So Uncivilized

The Senate Apartment Complex. Home to dignitaries from all over the Republic, the proud residence of thousands of the galaxy's finest lawmakers. Luxurious, highly secure, it was a monument to the Republic's prestige and the respect accorded its highest functionaries.

If only the holographers could have gotten inside, they would have been astounded by what they saw. Luckily, the security kept them far, far away. This was wonderful news for Padme Amidala, the occupant of the building's penthouse, and her current guest.

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi coughed, purple-tinged smoke curling from his mouth. Padme, curled up on the opposite sofa, couldn't help but giggle. "So, what do you think?"

The Jedi dragged in air, holding up the smoldering cigarillo. "What in all the Corellian hells is this stuff?"

"Gungan giggle-leaf. Yes, before you ask, they came up with the name." She could still remember when Jar-Jar had first come to her with it. Even after these years she could barely understand him, especially when he was excited. Leaning back, the Senator pulled her Vjun silk dressing gown closer around her, luxuriating in the sensation of the expensive fabric on her skin. "Hopefully Naboo's newest export."

Obi-Wan sank into the other couch, heavy robes pooling on the cushions. They were out on the veranda, light curtains fluttering lazily around elegantly shaped pillars in the morning breeze. "And you called me here for... what exactly? And why so early?"

"For the giggle-leaf. I tried to find you at the temple last night, but they said you were off doing Jedi business, whatever that means." Padme ran her fingers through her hair, so glad that she wasn't planning on going outside today. None of the elaborate hairstyles required by her position, which was just wonderful. Just a day of relaxation. "I wanted to get your input. And... well, I didn't expect you to get here so quickly." Waving at herself, she gave him a sheepish grin. "Or I'd have gotten properly dressed."

She'd actually had no intention of putting real clothes on, but she wasn't about to tell the Jedi that. For some reason, she thought a Jedi Master might react oddly. But Obi-Wan seemed to be defying all expectations today- he'd actually partaken of the giggle-leaf without any assurances of its suitability for human consumption. Of course, he was a fairly easy-going fellow.

It felt odd that he was a Master on the Jedi Council now. Padme remembered him as a Padawan, back on Naboo and Tatooine, during those dark days. Now, during darker days, he was almost the same. Older, more experienced, but still the same Obi-Wan.

He shrugged, putting the cigarillo to his lips again and taking a long drag. "It's... quite interesting."

If that wasn't the truth. Padme flipped open the small flimsiplast box on the sofa next to her, withdrawing another cigarillo between thin, perfectly manicured fingers. "Mild spice, thoroughly tested on Naboo and by independent parties. Euphoria, mild medicinal use, and only slight lung damage, easily repairable with bacta..." Taking up the small, chromed igniter, she lit the thing, inhaling the smooth smoke. "I enjoy it, at least. We're currently negotiating deals with a few of the larger trade cartels to export on a large scale."

"That's fair, Senator, but what did you need me for?"

Senator. Always so careful with his words. Masters were like that, she'd heard. Anakin always told her about those things. "Please, Obi-Wan. Padme. We're not in public."

The Jedi grinned, motioning towards her. "As indicated by your attire- or lack thereof."

"Why, Master Jedi!" the Senator exclaimed in mock indignity, drawing her dressing gown tighter about yourself. "I can't believe you'd comment on a woman's lack of clothing. Isn't that against the Code?"

Obi-Wan's free hand came up to stroke his beard. "Only if there's some sort of attachment there. Appreciation of beauty has never been forbidden."

She giggled, pointing the cigarillo at him. "Obi-Wan, did you just call me beautiful?"

"Hmm." The older Jedi's brow furrowed, and he glanced down at the giggle-leaf in his hand. "I suppose I did. A slip of an unguarded tongue..."

"So you're saying I'm ugly, then."

"Rather that it isn't my place to determine some things." That was the diplomat speaking right there, the Jedi who had defused so many conflicts in the past. "Speaking of attachment, how is Anakin?"

And there he went, on the offensive. Obi-Wan used words like he used his lightsaber, although in this case they were clearly meant in jest. "Oh, he's quite all right- you'd know better than I, though."

The Jedi shrugged. "I'm his Master. It used to be we talked about everything. However, due to some disagreements on the Code... I don't think he respects me as much as he used to."

