Flight Maneuvers

Title: Flight Maneuvers 4/5
Author: Ginny Powell
Rating: NC-17
Setting: Pre-TPM. Obi is young but over the age of consent.
Archive: Sure, just tell me.
Feedback: Of course! wmginnypowell@yahoo.com
Also available at my website:
http://www.geocities.com/wmginnypowell/swtpm.html
Disclaimer: George only wishes he could film stuff like this (I’m sure
he puts Natalie in this stuff in his head all the time).

Summary: O/f smut. Enjoy.

There is no emotion; there is peace.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no passion; there is serenity.
There is no death; there is the Force


Part 4

“Asteroid to port,” Obi declared, as calmly as possible.

M’larie couldn’t see it behind her, but had no reason to doubt his
assessment. Twisting around, her hand went for the auto-pilot
controls, to switch them off and go to manual.

“No!” Obi exclaimed, snatching at her wrist. “No time!” The computer
would already be calculating evasive action, though he could see that
it was pointless, and switching to manual would take valuable seconds
while the computer was busy. “We’ll have to shoot it.”

“So shoot it!” M’larie demanded impatiently. His hand was already
hovering over the firing grid.

“I can’t reach targeting!” Obi explained, glancing around her.

There was a long moment in which they both realized that it would take
too long for her to climb out of his lap, and that if he merely lifted
her as he stood, he’d only have one arm when he needed two. It was
M’larie who came up with the solution. Obi afterward was never quite
sure exactly how she did it, but somehow she lifted one leg over his
head, between them, and down to the floor, while rotating around their
joined bodies. The result was that she now stood before him, her back
to him, leaning over the control panel, her hands on the targeting
system. Obi didn’t wait to figure out how she’d done it, but wasted no
time in releasing the safety catch on the firing mechanism. As soon as
he heard M’larie say “Acquiring target lock. Got it. Fire!” he fired.

Balls of golden light erupted in pairs from both forward guns, heading
unerringly at the fast-approaching target. Then prey and predator met
in a silent explosion that momentarily blinded the anxiously watching
Jedi. When they peered back around their raised forearms, all that was
left of the threatening space rock was a shower of pebbles that
pattered the outside of the ship with a sound like falling rain.

“Anything else on scanners?” Obi asked, all business, before the debris
cloud had even passed.

“Negative,” M’larie announced a moment later. “It’s all clear again.”

“Hmmm?” was the only response she got from Obi, who had become suddenly
aware of the proximity of the smooth curve of her ass when she moved to
check the scanners. He put out a hand and began to stroke it slowly up
her thigh.

“Sorry about that,” M’larie continued, looking back over her shoulder.
“I should have checked long-range scanners more thoroughly.”

“Oh, no harm done,” Obi replied a bit huskily. “I thought we worked
rather well together, actually.”

“We were working very well together.”

“Then perhaps we should work together some more.”

“Definitely.”

Obi’s hand had finished its journey upward and now cupped one pink
cheek. As he rose from his seat, he brought his other hand to the
other cheek and eased them gently apart before burying his reawakened
erection in M’larie’s moist depths.

She moaned softly, her head dropping forward as her hands searched for
purchase on the control panel before her. Finally she found two places
devoid of buttons or switches and was able to push back against the
thrusts that came more and more forcefully.

Obi let his eyes close, reveling in the sound of flesh slapping against
flesh, in the feel of warm skin under his hands. He let those hands
wander over M’larie’s back, around her waist, and to her belly. He had
to lean forward a little to catch at the breasts which swung forward
and back with his movements. Leaving one hand holding a nipple firmly
in its fingertips, he let the other travel back down her abdomen to the
juncture of her thighs. Finding the hard nub of her clitoris within
the slick folds, he pressed it gently, was rewarded by a new wave of
moans and hip twitches. He moved his finger, and she jerked even more
violently. Observing that this was somewhat like playing a musical
instrument, he began to catalogue for future reference which reaction
went with which finger motion, until at some point her movements became
so strong that he could no longer stand.

Sinking back into the co-pilot’s chair, Obi continued his experimental
finger positioning until, after a final surge in which she called his
name, arched her back, and dug her fingernails into his arms, M’larie
collapsed back against him, breathing heavily.

It wasn’t until minutes later, after her breathing had calmed, that
M’larie realized Obi was still hard inside her, having been
concentrating on her pleasure over his own. She made an attempt to
circle her pelvis and provide him some relief, but found herself just
too tender.

“It’s okay,” Obi whispered against her hair, realizing her predicament.
“I can wait.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” M’larie whispered back. She moved again,
this time letting him slip slowly out. Then she was sliding onto the
floor and turning toward him to take him inside her again, this time in
her mouth.

The sensation was similar and yet different. It was warm and wet and
yielding. And there was also the slight suction, the feel of her
tongue tracing the cord on the underside of his shaft, the ridge around
the head. If only she could take all of him. But no one had ever been
able to.

Not for the first time that day, M’larie surprised him. With one long
stroke, she took him deep, deep into her throat, until the curly hairs
at the base of his shaft tickled her nose. Obi-Wan moaned deeply,
nearly overcome by the feel as well as the idea of it, and gripped the
arms of his chair to keep from shoving her face even harder into his
groin. It took only a few strokes like that, and he was coming, the
contractions as M’larie swallowed around his cock only adding to
se
sensations that seemed to course down his spine all the way to his
toes.

When he was done, M’larie let his softening member slip from between
her lips and slithered up into her chair with a very smug smile on her
face. Obi smiled tiredly back. Once again, he felt he ought to say
something, but if his brain had been fuzzy before, it was completely
absent now. All he could do was follow her lead as she began to pull
on her clothes in silence. When they were both presentable, M’larie
switched the controls to manual.

“We’d better give that flight log something to report,” she declared,
and then put the ship into a spin.