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Star Wars: Honey Trap (TheCorsair and Lady Vi)

The droid turned to his mistress for her to confirm the order and Naadia nodded reluctantly. The station was an uncomfortable prospect, but it wasn't like they were spoiled for choice, were they? A grungy spacedock for a few days was certainly preferable to dying in the wide dark.

"Notify me when we are within hailing range. We'll need to make a good impression." She followed Quentin down the steps and through the hall. The patches on her feet muffled her steps oddly and made her feel stealthy, like a thief on her own ship. It didn't hurt the notion that they were discussing disguises and cover stories. It was a fun little bit of play-acting to imagine herself as a wily criminal and not just an occasional smuggler Of course, some things were so ridiculous that they ruined the fantasy.

"I don't suppose you have any weapons on board? I know several unarmed fighting styles, but I should probably go armed. Hell, we should probably both go armed, just so we don't look like targets." Quentin stroked his lightsaber thoughtfully, not noticing that she was smothering a laugh. "Something other than this, clearly."

"Weapons? Dark stars, no. Why would I?" She laughed incredulously. "Only an absolute idiot would try to assault me in the middle of... Oh... Well, perhaps I should look into purchasing something. For now, no. The closest I can offer is an Alderaanian riders' whip or a Raaltiiri crop. There may be a vibroknife stashed somewhere, but I can't be certain. It's been years since a client requested anything so violent."
 
"Interesting," Quentin observed, entering the guest chamber and opening the wardrobe. "I'd have thought that your profession would have a large quantity of cash on hand, making you a target." He glanced over his shoulder. "Or is that my ignorance speaking?"

The first thing he found was a formal coat, the sort of thing a nobleman or a Senator might wear to a fancy party. "I think not," Quentin said, putting it back. The second outfit was a stripped-down Republican Navy uniform, clearly intended for someone who fancied himself a rough and tumble ex-military type in his fantasies. The third was the desert robes that had recently come into fashion for Jedi Masters, as a way of proving their rejection of worldly matters.

The last made him give Naadia a look that communicated the phrase 'really?' with unspoken eloquence.

Turning back to the wardrobe, he searched harder. Finally, he pulled several pieces out. The white shirt and black trousers from the stripped-down uniform would work, he decided. As would the jacket he'd located - a grey, collarless thing that buttoned down the front and hung down to just below his hips. "I think I'm set," he announced, shrugging out of his uniform jacket and tossing it on the bed, before stripping off his undershirt.

Shirtless, his build was the kind that came from long hours of cross-training. He was wiry, more than "ripped", with the long lean muscles of a swimmer or a dancer rolling beneath lightly tanned skin that seemed to glow with health. One long, thin scar marked his back, and a few more thin white scars decorated his left bicep and forearm. Unexpectedly, he bore a crimson and black tattoo on his right bicep.
 
"I'd have thought that your profession would have a large quantity of cash on hand, making you a target." He glanced over his shoulder. "Or is that my ignorance speaking?"

"Mm, that's true of the... Less discriminating girls, but my clients pay mainly through direct transfers or a private agent. Cash is a bit rude, actually. It's the way you would pay an unlicensed street-corner whore, not a valued entertainer." She laughed lightly, but the pride was clear in her voice. "And anyway, the neighborhoods I frequent are very high security areas. Robbing me would be a high risk, low gain, endeavor and I try to make that fact clear."

Quentin's questioning glances drew only a shrug from the lovely prostitute. She crawled onto his bed and stretched out on her belly to watch him go through the wardrobe. His choices were interesting, but would probably work this far out on the rim. Not many beings on the station would have much of a mind for fashion, she suspected. As the jedi began to disrobe, Naadia watched with open fascination. She noted the way his body moved, the muscled corded and firm. Far different than the older men she often saw.

"Why dress now? We have hours before the station is close." She didn't say it, but her voice was heavy with invitation. Naadia's short dressing robe had ridden up and exposed the curve of her buttocks as she kicked idly at the air. When she rested on her elbows, her cleavage practically screamed for attention. Every motion of her pose seemed designed to distract.
 
Quentin considered her question, and shrugged. "I'd had some vague notion of making sure everything fits." Returning the costume pieces he'd picked out to a hanger, he put them back in the closet. "I suppose there's no hurry, though."

He looked at Naadia, posed on the bed like a dream of desire, and he felt his pulce accellerate and his manhood grow hard and heavy. Nervous tension clawed at his gut. Not long ago, it had felt easy to pull her into his arms. No, not easy. Right. They'd just been two people, talking and laughing and becoming mutually attracted.

