Please, Speak Freely…

• Holidays can bring a lot of emotion, sometimes sadness. You’d be lost in your thoughts, perhaps reliving memories that aren’t all great, when you’d hear a knock at your door. It would be Boba, of course, carrying some grocery bags with that fond smile and dark eyes that see so much so quickly.

“Thought you could use some company, little one.” He’d regard you with a mix of concern and understanding, never prying for more information then you were ready to share.

Boba doesn’t simply use words to show love - he is a man of action. You’d witness his love in the food he prepares, the hot chocolate he brought over for you both to share, and his strong arms wrapped around you.

• He’d be cordial at family gatherings, respecting you enough to not overcrowd you, but 100% would be comfortable wrapping an arm around your shoulders or placing a hand on your thigh under the table when he hears your voice shake. No one else would notice, but he sure would.

• His jaw would clench at your grandmother’s comment about your weight, brows lowering just enough - the first darkening clouds of a gathering storm. You’d pull him aside and tell him it was okay, of course, that she didn’t mean harm, but he’d merely nod, keeping the thunder restrained…for now.

“But it hurt you.” His gaze would lock on you as he lifts those thick fingers to caress your jaw. “Don’t minimize your pain.”

But in your family, you’ve always had to. And you’re learning, learning that it doesn’t have to be that way now…with yourself, with him.

• Your parents wouldn’t know how to handle Boba, given that he’s not the soft-spined sort. Their version of you is years outdated - choosing to remain blind to your growth that would challenge them to break out of safety nets that choke them. It hurts, despite your best efforts, to know they love only the version of you they are comfortable with. But Boba? He loves every facet of you, every piece. He sees your growth and the pain it took for you to get there.

• And when they make some petty, passive aggressive comment about your life, he’d come to your defense in such a calm, yet pointed way, pulling you closer against him in a subtle display of protectiveness even as you detect that thunder growling in his tone. Your parents don’t have a clue how close they are to danger, but they won’t - he would exercise restraint…for now.

“It’s been a year since our fallen Jedi crisis, Fennec. And a prosperous one,” the Daimyo rumbled. “Surely, it won’t fall apart if we’re away for one week.”

You’d woken early this morning and surprised him with breakfast in bed: his favorite tea and a sugar twisty that you’d waved around his face and chest, dusting sugar all over him. It’s a sin to let sugar go to waste, you’d said, kissing sugar from his lips. How could we possible atone?

Said atonement had put him in a rare good mood and he was determined to hold on to it. Fennec’s fussing about business while walking to the hangar was not helpful in that regard.  

“As long as things have been going as smoothly as they’ve been, it shouldn’t be a problem, Boss. All I’m saying it keep the line open. Just in case.”

“Of course. I’m not a beginner.” He turned and met her eyes. Cautious trust lived there. “Thank you, Fennec.”

Fennec held his eye as her hand went to her abdomen and the mechanicals that kept her alive. 

“Our deal.”

Yes, Fennec. Our deal.”

*

By the time Boba had boarded Slave 1 you’d triple checked the scantly packed bags and made sure the little gift was safely tucked away. You’d also bought a packable foam mattress to put on the floor of the tiny sleep area. Stars! You couldn’t wait to awkwardly meet one another, knees knocking against the angles of the barely living space on his ship. 

There would be time for that though. There was a whole week!

You sat in the cockpit, leaning forward and eager to see stretching blue streaks of light. Boba had put on his helmet and looked out to the stars. Your gaze went to the t-shaped visor and the stars reflected in it. You reached out, fingers tracing along the lines of the helmet, wishing to touch his true face. 

“We don’t have to go to Cloud City, Boba. I’m happy to go anywhere.” You ran your hand along the edge of the helmet and took it off, setting it on your lap. “What would you like to show me?”

Boba stared at the console for a long while, jaw clenched, before his head snapped over to meet your eyes. Soft and sweet, but he knew they were razor sharp beneath. You’d fearlessly come to his aid in dire circumstances twice now. Yet he’d continued to keep a distance, shield you from who he had been and the things that he’d done. As always, Jango Fett’s words echoed and Boba turned them over in his mind.

