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His mind has just begun to wander from his reading, worrying about how long before she would be home and what they could do for dinner, when Padmé bursts through the door. She throws her bag down and tosses her keys on the counter with a dramatic groan. Obi-Wan barely has time to set down his book and tea before she’s stomping over and plopping herself down on his lap, kicking off her shoes and throwing her scrunchie over her shoulder on the way. Without a word she throws her arms around his neck and pulls him in. He kisses her back so sweetly she immediately slouches on him, sighing into his mouth. His hands find her hips to steady her. She shifts her weight and tries to deepen the kiss but her endlessly patient Professor Kenobi resists, delicately runs his fingers up and down her spine, making her skin tingle beneath her dress shirt. It's perfect but not enough.
"Obi-Wan," She hums. "Touch me. Please."
He looks at her curiously and gently squeezes her. "I am touching you."
"More.”
“Can I at least ask about your day first? How was your final?”
She huffs, “Fine, it was fine. It went well. Now, please take your clothes off.” She stands momentarily to hike her skirt up before straddling him and tugging at the hem of his white t-shirt.
“Always so eager,” he chuckles and lifts his arms for her to pull it over his head, used to her antics by now.
A thrill runs through her stomach. That’s a good start. Maybe this won't be as difficult as she thinks. She strokes his collarbone and stares appreciatively at the blonde-silver hair covering his chest and leading all the way down his stomach. She muses, “Eager... That's such a sweet way to put it.”
“And what's that supposed to mean?”
“You tell me, baby.”
Realization flashes through his eyes.
"I don't- we talked about this- I- it was a mistake, Padmé. I had too much wine. I don't want to talk to you that way. I don't want to treat you that way."
"Disregarding the blatant lies, I'm not made of glass, Obi-Wan," she says, gently. "I'm a big girl, I can take it, I swear." She begins unbuttoning her shirt. His fingers twitch against her thighs, inner turmoil evident in his eyes and the tortured twist of his lips. He shudders as she tucks his hair behind his ears. It's slightly damp, he must have just showered. She continues, "Besides, it's true isn't it? I am… What is it that you called me exactly? Your pretty little whore? Made just for your cock?"
He closes his eyes tight, his cheeks, ears, and chest flushing with utter mortification, regret tightening every muscle in his body. She feigns adjusting their position and strategically wiggles in his lap, resting her head on his shoulder. "Well you're right. It's all I've been thinking about since, mmmm, I don't know, noon today? I won my mock trial and all I cared about was getting home so you could split me in half and talk to me just like that again."
"That doesn't make you a whore, dear.”
"Can you please just cut the shit? You're being such a prude about this for no reason. I don't get it. You know I want someone who loves me honestly. If you can't at least give me that..."
“Then what?” He gapes at her, "You'll break up with me?"
"No, no," she shakes her head and rubs her temple. She didn't mean that, never. "I just love you and I want you to be a little mean to me. Because you like it and I like it and I would never judge you for anything and I trust you, implicitly." She leans in to place a kiss to his nose. "So do your thing. Or else I think I'm going to really embarrass us both..."
He stares at her for a beat and shakes his head. “You're ridiculous.”
“Am I?” She raises an eyebrow. He inhales sharply as she begins moving her hips back and forth on him, and throws his head back against the couch when she pulls her skirt up so he can watch. She moans, a little louder than she needs to, at the friction of her thin lace panties over the stiff fabric of his jeans, and places one of his hands on her breast, the other on her throat. He bites his lip as she reaches between them, unbuttons his pants, and pulls him out, nearly fully hard despite the front he is putting on. She doesn't even lick her hand, she's wet enough to take him all the way with no prep, panties shoved to the side. They groan in unison as she sinks down to the hilt. His hand tightens on her neck.
“Do you feel that? How badly I needed you?” she asks. He sputters as she starts slowly grinding her hips in a circle. She starts playing with one of her breasts, and guides his hand on the other to follow. “So full. You fill me up so good. I want you inside me all the time, forever.”
He pulls her bralette down and leans forward to suckle at her tit, staring up at her with tortured eyes as she starts rocking back and forth, and his sucking turns to biting, his caressing to pinching and rubbing. He takes a handful of her skirt and uses it as leverage as his hips start jerking upward, trying to meet her halfway so he can go deeper.
