Rating: NC-17
Pairing: O/f
Spoilers: none
Summary: The cure for a rough day at work where you least expect it.
Disclaimer: Obi's George's. Lucky man. He's not mine. Damn.
Notes: Just a little Obi smut fic I felt compelled to write after a rough day at work. Special thanks to Tia who's been encouraging me to do this, and putting up with the ramblings of a demented producer. Enjoy!
You sigh as you finish writing the last story in your show, wondering if anything else can go wrong before you go on air.
Probably.
It's been the day from hell, with changing stories, breaking stories, and suddenly, you're told that THE General Obi Wan Kenobi is coming on your show as a last minute guest.
Which means you had to find three minutes or more for that interview.
Three minutes you didn't have.
But you found them.
Somehow, between shortening, chopping and killing stories right and left, you made a place for the reclusive and respected General.
To tell the truth, you were quite curious to meet him, his reputation was nearly legendary throughout the galaxy. And he'd be in your studio, on your show, tonight.
Pretty heady when you let yourself stop and think about it.
You sigh as you realize you're wasting time, your show airs in a little less than a half an hour.
You hope General Kenobi arrives on time.
***
Twenty minutes later you hear someone announce that the General has arrived. Jumping from your seat you head towards the director's booth, planning to pick up the General on your way and lead him into the studio.
You feel a brief desire to check your appearance as you leave the newsroom, after all, this is THE General, who is reported to be extremely handsome. You check that image as you realize you don't have enough time. Besides, the General will barely notice you, the lowly producer.
Sighing, you make your way to the break room, where you can hear excited voices, mainly female, chatting away.
The General has been discovered.
Taking a deep breath, you enter the room, stopping in your tracks as you see a tall man, dressed entirely in black, surrounded by a group of giggling females.
He doesn't seem to mind all the attention if his smile is anything to go by.
Figures.
"General Kenobi?" you ask, feeling your breath catch as he turns an intense pair of bluish-green eyes your way.
"Yes, and you must be?" he asks as he nods to the females and makes his way out of the gaggle and towards you.
You introduce yourself and ask if he'll follow you out to the set.
You're simply glad you haven't stumbled over your own feet after getting a good long look at him.
He's certainly one of the most beautiful men you've ever met. His body is strong and lithe, though not overly bulky. His eyes are hypnotic, drawing you in and making you forget everything except him. He also carries himself with great ease, as if he is truly comfortable in his own skin.
You envy that feeling for a moment.
"You know, I've always found that one cannot be happy unless one is comfortable in one's own skin."
You jump at the General's words, whirling around to see a slight smile on his face.
"How?" you begin, suddenly trailing off as you realize he must have read your mind.
After all, isn't that what Jedi's do?
"I don't mean to intrude, your thoughts are just very audible," he offered with an endearing smile.
How could you resist that smile?
"It's okay, I guess I don't mind," you offer as you lead him into the huge studio.
"If I may say one more thing," he suddenly offers as you turn to eye him curiously and nod.
"I sense you are very reserved about expressing yourself and your desires. It is not healthy for one so young and beautiful. You should try to be a little more open to your senses and desires. And if you need some help, I'd be glad to oblige," he finishes with a smile as he is dragged away by the studio crew.
You stand there with your mouth open, wondering at his audacity.
You cannot believe he just told you, in a round about way, that you're sexually frustrated.
Not that he would be wrong, but still, it was the principle of the matter.
And had he just offered to help you relieve your sexual frustrations?
That's what it had sounded like.
And what scares you most is that you're seriously tempted to take him up on that offer.
Sighing, you realize you really don't need to be thinking about this now. You have a show to produce.
With a sigh, you head for the director's booth, trying to ignore the fact that an extremely handsome, and by his own words, available man, a General and a Jedi none the less, is only a few rooms away from you.
Actually, I'm really a lot closer. I can be in your mind if you'll let me.
You jump at the soft words that seem to whisper through your head.
Was he really talking to you with his mind?
Yes, through the Force. I can hear your thoughts as you can hear mine.
Hummm.
You decide to attempt your own reply, wondering if you're doing it right.
