do you taste like?"

"Tell me."

"You taste... smoky, I think. Something dark. I don't know."

"Now that finger is wet, and I circle my nipple with it slowly." My nipples are quickly hard under my own touch. "You like it when I pinch them."


"Do it."

"Mmmm, yesss... Now slide your hand down across your stomach, so that your fingertips just brush the hair there, but don't touch your cock. Swirl them there for a moment. The anticipation and the feel of that small tug on your skin... do you like that?"

"Mmmm... yes, I do." I want to grasp my cock firmly in my hand, but I also want to wait until he tells me to do it, tells me how to do it.

"Do you want to touch your cock?"

"I'm waiting for you to tell me to."

"Good. I like that. Wet your fingers, all of them, and then cup your balls in your hand."

I do so, rolling them between my fingers gently, the way I imagine he would if he were here.

"Now squeeze just a little, and let your fingers slide... how's that?"

"Nice," I breathe. It's getting more and more difficult to obey that voice and not just pump my cock hard.

"You really want to, don't you?"

For a moment, I wonder if he really can sense me from this distance. But that's not what I want to think about now. "Yes, please..."

"All right, then. Wet your fingers again, and wrap your hand around your cock at the base. Now, slowly, stroke up to the head, pulling the skin tight. Rub your thumb around the slit to spread the fluid around a bit."

"Ohhh... that feels fucking great, Obi... are you...?"

"Yes, yes... now back down. Do you like the way the skin slides under your hand?"


"Do you want to go a little faster?"

"Yes, please..."

"Then do it, and tell me."

I begin pumping my hand up and down my cock at a slow but steady pace, adding a slight twist near the head to brush my fingers against that spot... I hiss softly.

"Tell me, Qui." I sense a little tension in that voice.

"Stroke up, and twist your palm out... right hand, yes?"

"Yes," he says, voice a hoarse whisper now.

"Rotate out at the top of the stroke, and then back down. Let your fingers stroke your balls at the bottom. Up now... down... up... down..."

"Oh, fuck..."

"Do you want to go faster?"

"Not yet... I don't want it to be over yet."

"I wish this was your mouth instead of my own hand."

"Oh, yes, so do I. I wish I could taste you right now. I wish I could press the tip of my tongue into the slit, then suck the head slowly into my mouth, fastening my lips right under the crown. And just suck hard, swirling my tongue around slowly."

Those words elicit a moan from me, and my hand moves faster of its own accord.

"Qui, your other hand?"


"Wet your finger, and spread your legs."

Oh, I know where this is going. "Yes, please..." I comply rather enthusiastically.

"Pump yourself slower. Tease just the outside of your hole with your finger - don't penetrate yet."

I whimper slightly, and I can almost see the grin on his face.

"Now, what do you want me to do? Tell me."

I take a deep breath. "I want you to press your finger inside just a little, just the tip, and pull it back out again. Feel how your body grabs onto it, trying to pull it in deeper?"


"Now press in again. Wait, do you have any lube around?"

"Yeah, hang on a sec--" There is a pause, accompanied by a little background noise. I quickly locate a small bottle of lube in my bag and pour a bit into my hand, waiting. It feels slightly oily, slick on my palm as I rub my hands together, warming it. I love this stuff. It washes off easily but lasts longer than a Rilati in rutting season.

Oh, that brings back a memory--

"I'm back."

"Pour some lube into your palm and spread it around on your hands. Spread it on your cock, slowly."

He sucks in his breath. "Oh, fuck... you have no idea how hard I am right now."

"Oh, but I do." I grin, stroking myself a few slow times, covering my cock so that it gleams with moisture. "More lube, on one finger this time."

"Just one?"

"For now. Patience, Padawan."

"Shut the fuck up."

I grin again. He doesn't like to be reminded of his rank at times like this. He prefers to think of us as equals in bed. I can't help it, though. I have to remember, since he won't.

"Do you want to finger yourself?"

"Want to know what I really want?"


"I want you to get your sweet ass back to Coruscant so that I can bury my cock in it."

That comment goes straight to my groin. "Too bad the Senate banned that research on particle transporters. That could, in theory, make it a very short trip."

"But I'll settle for a finger now, yes. Tell me what to do. Hurry."

I tease my opening with a slick fingertip, imagining him doing the same, lying on his back, knees in the air, hand between his legs...


