Snips, Skyguy and the Senator (Star Wars Ahsoka x Anakin x Padme story) (Excerpt - Wet Dream)

When Ahsoka returned to her bedroom, her skin was flushed with a brighter hue of orange from what she had seen. Shutting the door behind her, she proceeded to dim the shades of the privacy windows, tuning out the nightlife of Coruscant beyond. The former padawan wasted no time in slipping her tight-fitting athletic panties down her legs. She wadded up her panties and then tossed those aside as well. 

She spread her legs open and wasted no time in dipping her pointer finger between her legs, pressing the digit to the wet seam of her cunt. Ahsoka whimpered as she began fingering herself, all while thinking of Anakin and Padme having sex. Her former master had his…penis inside Padme and he was moving it in and out and letting out those familiar grunts of his. The same type he would sometimes mutter while she had trained with him or fought alongside him on a mission. His toned body had rippled with muscle as he moved his hips between the beautiful senator’s spread legs. Ahsoka had scarcely ever thought of Anakin in that way, but now that she had happened upon him right in the middle of his sordid act, it was impossible not to salivate at the thought of his body. 

It had not been that much of a surprise to walk in on Anakin and Padme in such a manner. She had long suspected that the two of them had a relationship that went beyond friendship, ever since she had seen their interactions closely during a certain shuttle flight. But seeing the actual act of sex firsthand was another matter entirely. 

Padme’s moans had also been very arousing. Anakin’s penis must have felt very good inside her to prompt such sounds from her lips. And Ahsoka had to admit that the senator had an amazing-looking body. She may not have had as much tone as Ahsoka herself did, given Padme’s line of work as a politician, but she kept herself in great shame nonetheless. And her breasts were somewhat larger than Ahsoka’s own were, and she had seen them dancing up and down her chest with Anakin’s thrusting movements between her legs, her pink nipples doing figure eights. It was an enticing and captivating display for the togruta young woman.

Ahsoka pulled her fingers away from her pussy, a strange feeling of guilt suddenly overriding her arousal. What was she thinking, pleasuring herself to her former master and one of her closest friends? Their indiscretions were none of her business. This was Padme’s penthouse, and she and Anakin offered her their hospitality when she needed it. She should not have been peeping on them or touching herself to them, no matter how pent up she felt she was. 

Years of temperance and self-control instilled in her by the Jedi order could not easily be wiped away by her base desires. And perhaps they shouldn’t be either. Whatever her grievances with the Jedi order, they were an institution that had thrived for millenia. Surely they did not instill such teachings in their disciples if there was not a good reason for it. 

Shaking her head, Ahsoka slipped her panties back on and crawled beneath the covers. Soon enough she drifted off, thankful to finally have a sanctuary where she could have her first restful sleep in a long time, no longer having to worry about being mugged or killed in her sleep in the chaos of Coruscant’s lower levels. 

Or so the former padawan thought. 

Soon enough, she found herself on her knees, a pair of metal restraints clamped to her wrists behind her back. 

“Ahsoka Tano.”

She recognized that taunting voice from a memory, but she had no idea where it was coming from. 

“Show yourself!” Ahsoka defiantly shouted out. 

The figure in question was suddenly standing before her, as if he had materialized out of thin air. A pair of familiar robotic legs were right in front of her face. All at once, she recognized where she was - the throne room on Mandalore. The city was ablaze beyond the shattered glass windows, and the ground was scorched and scuffed from the familiar slash marks of a lightsaber fight. 

Maul stood before her, the former Sith grinning malevolently down at her. He crossed his arms as he sized her up. 

“You really thought you could come to my planet and defeat me? On your own?” he intoned. 

She fought against her restraints, looking around the room. Where were her clone troopers? Or Bo and her Nite Owls?

“This isn’t possible. We captured you. You’re in a Republic prison!” Ahsoka protested. 

He grinned, reaching down and brushing one of his gloved thumbs over her plush lips. “Think again, padawan.” 

With the other hand, the Zabrak reached down and fished out his member. Turning her gaze down to it, her eyes widened. His cock was red and black, with a similar series of tattoos and markings like those covering his skin. He stroked his member to full hardness until it was throbbing in front of her, a single bead of precum leaking from the fat tip. 

Maul reached down and gripped the tip of her montrals - one in each hand like a pair of handlebars. His cockhead brushed over her soft lips. “You should have joined me when I offered you the chance. And now you will pay the price for your refusal.” 

He pushed his hips forward. For some reason, she parted her lips of her own volition and flattened her tongue, allowing him to fill her mouth with one smooth push. All at once, she tasted the sweat of his black and red cock as the tip tickled her tonsils. 

“Mmm.” 

Had that moan come from her mouth?! Why was she taking delight in being made to pleasure one of her enemies? And how was any of this happening?!

Maul held onto the virgin young woman’s montrals and he began fucking her face with a steady rhythm, letting out savage grunts of pleasure as he did. Ahsoka let out slurping and sucking sounds and moaned around the Zabrak former Sith’s fuckstick despite herself, rubbing her knees together on the cold floor. She could feel herself growing wet between her legs from the oddly liberating experience of being used for another’s pleasure, all while a lather of spit dripped from her cock-filled lips each time he pushed inside. And against all common sense or reason, she curled her tongue around his cockhead and did her best to pleasure her enemy to the best of her ability, eager to finally be in such a position for the first time in her life. 

All at once, Maul was gone. The Mandalore throneroom was gone. Instead, she found herself in a tent. It was cold outside the tent, and through the partition of the entrance flap she could see snow dotting the landscape beyond. 

Force, where was she now?!