Unedited Jedi and his Apprentice

He steadied himself on the bannister, even a childhood spent on Coruscant hadn’t steeled him for great heights. Or rain, for that matter. This world was wetter than most, so much so that it’s makeup was explicitly engineered for inevitable month long downpours. Every building was sloped at the walls, every roof grooved and channeled and between every long row of industry and residence, a great storm drain roared above the sound of thunder and rain. Even the walk-ways, teeming with civilians, were designed to pour off the excess water to the engineered rivers below.
	Renno let out a grunt, pushing away from the view. There was only so much ingenuity he could take in and appreciate. This world brought out other things in him. Fashion’s eternal battle between function and form meant the city’s female population had taken to wearing anything waterproof and tight fitting. Asides from the high boots, local clothing norms had ended up leaving the average man’s imagination wholly unexercised. Fortunately for him, male styles left more room for movement and, especially, more places to hide things that drew attention.
	His hand strayed to his jacket, giving the cold metal cylinder that hid beneath a light tap. It was for reassurance. He’d already seen muscle, albeit incompetent, but muscle nonetheless. A few waves of the hand had seen him through security easily enough. The same couldn’t be said the others who had came in on his flight. Just twenty odd meters behind him an Ithorian, no doubt a refugee from the nearby system, had attracted the attention of three of the planet’s more rowdy guards. A loud, crunching thud turned his attention back towards the cantina entrance and with one last glance at the abused Ithorian he walked inside.
	The cantina itself was no different in its adherence to the city’s unspoken rules of function and form. Seats blended seamlessly with walls, floors rose elegantly into stages and lights snaked between the many grooves that decorated the ceiling. Everything was grey or some shade of dark and sullen blue, a rule that even applied to the serving slaves. All of whom were Rutian Twi’leks.
	He took a seat near the cantina corner, every now and then glancing up at the sound of the doors drying mechanisms, making evident he was waiting for someone else. After three false alarms, Renno’s attention turned to the table before him. His eyes activated a holo display which, in turn, sparked a subtle smirk. It wasted no time in making its purpose clear, the first image was of a long haired Mirialan, slender and dressed in a particularly decorative and revealing piece of local form-fitting clothing. His finger hovered over the deactivation button before his underlying appreciation for local dress spurred him to look at the next girl. Unlike the Mirialan, this Twi’lek was half naked and as buxom as they come. He rolled his eyes, still smiling, and deactivated the display.
	Maybe a dozen or so minutes and one half finished ale later, one of the alarms rang true. A slight figure, no taller than your average Bothan, wandered into the cantina b-lining straight toward him. He couldn’t make details out through the smoke and lights of the ongoing performance, but it seemed he wasn’t the only one that had made an effort at fitting in.
	‘Master Gann…’ greeted the new arrival as she took a seat beside him. Despite the title, there was a only miniscule age difference between the two, at least by conventional Jedi standards. She was maybe a little under half a dozen years his younger yet when asked if she wanted a master his senior, she’d refused, sticking by him through thick and thin.
	Regardless he gave a nod and a smile, casually deactivating the display as it reacted to the flicker of his apprentice’s iris. Sparing her from seeing any more than a second or so of muscle bound alien rent-boys. Though he did spare some thought for its ability at gender recognition.
	‘Oh, want me to turn it back on, Tria?’ Questioned Renno, as he spotted her now slightly reddened cheeks.
	He could see her mentally fumble for a comeback and let her get out one awkward, if oddly alarmed, stutter before raising a hand.
	‘Relax apprentice, it was a joke,’ he grinned at her expense, rubbing it in with a patronising shoulder ‘Now you said you had some good news for me?’
	So easily flustered, she cleared her throat and handed him a datapad. ‘I followed the smuggler to this building,’ she shuffled up besides him to point, her leggings squeeking against the seat as she did so, ‘It was an unmarked starport, teeming with droids and workers.’
	He gave her an impressed nod, much to her noticeable elation, before gesturing for her to continue. Her finger swept across the datapad, lithe body pressing slightly against his, to navigate through her ad-hoc formatting. ‘I asked one of the workers I saw if I could use his datapad and I managed to download this…’ She paused, opening up another map, this time of the port’s interior decked out with a full annotated list of who was using which hangar along with which ship needed loading. One name in particular was of importance, it was the smuggler they’d been tracking. He was set to be loading a series empty crates, as Renno had predicted, and setting off for a location that remained undisclosed.
	Renno perked a brow before Tria piped up again, ‘You’d think they’d be more cautious with a datapad packed out with this much stuff…’ she murmured, hands now resting at her side and on her thigh, eyeing him for more input.
	‘Looking the part goes a long way on a world like this,’ reasoned Renno, ‘And you really did put some effort into the outfit.’
	The apprentice set free a broad smile, always glad to hear her hard work appreciated. In truth was no false compliment, Tria had been her usual diligent self and gone the extra mile with her disguise. From her over-the-knee boots, navy gloves, short sleeved jacket and leggings so tight one could spot the subtle striations between her thigh muscles, everything fitted the local aesthetic. His gazing eyes soon stumbled on his staring reflection in the fabric of her leggings. That proved sobering.
	‘As for this,’ began Renno, refocusing on the datapad in hand, ‘This gives me an idea.’