So you can hear me if I'm thinking to you?
Loud and clear. All your thoughts are perfectly audible to me.
All my thoughts?
Every last one.
You start as you realize your director has been calling your name for the past few minutes. With a sigh, you focus your attention on your show, still mulling over the fact that General Obi Wan Kenobi can read your mind.
It's a pretty nice perk at times. Although at others, it seems more like a curse.
You smile as you settle into your seat, knowing things are on a roll for the moment.
I'll bet. So do you go around mentally talking to every girl you meet?
Only the ones who respond. Many don't.
Oh Really?
Really. Care to try a little something while we're waiting for the interview to hit?
Sounds interesting. What have you got to lose?
Sure, what do you have in mind?
You know its daring, but something sparks inside you, making you sit on the edge of your seat in anticipation.
Picture this. As soon as the show is over, I pull you behind the curtain, out of sight of everyone, but still in easy discovery range. Once I have you alone, I proceed to kiss all the tension right out of your body, until you're limp and relaxed in my arms.
You swallow hard as your body heats at his words. This is a different kind of game he's playing, but one you definitely want to participate in.
So I'm behind the curtain with you, limp as a rag doll in your arms, then what do you do with me?
You feel a shudder of desire ripple through your body as you hear and feel his sensual laughter ringing in your mind.
I proceed to slip my hands under your shirt, reaching up to unclasp your bra and caress your breasts in my hands. I can hear you moaning against my mouth as I stroke each nipple into a tight, hard peak. Your skin is so soft, so sensitive to my touch.
You feel your nipples harden, almost as if he is touching you intimately. Your body is on fire as you breathlessly wait for him to continue.
Unfortunately you've forgotten he is there to do an interview.
You're extremely surprised and disappointed to realize his mental touch has left your mind because he is now answering questions from your anchors.
Sighing, you force your attention back to the show, knowing there is only a few more minutes to get through.
As you listen to the General talk, you find yourself wondering if there's a chance he might make good on his thoughts.
Why don't you come out here after the show and see?
You jump as the mental touch swiftly flies through your brain and you feel fingers brush lightly across your lips.
This has definite possibilities.
***
Your heart is pounding triple time as the show ends and you carefully make your way to the studio, wondering if you only dreamed the entire conversation. As you enter, you feel your mouth go dry at the look the General sends your way.
Nope, definitely not a dream.
You find your attention focused on his hypnotic eyes, even as you answer questions and take comments from your crew. You have no idea what they're saying, but somehow, you formulate reasonable sounding answers.
You fight down a gasp as you watch the General exchange final words with your anchors, then slip off the set and towards your side.
Without a word, he moves past you, pausing only slightly to note if you'll follow.
Feeling a lovely anticipation coursing through your body, you discretely slip away from your crew, following the black clad figure behind the huge curtain that marks a 'backstage' of sorts for the studio set.
The instant you both are surrounded by material, you feel strong arms pull you against a hard chest. You barely have time to gasp as a pair of firm lips descend on yours, kissing you passionately.
You bite back a moan as you feel his tongue stroking against your lips, begging for access. Without a second thought you grant it, sighing as his tongue reaches out to duel with yours. He tastes of spice and something masculine, dark and desirous.
You can't get enough of his kisses.
Desperate to feel more of him, uncaring of how unlike you this is, you press yourself tightly against him, hearing him moan low in his throat as your bodies make contact.
Before you realize what he's doing, his hands are sliding under your shirt and seconds later, your bra is unhooked. You stifle a cry as his warm fingers begin to pluck at your nipples, rolling them into tight hard peaks that ache for his mouth.
Sensing your need, his lips tear away from yours and slide down your collarbone, planting wet kisses against your heated skin along the way.
You cry out softly as that talented mouth suddenly closes over a sensitive breast, suckling it through the thin fabric of your shirt. You whimper in response, pushing forward so he'll take more of you into his mouth.
Your own hands aren't idle.
You have managed to slide them under the billowy black shirt he is wearing and are now scraping your nails down his back as you pull him closer to your heaving chest. You can hear his whimpers and moans as you give yourself free reign to touch him as he is touching you.
