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...'