And now, artfully displayed, she seemed more an unapproachable goddess than woman.

Irritated with himself, Quentin flung himself down on the bed next to her. As he started to say something, the bed interpreted the way he'd dropped down as a need for softer support. Caught off guard as his behind sank, he flopped backwards with a squawk and an impact. Laughing, he lifted a hand. "Dignity and grace! Surely the Jedi are well representedcwith me?"

Looking right, he lowered his hand and ran it gently down her upraised leg. "You have beautiful legs," he remarked, slowly caressing the back of her thigh. "Gymnastics? Martial arts?"
 
Naadia laughed at his bumbling attempts to move closer to her. He seemed more than capable, however, so she let him struggle over the mattress on his own. When he touched her leg, Naadia had the distinct impression that he was admiring an object. His anxiety was palpable and she was mildly irritated by it. How much more coaxing would he need?

"Dance, mostly. Though I suppose gymnastics would also be true." Rolling onto her side to better see him, she eyed him openly letting her gaze drift over the lines of his body. Green eyes eventually settled on his arm and the out of place marking. "I've never seen a tattooed jedi. It's not a common practice in your order, is it?"

Her hand drifted to stroke gently along the image, tracing the edges with deliberate slowness. He was far too jittery for the direct approach now, their close calls had put him on edge. Adding that to the guilt that his silly little group would no doubt shove at him... well, Naadia would have to be gentle with this one.

"Roll over." She sat up and motioned for him to lay on his stomach. "You are tense enough to snap."
 
Naadia's fingers drifted gently over the outlines of his tattoo as she asked about the image, and Quentin nearly purred at the touch. "Not a common practice at all," he agreed, eyes half-closed. "Master Valis did the work himself, the day I passed the Trials."

Hesitantly, he rested his hand on hers. "Master Valis is a Xoltl, and his culture uses tattoos to commemorate important life events. And so, he insisted that his first apprentice would receive a tattoo." He shivered a little, remembering. "The old fashioned way, of course. Bone needles and pigments."

His reaction was absurd, wasn't it? Both of them were adults, and not that long ago he'd even been kissing her with intent to go significantly further. So why was he...?

Ah.

Because he was thinking now. Remembering lessons repeated over and over again from a young age. "A Jedi does not love." "A Jedi understands control." "A Jedi does not give in to passions." "A Jedi is open to the promptings of the Force." But... had he felt that what he'd wanted to do was...

"Roll over." She sat up and motioned for him to lay on his stomach.

"Hmmm?" he asked, looking up at her.

"You are tense enough to snap."

Grinning wryly, he blew out a breath. "That's... true. Yes." He rolled over, feeling the mattress conform to his body once more. "I'm not usually this... this indecisive," he said, talking himself through his feelings as much as anything else. "But... I know what I want. Or, what I think I want. And I know what I should do. Or, at least, what I think I should do." A sigh. "And they are diametrically opposed to one another."
 
"And why must they be so different?" She asked as she positioned herself over him, kneeling so that she straddled his lower thighs. Her hands rested at the base of his spine, just at the curve of his buttocks, and began tracing a spiral pattern. The courtesan was more than passingly familiar with human anatomy, it seemed. Her fingers applied steady pressure as they moved, except when they passed over his kidneys. Naadia's motions were practiced and precise as she slowly moved up his spine. "You said yourself that the order allows hobbies. Perhaps it's time for you to pick up a new interest."

Her hands continued their path, forcing her to lean forward at a deepening angle. By the time she reached his shoulders, the small woman was practically laying on top of him. This would not do, so she shimmied forward until she was over his waist.

"Really, it's a matter of burning time." She was warm against the small of his back, no fabric between them at all. The position was probably too much, but it wasn't like he had far to run if she were to scare him off. Her fingers reached the base of his skull and fanned out through his hair, massaging even his scalp. "There is nothing more for a jedi to do right now, but a man... Well, a man could busy himself for hours."
 
"A new hobby?" he murmured, sighing as her fingers massaged the muscles along his spine. "That would imply that I've got an old one. Padawan are kept awfully busy."

The pressure of her body against his was delightful. When she shifted, he made a small sound of disappointment - right until her thighs gripped his waist and she began massaging his scalp. "Burning time?" She was distractingly warm and invitingly soft agsinst him. "That sounds like a terrible waste. Wkuldn't you rather live it?"