Just when you think you can't stand it anymore, you feel one of his free hands slip down to your waist and then lower. You moan softly as his hand slides under your skirt, meeting heated bare skin with a small groan.
You arch your hips against his wandering hand, hoping he'll move higher and bury his fingers exactly where you so desperately need them.
Again he senses your thoughts, and before you can do more than moan, his fingers slide to the juncture between your thighs and begin stroking your wiry curls. The moan he lets out at feeling your wetness against his fingers makes you shudder with desire.
One hand still kneading your breast, he swiftly impales you with two long fingers.
You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out because it feels so good.
You manage to drag open your eyes, seeing those bluish-green ones focused intently on you. You suddenly realize you are in a very public place where anyone could discover you.
The thought only serves to send another gush of wetness to your thighs.
You're panting against his shoulder as he strokes you deftly, somehow twisting his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside you, drawing a low moan from your throat as your body pushes against his.
All you can feel, smell, taste and touch is him.
Nothing else matters.
Not even the thought that you don't know this man, or that you could be discovered any moment by a curious member of your crew.
All you care about is the desire building in your body.
You want this man. You've never wanted anything more in your life.
Except maybe to touch him.
Fighting to move, you manage to slide your hand down to his waist, stroking the hardness you can feel straining against his black trousers. His low moan alerts you to the fact he is nearly past the point of no return.
Knowing you are nearly there yourself, you tug at his zipper, sighing as his hardness springs into your hand and he groans as your fingers tighten around him.
Taking your time to discover what he likes, you stroke him gently, then a little more firmly, noting what makes him tense, what makes him grit his teeth, what makes him jerk and moan against your throat.
You can feel your desire building to a fever pitch as he swells and grows beneath your hand, as eager to be inside you as you are to have him there.
Looking into his eyes, you slide one leg up to wrap around his thigh, opening yourself to him completely.
Never breaking your gaze, he positions himself directly at your center, rubbing himself against you to make sure you're ready for him.
You can barely stand for the desire swamping your system.
You want him inside you now.
With a small groan, you push yourself against him as he thrusts forward.
You bury your head in his neck to hide your cry as he stretches and fills you almost beyond belief.
He feels so strong and hard, so wonderful buried deep inside you!
But you need more.
Sensing your mood, the General begins a steady rhythm, thrusting at just the right angle to rub the most sensitive parts of you, each thrust hitting that sweet spot that makes you groan against his skin.
You throw your head back, eyes closed as you move with him, desperate to find release before you explode. You can tell from his quickening pace, he is nearing the edge as well.
Fall over the edge with me. Let it go. Fall for me.
The mental touch is coupled with an image of the desire he is feeling at this very moment.
It's exactly what you need to send you spiraling over the edge.
Raking your nails down his back, you give your body over to pleasure, your whimpers and moans mixed with his as his body tenses against yours.
A second later you feel him release inside you, his arms pulling you tightly against him as he buries his head in your neck to muffle his moans of completion.
You slowly let the waves of desire recede, amazed you're still standing after what you've just been through.
You feel the General sigh against your throat as he pulls his head back to meet your gaze.
You wonder if you should feel shy or embarrassed.
Not at all. That was truly one of the most remarkable experiences of my life. Yours too I hope?
You smile at the uncertainty obvious even in his mental whisper.
You guess even General's need a little reassurance every now and then.
That was unlike anything I've ever felt before. In fact, I'd like to feel it again.
You wonder if he'll think you too forward. After all, you've just invited him to ravish you again.
But now that you've had a taste of him, you definitely want more.
I think that can be arranged. Can we get out of here without being noticed?
You smile as you reach up to straighten his shirt as he does the same to your clothing. Once you both look somewhat presentable, you plant a quick kiss on his lips as you turn to pull him from behind the curtain.
"Feeling a little less stressed?"
You smile at his words as you lead him from the building.
"You're the best stress relief I've found in years," you reply, trembling as his deep, seductive laughter washes over you in waves.
Things are suddenly looking up.
The End
***
Well, what did you think? I got my Obi fix!
Sara