"There you go, baby,” she purrs. “Take what you want. Use me. Make me your little fuckdoll.”
Suddenly he lifts her off of him. She gasps at the sudden emptiness and nearly falls as he spins her around, yanks her shirt down to her elbows and twists it, so that it acts as a restraining device for him as he drags her to the wall. With one hand he unzips her skirt at the side and shoves it along with her panties down over her ass, then he reaches down between her thighs and strokes just the very outside of her slit, careful not to slip inside, like he's just checking her out, confirming what he already knows. She whines and he leans in, pushing her into the wall even harder. He tightens his grip on her shirt and sharp pain rolls through her shoulder.
He wipes his hand on her stomach and takes a fistful of her hair, tight. His voice shakes as he speaks, "All I want is to treat you like a lady. Why do you want to make me do this?"
Fuck, there it is , she thinks. She grinds her ass into him as best as her position allows.
"Jesus Christ," he mumbles. He tugs at her hair, forcing her head up and kissing her roughly. Her neck aches from the angle but she stares at the spit connecting their lips in a daze when he pulls away. "Were you always such a fucking slut? Is this how you let your last boyfriend treat you?"
His voice takes on a condescending, captious edge, familiar to but rarely used on her. He lets her arms loose and spins her around again. Her shirt falls to the ground and he boxes her in.
"What was that kid's name again? The one you were fucking when we met. Skywalker? Did you ask him to call you a whore? Did he fuck you hard enough?"
"No, no." She shakes her head. She too wonders if Obi-Wan did this with her.
"Mmm, are you sure about that, love? This seems to come pretty naturally for you." Her body proves his point not even a second later, falling to its knees at the slightest unspoken request, just a little pressure at the top of her shoulders. She chews on her bottom lip and blinks up at him before her eyes sink down to rest on his member right in front of her face.
"God," he laughs and cups her cheek. "Look at you. You're starving for it."
"So feed me then."
His eyes darken. "Suck," he commands.
So she does. She doesn't give any small kisses to his hips or head, she skips any teasing licks, doesn't bother to move her hands from where they rest in her lap, just opens her mouth wide and takes as much of him in as she can. All she can taste is herself.
She doesn't pay attention to rhythm or finesse, wouldn't be able to anyway once he starts fucking her face, gripping the back of her head to keep her still as his hips do all the work. The only things on her mind are keeping her throat relaxed and her lips pulled over her teeth, and the tingle between her thighs as they clench; the rest is fuzz.
"Ah, God, yes, that's it. Just like that, little one." She chokes hard on a particularly deep thrust and he immediately pulls out to let her catch her breath. With a look in his eyes she could only describe as hunger, he takes some of the spit dribbling down her chin and drags it up her cheek with the pad of his thumb, then circles it around her eye and makes a cross as he rubs it into her forehead. "All those brains and this is what you're best at. Gagging on my cock."
She hardly registers her own hand venturing between her legs as he slips back between her lips. She really doesn't care how she looks right now, except through Obi-Wan's eyes; her eyelashes and ruddied cheeks are wet with tears as she continues to deepthroat him. He tilts his head and glances down at her humping her palm. She gasps as he pulls her off of him again. "You're that desperate for cock? You can't go five minutes with your pussy empty?" He taps the tip against her cheek a few times and then mixes her tears with his precum and more of her saliva.
“Mm-mm,” she shakes her head in agreement. “I can't.”
“You need me to fuck you?”
“Mhmm,” she turns her head and presses a slow, wet kiss to his shaft. He grunts and slides his cock back and forth against her cheek.
“C- Can you ask nicely?” He's blushing again, suddenly.
She smiles and bats her eyes. “Obi-Wan, can I pretty please get my brains fucked out?”
He lifts his head toward the ceiling and she watches his throat as he swallows and takes a deep breath, anticipation fluttering in her chest. He looks back down at her and holds hands out, “Up.”
As soon as she's on her feet he's smothering her with his lips and lifting her up by her ass. Her legs automatically lift and wrap around him. She moans encouragingly when their hips meet. She's dying to move, to maneuver back onto him but he holds her too close.