P2

	The crate they’d found was the only empty one with ventilation and an interior light source. From what Renno could make out of the huttese markings on the crate’s front, this container was set to to be stocked with genetically manipulated war beasts at the smuggler’s rendezvous. Yet, despite that chilling detail, there were more pressing things on the Jedi’s mind.
	The trip to the spaceport had exposed him to even more of this world’s culture, in particular its obsession with dancers and escorts. Furthermore, the rain brought out different facets of the disguise his apprentice had chosen, a disguise he was growing increasingly fond of. Now, however, stuffed in a crate with very little in the way of movement, he was alone with that same apprentice, idly watching her set up a bed with only her jacket to use as a pillow.
	Taking it off exposed just how flagrant this society was with clothing. Even though she had chosen to remain conservative, adherence to local trends meant her top was little more than a tight lace backed crop top vest that collared around her neck. He chewed his lip, eyeing her properly now. Her body was tight and refined, bubbly in all the right places. As she leant forward, the confines of the crate squeezed her lithe little body against his own.
	He slowly turned to face her, voyeuristic gaze settling on the easily unfastened strings of her form fitting crop top. His hand moved to it giving it a subtle and unthinking tug. In response, the once steady breaths from his apprentice faltered and after a few dragging moments, the now rosey cheeked apprentice shuffled her body tighter against his to better accommodate his perversions.
	He pulled properly now, unfastening her dark blue top from her pale white frame. His hands filled the space her jacket had vacated, giving her a tug at the hips so that she was sat snugly on his lap. Tria didn’t hesitate either, her emerald eyes avoiding contact as she reached into his pants, tugging free his shaft before treating him to slow, measured strokes.
He pulled her closer, his tip pressing against her stomach as her shoulder rested against his chest. His hands, freed now, moved in two different directions with one sliding up her torso to grab a handful of her uncovered breasts whilst the other began tugging at her leggings. Needless to say, she complied, slightly lifting herself to let him free her luxuriously soft behind from the confines of her clothing.
	As it popped free, her breath immediately grew more ragged and her strokes picked up the pace. Her master’s adoring hands turned her to push her parted lips against his, and press her lithe little body tighter against him. With little warning, he tugged aside her panties, slipping a finger between her cheeks to coax at her rim eliciting a wordless groan of enthusiasm.
	He pulled away from the kiss first, raising his finger to her lips and letting her suck it as if on instinct. Satisfied, he took a hold of her hips once more, moving her little frame like a doll beside him before tugging her head down to his shaft by the padawan braid.
	Her narrow lips, so often described as icey, wrapped around his tip in a warm embrace, pressing down his length with her tongue waiting eagerly behind to coax at what her lips could no longer reach. He clutched at her breasts, nipples now rock hard to the touch and eyes glinting with elation at every groan of pleasure she got out of him. Diligent as ever.
	When he lifted her off him with a scoop under her arms, his shaft glistened with her saliva. She eyed him, panting, drooling and eager for direction before he finally turned her away facing the crate wall and still on her booted knees. She peered over her shoulder at him gloved hands splayed at her side to support her weight on the crate wall.
	Kneeling behind her in turn, his shaft pressed between her cheeks, eliciting another soft groan of enthusiasm as she wriggled her behind to line up his tip with her rim. He muttered her name and without hesitation her little lithe frame pressed against him once more, pushing out a low, part pleasured, mostly pained groan as she took more and more of him in.
Before long he’d feel her soft behind squeeze up against his pelvis. Any strokes of adoration or affection had been replaced by something far more carnal. When she had him all, she began working to coax his shaft just like her lips had done moments earlier. He didn’t leave the girl to work alone and soon his hips began slamming against her with loud smacks of skin on skin.
	‘Master…’ She finally moaned, the last trailing syllable jolted with every hit of his hips against her behind, only to be silenced as his fingers pressed against her lips, spurring her to suck on them without so much as an instruction.
	When her muffled groans and sweat slicked body became too much for his will power, the Jedi abruptly pulled free, sending jets of warm cum up the back of his panting apprentice before breathlessly dropping back to his makeshift bed, leaving his exhausted apprentice to happily clean up the mess he’d made.