"Swirl the lube around for a few seconds. Now press your fingertip in again, just a little, and draw it back out." I get a moan for that. "Push it back in again, a little further. Twist your finger as you pull it out." I hiss as I do it to myself, melting a little further into the mattress.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck..."

"Don't you dare come," I plead. "Not yet. You take over." Maybe being in the pilot seat will help him slow things down.

"Ummm... just keep fucking yourself slowly, pushing in as deep as you can, then twisting on the way out."

It does feel good, and I moan in response. "Can I just do this for a while?"

"Yes, Qui. Do you still have your cock in your other hand?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

"Keep stroking, but slowly. Push your finger in and keep it there. Feel for the swelling... stroke it."

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck..." Now it's my turn. I was waiting for him to let me do that. I have to loosen my grip on my cock. I don't want this to end, not yet.

"Do it again."

I hiss in response. Is he trying to make me come so quickly, or does he know that I'll try to hold off for as long as possible?

"How close are you?"

"Too close, not yet, please..."

"Then don't come. Ready for another finger?"

I nod, then remember that he can't see me. I grunt something that sounds affirmative.

"More lube."

I comply, finding the bottle again and pouring too much onto my hand. Some of it drips onto the bed. Oh, great, a wet spot -- and I'm only fucking myself.

"Press into yourself with two fingers now, slowly."

I'm sure I'm making noise, but it's hard to focus on anything other than the sound of his voice and the feeling of my own fingers inside me, stretching me, stroking. The soft heat of my passage feels good on my fingers, and I try to imagine that my fingers are inside Obi-Wan, and that his are inside me -- that's too much to think about. Just feel.

"Tell me what you're feeling," I hear myself say.

"It feels good, but I wish I was stretching myself for you. I want to feel you inside me. I love the way your cock fills me. It always hurts a little when you first push in, but I love that." He's breathing harder now, and his words are more exhaled than spoken. His voice has a slight crackle to it, since the signal has to travel so far, and be relayed through several hyper-comm channels.

I wonder if anyone else is listening to this?

"I love the feel of the skin on your cock sliding while you're stroking me on the inside. I love to feel your balls slap against mine when I'm on my hands and knees. I... ooohhh fuck... I..."

"Tell me, please." I'm fucking myself as deeply as I can with my fingers, and the angle is awkward. I'm stroking my cock roughly, trying to hang on until he comes, on the edge with every stroke.

"Mmmm... Qui, tell me how much you like to fuck me, please."

"I love the way your body sucks me in, so hot, and I can't get deep enough, and I want to bury myself in you..." One firm touch against my prostate and I can't stop it, I... "Ooohhhh..." I can't think... I... oh, fuck, that was... I can hear his climax, triggered by the sound of mine, perhaps, and it sounds equally intense. I lie still while I listen, fingers of one hand still wrapped around my softening penis, fingers of the other hand still pressed into my ass. There are three fingers -- when did that happen?

"Force, Qui, that was... we need to do that more often."

I smile at that, releasing myself and stretching. I pull the bed coverings back over my body and snuggle down into the bed, ignoring the wet spot. "I think I'd rather do it in person, though."

"Mmmm, but it's certainly preferable to whacking off alone."

"At least you have alternatives at the moment."

"Yes, I suppose I do. If I get these assignments graded, I'll probably go pursue one of those alternatives."

"I'm jealous. I have to get up early and spend the day with pretentious diplomats. Will you comm me tomorrow and tell me how you made out?"

"Oh, you'd like details?"

"Yes. I'd love to hear the details of a story involving you being fucked into a wall by... a well-dressed, really gorgeous man. Somebody who doesn't hit the clubs very often. He's been watching you for a while, maybe for weeks, and tonight he makes his move? You dance with him for a while, before you take him by the hand and lead him to the back room. Maybe he makes you suck him off first..."

There is a moment of unreadable silence on the other end of the line. "Oh, so I'm supposed to go out and fulfill your fantasies?"

"It was just a request. You don't have to make any promises."

"I never do." There is something in his tone of voice that I can't identify, but I don't want to dwell on it right now. I want to bask in the post-orgasmic glow for a while.

"Qui, I miss you. It's not as much fun going out without you. Hurry back."

My stomach flutters a bit, and I swallow the sensation down hard. Wishful thinking will get me nowhere. I should just take what he offers me without reading more into it than is truly there.

"I miss you too. I don't know how much longer it will be. I'm sorry about that."

"I know. Sleep well, Master."

"I will, Padawan. Have fun tonight."


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