A bounty hunter is free of attachments. Say no more than necessary. This code keeps us alive, his father had said. I’m training you to be better than me.

Better.

Perhaps it was time to be true to you. To trust that you would want to stay. 

“I’d like to show you where I was born, cyar'ika.” He brought your palm to his lips. “Kamino.”

-----

This episode's title is courtesy of Echo and the Bunnymen:

First, you had become his favourite waitress. Remembering his coffee order, making sure to give him the freshest blueberry bagel, and keeping him entertained with little day-to-day anecdotes. Once you found out he worked as a Private Investigator downtown, he found out you were working on a book. “A crime novel,” you revealed on late Thursday night, “But I’m afraid my knowledge of all things crime work begins and ends with 15 seasons of Criminal Minds.”

That was how you had become his assistant.

And now you had become the woman that haunted him day and night. In all his waking (and sleeping) moments, you were there, at the back (or forefront) of his every thought. If you were safe. If you were happy. If you had gotten that book you had mentioned during one of his many coffee refill breaks. If you wanted a new office chair because the one he had in his office was probably even older than he was. If you knew how much you deserved when all you talked bout was the

If you had lost your mind asking him for a practice date when your crush finally asked you out.

(“Please?” you had asked him when morning when you brought a list of the people who had left a voicemail for him to call back, “I – I never really went on a proper date and I don’t want Dreks to think I’m some … some inexperienced nobody from the country who has no idea how city life works.”

Boba had wanted to reply that there was nothing wrong with being inexperienced. That there was nothing wrong with you. And that maybe Dreks was not the person you should go on a date with if you thought that he would be repelled by your lack of experience.

But all he could say was “Sure thing, princess.”)

The date went well – really well, actually – and he cursed himself for not having asked you out before Dreks. And then he cursed himself because he had no business asking out a woman so much younger than himself. You had your entire life yet to live, whereas he was already jaded by the dark realities of life. The only thing he would achieve was corrupting your happiness and innocence until you were just as cynical as him.

His moral dilemma had him missing the entire way back to your apartment. He knew you could not have earned a lot as a waitress, supported by the fact that you were at the diner basically 24/7, but he had made sure that your pay as his assistant was a significant step up. Significantly enough to afford you some safer housing.

Instead, you still led him up the stairs through a giant apartment block that smelled of cigarettes and was littered with more than one used needle. It felt wrong, seeing you in your sunflower-printed dress, your yellow purse and bright smile, walking through the cement-cracked hallway.

“This is me,” you announced quietly, “Thank you for the drive.”

“Anytime, princess,” he murmured, “I hope this eased some of your worries for tomorrow. You will have a great time.”

“It did,” you confirmed, your hand still on the doorknob, your back against the door. If this were a real date, he would allow himself to let his eyes roam over your figure. Let you know how much he wanted you. He would take a step closer, crowding you against the wall and –

“So … will there be a good night kiss?” you joked, sounding all breathless, and he smirked. Maybe you weren’t as unaffected as he thought.

“You do whatever you’re comfortable with, Princess,” he murmured, watching with his hands in his pockets as you stepped closer to him.

You looked up through your lashes, “What if I want more than that?”

You were so close he could smell your perfume, and he closed his eyes, taking this moment in. One hand snuck out of his pocket and landed on your waist. “We haven’t even kissed and you’re already asking for more?” his nose bumped against yours. “Greedy girl.”

“It’s more of a favour,” you murmured against his lips, “A really big one.”

“Another one?” he teased, planting his mouth on yours. The way you melted in his arms would be imprinted on him forever, of that he was sure. Stars, he could not remember the last time he had enjoyed kissing someone as much as he enjoyed kissing you.

“I want to suck your cock,” you gasped between kisses.

“Say that again,” he growled against your neck, his blood pumping south, “Say it again, princess, or else I think I’m hallucinating.”

“Teach me how to suck a cock, Boba,” you repeated, head tilted back so he could suck a bruise into your collarbone, your voice almost a whimper, “Please.”

