Is it possible to die of embarrassment?
I mean, true, it would have been bad to be caught snooping in my
master's room. Not that I was really snooping, per say, I was just
checking his robe size so I could order a new one from Requisitions
like he asked me to. And I was a little curious about the other clothes
that were in his closet, so I was just going to take a peek, just a
little look...
Ok, so I was snooping.
And that would have been embarrassing to explain but surely not as
embarrassing as this, my cheeks were furnace-hot and I was nearly
quivering with mortification. Quivering with something anyway.
I mean, I only meant to hide in his closet for a minute. He was home
far earlier than I had expected him and, well, it had just been an
impulse, a panicked reaction to his presence. If he had walked in and
found me in his room, I doubt he would have done more than raise an
eyebrow at me like he does and watch me stammer out an apology. My own
embarrassment over getting caught often seemed to be punishment enough
where Qui-Gon was concerned. So, I'd hidden in the closet. I should
have come out immediately, confessed then before it got too deep, but
when I saw what he was doing...
Somehow, I doubted all I'd get out of this was a raised eyebrow.
Were all the closets in the temple this hot? Not that I was planning
running tests on the theory or anything, but Qui-Gon's closet was like
sitting inside of a sun. My clothes were already damp with sweat and I
felt like I was about to start hyperventilating. And it wasn't exactly
comfortable, huddled in with heavy robes and old boots. How long was
this going to take anyway?
By now I was trying not to squirm as well as concentrating on keeping
silent. It was so -hot- in here. But then, maybe I can't blame it all
on the closet. Maybe just a teeny tiny bit of it is my fault. I mean,
it's bad enough that I'm stuck here in the closet listening, I don't
really have to watch to, do I?
Of course I do. And pass up on an opportunity like this? Really, it's
kind of interesting, fascinating even. Is that how I look? My face
tight, my muscles straining like that? It almost looked like he was in
pain; that would be my first assumption, if I didn't know better. And
now I found myself hoping that he wouldn't hurry, even if I was
sweating like a gula pig and crouched in a tiny boot-scented closet.
How was I supposed to have known that my master would come home early
from his meetings, go straight to his bedroom, strip off and
masturbate? In the middle of the day, even! I would have thought this
was something that you outgrew, that a Jedi Master would have more
control but apparently not.
He was stroking himself hard, one hand between his legs, cupping his
balls and his other moving rapidly up and down. And the sounds he was
making, groans and gasps and who would have thought that the restrained
Qui-Gon Jinn would ever make sounds like that.
I never would have thought so.
And I just watched, rampaging banthas couldn't have pulled my eyes away
and I was so -hot-, steaming hot and I was touching myself before I'd
even thought about it, slipping my hand down the front of my pants and
stroking my own erection.
He was arching off the bed now, his hand moving faster and he was
close, I could see he was close and I was close and he cried out when
he came, spurting white fluid over his clenched fist and his stomach.
His hand moved slower now, gentling, and it was that hand, lightly
tracing patterns over his wet cock that finally pushed me over. I
covered my mouth with my hand and bit down hard, muffling my own cries
as I came, so hot, so unbelievably hot, white-hot, sweat dripping down
my face and trickling down the small of my back and hot fluid spilling
over my hand to dampen my trousers.
I nearly fell over in the closet, only just caught myself with my free
hand and I know I made a noise, but he didn't look. Too caught up in
the aftermath I suppose. He was so remarkably sedate about it, cleaning
up and pulling his clothes back on, like he came home and did this
every day. Well, for all I knew he did, I wondered what excuse I could
come up with for hanging around our quarters all day long.
-Finally-, he was leaving. I knew that he'd have to eventually, he had
a Council meeting later on and...what? What was that look? I could swear
he looked right at me but that wasn't possible. He'd have spoken to me
right away if he'd known I was there, certainly he wouldn't have done
that, not if he'd known I was watching.
Would he?
-finis--
Comments and questions to: bsp; mailto:keelywolfe@gmail.com
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