Padmé Gets A Mouthful
by Pyro with Das Flute
Padmé stirred in her sleep, her eyes barely peeking open to see the early rising sunlight spreading across the carpeted floor of her bedroom. Beside her rested her husband, Anakin Skywalker. Last night had been their first night together in months, the invasion of Coruscant finally bringing her love home to her. A clang of metal sounded from somewhere within her apartment. She shot up in bed, a cold fear shooting up her spine.
"Anakin…" she whispered, pushing her sleeping husband gently beside her to wake him. "Ani, I think someone is here."
The gruff Jedi groaned and muttered, "It's just the cook I told you about."
Padmé sighed, relief washing over her. She recalled Anakin telling her last night how he had a surprise for her, a simple home-style breakfast like the kind she loved and so was often denied due to protocol, as first a queen and a senator.
"I'll go make sure he knows his way around," Padmé said as she slipped out of bed. Anakin was already fast asleep again, the previous day’s battle no doubt having taken a toll on him.
Walking barefoot through her spacious apartment, Padmé didn't think twice about changing or putting on an overcoat. As she understood it the cook was a besalisk, and an alien with four arms. A good fit for a master chef, as Anakin claimed he was. She was still dressed in her blue septsilk night gown, with strings of veda pearls running out from the metal brooch at her upper chest and around her biceps. Her hair was still neatly done up with a small triangular piece at the top. Though she had hoped for a bought of lovemaking with her husband, Anakin had quickly fallen asleep. True, he had jolted awake with a nightmare in the middle of the night; but as a result, he was hardly in the mood then for anything romantic. Padmé wasn't concerned; they had plenty of time now, especially with the war finally nearing an end with the death of Count Dooku.
As she moved through the wide open rooms, the japor snippet dangling between her large breasts, Padmé could smell something cooking already. It was a familiar scent, one from her childhood. Rounding into the kitchen the young senator saw the visage of a huge, rotund alien moving about, grubby pants barely kept up at his waist. He was whistling as he jockeyed between pans, stirring about the contents and flipping them about.
Padmé cleared her throat slightly to get his attention. The besalisk turned quickly, his blubber swaying like a great wave across his stomach.
"Oh!" he remarked, looking upon the pregnant beauty before him. "The lady of the house!" He bowed slightly.
"You're the cook, the friend of Obi-Wan," Padmé said as she nodded to him.
"Yes, Dexter Jettster at your service, Your Highness!" he said with a flourish.
Padmé giggled. "Please, just call me Padmé."
"And I’m just Dex – but I'll have none of that, Your Highness. I know your history, love, and this be your home. You're still the Queen here!" Dexter insisted.
Padmé smiled and shook her head, finding this large man rather amusing. "Anakin tells me you're quite the cook," she commented, as she moved over to a stool at the center island.
"I am quite something, love. Hopefully that extends to my cooking as well. So far it hasn’t steered me wrong."
"He tells me you have a story for everything on the menu at your diner."
"Aye, that's true! A good meal needs a good tale to justify it. Nothing stirs hunger like a bit of adventure or romance, isn't that right?" Dexter grinned as he turned back to the burners, resuming his impressive multi-appendage cooking.
"True enough, though are we talking about strictly a hunger for food, now?" Padmé offered slyly.
Dexter chuckled, "Good point, love. Well maybe it can work both ways. A good meal can get one hungry in a whole new way."
"That's a bold claim, Dex. I'm curious to see what you can whip up for me this morning."
"I'll try not to disappoint." Dexter winked at Padmé as he peeked over his shoulder. The senator smiled in return and thought about disappointment she had suffered in bed last night, her expression diminishing.
Dexter noticed this. "I see I've struck a nerve. Your Highness has been dealt a low limmie, I’d wager.”
Padmé recognized the sabacc term enough from games with her friend, Princess Sozharay’A, to know it wasn’t a good hand. She wasn't typically inclined to divulge personal details to a stranger, or nearly anyone for that matter. But he was already privy to her marriage – or at least some type of intimate relationship with – Anakin, and if her husband trusted him, she would, too. "I shouldn't complain, really. The war has taken its toll and my selfish desires are just that, selfish."
"A lady needs to see to her needs if she's to be of the right mind. We're all sentient beings, love, and we've all got needs and desires. You expect yourself to transcend us mere mortals? Shed off fleshy desires and the carnal cravings of crude matter?" Dexter's tone toyed with being judgmental, just to make his point.