He bumps into a few walls on the way to their room, and they definitely sweep the contents off of the table in the hallway. She doesn't hear any glass shattering in the crash, but then again it's hard to hear anything over herself.
They push through the door and finally he lets up on her enough for her to lift herself up and on to his cock. This time she nearly yells.
He shoves a hand over her mouth, “Are you trying to show all the neighbors exactly how much of slut you are? Can you shut up or do you need help?”
“Help.”
He drops her on the bed, throws his glasses to the side and kicks his pants off. “Get on your hands and knees.” She obeys and a few seconds later he’s shoving fabric in her mouth, his boxers she realizes, and slamming into her from behind. Her scream is hardly muffled. He places a head on the back of her neck, pushes her head down into the mattress and slams into her again, initiating a brisk, steady pace. “Fuck. Such a small bird but look how easily your little cunt takes me in.”
Sweat pools at her temples, the small of her back, and the backs of her knees, like she’s melting. If he were to put a finger to her clit, she would cum right now. As if he reads her mind, he does just that. It takes just a few light circles for her to let go; she cries into the saliva soaked boxers, her back arches, her toes curl, and her entire body twitches.
He stops thrusting as she pulses around him repeatedly. “God, you really fucking like this, don’t you?” He sounds genuinely surprised, like their little game has just been paused.
When he doesn’t continue, she spits out her makeshift gag and responds, “Yes? I do? I wouldn’t lie about that?”
“I suppose I felt a little odd about it because you’re so- and I'm- I never want to influence you in that way.”
“Obi-Wan, baby, that’s really sweet, and I love you,” she grits out, “but if you don’t fucking move right now, I swear to God I'm going to die.”
She is suddenly on her back, with her legs spread wide and the pleasant heaviness of him on her. He kisses her mercilessly as he slides back in and the stretch of it makes the breathing that much harder. His hips stutter when she bites down on his bottom lip. There’s spots forming in her vision by the time he finally releases her lips.
“Such a perfect little cockslut. I should go get the camera. Show everyone how filthy Padmé Amidala gets for some cock,” he murmurs into her ear. She flushes and whines and scratches at his back. “Mm, no attitude? That one scares you doesn’t it, love? I guess you have some shame after all. Hard to tell from this angle.” A loud squelch fills the room, as if to emphasize his point.
Her chest heaves as she pants, “No wonder you hardly spoke before during sex.”
“How was I supposed to know my sweet little girl is such a whore?”
“Did I not put out on the first date? I thought I did.”
He laughs and catches her lips again. Their teeth knock into each other as his thrusts get more erratic, desperate. He groans when she reaches down and starts touching herself just how she likes it, racing to catch up with him.
“You’re going to cum twice without me even using my tongue? So easy.” He grabs her chin and kisses her before pressing his thumb through her lips. “Such a pretty mouth on my girl. Pretty mouth and pretty cunt to wrap around my cock and stuff with cum.”
Her nails dig deep into his skin and she bites his thumb as she peaks. The aftershocks send him over the edge and he flips them over, folding his arms around her and holding her down on his cock as he empties his loads deep inside her. She settles her head on his pec and nuzzles into him, caressing his biceps and enjoying these last few moments of fullness. Eventually he kisses the top of her head and loosens his arms. She lifts on her knees over him and they both watch with bated breath as he slowly falls out of her onto his stomach in fat white drops.
“Fuck, Padmé. What the fuck.”
She grins, and gives him a peck on the lips. “I love you,” she chirps before standing up.
Obi-Wan hasn’t even thought of getting up by the time she’s back, holding a warm rag out to him and putting a glass of water on the side table. She opens the window, reaches into the drawer and pulls out an ashtray, a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter. She sits on the floor next to him as he finishes catching his breath and drinks his water.
“Are you ever going to stop making me feel old?”
“Hopefully not.”
He strokes her hair. “Padmé, I’m-”
“Do not apologize to me right now, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Don’t. Will it make you feel better if I do it back?” She glares at him, half-serious, and flicks his nipple, “Bastard. Pervert. Creepy old man.”
He smiles and shakes his head, rubbing the affronted nipple. “We are going to have to talk about it if you want this to happen again in any capacity, dear”
“Yeah, yeah,” She turns her attention back to her cigarette and the full moon shining through the window, picks up his hand and places it back on her head.