Stuck in the Middle With Chew
Chapter 2:
What's Wrong With Chew?
It began with a slight twitch in his left eye and a clenched fist as a strange sense of despair infiltrated the once calm and collected wookiee. The hairy creature began to furiously scratch at the base of his silky forehead whilst breathing out a deep and unsure pant. Han's gaze fixated upon chewies once gleaming features, noticing an instant change within him.
"You ok, bud?" Han inquired with qualities only the most empathetic nurse could possess, "you don't look so good." Han stretched out his rough-skinned palm and caressed the cheek of the slightly uneasy Chewbacca. The wookiee replied with an ear-piercing shriek that shook the entire ship and caused the smugler to jump back in fright.
"Don't call me a faggot, Chewie!" Han retorted in defence, "I was just checking your fur for Space-Sickness Fleas." But this only caused the furry figure to enrage with even more climax. Chewie roared and began to flail his arms before running up and down the ship.
'I wasn't trying to seduce you, pal' Han pleaded "I swear I'm as straight as the days are long!" The wookie continued his unruly rampage; he began to bang on the computer consoles with increased vigor, before squatting down onto the floor to release a monster shit which splattered down the walls and began to slither like Jabba. "Well, this is slightly unorthodox, buddy!" Solo pointed out whilst trying to figure out what on Kashyyyk was going on. "Galaxy"
Meanwhile, within the confines of Jabba's sordid palace, Greedo began to coat his long and bendy fingers with a lustrous bantha oil. Greedo invited the strongly potent smell into his nostrils as he exhaled with a longing and sexually frustrated sigh. It had been far too long since the olive skinned rodian had felt this good. Greedo stared into his reflection filled with dissipation whilst contemplating the impending and unspeakable acts he was about to perform, causing his body to tremble with anticipation.
Swinging the doors open, Greedo's luminous violet eyes were treated to the sight of Jabba laying upon a bed of Ithorian rose petals. "Are you ready yet Greedo?" Jabba asked with an intensity that Greedo had grown accustommed to, "My body awaits your supple touch." Greedo sachets into the dimly lit bedroom and his hands magnetise towards Jabba's disheveled skin. He slowly and delicately massages his inviting shoulders and flaccid foreskin until the glistening oil reveals the rodians own image, creating an aroused grin across his alien lips.
"Are you taking advantage of the reflective properties of my surface?" Jabba inquires whilst buttering a slice of space bread. A blush encompasses Greedo's cheeks as he scrambles to quickly change the subject, failing to ignore the almost blue-ball-inducing growth within his undergarments.
"Jabba?" The rodian pipes up with a shy tone to his voice. "Yes? Jabba replies with disinterest. "Why were we laughing earlier, when that gay bastard and hairy muff escaped from us?" Greedo questioned. "Well", Jabba begins to explain "everyone knows that Wookiee's are the second most claustrophobic creatures in the universe. So when we cut the fuel lines..." "We trapped them together in that ship with no escape!" Greedo interupts with a child-like glee. "Yes," Jabba continues to note "when the rebels find them, that ship will be coated in blood, hair and turds!" The two villains erupt into a fit of maniacal laughter. Jabba's eyes begin to wander towards Greedo's inner sanctum. "Now then, Greedo" the super-obese space slug wheezes, "I hope you washed that piss off your legs." Greedo begins to wince, as an elongated and thick tongue unravels out of jabba's cavernous mouth and begins to fondle his scaley ankles, as it works its way up.
"You are a one - never change"
Hours later, within the isolation of the Millenium Falcon, Chewie has started to pull hair from all over his body, focussing mostly on the scrotum. Han watches the entire performance with a look of horror and secret passion. After relieving his ballsack of several clumps of hair, his ominous pupils set their gaze upon Han. He starts to stomp towards the smuggler with foam rushing out of his gaping jaw. The grim visage causes a deep sense of dread within Solo, who begins to tickle his own bollocks in order to restore a calm order.
Han's mind casts itself back to a previous conversation. Within the flashback, the smuggler sits upon a loose fitting stool whilst staring into the eyes of Chewbacca's previous significant other. Mallatobuck regails Han with the story of how she first met Chewie and how reckless he once was. "How did you ever calm him down?" Han inquires. Malla let's out a strangely quiet yowl which indicates to Han the only technique that ever guaranteed a way out of his stressful moods. "You can't be serious!?" Han replies, with a tone of disbelief. Mallotobuck returns his comment with a strange wink as she downs her space cocktail. "Well" Han replies "I hope I never have to do that."
The smuggler is thrown out of his flashback by a crazed wookiee who slaps Han across his face. Chewbacca screams whilst violently rubbing his nipples and running around in a figure-eight pattern. After Han regains consciousness, Chewie begins making tracks towards Solo again. "Do I really have to do this!?" Han thinks to himself. Chewie, stands proud over the smuggler's face and starts to raise his arms. "Well" Han sighs, "here goes nothing." His hand stretches out to grasp at Chewie's drooping and fluffy member, and begins to vigorously rub it like an angry maid trying to get rid of a stubborn stain. Chewie yowls in anger and tries to evade the advances, but Han is far too quick and far too persistant. The wookie tries to run and thrusts his body all over the ship, but the brave smugler stubbornly continues to force-masturbate, a trick he had learnt from Yoda.
"C'mon, you know you like it, you filthy boy" Han teases as he uses his left hand to fondle Chewbacca's gooch. The Wookie tries to hide his pleasure, he had never been touched like this before. Chewbacca takes in every second as his distressed demeanor begins to dissapate. With the fluffy figure fully erect, Han carefully removes his own trousers with careful and practised precision - never once losing grasp upon his partner's third leg. Chewie releases an uneasy growl but Han silences his protests with a solitary finger, pressed against his bushy lips. "It's ok, pal, no one has to know." Solo takes the wookie's trembling paw and guides it towards the tent rising within the smuglers tight skivvies. Han bites his own lip in order to surpress the intense moans from the situation he has long anticipated.
A crackling of radio static interupted the sexually-charged pair, boners subsiding a little; the dark side of the force was felt throught the craft as an iconic wheezing invaded the space craft's passages. Big, shiny helmet, black as the Death Star itself, appeared on the main computer monitor after a few minor flashes sparked it into life.
Darth Vader stared menacingly at the two bare penises and four testicles between the heroes' legs, licking his dry lips between the bell of his head and the imposing helm. His base was hidden, like a secret. With a tightening tug, he adjusts his faux leather gloves before teasing them with a warning:
"You can not hope to evade the power of the STIFFY Beam!"
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