Nothing can really adequately follow last week’s lesbiapocalyptic saga of the casts of Buffy and Desperate Housewives fighting and/or being fucked by Daleks. This simpler tale, by author merenwenkb, is a small, slice-of-life tale, of two Jedi stuck in traffic.
Obi-Wan bit back a sigh as he drew the speeder to a halt, a winding
trail of stationary vehicles in front of him. He could really have done
without an additional wait at that moment. To his left Qui-Gon shifted
in his seat to peer out of the viewport before settling back down with
a shake of his head.
“Backed up on all levels. We’ll be here for a while I think.”
Obi groaned softly, switched the engine to minimum and sat back in his
seat. Even then he couldn’t be entirely comfortable, but that wasn’t
going to change so he might as well make the most of what they had. He
knew he should have used the ‘fresher at the spaceport, but it was too
late to change the past and so he must put up with the uncomfortably
full bladder his decision had caused.
Hit the jump before you burst.
Obi shifted in his seat, his discomfort becoming too strong to completely ignore. Qui-Gon frowned.
“Are you alright?” He asked, concerned. His Padawan normally had no
trouble staying still so for him to shift about so much was strange.
“I’m fine.” Despite the words Qui could see that his face was tighter than normal and he looked tense, as if fighting something.
“No you’re not. You’ve closed the bond and you’re trying to hide something from me. What is it?”
Obi reddened slightly in embarrassment that his attempts to hide had
been seen through so easily. “It’s nothing, really. Nothing you can
help with anyway. I’ll be fine.”
Even as he said it he doubted he would be. The traffic hadn’t moved
once in the 10 minutes or so they’d been sat there and from the way the
traffic lanes were blocked up it was likely they’d be there for a lot
longer, and his bladder was already protesting that it needed emptying
soon. Very soon in fact.
Obi sighed, then gave in and released the mental grip he had on the
training bond. He could feel his masters awareness drift down it and
resigned himself to a lecture on self control and planning ahead.
When he felt the bond reopen Qui sent out a mental probe to find out
why his Padawan was so edgy. Finding only discomfort in his upper level
emotions he delved deeper to find the cause. He was surprised at what
he found. His own bladder began to ache in sympathy as he encountered
the desperation the younger man was experiencing, and he pulled back
into his own mind with more of an idea about why his Padawan was
embarrassed. Bodily functions were not something they tended to speak
of unless they absolutely had to, and it had been obvious in Obi-Wan’s
mind that he expected to be lectured on a lack of self control or
something similar for allowing himself to reach this state.
“Why are you so embarrassed about it?” He asked gently. “You could
hardly have known that we would get caught in traffic, and under normal
situations we’d have been home about 10 minutes ago or more.”
As always, Qui-Gon is full of compassio and understanding. Possibly too much understanding.
He paused again in concern as his Padawan doubled over with a moan,
both hands pressed against his crotch. It was obvious that making it
back to their apartment was going to be impossible, and Qui-Gon
couldn’t completely suppress the stir of arousal he felt at the thought
of the young man beside him loosing control. He shifted to cover it and
then went on.
Way, waaaaay too understanding. This is the point where someone says “I have a bad feeling about this.”
He finally found what he’d been looking for, a bag of spare clothing
they’d just brought back from their mission. … Qui stepped forward and offered him the tunics.
“I know it’s not much but if you pee into them we can stick them in one
of the containers and wash them out when we get home.” He offered a
solution quietly, and was surprised at the slight shake of his
“If I let go I’m done. I can’t hold it for much longer…” He whimpered.
Qui-Gon hesitated, then stepped forwards and crouched at the side of the pilot seat. “Do you trust me?” He asked quietly.
It was enough. He quickly folded the tunics so that they formed a pad
of material in one hand. With the other he moved in and started to undo
the fastening on Obi’s pants, working around the hand that was firmly
ensconced there. When it was undone he carefully positioned the pad on
the younger man’s lap and then started to pry the hand away.
“Master, no! You can’t, I’ll pee on you!”
When I finally create the Fan Fiction Hall of Fame, this line will be among the inductees.
Obi almost screamed at the loss of pressure as his hand was removed,
and could immediately feel his muscles start to give way, pee surging
down his cock and squirting onto his master’s hand as it held the
tunics in place. Mortified, he tried to stop the flow, but his bladder
couldn’t fight the tide of liquid and to his shame he started to pee
faster, golden liquid flowing over Qui’s skin before soaking into the
He groaned in relief as on his desperation lessened, his hips arching
up slightly in pleasure, eyes closing of their own accord. It felt too
good to let go to be embarrassed about the circumstances. He could feel
the material on his lap getting heavier and warm, but his legs weren’t
wet so it was doing some good. His flow seemed never ending, and he
wasn’t sure he wanted it to end. The relief was almost as good as an
orgasm, and as he thought that he realised arousal would be next the
list once his bladder was empty.