Her response indicated that yes, she would rather live it. Smiling, he reached up and back, catching her slim wrist in his callused grip. A sudden pull, firm but not hsrd, lulled her against his back. Then, with a second quick pull and a twist of the hips, she was on the mattress next to him.

"I don't have a lot of practice at this," he said, leanibg up on one arm and admiring her, "but we can try for hours..." Leaning forward he kissed her, tongue gently teasing her lips. As he did his hand slid into the gap of her robe and up the skin over her ribs, palm just brushing the swelling curve of her breast.
 
"Mmm, don't they teach you jedi about training?" She returned the kiss with slow, sensual deliberation. Back arching, she pressed her breast into his hand. Her nipple was invitingly hard against his skin. "If you want to be skilled in any endeavor, you must practice."

She smiled wickedly and started stroking the bulge of his trousers. So ready! His eagerness was intoxicating, but she cautioned herself to keep her own excitement reined in. He was primed to explode at any moment, and the innocent ones always had short fuses to begin with.

"Darling jedi, by the time we arrive at the station, you will be an expert."
 
"Practice, hmm?" he smiled back, gasping a little as Naadia's breast filled his palm and her hand found his already-aching erection. "I have heard that practice makes perfect..." He shifted his hand a little, cupping her breast and allowing him to stroke the hardening nipple with his thumb. The way her breath caught, just for a moment, told him that he must be doing that part right.

"Darling jedi," she whispered, smiling wickedly, "by the time we arrive at the station, you will be an expert."

"Will I now?" he answered, his own voice a husky whisper. He rolled the hardened nipple between finger and thumb, watching her expression. "Of course, in order to be an expert, I'll need more than just practice." He bent his head, lips planting light kisses along her throat. "I'll need feedback as well. For instance..." He bit her, gently, just above her collarbone. "How was that?"
 
Naadia jumped a little at his touch, the sharp intake of her breath ruffling his hair. About time the man found a backbone! Her skin tingled with every brushing kiss and his teeth were absolutely electric. How long had it been since desire was the driving force behind an 'encounter'?

"Very nice, highest marks." She teased softly. "Try a little higher. Or lower."

She shifted under him and let her robe fall open the rest of the way, leaving the flat expanse of her stomach bare. Of course, she was bared a bit lower as well. His erection pulsed in her hand, temptation nearly getting the better of her. She ran a fingernail over where she felt the underside of his shaft must be. It would be easy enough to take him just a bit too far and hear those delightful moans... No... Patience. Naadia sat up and met his lips with her own, pushing him until he lay on his back. Her hand left his cock and began unfastening his pants. The cool air of the room might slow him down a bit, but even if it didn't... Well, they had hours.

Something across the room chirped, the tone unfamiliar to Naadia. It seemed to be coming from the nightstand where he put his...

"Oh no, not this time." She climbed astride him and pressed her hand to his chest. "No more interruptions."
 
Quentin lifted his hips a little as Naadia went to work on his trousers. Soon enough they were on the floor, next to the boots she'd pulled off him as well. He lay back, enjoying the feel of the cool air on heated skin, his engorged cock erect and twitching gently in time with his pulse. "Should Ibe the only one naked?" he asked.

Technically, of course, she was still clothed. Not that her sheer silk robe had hidden her body particularly well, of course. But she'd unknotted the belt and allowed it to gape open, framing the valley between her breasts and the smooth flesh of her stomach and the midnight patch of dark curls berween her thighs. He started to sit up, reaching for her, when something started chirping. "Now what?" he groaned aloud as he realized the sound was coming from his own swordbelt. "I didn't think I had a coms unit with that kind of range..."

Of course, it was HoloNet compatible. He started to reach for it, only to have Naadia shove him back into the mattress. "Oh no, not this time," she growled, straddling him. "No more interruptions."

Quentin gasped at the silky feel of her thighs on his bare hips, and at the slick wet heat of her lips against his shaft. Smiling hungrily, he cupped her breast with one hand and trailed the fingers of the other down her abdomen. "No," he agreed, lips tugging gently at her taut nipple. "No more interruptions."

His fingers stroked through her hair and spread her lips just a little. Hesitantly, he felt for the nub of her clitoris with the pad of one fingertip. "After all... we've got hours..."
 
