Musical inspiration: "Vachinde" by Madhu Priya, Ramky
Nocomebackie=Banishment
Work Text:
Removing her boots, Padmé Amidala heaved a sigh and reclined on the small window seat of her bedchamber. Today's meeting with the Galactic Council had proven particularly tedious, complete with the Coruscant assembly sticking their nose into Naboo affairs, as per usual. Padmé bit her lip, resolving in her bitterness over the Coruscant tendency to presume they called the shots over all galactic affairs, simply based on their claim as the alleged originating planet of humans.
It hardly mattered where her species had originated – Naboo was her home, and had just as much to offer in terms of both resources and diplomatic experts as any other planet dominated by humans. Despite how opinionated her mother had become regarding the need to stay on strong terms with Coruscant, Padmé refused to let the older woman dictate her political actions, as she had when Padmé was younger. Although still new to her role as senator, she had no intention of deferring decisions regarding her planet to others, family or not.
Rising from the divan, Padmé decided to escape this stuffy room and make her way down to where those arrogant brethren of hers never bothered to tread – the swamp. Seeing as she had retired to her secluded cottage as opposed to the senatorial residence in Theed, she relished in the thankfully quiet serenity of the humid afternoon as well as the proximity of the swamp grounds at the foot of the green hillside she had already begun to descend.
Glancing furtively around, Padmé silently let down her hair from its net, releasing the hairpiece to the ground beside her feet. Then, once the glade seemed truly deserted apart from the ever-present song of swamp insects, she chanced the removal of her thin cotton robe from around her shoulders, letting it fall to the grass and expose her two-piece outfit. Her midriff now exposed to the dappled afternoon sun filtering through the canopy overhead, the Senator of Naboo waded slowly into the water, closing her eyes and inhaling to savor the fresh, moist air.
Moments later, her feet touched the muddy swamp floor, toes curling in utter relaxation. For the first time in what felt like months, Padmé's muscles completely relaxed.
A subtle movement of water behind her caught her attention, though not alarmingly so. Pivoting to look at what she assumed was a bird or large fish, her breath caught as she took in the sight of her long-time friendly acquaintance and political confidant.
"Heyday ho, Senatah," Jar Jar grinned amicably down at her. "What brings yousa here?"
"Forgive me, Jar Jar," Padmé swallowed nervously, but made no move to cover herself.
It was only Jar Jar, after all. She trusted him more than most Naboo men of her own culture. "I came for a swim. I didn't expect you'd be back here."
Jar Jar nodded and reclined on his back, backstroking lazily atop the deep green water. "Since nocombackie, misa spend most days away from the swamp, but today the water is bombad for paddlewompy."
Padmé reclined beside him. "Yes, perfect weather for swimming."
In all, she was impressed he had taken to slipping back into full Gunganese when around her rather than favoring Galactic Basic for her benefit. It hadn't even taken her long to pick up the differences, spending time as she did with both Jar Jar and Boss Nass as they worked to improve Gungan representation in the Senate.
Unbidden, her thoughts turned to the latest Coruscant senator to question her planet's status. Then he had had the gall to comment on her hairstyle and request a walk along the veranda, after which she had escaped to finish their shared bottle of cider in much-needed solitude back in her cottage. No doubt the sort of distinguished young man her mother would insist she give a chance.
Padmé huffed at the memory of his brusque complacency, gently backward stroking in silence beside Jar Jar. As her elbow lightly brushed Jar Jar's shoulder, she went to excuse herself before he spoke first. "Yousa okeyday?"
Padmé almost giggled, the cider still warm in her belly. Why lie?
"Not really," she began, "Those Coruscant politicians are always making trouble, presuming to dictate decisions for Naboo. But I promise, I will make sure the Gungans secure a proper voice on the council."
"Wisa thanken yousa," came Jar Jar's soft reply, "Yousa maken bombad efforts."
Somewhere in the canopy above, a bird screeched. Another pause ensued, and Padmé watched several yellow and reddish leaves flutter to the water's surface around them.
"Yousa wanten a ride?"
The Gungan's voice brought her out of her languid reverie, as she turned to face him, brown eyes sparkling gently in the sunlight.
"Yousa can lean on misa, wisa floaten together." He clarified.
Why not? She decided. He was an expert swimmer, after all. She wouldn't have to worry about floating too far or even colliding with the bank if she somehow dozed off.
Without a word, she pulled herself through the water, closing the distance between them and laying herself gently on her back across his upper chest. Idly, she noted the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she pondered the brown spotted designs on his muscled shoulder. Suddenly, she realized she'd never before seen the Gungan without his shirt…
Come to think of it, she hadn't even seen many human men without their shirts. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she folded them over her abdomen and let herself relax to the rocking of the current.