"Disagreements on the Code?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "On the nature of his relationship with you."

That wasn't a surprise. He'd come and spoken to her a few times about it. Padme still wasn't sure exactly what he knew, but he was definitely aware that they were in an intimate relationship, and he did not want them to continue it. Anakin couldn't stand it, she knew that, too.

"And what's wrong with it?" she asked, voice pointed.

"Oh, nothing." The Jedi spread robed arms wide. "Frankly, I'm quite happy for you two. But it's unsuitable for a Jedi. With the power we wield, we cannot allow our judgment to be clouded by such things."

"Hmm." She took another drag, letting the sweet smoke cloud her mind with happiness again. "He's all right. Doesn't believe you have any room to speak on attachment."

Siri Tachi, her mind said, but her mouth said nothing. That would be horribly insensitive. She'd been killed not too long back. You didn't bring up someone's lost love like that.

Obi-Wan grinned. "I've never been the perfect Jedi. Perhaps it's Qui-Gon's teachings, but I must admit, even before that I was never quite good at it, especially in regards to females."

Padme matched his smile with her own, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I've heard stories from Anakin..."

"That time on Corellia? He was part of it too-"

Corellia? She hadn't heard of that one. Although she had heard stories of some things they'd got up to together. "Ooh? What happened on Corellia?"

He looked askance at her. "This so-called giggle-leaf has got me spilling all my secrets today." Running fingers through his hair, he shrugged again, robes rising and falling in a cascade of brown fabric. "A cantina on Corellia- well, there were a pair of Twi'lek females. Are you sure he didn't tell you this story?"

"A Jedi Master in a cantina with two Twi'lek females- yes, I'm quite sure I'd have remembered that. No, I was thinking more about the time you two and that Bagwa girl from Dex's-"

Obi-Wan sat up. "Oh, he didn't tell you about that, did he?"

"I think he's even got some flatholos around here somewhere..."

The Jedi's hand came up to cover his face. "Well, that must be rather messy."

Padme shrugged. "Actually rather hot. You two did a number on her. Looked like she'd never walk quite the same again."

Anakin had shown her those flatholos. Apparently he and Obi-Wan got into some rather impressive situations fairly often. Hermione Bagwa, the waitress at Dex's Diner, one of Obi-Wan's favorite spots on Coruscant, was well known for her figure and the tight dresses she somehow managed to squeeze her curves into. If those holos were anything to go by, she could be equally as well known for her anus and the things she somehow managed to squeeze into it.

"You and Anakin have a far different relationship than I'd thought..."

Padme laughed out loud. "I'm not a possessive woman, and I can't sate all of his desires myself, especially when we're apart so often." This wasn't quite the turn she'd expected things to take today, but especially with the assistance of the giggle-leaf, she was not at all opposed to it.

The Jedi quirked an eyebrow. "Does he feel the same about you? From what I've seen, Anakin's sadly the jealous type."

"Not at all." She winked at him playfully. "I get my fun."

"How do you keep that sort of stuff off the HoloNet? It seems to be all the news every time you wear something even mildly provocative."

"I'm careful. I don't go out, I keep it all in here."

"Hmm." Obi-Wan looked off into the middle distance pensively, bringing the cigarillo up to his mouth once more for a long drag. Breathing out a violet cloud, he ground out the butt in the ashtray on the couch next to him and adjusted his position.

There was a distinct tent in his tunic.

"Why, Master Obi-Wan, you seem to be somewhat uncomfortable there...

He glanced down. "Oh. Ahh... yes..."

That tent was... quite sizeable, to say the least. From the state of that Bagwa girl in the flatholos, she could have assumed as much, but of course it was always better in person.

Padme would be lying if she hadn't fantasized about this before.

Stubbing her giggle-leaf butt out on the lid of the box Jar-Jar had given her, the Senator pushed herself to her feet. By no means was she tall, but with Obi-Wan slouched down in the sofa she towered over him. It was a good feeling. The giggle-leaf was hitting the Jedi hard, from what she could see- his eyes were glassy, slightly reddened, and focused intently on the triangle of bare skin exposed at the neck of her dressing gown.