Slowly his stream tapered off until it was just a thin trickle and then
stopped. Obi opened his eyes, surprised to realise that his master
hadn’t moved away, hadn’t moved his hand out of the way. He was also
embarrassed to realise he was starting to become hard, the euphoric
sensation of being able to let go stimulating another urge, and he
blushed, shifting away from the man crouched at his side.
Qui came to his senses with a start. He’d been startled when Obi had
started to pee over his hand, but hadn’t had the will power to move
away, mesmerised by the golden river that flowed down his fingers. How
long had he dreamed about a situation like this one?
Has anyone wondered why Obi-Wan didn’t just piss off the side of the speeder? Yeah, me too. But then, that would leave Qui-Gon high and dry, so to speak:
He snatched his hand back and started to gather up the material, making
sure to hide the totally inappropriate erection currently contained in
his leggings. He deliberately ignored his Padawan’s rising member too,
knowing it was an after effect of being desperate and then being able
to let go. Instead he carefully gathered the pad up and made to stand.
Obi realised he was still on display and reached down to tuck himself
back into his pants, but the first brush of his hand made him gasp
involuntarily and his hips twitch upwards.
“Qui?” he asked hesitantly. The use of his name made the man turn around.
“Obi? What’s wrong?” He looked concerned, but as Obi looked closer it
became apparent that the front of his leggings was tented, and Obi’s
“You enjoyed that didn’t you.” His words held no accusation, just a
statement of fact. Despite that Qui-Gon drew back slightly, refusing to
meet his Padawan’s eyes.
Obi sighed and rose from the chair. “Qui, it’s alright, I don’t mind.”
His hand grasped the other man’s shoulder and squeezed. He gently took
the sopping mass from his hands and set it on a nearby table before
drawing the man closer. One hand wandered downwards to caress the bulge
hidden by the master’s long tunic and drew a strangled groan from said
master in response. “You’ve already seen that I enjoyed it, part of it
anyway, so why are you ashamed to react in the same way?”
Qui pulled back. “Because you are my Padawan and I shouldn’t be thinking of you in that way!”
“Why not? I’m of age. I certainly don’t mind.” He raised an eyebrow at
his master. “And you obviously have been thinking of me in that way or
you wouldn’t have said shouldn’t instead of don’t.” He stepped closer
once more. “Just let me help you with this. One time. I won’t mention
it again, promise. Let me do something for you for once.” His hand
squeezed again and worked its way under the waistband of the confining
leggings while the other one worked at the fastenings to make it more
comfortable. He gently pushed Qui backwards until they hit the edge of
the opposite seat and fell into it, Obi straddling the older man’s legs.
Qui’s head fell back with a thump. He couldn’t be expected to deal with
this. This had been a part of his dreams for so long that although he
knew he should push the younger man away he couldn’t, instead working
his hand down to stroke the erection pressing into his hip.
Obi groaned, he’d been close before and the feel of his master’s hand
was driving him towards the edge extremely quickly. He sped up his
strokes and soon felt Qui thrusting up into his hand, breathing coming
more harshly. In no time at all it seemed they were both coming,
clinging to each other with their free hands. Obi rested his head
against the older man’s shoulder and tried to slow down his breathing.
You know, I really think I have considered peeing on each other to be part of the Dark Side. Maybe I’m a fuddy-duddy, but I would just think that the good side of the Force would disapprove of such things.
Finally he looked up to find Qui-Gon studying him carefully.
“Was that so bad?” He asked the older man with a grin.
Yes! Yes it was.
Qui shook his head and smiled faintly in return. “No. Inappropriate but enjoyable.”
Obi laughed. “Which was the inappropriate part, jerking each other off or me pissing on you?”
Qui-Gon blushed. “Both. But both were nice.”
Obi settled back onto his Masters lap with a contented sigh. “How long
have you liked that kind of thing then? The peeing I mean.”
Qui was silent for a moment. “As long as I can remember I suppose. To
some extent anyway. Always putting off going to the bathroom as a kid,
masturbating with a full bladder as a teenager and then doing anything
to stop anyone else finding out as an adult.”
“And how long have you wanted me in that situation?” Obi asked observantly.
The blush on Qui’s face deepened. “I’m not sure I should say.”
Obi laughed. “More than 2 years then?”
“And does this fantasy have any other parts to it?”
“Let’s just say if we’re stuck here much longer I might end up in a
similar situation to you and things could go from there.” His voice was
nervous, unsure of how his Padawan would react to this new information.
In contrast to the older man’s fears the young man snuggled closer. “Let’s just hope we’re here for a while then.”
Yes, after giving each other handjobs, the pee-soaked Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan snuggled together, content wallowing in their bodily fluids. I had to shorten this a but, so feel free to read the whole thing here if you hate yourself and your happiness. Oh, and the best part — the author included this warning at the beginning of the tale:
First time I’ve written a completed watersports story, so sorry if it’s awful.
Kid, I don’t think you understand. No matter how much additional experience you gain writing watersports fan fiction, they’re always going to be awful.