*

Moving to a new place was scary. Especially when this new place was everything your parents had never wanted for you. Living in the city was expensive, they said. What would you do with your English Lit major except for waitressing tables, they asked. The suburbs were safe and comfortable, they implored you.

But as your boss was sitting on the small couch in your dingy studio apartment and you were kneeling before him, you had never been more convinced that moving to the city had been the right step forward in your life.

“Are you really sure you want to do this?” he asked you, voice deep and gruff and so very erotic, you had to clench your thighs.

“Yes,” you nodded, “Yes, I – I want to try it, please.”

To be honest, this plan was more of a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. It was true, you had wanted to try oral sex. You knew you were inexperienced and Dreks had made some allusions via text that had intrigued, but also terrified, you. You weren’t opposed to the idea of getting intimate with him if the mood was right and he was a nice man. You just wanted to try it first with someone you trusted.

And after your trial date with your boss, who looked way too handsome to admit, saying goodbye to him made you realise you wanted to try it with him. There was no one you trusted more than this grumpy old man whose coffee order you knew by heart, who left you books on your desk because “The depiction of the PD here is quite good, but ignore the IT plotline, that’s humbug.”

Boba Fett was a good man. He was also an attractive one.

You watched completely enraptured as his hands loosened the belt on his slacks, your breath hitching as one hand pulled down the zipper and revealed the tent in his boxers.

“Oh,” you breathed, and Boba chuckled, his large hand wrapping around the bulge.

“No time to be intimidated,” he teased you. And he was right. You didn’t have time for this because the more time you spent worrying about how you could best please him, the less time you had to actually touch him.

You really wanted to touch him.

Carefully, you wrapped your hand around him. He was thick, too thick for your finger to meet around him, and your jaw already hurt at the idea of taking him in your mouth. Your pussy, however, got even wetter.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Boba rumbled, “Take your time.”

You looked up at him. The best way to describe him was lounging. This older man was lounging on your couch, legs spread to make space for you, completely relaxed into the cushion as he looked down at you, completely in charge of everything.

Your hand moved in a few experimental strokes, trying to get used to the feel of him, the size of him. Blowjobs weren’t a new concept to you, you knew what it involved. But there was just so much of him, you felt overwhelmed.

“You can use your tongue,” Boba encouraged you, “Or your mouth.”

Nodding, you darted out your tongue and licked over the tip. The taste was a bit on the salty side, but altogether not unpleasant. So, you allowed yourself another lick of your tongue, this time up the entire shaft. The broken noise from his throat made you relish the fact that you did something right.

You opened your mouth wide and took him in. It was a struggle at first, the mushroom head feeling bigger than you had expected and you had to pull back. The frustration must have shown on your face because Boba’s warm hand landed on your cheek.

“I meant it,” he assured you as you looked up at him, “Take your time.”

Returning his smile with one of your own, you took a deep breath. You weren’t used to being in the spotlight, and you certainly didn’t like it when people paid you too much attention. But something about being his centre of attention made you feel all warm and fuzzy. Failing before him didn’t feel like failure; it felt like showing him how much you wanted him.

Another deep breath had you trying to relax your jaw as much as possible. This time you worked your lips past his tips and sucked around him. He felt warm and smooth in your mouth, your tongue brushing along the underside, and you could feel a spurt of something hit your tongue.

“Fuck, princess, your mouth feels amazing,” he cursed, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your head.

He took up a lot of space and you did your best to give it to him. To relax your jaw, to somehow continue breathing, to get used to the size of him. It felt like there was no more space in your mouth, but you could see how much there was left to take. You barely had the tip.

“Breathe through your nose,” Boba murmured, staying completely still. You didn’t move forward, but you also didn’t move back. Something about having him in your mouth calmed you, gave you a goal to work towards, and distracted you from your own anxiety.

You swallowed, swirling your tongue around the tip. Another drop of precoma landed on your tongue and you swallowed again. Breathing through your nose made things much easier and you could feel your shoulder relax. You hadn’t even noticed how tense you were.