She shed the garment, silk whispering over her skin and pooling elegantly on the floor. Obi-Wan stared, mouth slack, eyes roving down over her body; a wicked grin crossed Padme's face at that. That was exactly the effect she'd hoped for. She was wearing a rather expensive lingerie set, a balcony of white Alderaanian lace displaying her modest breasts spectacularly, matching panties accentuating the curves of her hips. It had been meant for whenever Anakin returned home... but this worked just as well. "Can I take your silence as approval, Master Jedi?" she asked teasingly, fingers tracing the curve of her right breast.

It took a second, but then he shook his head slightly and glanced up at her face. "Hm? What was that, Senator?"

She put a knee between his legs, dangerously close to that tent, and leaned in to put her lips to his ear, lace-covered breasts up against coarse robes. "I asked if you liked what you saw, Obi-Wan..."

Her thin fingers delved into the folds of his robes, slipping into his trousers. The Jedi didn't answer her, instead just letting out a low groan as perfectly-manicured fingernails traced over the soft flesh of his member.

Force, he was thick. The Senator tried to wrap her hand around it, and her fingertips weren't anywhere close to touching. She could feel the veins pulsing, durasteel-hard meat throbbing in her hand. Obi-Wan gasped, mouth opening wide, eyes half-closed.

Padme suppressed a groan of her own. That sound that had come out of his mouth- and she had made that happen. She'd made Obi-Wan do that. Obi-Wan, the straight-laced Jedi Master, whose cock was throbbing in her hand.

If only Master Yoda could see this- she wondered if Obi-Wan would keep his seat on the Council, if the little green alien knew.

The Senator dropped to her knees, at the same time pulling the Jedi Master's cock out from the depths of his trousers- and what a cock it was. However big it felt, it looked many times larger than that. Long and fat, the head dark, glistening precum dribbling down the gigantic slab of Jedi meat. It was glorious.

Padme realized that her mouth was hanging open in a way entirely unbecoming of a former queen and current Senator. Blinking away her surprise, she clamped her jaw shut, pursing her lips. "Obi-Wan, that's enormous."

"Hmm?" He met her eyes with his own, blinking slowly. The leaf was really getting to him, it would appear. "Oh. Yeah, I guess."

"No, it definitely is, no guessing required."

His cock throbbed in her hand, hot flesh pulsing against her palm. Another pearly-white drop of precum emerged, running down his engorged glans. Kriff, it was a monster. Delicately, she folded to her knees, tongue flicking out gently to run up that livid purple head, scooping the delicious beads of fluid from the throbbing work of art jutting from Obi-Wan's lap. The Jedi's head fell back, gasping again, a hand coming down to grip her hair.

Padme shuddered, sagging against Obi-Wan, cheek against his veined, dripping manhood. "Fucking pull it." she hissed, feeling herself soak those three hundred credit panties. "Hard."

She always had to have her hair up, in the absurd styles required of a Senator from Naboo. Always had to have it perfect, untouched. Except for now, in her own space, doing what she loved.

Obi-Wan obliged, jerking her against his cock by that famous hair. She cried out, mind blanking in ecstasy. "Yesss!" the Senator hissed, tears of pleasure emerging from her wide, needy eyes. "Treat me like the filthy underlevel slut I am-"

The Jedi Master cockslapped her. It took Padme completely by surprise. That fucking thing was heavy. It had hurt, quite a bit.

She loved it.

The Senator didn't get a chance to think about it; he pulled her onto his cock, stuffing the enormous slab of flesh into her little mouth. She had to open as wide as possible to take it in and avoid scraping with her teeth, but she managed it well enough- at least, Obi-Wan didn't voice any objections, instead ramming his rod into the back of her throat. Using her just like a Nar Shaddaa hooker.

Padme came just from the thought, her whole body seizing, an explosion of ecstasy tearing her mind apart. She returned to her body a second later, struggling for air, gagging on what had to be at least thirty centimeters of cock. Always the gentleman, Obi-Wan hauled her off him in an explosion of saliva and precum.

She hauled in air, chest heaving. The Jedi, unconcerned, stood up; his turgid length slapped her in the face once more. "If you're going to talk like that, Senator, you're going to have to back it up."

Padme nearly sobbed. "Please, Master, take me like I deserve! Ruin my cunt, make me yours, kriffing resize me with that huge fucking monster..."

He dragged her up by the hair, threw her over the couch. With a wave of his hand, her panties tore away; that fat fucking cockhead pressed against the taut flesh of her ass. "Like you deserve?"

