Date: Fri, 22 Apr 2005 12:03:18 -0700 (PDT)
From: Art Garfunkel <crazedfanboy1980@yahoo.com>
Subject: obi-wan-bruce-banner-and-boy-wonder

WARNING This contains graphic descriptions of sexual
intercourse between adult males and other creatures.
If this offends you, is not appropriate for viewing in
your location, or you are not of legal age, do not
read it.  Any resemblance of characters in this story
to the living is purely coincidental.
-------------------------------------

Oh sure, Bruce had done this before.  Robin and him
had been experimenting for years in the Batcave.  But
Robin was just a kid -- he didn't know anything.  He
couldn't make Bruce beg.  He hadn't progressed far
beyond lying on his back, spreading his legs, and
shouting "Holy Penetration, Batman!" at inappropriate
times.  It had become tiresome.  Bruce had never been
with a force user before.

Obi Wan too was having his doubts.  Not about the sex,
mind you.  He was a Jedi Master, after all.  Years of
catching from Qui Gon and pitching to Anakin had left
him more powerful than you can possibly imagine.  No,
he had entirely different concerns.  First, he had
gotten a strange vibe from driving in the Batmobile.
A little too phallic, if you asked him.  Made him
think Bruce was compensating for... well, you know.
Billions of dollars, batcave, manchild sex slave
dressed in circus colors, it all pointed to a tiny
penis.  Shame.  He was going to have to force
masturbate (forceturbate or force jerk) a bit to get
through the tortuous evening.

And another thing: Obi Wan was expecting the modern
ennippled Batman costume.  Why had Bruce come dressed
like Adam West from the 1960s series?  And why was it
turning him on so much?  Right then and there, Obi Wan
knew that, small penis or no, he was going to be in
for a night of hot bat love.

Bruce had enjoyed the force handjob.  The force
rimming wasn't bad either.  He was a little concerned
that Obi Wan hadn't actually touched him.  He just at
the back of the room, calmly saying, "You will not
come yet.  You will not come yet," while waving his
hands back and forth.  Bruce desperately craved Obi
Wan's lightsaber.  It was long, and strong, and bound
to get the friction on (The Batcave had been tuned
into Sir Mix-A-Lot's greatest hits lately).  Bruce
reached down to reach a button on his utility bat.
Lube sprayed everywhere.  Wrong button.  He tried
again.  Ahhh, release!  Oh, and the utility bat shot
out a batarang.  Like a snowspeeder around an AT-AT,
it slowly encircled Obi-Wan's legs.  The hunter had
become the hunted.  Hooking to the back of Obi-Wan's
Jedi robes, Bruce yanked the batarang string, and
Obi-Wan was as naked as Yoda was green and wrinkled.
Obi-Wan wasn't wrinkled though.  Oh no.

Strangely though, he was green.  Bruce checked his
eyes.  Obi-Wan's cock ring (it was so big!) glowed
green.  As Bruce had guessed, it was actually more of
a cock forcefield, generated by the Imperial Star
Destroyer Santorum in orbit over Circarpous IV.  Later
in the evening, disappointment would strike them both,
as a single A-Wing would crash into the Santorum's
deflector shield array, dropping Obi-Wan's cockfield.
That one stupid fault in the Imperial Star Destroyer
(hey, we had a deflector shield, let's put it outside
the ship where people can easily blow it up rather
than inside the vessel behind the shield) would come
close to ruining the night for them both.

Thank God Bruce had that lube button...'