Why was she still picturing his muscles in her mind's eye?
Because he's one of very few males in your life and of a different species, at that. But to exoticize is not only disrespectful, but distasteful.
Somehow though, at this moment, she didn't care so much for what was respectful. Holding her breath, Padmé brought up her fingers and carefully played them along the smooth, moist shoulder beside her.
She felt Jar Jar tense ever so slightly beneath her. "Thank you…for the ride." Was all she managed, and he seemed to relax.
"Can misa do da same?" he asked, perhaps the quietest she'd ever heard the Gungan speak.
Realizing she was now treading very risky waters if they were to somehow be caught, Padmé found herself spurred on even further. Stars knew, after half a decade working alongside him, she trusted Jar Jar and couldn't think of anywhere she'd rather be right then.
"Yes," she uttered, just above a whisper.
She felt his hands rather than saw them, the pads of his fingers slightly rougher than the skin of his shoulders, the tiny bumps creating a relaxing friction on her own bare shoulders. She stifled a sigh as shivers shot down her spine, fingers and toes tingling pleasantly.
Unbidden, the memory of Jar Jar grabbing that fruit with his tongue back on Tatooine flooded her mind. Exotic, indeed. While she knew virtually nothing of intimate affairs, something about that memory of his using that muscular appendage was doing things to her – delicious, warm sensations in the pit of her belly. Truly, how much had that cider affected her?
Surely, she couldn't get him to display that trick again – was she seriously considering asking if he wanted to snack on a random fruit up a tree they passed under or worse, some poor insect?
Yes, she was.
"I'm famished," she chanced a small stretch, moving the fingers of her opposite hand down his other shoulder as his stroking remained steady along both her arms. "Are those shuura fruit up there?"
Sure enough, they happened to be floating just under a chunk of the canopy sporting the delectable yellow fruits. After all, that cider had left her wanting.
In a flash that made Padmé gasp, the Gungan's tongue shot out about a full meter to grasp the nearest fruit, retracting as swiftly as it had appeared. Sitting up slightly, Padmé turned around with a smile to see Jar Jar holding the fruit out to her with his left hand.
"For yousa, Senatah." The ghost of a smile played at his lips, different from the usual grin.
As Padmé took a bite of the fruit, she was too busy focusing on his strange yellow gaze to catch the dribble of juice that promptly splattered over her front, tainting the bright white cotton with a dark yellow streak.
"Oh stars," she broke his stare, suddenly aware that the top had to be washed quickly lest it stain…and that was when she knew she had lost all sense. Feeling so unfazed at the notion of stripping before Jar Jar.
Would he even notice? Unaware if his people had a sense of propriety involving nudity, she couldn't assume. So surely, it couldn't be harmful if she just went for it? After all, she wore an undergarment beneath.
Steeling her resolve, Padmé removed her now sticky top in one swift motion and began dunking the fabric into the water, rinsing and wringing out the moisture. Once finished, Padmé knew she couldn't possibly wear the top while it was still so wet. Placing it across her thigh, she decided to let it dry. Reclining back on Jar Jar, she marveled at the amazing sensation of his smoothness against her back. No nipples, no hair…just flesh pulled taut over hard, lean muscles.
"Sticky," was all she remarked, and he said nothing, seeming content to keep floating along.
Stars, this was the strangest predicament Padmé had ever found herself in – and she'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit it was also the most fun.
Fun. An experience in which she rarely partook. Retrieving the fruit from her lap, Padmé brought it again to her lips, taking another sample and not caring as much this time as the juice dribbled down her chest.
The next words escaped her before she could stop them. "You can have a taste too if you like."
This time, she did squeal as Jar Jar's tongue shot out once more, this time forward and swept across her belly to clean the sweet trail of juice. The sensation had shot straight to her groin and Padmé ground her thighs together involuntarily.
"Did me scaren yousa?" came Jar Jar's voice from behind her head.
That was all the encouragement she needed. "No," she replied, turning around with a gleam in her dark eyes despite the blush on her cheeks. "But I think I want some revenge."
Leaning forward in a motion she could only hope approached his agility, Padmé paused in a moment's hesitation before relenting and running her own tongue partially down his chest.
The Gungan made a quiet crooning sound. "Senatah, misa no wanten to tell yousa what to do, but…me no sure if wisa should do disa."
"I promised you a voice in the Senate," Padmé still couldn't bring herself to meet that yellow gaze again as she explored further down his abdomen with her soft lips.
"Trust is necessary. We share a planet, Jar Jar. Our species should become more acquainted."
In the back of her mind, she had to ask herself if her spite toward her mother's overbearing nature and the Coruscant leadership had driven her mad…but somehow, at this moment, she couldn't quite care. For right now, she was consorting with a Gungan in every sense of the word and loving every moment of it.