Boba’s breathing grew heavy, but he didn’t move a muscle either, completely frozen above you. You looked up from his thick thighs to find a pinched look on his face.

Your brows furrowed instantly, the tension back in your shoulders. Were you doing something wrong?

He must’ve felt you looking because he met your gaze, his eyes burning hot. “You’re doing so good,” he assured you, “Look at you, taking all that cock in your mouth. You’re a natural for me, aren’t you, hm?”

You moaned around him, desire pushing your head forward until he hit the back of your throat and you gagged. You spluttered around him, struggling for air when he pulled you back, his cock slipping out of your mouth. Drool trailed down your chin to your cleavage, and you whined at the loss.

“We don’t want you to choke now, do we?”

You didn’t say anything, too focused on the ache between your thighs that grew more prominent the longer he was away from you.

“Oh,” he grinned, “Do we?”

“I – I kind of like it,” you admitted, shifting on your knees. You hadn’t expected it to turn you on as much as it did but there was something about Boba Fett spreading his legs even more, nodding to his cock with an unforgiving look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. “Then get to it, little one,” he encouraged you, his big hand cupping your cheek.

Taking him in your mouth again was easier this time, the sensation no longer unfamiliar. Once you got around his tip again, you trusted yourself to slowly bob up and down, taking him a little deeper each time. You managed it better and better, feeling him heavy on your tongue, and the noises that left you made you feel filthy and sexy all at once.

“Can you take me deeper?” the older man asked over the wet noises, his hand moving to the front of your throat, “I want to feel you here.”

Your eyes widened in shock but you did your best to swallow around him, the rumble in his chest the best kind of reward. He kept your eye contact, his thumb brushing just where your jaw met your throat. “Remember to breathe through your nose,” he instructed you gently, his voice rough, “Good girl. There we go.”

It felt strange, having him bump into the back of your throat. But the knowledge that he was so deep, the girth making your jaw and throat ache, inevitably made you think about all the other body parts he could make ache. His hand squeezed ever so gently, squeezing himself inside you, and you gasped, your walls clenching around nothing. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if you were dripping onto your carpet.

“You’re perfect,” he praised you, “You should see yourself, princess, no one ever looked prettier drooling on my cock than you do just now.”

You did your best to bob your head up and down, licking and sucking and slurping. His praise turned you on and encouraged you equally, sending you into the mindless happy task of gagging on an almost-too-big cock.

But you got tired, too, and you noticed the one glass of wine you had with dinner. Boba did not interfere as you slowed down; he just leaned back against the cushions, his hand cupping your cheek while he looked at you like you had been made just for him. And that made you even wetter.

Lifting his shaft with both hands, you trailed kissed down to his balls, swirling your tongue around them before taking him in your mouth again. You had never expected to enjoy it this much, giving someone (him) a blowjob. But there was something about making sure that he received the pleasure he deserved that had your heart racing and your pussy wet.

You had gotten to know him as a mysterious, grumpy diner patron, then as a less mysterious, grumpy but incredibly fair and knowledgeable boss. You knew how hard he worked every day. He deserved to relax. And if you could do that for him? You wanted to do it.

Once you got in a comfortable rhythm, you couldn’t resist the urge to rest your cheek against his thigh. He was warm under you and you felt so content, sucking in him as you gazed up at a man you had no business sucking off. Too old, too handsome, too much your boss. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care when you saw how the harsh lines on his face had disappeared, how happy and pleased he looked with you between his legs.

He chuckled, “There it is. There is that cockdrunk look I was aiming for. You enjoying yourself, sweetheart?”

You swallowed around him in agreement and you could feel him twitch in your mouth. It soon became necessary to remind yourself that this was just an experiment. It was not an option to kneel like this for him in the office every day. You had no idea why that thought disappointed you.

“I’m coming, sweetheart,” he warned you, sounding strained, “If you’re not ready to swallow, now would be the time.”

You pulled off him just in time, his come erupting over your face and you closed your eyes. His hand closed around yours, stroking himself as more and more wetness landed on your face. In just a few moments, you were covered in drool and his come and nothing had ever felt more exhilarating.

