2.11 Tuesday. University Campus. Lecture Theatre.
"Finish lecture, finish lecture, come on, come ON!!"
Jenny sat on the edge of her seat in the lecture theatre, looking continually at her watch for the last few minutes to pass to complete the hour. One hand on her bag, poised to make a run for it, she began bopping up and down ever so slightly as she did the customary Impatience Jiggle known to all students all over the universe.
"I have better things to be doing than sitting HERE you know!" she mouthed to the oblivious lecturer at the front of the room. She sent him a death glare and his pen went shooting out of his hand, jamming itself in the overhead projector, causing the entire machine to break down.
Jenny smirked rather evilly for a non-Sith.
"Thank you, Obi-Wan," she thought to herself. "Knew learning that would come in handy one day."
She refocused on the lecturer in time to hear him mumble an apology.
"I'm sorry class, it looks like we'll have to finish a little early due to the slide projector breaking. No idea how that happened. Strange coincidence that..."
Jenny indulged in another self-satisfying grin and ran out of the room. In less than five minutes she was standing outside a little known maintenance building at the remote end of the campus. She brought out of her pocket the spare key she'd stolen from the groundskeeper's room and unlocked the door.
"Miss me, boys?"
Obi-Wan, currently down on his hands and knees, being mounted from behind by his Master, twisted his head around to the door.
"Master!!"
"Ye- OWWWW!! DAMMIT, Obi-Wan!! If I've told you once, I've told you a *thousand* times...!"
Jenny giggled as she watched Qui-Gon cup a palm gently over his braid-whipped eye.
"Sorry Master," cooed the Padawan, shifting his hips around suggestively against Qui-Gon's groin in an attempt to gain forgiveness. Needless to say it worked; Qui-Gon's eye injury was completely forgotten.
"Now boys," began Jenny, once she'd managed to bring their attention back to her once again. "Firstly, Obi-Wan, how about you call me 'Jenny' for convenience's sake, instead of 'Master', as you're confusing Qui-Gon."
"But..." began Obi-Wan, his lower lip starting its customary wobble, "you're my Master, too, Master!"
"And mine," added Qui-Gon. "Not that I need a Master, but apparently that reasoning doesn't count in the face of an omnipotent slash writer who wishes to keep Jedi as her sex slaves..."
"Complaining?" Jenny asked, amusement registering in her eyes.
Qui-Gon looked down at himself. His oiled, muscular body was completely devoid of clothing. The only thing covering any part of his skin was the metal collar attached to his neck, which was joined to a chain securing him to the post in the centre of the small room. He then looked down at his Padawan who was similarly naked, oiled, and additionally had, he knew from experience, a lifetime supply of lube conveniently up inside him to save them precious time during periods of randiness. Which happened rather often. Obi-Wan also had only a collar and leash on him, attaching him to the central post. Additionally and most importantly in Qui-Gon's mind, was the fact that his sexy little Padawan was currently and continually underneath him, his perfect shapely backside stuck up at just the right angle against the Jedi Master's cock.
"No. No problems here," replied Qui-Gon sincerely.
Jenny grinned at her two favourite boys.
"I see you've had no trouble amusing yourselves while I was gone."
Obi-Wan blushed pink while Qui-Gon shook his head with a 'I-don't-know-why-he-blushes-when-he's-the-dirtiest-slut-I-know' look on his face.
"Master!" complained Obi-Wan in shock.
"Oops. I forgot to block my thoughts again, didn't I?" muttered Qui-Gon, feeling a case of the geriatrics coming on. "My poor mind...crumbling apart..."
Obi-Wan giggled.
"You're very cute when you get all feeble-minded like that, Master," he said, a slight hint of arousement registering in his voice.
"Oh, Obi-Wan...I'm so forgetful...and weak..."
"Oh, Master...how about your...hands...?"
"Oh, Obi-Wan, they're falling to pieces!! Arthritis in...both!"
"Oooooohhh, MASTER!!"
"Yes, Padawan! And I'm weak, and forgetful, too!"
"OOOOOoo, Master! You already mentioned that!!"
"Alzheimers!!"