Naadia cooed and stroked his hair. He was still hesitating, but that would fade in time. The chirping of his commlink was annoying, but it stopped eventually. She stripped away her robe (not that it made much of a difference) and dropped it to puddle on the floor beside his boots. The heat coming off of him was tremendous and his cock seemed to tap against her in time to his rapid pulse. Deprivation was an ugly thing. No matter how careful she was, he would likely be quick. There were certain spice variants that could... 'Assist' his recovery, but she doubted that he'd be willing to dive into the illegal so quickly.

She rolled her hips against him, pressing herself against his tentative fingers and stroking along his twitchy member. His comm started to chirp and beep again, annoying little thing would go out the airlock soon.

"Tell me, do Jedi fantasize?" She asked breathlessly as she reached for him. Her hand trailed teasingly over his shaft. "What thoughts zip through your head when you have your hand on your cock. What do you most want me to do?"
 
"Do we fantasize?" Quentin gasped out, feeling her fingers cool and teasing on his shaft. "Well, I can't speak for all Jedi..." He moaned, just a little. "But... I for one... always just imagined... well, sex."

Sitting up just a little, he traded his fingers for his mouth on her nipple. His tongue circled the areola, and then he tugged gently at the nipple with his lips. "Not having... a lot of experience," he murmured, breath blowing across the damp nipple, "I... just imagined... sliding... into a... woman..."

He fell backwards onto the mattress, running his hands over her as he did. They explored her back, then drifted downwards to cup and squeeze the firm globes of her rear. "So... other than fucking me... I don't know..."
 
Naadia laughed softly and leaned forward. Her lips found his throat and jaw, kissing over them while giving his hands a bit more of her ass to hold on to. With one hand she guided his cock to her opening and brought just the very tip inside her, wet and very warm. She bobbed her hips with expert precision so that he never entered farther than the head of his shaft. Perhaps it was a little cruel to tease him so, but she relished the jedi's reactions. But no matter how wonderful his plaintive gasps were, she was soon tired of the game. Teasing him alone was fun, but she teased herself as well. Naadia brought herself down on him, her walls holding him tightly. Under his hands her muscles flexed as she wriggled over him, rocking and squeezing with him safely held inside.

The prostitute moaned against his neck as he pressed against deep places inside her. She rolled her hips slowly, contracting around him to pull even more tightly.

"Was this what you imagined, Quentin?" Breathless, she nibbled on his ear while continuing to move against him like crashing waves. She reached up to cradle his head between her forearms, breasts pressed against his chest. "Or should I move faster?"

His comm was still beeping, but it was becoming easier to drown out the noise. Between his breathing, her rushing heartbeat, and the steady sound of the mattress compressing, Naadia barely noticed the sound at all.
 
"Not.... not what I imagined," Quentin managed, eyes wide at the sensation of Naadia's channel squeezing around him as she rolled up and down in a gentle rhythm. He wasn't a virgin, not thanks to a couple of hurried moments with a fellow Padawan while their Masters had consulted with the Council. But both of them had been at the time and, although they'd enjoyed themselves, it had been nothing like this. Naadia was wet and warm and soft around him, but her walls squeezed and released as if she held him in her hand. And the deliberate way she stroked up and down, up and down, left him groaning with the effort of not climaxing right now. And he didn't want to do that.

Well, all right. He did. Really, really badly. But... he really wanted to hold out.

So he calmed his breathing a little, and smiled at her question. "It's far better," he smiled, tangling his fingers in her hair as he raised his head to kiss her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, thrusting and probing as he tried rocking his hips to thrust upwards as she slid down his shaft. "And faster," he whispered, letting his fingertips drift down the smooth skin of her bare back. He shuddered in pleasure, back and hips arching against her body. "I... don't know... how long..." A gasp, followed by a low moan. "How long... I'll last."

He gripped her hips again. Not trying to set the pace. Just enjoying the feel of her thighs and rear flexing beneath his hands as she rode him. "But... I want... AH! I want... to see... you come... first oohhhhhhhhh..." He was lost for a moment, feeling his shaft pulse and throb and thinking for a moment that he'd orgasmed. "If... if I can... last...."
 
Naadia stopped her movements, giving him a moment to catch his breath. She licked and bit his throat, tasting the salt of his sweat and felling the thrum of his pulse against her tongue. His request was a difficult one. She didn't need half of her experience to know that he was close to bursting as it was. He twitched and pulsed inside her, hard as steel and large enough to fill every bit of her. With more time, she could easily get off for him. Hell, it wouldn't even take much time, if he could just hold out...