“That was the best blowjob I ever had,” Boba announced quietly, leaning forward to brush his thumb over your eyes, feeding you his come back, “You have nothing to worry about with that date of yours.”

Somehow, that was even more important to hear than when Dreks had asked you out on a date.

*

Boba had to take himself in hand more times in the last 48 hours than in the last few years, thinking of your beautiful mouth and the way you had been so eager to please him. He wasn’t proud of himself for that, but who could blame him? That had been the best blowjob in his life and on top of all that you were just beautiful inside and out. He was thinking of you constantly anyway; now his dirty daydreams just felt a bit more real.

For a Monday morning, he felt incredibly relaxed, even coming in earlier than usual to work on that report for his client. He usually came in late each morning, owing to late-night stakeouts and long nights at the diner. But ever since you had started working for him, coming in bright and early around 7 am, he found his morning routine shifting closer and closer to sunrise.

Which was why he missed seeing you at your desk when he opened up the shop at 8 am, no sign of you at all. He set down the files he had taken with him for the weekend on his desk and took it upon himself to fight with the coffee machine.

Stars knew how you managed to operate the thing.

Braced with a steaming mug of coffee and the resolution not to think about you or why you could possibly be late, he sat down at his desk and got to writing down his report. It was a classic infidelity case which would most likely result in divorce. He had had so many of them, there was nothing new or exciting about it, but they were his bread and butter, and so he made sure to only ever put his best work out.

He caught himself looking out the window every few minutes. When your figure appeared in the doorway at exactly 09:03 am, he convinced himself that his body had only been so tense because he had slept wrong. The way he relaxed into his chair and was able to breathe deeply was not because he had been worried about your well-being. Not at all.

And it also wasn’t worrying that you did not say anything at all when you entered the office, dumping your things on your desk without the usual smile.

Boba frowned, his fingers leaving the keyboard. “Good morning,” he called through the open door of his office.

You did not say anything back. It was cute, almost, seeing you agitated, and he raised his eyebrow in amusement. Maybe the date did not go well. And why did that make him so happy?

You worked in silence for a few hours, he poring over the reports and pictures he had taken on his stakeout last night, hoping to hear back from one of his contacts, while he heard you make calls and manage his appointments unless you were nose deep in a new book.

Until he could not take it anymore.

“Was it that bad?” he called through the open door, seeing you straighten up in your seat, “I thought I taught you well.”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, grinning smugly when he saw you squirm. And then you stood up, making your way to him and any focus on his work was lost. This was going to be interesting.

“It’s not that he had any complaints,” you admitted, crossing your arms over your chest as you leant against the doorway, “On the contrary, actually …”

He sat up, leaning his elbows onto his desk, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” you paused, clearly unsure if you should continue. Thoughts of horrible things that could have happened filled his mind. Clearly, the date had not gone well and what were the chances that Dreks was not only an asshole but a predatory asshole as well?

Boba knew enough people in the PD to track him down if necessary and make him regret the way he had treated you. He had never seen you avert your eyes, and he did not like it now. Were you ashamed? Of what?

“Well,” you started again, clearly flustered, “I’m the one who has the complaints.”

Now that was a surprise.

“How so?” he heard himself asking, leaning back in his chair, “I thought Dreks was the kind of man dreams were made of.”

You chuckled drily, your hand trailing over a few files on his sideboard. The bow sitting at your waist enticed him, and he swallowed. It was not only the bow, but the whole of your dark green wrap dress made him think the dirtiest things. Namely, how easy it would be to untie it from you.

“He, uh, he didn’t return the favour,” you mumbled before eagerly assuring him, “I did everything you taught me and he … I mean, he came so quickly and then he just showed me the door.”

Fuck the PD, he’d hunt that fucker down himself.

“He what?” Boba growled, leaning forward on his knees. Only at the back of his mind did he register the way your eyes lingered on his thighs, on his crotch, but for a moment, he was too offended on your behalf to think of something smug to say.

