Rating: NC-17

Archive: Yes, but tell me

Disclaimer: Ok Uncle George, I'm sick. If you want a runny nose, some
petroleum jelly, and crumpled tissues, go ahead and frikkin sue! Oh, I
don't own that dashing Jedi knight.

Summary: You have a cold and General Kenobi knows just what to do :-D

Author's Note: The Sisters will notice a very funny inside joke. Yeah,
Lyssa and Stevie, it's for yall!

Sniffle
============================
Damn surplus reports. All you'd done for the past week was go behind your
half-assed staff and do their jobs. You'd think that the Republic could
afford to hire capable and reliable staff, but that was a joke. You're in
bed, your ratty pajamas forming new holes by the second.

Of course, while you have tons of work to do you'd get a cold..that's just
typical of your rotten luck. You'd been working like a dog all week only to
come down with the most virulent case of the sniffles you'd had since you
were a kid. Your nose was rubbed raw from the cheap, one-ply toilet paper
that your staff had ordered to save money. Cheapskates. You sneeze several
times in succession, and jump when you see someone standing in front of you.

It's the General. You try to salute, but a sneeze takes over and you bury
yourself in your pillows to keep from blowing snot on him. He smiles
good-naturedly and hands you a box of tissues. Real tissues. Not one-ply
toilet paper. Tissues with lotion and nasal comfort and...oh, you could
just kiss him. Bless the maker for this man.

"Why thank you. If I'd known that tissues were the key to getting into your
bed, I'd have brought them sooner," he says wryly, barely perching on the
edge of your full-size bed. His lips quirk into a half-smile, hidden
slightly by his shortly-cropped beard. His eyes twinkle merrily, amused by
your state of undress, and you feel like burrowing into your sheets and
never coming out. Much to your dismay, you begin another marathon round of
sneezes.

"Gods...are you alright?" The General looks at you with concern and you ask
yourself, "Why is HE here?" He'd never taken interest in you before.
Apparently having a cold dulled your shields, because he answers your
thought out loud.

"I need my surplus reports, actually. I was sent to talk to you. Also, I
need manpower estimates, troop supply lists, and sex." Your eyebrow quirks
up at the last statement and he blushes lightly. He'd apparently not meant
to say that. Oh well, the cat was out of the bag now.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" The General nods his assent and you can
barely contain your giggles.

"Obi-Wan, did you just say you needed sex? Cause I know several women on
this very ship who'd be happy to indulge you. Let's say that it would be
their donation to the Republic." You wipe your nose with another of the
General's oh-so-soft tissues, thankful that they aren't rubbing your
already-raw nose with pain.

"But I don't want to be a charity case...something one can deduct off their
taxes at the end of the season. I want to be something special to someone.
However, that's not possible for me anymore. Enough of my pathetic whining,
you get some rest, hear?" The General strokes his hand down your cheek and
you whimper when he pulls it away. Suddenly, without fear of rejection, you
decide something.

"Stay with me, General Kenobi. I can take some Alda-seltzer flu meds
and..and..well, it would be worth your while?" You end the statement in a
question, leaving the man a well-constructed loophole in case he wants out
of the situation. He doesn't speak, merely places both of his hands at each
of your temples. You feel a warm pressure, and suddenly your congestion and
sniffles are gone for the time being.

"That better?" You nod, and he plucks at your flannel pajamas. Shucking
them easily, you go to work on his tight uniform pants, thanking whoever
decided that Republic officers should wear black uniforms. The man looks
good in black. He stretches out on top of the bed, his body a study in
perfection. You trace a fingertip along those perfect lines, tracing every
sinewy muscle as they twine into his perfectly-shaped abs. You look down,
his cock jutting out of a nest of reddish golden curls. You smile wickedly
and trace your tongue along the line of hair trailing from his navel to his
crotch. He jumps, and then lets his Jedi control take over.

You flick your tongue over his head, happy when you get a taste of his warm
pre-come. He's big, bigger than you were used to, and you take your time
trying to relax your throat muscles. To his credit, the General refrains
from thrusting into your face and is content merely to twine his hands in
your hair. You feel a tingly sensation all over your body and suddenly your
throat relaxes completely, allowing you to swallow him. You sneak a peek
upwards, nearly coming yourself when you see those glittering blue-green
eyes half-closed and swimming in desire. He's barely hanging onto his
control, and you smile when he begins to rock under your face. You bring
your hands up to caress his flat nipples when he abruptly pulls you away.

"Don't..want...in..your..mouth..ready?" You pant, traces of the General's
juices dribbling out of the corner of your mouth and on your chin. You must
be quite a sight. The General smiles and sends you a mental image. It's
you, painted and flushed with desire, your eyes a brighter shade than normal
and your waist quite a bit smaller. The General smiles again, knowing you
are pleased with how he sees you. His fingers find your clit, rubbing and
pinching, causing waves of desire to crash over you.

He slides down your body, and soon his fingers are joined by the warm caress
of his tongue. You nearly jump off the bed with the stimulation, ready for
something more substantial. You're dripping already, and the General brings
you to climax with his mouth, his beard scraping your thighs as he licks up
and down your sex. He pulls you on top of him and kisses you soundly,
letting you taste yourself in his mouth. He thrusts his hips upward and
enters you, his cock buried to the hilt within your damp body. His hands
shift your hips so you're riding him, and his mouth latches onto a hardened
nipple.

He holds on longer than any man you've ever been with, but when you begin to
writhe and shake on his cock, he begins to lose control. You arch your back
and his mouth is level with your stomach. He places a sloppy, open-mouthed
kiss above your navel and comes with a passionate force. You feel him
soften within you, but are loathe to remove yourself from him. He pulls you
up and off, pulling you against his chest to sleep.

"I enjoyed that..made me forget about my cold." You snuggle into him and
hear him sigh, sated and content. He kisses your neck and drifts into
sleep, but not before he hands you a tissue, anticipating the next round of
sneezing.
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Loved it, hated it? Let me know chickadee1013@hotmail.com

"Begun, this Clone War has."--Yoda, "Attack of the Clones"