"Ambitious, my jedi." She sat up over him and guided one of his hands to the place where they joined. His fingers rested against her clit and she started to move against him again. She was very gentle and very careful, but it was a dangerous balance. For a moment she wished that they were still under the influence of the honey. Not only would the euphoria make it that much easier for her to come, but his enhanced empathy might let him connect more to her sensations... Hmm, interesting thought for the next time.

She brought herself down on him with a little more force than she intended, gasping as he bumped against her cervix and his fingers pressed against her clit. Involuntarily, she contracted around him as her thighs quivered in the first electric shocks of heightened desire. Going slow was not going to be an option for long.

"Hold for as long as you can, darling." She moved more forcefully now, pulling and pressing him against deep places that drew soft noises from her. Naadia rested her palms flat on his chest for balance, her back arching as she bounced.
 
"Nothing wrong," Quentin gasped, "with ambition..."

He wasn't certain what she was intending, at first, when she took his hand and slid it down between their bodies. Even when he felt her open her sex to his fingers, it still puzzled him - although feeling his fingers brush against his aching cock, slick with her juices and buried deep in her body, made him gasp and neadly climax. And then he felt the hard nub of flesh under his finger, heard her gasp and felt her clench down around him as she used her own fingers to show him how to play with her.

She started moving again, slow and gentle, as if she were teasing both of them. He responded by biting nis lip and ignoring the urgent demands of his cock, focusing instead on the way her clit felt as he stroked and circled it. "You feel... good..." he groaned. Then, struck by a thought, he slipped his fingers free and slid his other hand in to replace them. Eying his glistening fingertips for a moment, he ran his tongue oner the tip. The taste was sharp and musky, and he throbbed against her walls as he savored it. "Even better... than honey..."

She seemed to lose her balance at that, coming down hard on his fingers and cock. He gasped with her, aware from tbe way she clenched around him that her reaction had been one of pleasure. Warning him to hold on, she braced against his chest and moved harder and faster in his cock. "Fuck," he groaned. "I'm close, Naadia. So close."

His hips began bucking involuntarily, meeting her body with a slapping sound as the muscles in his thighs and belly and back flexed. He massaged her clit in time with the surge of blood that made his cock throb. "How would you taste when you come?" he asked, saying whatever came into his mind to distract himself from his body's demands to orgasm. "Would you like that? My tongue, instead of my fingers? Tasting you as you come on my mouth?"
 
Naadia paused over him, unsure if she was annoyed, interested, or amused. She loved the way he moved with her, pushing deep and hard as his muscles tensed under her palms. It was nearly painful but not quite, his fingers a gentle counterpoint to the near-frantic pace she set. All-in-all, an enjoyable fuck. She was pleasantly surprised at how close they both were to the edge so soon, and now he wanted to change positions? Well, it wasn't really like she had much to complain about.

"Do you want to see for yourself?" Though more loose-limbed than usual Naadia still moved gracefully as she slid off of him. His cock thumped heavily against his stomach, wet and shining and red. She turned and presented herself to him, the heat from her was nearly visible as she carefully positioned her knees on either side of his head. Bending forward, she cradled his prick and started to gently lick along the shaft. She could taste herself on him, a familiar flavor. Naadia was careful to avoid over-stimulation as she ran her tongue and lips the length of him, tip to balls, keeping him warm and wet with her mouth.
 
Quentin made a wild-eyed face of surprise and frustration as Naadia shifted and he felt himself slipping from her body. "Wha..." he managed. "What are you doing?" But the answer wasn't long in coming, as her thighs braced on either side of his head. Her sex, parted and glistenng, filled his senses. And then he felt her tongue glide the length of his shaft and his hips bucked upwards with an involuntary cry.

Struggling for control, he forced himself to consider his next move. His arms curled around her thighs, giving him just enough resch to spread her lips with his fingertips. Then he had to close his eyes for a minute, gasping and groaning as Naadia's mouth closed around his shaft and began to suck.

Shuddering with the effort of holding off his orgasm, he brought his mouth to her wet lips. Hesitantly at first, he teased the swollen bud of her clit with the tip of his tongue. Then, he tried licking the length of her, parting her lips with his tongue before returning to her clitoris.

He moaned directly into her as his cock throbbed in her mouth. "Naadia," he groaned, voice shaking. "I... I don't... don't know... how much..." His his jerked and his body arched beneath hers. Hanging on for dear life, he returned his attentions to her pussy.
 
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