"Oh of course not, but…" Padmé's mind trailed off. "You're right, I shouldn't be too hard on myself."
"Nay, ye shouldn't. Now go out into the living room and take a comfortable seat and I'll be along with just what you need."
Padmé left the kitchen and returning the living room, its curved walls made of transparisteel, giving her a spectacular view of Galactic City. She took a seat on circular cushioned chair, before her a small round glass table with a globe ornament sitting atop it.
She gazed out onto the city, listening to the dampened hum and whistle of the passing traffic. Her fingers absentmindedly smoothed her skirt over her rounded, pregnant belly.
"How far along are you?"
Padmé turned quickly, not hearing the huge besalisk approach. "Oh, I'm about seven months. It's showing quite a bit."
"Aye, it is. You're doing well to hide it, though it's a shame to cover up such a beauty."
Padmé smiled at him. "Thank you, Dex. I appreciate that."
"I hope your husband appreciates it too," Dexter added as he set down a small tray before Padmé on the glass table.
A cup of ardees and a slice of Wasaka berry pie were carefully placed alongside each other. Padmé smiled at the choice of breakfast. Any time of the day was a good time for pie. Ani knew her preferences well, and had obviously passed it along to Dexter. "Oh he does appreciate it," Padmé insisted.
"Not enough, I fear. The boy has left you wanting." Dexter furrowed his brow in disapproval, shaking his head, his big jowls blubbering back and forth. "A real man gives a lady what she really craves, even if she's not admitting it. Even a Jedi should know that. But even they need to have more respect for the difference between knowledge and wisdom, just like I’m always telling Ben…"
"Oh hush, you're being too hard on him. And too nosy, I might add," Padmé said pointedly. She sat forward and picked up the small cup of ardees. She looked at the dark, inky drink. "I take it with cream, usually."
"I should have guessed. How much?"
"Quite a lot, actually. Bring me the pitcher and I'll see to it myself."
"Be right back, Your Highness," Dexter said with a slight nod.
Padmé waited idly, several minutes passing before the besalisk returned.
"Had trouble finding it?" she asked.
"No, I decided to whip you up a fresh serving," Dexter said as she set down a small pitcher of white, gooey looking cream.
"A fresh serving? This isn't my usual?" Padmé asked curiously.
"Nay, love. This is my own concoction. Dexter's finest."
Padmé reached for the cream and lifted it in one hand, bringing it under her nose and sniffed it. It was tangy and pungent. Different from her usual atomically aerated ettel nut-flavored short-wavelength blue milk substitute… but still was a bit familiar as well. "This will go well with my ardees?"
"I think you'll love it," Dexter pressed. “I haven’t had a complaint about it yet.”
Padmé dabbed a finger into the pitcher and licked it clean. She tasted it and after a moment commented, "Has a sweet aftertaste. I like it. You'll have to share the recipe with me."
"There's no recipe, Your Highness, but I'd be happy to share the source."
Padmé cocked her head, suspicious of what he was getting at. "All right," she agreed hesitantly.
"Might as well give you your main course, then…" Dexter reached for his waist and started to untie his pants. "Two besalisk sausages!" He pulled open his pants and out fell twin cocks. Enormous, veiny dicks as long as Padmé's forearm, each dripping with pre-cum, already semi-erect. "Now to get at that cream you liked so much, you'll first have to eat your meal. The first load of the day comes easy but you'll have to work for the second, I'm afraid."
Padmé was aghast. Sitting in her living room, in her nightgown, with her husband asleep in the next room, and a huge, four-armed obese short order cook was now exposing himself to her. And he had two cocks, no less!
"Don't be shy, love. Like I said, a real man knows what a woman really wants. I can see that hunger in yer eyes. Take a grab, why don't ya?"
Padmé gulped. "You… There are two of them!"
"Double your pleasure, Your Highness. And they're both all yours."
"I… I…" Padmé stammered, flabbergasted, shocked, embarrassed… she could hardly process the moment.
"Enough of your stalling, love, put that pretty mouth to better use than jawdropping!" Dexter insisted.
"What? What kind of girl do you take me for?!" Padmé looked up at the besalisk, taking her eyes away from his huge double dicks for the first time since their unveiling.