As she arrived at the waistline of his trousers, she paused. This truly was new. While she had a vague idea from her schooling the anatomy males possessed here, she'd no idea how that might look on a Gungan. From what she recalled, when men were prepared for intimacy, it would grow beneath the pants. Chancing a light touch over his groin area, Padmé's suspicions were confirmed when she felt no growth. No lump at all, in fact.
Exotic, indeed.
"Can yousa keep doen that? With yousa mouth?" came Jar Jar's voice from above. He followed up his request masked as a question with a tentative lick of his own on her shoulder, to which she raised her face just enough to gently nose into that tongue.
Finally feeling some hesitation, Padmé glanced up at his face. Then, realizing it was simpler to keep going than think too hard, she eased down his trousers ever so slightly, just below his hips.
There was a cleft – a V-shape much like her own only with no hair and a slightly darker shade of orangish brown than the rest of his skin.
"Where?" she asked, at a loss as to where he felt the most sensation.
"Misa wanten to try something," Jar Jar maneuvered slightly, "But with yousa permission. Can yousa turn around?"
Padmé blinked. "I can remove my bottoms as well…"
"Yesa," the Gungan nodded, seeming shy himself.
Taking a deep breath, Padmé shimmied out of her own white slacks, folding them haphazardly in her right hand as she turned to face Jar Jar's feet. The shuura fruit rolled off her knee into the water, forgotten.
This was it. Stars, there was no going back now she realized, as she felt her underpants move ever so slightly to the side. For better or worse, she somehow cared more about the need to keep some form of attire on should someone catch them than feel too self-conscious about her current state of exposure.
"Yousa asked where," came that voice again, still less shrill than she had ever heard it, "From what misa seein here, same as where yousa has it."
Jaw setting in embarrassment, Padmé threw herself into trying to use her tongue the way the Gungan did – and of course not coming close. It was much too short.
Beginning with his inner thighs, she buried her chin and mouth beneath the subtle mound where his thighs met, stuck out her tongue and…was startled to feel a very narrow, mildly moist slit there. Her actions were met with a full-body quiver from the body beneath her.
Licking her lips at the faintly salty but otherwise neutral flavor, Padmé managed just above a whisper, "It's the same."
"Lady Gungans also have da same," Jar Jar softly stroked her thighs, "Wisa worken together, but theysa give wisa their eggs for maken babies."
Somehow, Padmé found herself picturing two black holes colliding. Well, back to work. Delving back into the space between his thighs to get at that small opening, the senator nearly cried out at the warm, rapid flick she felt to her very exposed privates.
She was completely on display for Jar Jar…more than she had ever been for another. Which reminded her…
"Lady Gungans?" she sputtered and gripped his hips, as those tortuous flicks increased in speed.
"Since da no comebackie, misa not seein any lady Gungans. Before dat, never did either."
Padmé supposed his clumsiness would have understandably turned off some women of multiple species – and yet, it had never bothered her. And right now, she couldn't imagine it ever would. In fact, if anything, he had largely outgrown his adolescent ungainliness.
He resumed exploring her with his mouth. Already, the flicks from that wonderful tongue were quickly driving her mad, as she desperately focused on her own task at hand. Even in her scattered experimental sessions with hand-held micro droids, she had never known such sensations. When that sinuous menace began circling the apex of her thighs, the upside down angle sent a jolt of electricity through all of her limbs.
Evidently noticing he'd hit a sweet spot, Jar Jar kept up those delicious circles. Mustn't neglect him. Inserting her own small tongue in and out of that tight crevasse, she pondered the rhythmic clenching of that opening surrounding her lips. Well. If his continuing mewls and fingers lacing in the ends of her long dark tresses were any indication, she was also doing something right.
The sweat beaded on her brow, both from the humid air and the pressure building in her pelvis as the Gungan's tongue finally entered her after what seemed an eternity of circling her nub from behind. When the tip of that maddening serpent curled upward inside of her in an experimental swipe, Padmé saw stars and gasped out in shock as her body began to spasm, in the next moments involuntarily closing her lips around the edge of the slit against her mouth.
Evidently, the pressure from her lips evoked a similar reaction in Jar Jar whose sharp intake of breath closely preceded a violent quaking of his hips beneath her upper body as he gently fisted her hair. As that tight, now pulsating orifice clamped around her mouth, Padmé dug her fingers into the Gungan's thighs as she rode out her own climax.
Utterly spent, the Senator of Naboo collapsed atop the soon-to-be first Gungan representative to the Galactic Council.
"I promise on the stars," Padmé managed between labored pants, "You will represent Naboo in my absence. You will make our shared planet proud."
"Yesa, Senatah," the Gungan resumed threading his fingers through her hair. "Misa promise."