"I'm just a whore, I'm such a-"

He pushed into her dripping cunt. The galaxy stopped. Her mouth opened, worked soundlessly, shut again; her eyes widened, rolling back as her mind shattered. Obi-Wan kept going deeper and deeper, slowly, inexorably, and all she could do was cum, over and over again, clenching down over the fist-sized tip of the Jedi's cock.

It just didn't end. He just kept sliding in. Always more cock. For a second, Padme wondered what the Jedi Master would tell CSF after she died of pleasure.

Finally, that fat cockhead nudged her cervix, sending a twinge of pain through the Senator, pushing her out of her meat-induced reverie. Shuddering, she hauled in a ragged breath, conscious of the fact that there were tears running down her cheeks. It was like she'd transcended reality, become something more- she could think now, but still the fabric of reality was shot through with incredible ecstasy. It felt like she was living inside an orgasm.

"Sweet kriffing Force." she let out, head dropping down, eyes closing. "Obi-Wan, you're rearranging my guts..."

The Jedi Master laughed. His hands seized her hips; he withdrew slightly from her clutching sex, adjusting the angle. "Not yet."

Padme knew what was coming. She braced mentally and physically for it. It didn't help.

Obi-Wan drove forwards with more power than a Star Destroyer's hyperdrive. He slammed so deep into her that the breath left her body in a hard whuff, and she came yet again.

"You're... fucking..." she groaned. Couldn't even make a coherent sentence, impaled as she was upon the Jedi Master's throbbing manhood. Padme's words melted into an exquisite moan, nails tearing into the soft fabric of the couch; her pussy made an obscene squelching noise, and she felt fluid cascade down between her legs.

"Yes, I am." There was an edge on Obi-Wan's voice now, an animalistic undertone to the clipped, aristocratic Coruscanti accent. Something was poking through the veneer of civilization.

She loved it.

He seized the Senator's hair again, yanking her head back as he pounded into her; she shrieked at the top of her lungs, grip tightening on the couch until her fingers hurt, and then she slumped over, barely conscious. He'd ruined her. That was the only thing in her mind, just that thought, over and over and over and over again. He'd fucking ruined her, resized her poor little cunt, and it had barely even been five minutes. Or maybe it had been hours. She couldn't tell anymore. Time didn't matter. Only the enormous durasteel-hard cock stretching her out mattered.

Padme lay there, draped over the couch, body jerking with each of the Master's thrusts. She couldn't move on her own anymore, and he didn't care. It was like she was just his fucktoy. A piece of meat for his pleasure. And she'd have it no other way.

After what felt like eons of this constant ecstasy, the Senator's reverie was interrupted by a high-pitched buzzing sound, penetrating into her cock-addled mind. Something clanked, and it stopped; heavy-lidded eyes fluttered half-open to see a speeder docked on the veranda. It was her beloved husband's vehicle- he was home.

Obi-Wan didn't stop, pulling his incredible cock nearly all the way out, and then stroking back in, giving her more length with each thrust than most human men could even dream of having. He was focused, as always. Padme loved him for it.

She saw Anakin pull himself out of the speeder, a small flimsiplast-wrapped package in his hands, a broad smile on his face. He was so beautiful, long hair fluttering in the light breeze, those eyes just for her. So perfect.

Padme tried to say something, but no words came out. She settled for a little wave, from as far up as she could manage to move her arm.

"Padme! Master?" The smile remained on his face, though an eyebrow raised in confusion. "I see you two are getting along..."

Obi-Wan, bless his soul, did not even pause or break rhythm. "She wanted to show me some... what was it? Gungan giggle-leaf?"

Understanding bloomed upon Anakin's face. "I take it you liked it, then." He set down the package on the table, shedding his outer robe. Padme couldn't help but notice the bulge in his trousers. "I think I might try some, as well."

He walked past them; Padme heard rustling, and then the click of an igniter. A second later, her husband reappeared, now stripped to the waist. "This is good stuff, isn't it?"

His cock came out, already semi-hard, slapping against the Senator's face. She tried vainly to get it in her mouth, tongue catching tantalizing tastes of his pulsing rod. Without looking down, Anakin put his hand under her chin and lifted her to the right angle, sliding his fat meat into her welcoming throat. "Better than all that on Cato Neimoidia, at least..."