"Aye, don't be kidding yourself. You've got that cock hungry look in yer pretty eyes!"
"My husband is in the other room, Dex." Padmé said affirmatively, but in truth her mind was awash in confusion. She kept staring at the massive dicks hovering in the air just centimeters from her face. They were… attractive.
"That lad is fast asleep. And don’t worry, I've got the ears of a gand. I'll know he's coming before the boy even gets out of bed."
"I'm married!" Padmé protested, her voice growing louder, more confident. She looked up at the fat cook, "I'm very impressed with your... cocks, Dex, but this is too much!"
"Bah, all you want is cock right now. And you'll get no better offer than these double proton torpedoes right here, you know that."
Padmé sighed and gazed at the meaty appendages swaying before her delicate, soft face. These were the nicest set of dicks she'd seen this side of Kashyyyk. She hesitated, only for Dexter to continue, "Your breakfast is getting cold, Your Highness. You could at least warm it up a bit."
The Senator huffed, and smirked up at him. "Real cute, Dex." She looked at the dangling dongs and licked her lips, her mouth was watering. She reached for one cock and then the other, taking hold of them both, her hands quickly falling into a stroking rhythm on either shaft.
"That's it love, follow your natural instincts."
Padmé quickly released the dicks, taken aback by the insinuation. "Excuse me? You think I'm some kind of sl-" Before she could finish her sentence Dexter grabbed the back of her head and shoved her wide open mouth down on one of his erect pricks. Padmé fought back, crying around the cock in her mouth and pushing at his thighs but the besalisk was too strong and kept her face easily pressed onto his huge dick. He didn't push too hard, just shoving the tip past her sweet lips. She tried to spit it out, but to no avail. Dexter eased up on her head, letting her pull off slightly before shoving back down again, further this time, forcing about ten centimeters into her mouth, nearly a third of his length.
The senator kept moaning in protest but her shoving has ceased. Dexter let up again and her pretty face ascended along his shaft again before she shoved it back down, this time driving half his long cock into her mouth and down her throat. She gurgled in response and coughed around the invading shaft. Meanwhile one of Padmé's hands found the neglected twin dick and started to gently stroke it, her other hand going to the base of the first rod and finding his huge, fist-sized testicles dangling underneath.
Dexter let go of the beautiful politician's head and Padmé looked up at him defiantly. Her cheeks were concave as she sucked hard on the thick meat pole buried in her mouth, her face moving back up its length to the tip. She pulled the entire cock from her mouth, drool spilling down her chin. Her right hand gripped its fat girth tightly and made hard, fast strokes. Wordlessly she stuck out her tongue and flicked it over the puffy crown of the dick, looking down at the piss hole as pre-cum oozed out.
"I think I want some of that cream from the source this time, Dex," she said at last and then devoured the dick again, shoving her face down further than before, taking nearly all the huge cock in one gulp.
"Oh fuck love, you're good at that!" Dexter groaned as he looked down at the cock hungry beauty. She slurped and spit her way up and down his dick with a ferocity of a nexu stalking an arboreal octopus. Satisfied with the sloppy coating of drool she'd given the first dick, Padmé moved to the second and repeated herself. Soon both giant rods were soaked and ready to pop. She pounded both shafts in either hand, grinning eagerly at the engorged heads, ready to blast her with a gooey, messy treat.
Like a hose the dicks sprayed the pregnant woman with a deluge of white spunk, drenching her face and chest in the sticky spunk. Padmé held her mouth wide open as shower of semen bathed her.
"Oh, by the Spirits of the Brood Goddess, that was heavenly!" Dexter groaned. He sighed, feeling lightheaded and then stumbled away, returning to the kitchen. Padmé was left soaked in the fat alien's cum.
"Ah… Threepio?" she called out, holding out her arms as they dripped in the white goo.
Instead, Anakin appeared from the hallway to the bedroom. "What in Malachor happened to you?"
Padmé gulped, swallowing another helping of Dexter's junk. "Well… Dexter's cream spilled on me."
Anakin shook his head in dismay. "What a klutz. I'm sorry. I'll go get you a towel."
"Actually, I think I'll need a shower," Padmé said as she stood up. "Why don't you eat without me? But tell Dexter to come back later today… maybe he can feed me properly," she added with a grin.