"OOOOOOOOOOOohhhhhhh!!!!!"
"Senility!!"
"OOOOOOooo, MASTER!!!!"
"Boys!!!"
The two Jedi snapped out of it, giving a fairly impressive attempt at pretending that being down on their hands and knees, naked on the floor, groping each other was about as normal an activity as, say, attending a lecture. Well, for them it was.
"Yes?" asked Obi-Wan, stretching his luck a little too far.
"Nice try, Obi-Wan," said Jenny, with a smile. "You know I appreciate you two jumping each other at every chance you get...Come to think of it that's purely why I keep you..." She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Why did I stop you, again?"
"Becau-"
"That was a rhetorical question, Qui-Gon."
"Sorry."
* * *
It only took Jenny a few more minutes to settle back and contemplate the fun she was going to have with her boys before her next lecture. While her mind churned away, the Jedi were back to amusing themselves in the best way they knew how.
"I spy with my third eye, something beginning with J."
"Would it be 'Jedi' by any chance, my dear little Padawan?"
"Oo, Master! It is!! You're *so* smart!!"
"I know, Obi-Wan," replied the Jedi Master, not very modestly. "My turn. I spy with my third eye, something beginning with B."
"Would it be my beautiful buttocks, Master?" inquired Obi-Wan, shaking the body part in question.
"Why yes it would, my clever boy," replied Qui-Gon, giving the correct body part a light slap with his huge hand.
"Oo, Master!!"
"Padawan!!"
"Do you realise that you two are becoming a broken record?" asked Jenny as she sat against the wall watching the interaction with amusement.
"We don't have records in the possibly distant future, in a galaxy far, far, away, so we have no idea what you're talking about," replied Qui-Gon with a huff, his feelings hurt. His 'Master! Padawan!' interactions were one of the favourite parts of his daily routine.
"You have a daily routine, Master?" asked Obi-Wan innocently.
"Are you reading my mind again, Padawan?"
"I can't help it, Master. It's just that...in your old age you can't keep your mental barriers up properly...and did you know that you're showing your age by admitting you're stuck in a daily routine...?"
Qui-Gon's face registered understanding of where his dear little Padawan was heading.
"Yeeeesss...my poor, feeble mind is at it again...isn't it, my poor little Padawan, who has to cope with his aged Master always being a burden to him..."
Obi-Wan groaned.
"Oh, yes, Master! I have to...dress you...feed you...help you shower...help you find your extra-large sized Yoda walking stick every time you lose it, due to your fraying memory..."
"Don't forget my wandering bladder, Padawan."
Obi-Wan paused.
"Hmm...yeah, well that's a *little* gross..."
"Obi-Wan!"
"Sorry, Master. I mean, of course your wandering bladder is very attractive to me, um, as it means that I lead a very put-upon life, having to clean up after you all the time...when I could be enjoying myself with a younger crowd..."
"Yes, Obi-Wan. It's amazing you put up with me, really," commented the Jedi Master sadly, as he curled his arms around his Padawan's waist and started walking a trail downwards with his fingers. "I mean, what a terribly feeble, crotchety, burdensome, incompetent-"
"Oh, Master!! Take me *NOW*!!!"
Just as Jenny settled back to watch the two Jedi frantically grope at each other in a pre-sex rampage, she heard the clock outside strike three.
"Goddammit!! Dammit!! Goddammit!!! WHYYYY?? Why meeee??!!!"
Standing up, she gave her boys one last look, noticing that Obi-Wan currently had managed to do an amazing feat of gymnastics by somehow upside-down, back-to-front, sixty-niner'ing Qui-Gon amidst a flood of moans, groans, and complaints from the Jedi Master about long lost muscles being discovered painfully, his hips falling out of place, and his failing memory not helping him remember how to have sex.
She shook her head and smiled warmly.
"Tell me I'm not the luckiest person in the universe..." she mumbled to herself, and she turned on her heel and walked out the door. As she turned the key in the lock, the last thing she heard was:
"Goddamn, your *braid*, Padawan!!"
"Geriatric, senile, feeble, weak old man!!"
***
THE END.