“I’m sorry for whining,” you said shyly, making your way around his desk until you were standing before him, “It’s just frustrating and unfair and,” you exhaled sharply, “Sorry, it’s just –“

He stood up, your eyes following him, and his lips quirked up when he saw you lick your lips. The dress was soft under his fingers as he gently gripped your hip, “No need to apologise, princess. You are more than right to complain.”

His nose brushed against yours, and your eyes fluttered, the proximity too much. “I just want to know what it feels like,” you breathed against him, your lips brushing his, “Sir, please …”

Oh, you knew what you were doing. He realized that with a smirk, the cock twitching in his pants finally not a nuisance but something for you to grind on. And grind on, you did.

Your lips were soft and pliant as you moved against him, your fingers gripping his white dress shirt tight as you tried to get him closer, the slit of your wrap dress not covering your leg anymore.

“C’mere,” he rumbled, tipping his fingers under your chin. He loved the way your breath hitched and your eyes fluttered when he did that. And what he loved even more was that now you were the one to press your lips against his, all pliant and needy and oh so lovely.

“Lock the door,” he rumbled, “It’s my lunch break and I feel like getting something to eat.”

*

Your hand trembled in anticipation as you turned the lock.

“Good girl,” Boba said behind you, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing pulse. You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you told him about your failed date with Dreks. It wasn’t this. But you would also be lying if you said you were disappointed by this outcome.

Deep down, maybe this was exactly what you hoped for.

“Now come here,” he instructed you gently, “Sit on my desk.”

Your eyes flew to the desk. His files were all gone and you smiled when you saw them on the sideboard behind him. All stacked up neatly. The free space allowed you to sit comfortably, your feet dangling above the floor as you looked up at him.

When Boba had left after your practice date, it had occurred to you that you had only kissed once. And that you'd very much like to kiss him again. Boba seemed to think the same with the way his hands caged you in next to your hips, his face so close to yours, you could spot the fleck of green in his brown iris.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he announced calmly, “And when I am done kissing you, I am going to open this beautiful dress of yours, pull your panties down and eat you out like you deserve. Okay?”

“Please,” you breathed against him, swallowing hard, “Sir, I – yes.”

Your inability to form coherent sentences made him chuckle, the little condescension doing something to your insides. Something good. You couldn’t understand how he seemed so calm, so in control, when you were this close to losing it. Could you go insane from desire? Was that a thing?

It certainly hadn’t been when you were out with Dreks, but here in your boss’s office, it seemed to be the thing.

Kissing Boba was giving up control in the best way. You could wrap your arms around him, move your lips against and know that he still was the one in charge. He was the one who moved you this and that way to his heart’s desire, his teeth nipping on your bottom lip, his tongue clashing with yours. It all served to stir the fire inside you.

You could not get enough of kissing him but it also wasn’t enough. You needed, wanted, more.

The older man planted hot kisses down your neck and you used the distraction to get your hands on his shirt, fighting with the buttons until you got the first few undone. Boba Fett was a large man. Not fat, per se, but big. Your mother would scrunch her nose and call him “solid” with that look in her eyes that told you she didn’t like it.

But you did.

The first glimpse of his barrel chest had your mind all scrambled as you took him in. Was that a tattoo?

He kissed you again, slower this time and you opened your mouth for him with no complaint.

“Lift your hips for me – there we go. Good girl.”

Your arms were trembling as you carried your own weight, excitement and desire making you feel weak. His rough fingers hooked into the side of your panties and could not pull them down fast enough for your taste. The cold air on your body made you shiver but you could also feel his warmth from how close he was.

You watched as he sat down on his chair, scooting forward until he was sitting right in front of you. His eyes zeroed in on you.

You shifted, feeling nervous at how much he got to see of you. This was the first time anyone had ever seen all of you (except that annual doctor’s visit, but this certainly wasn’t comparable) and you didn’t know how to proceed. Were you supposed to say something? Do something?

But then his warm hand landed on your belly, low enough that his thumb could rub gentle circles over your clit, and all your worries were forgotten.

“Oh stars,” you gasped, back arching at the electric touch.

“Lean back for me, let me enjoy my lunch, little one,” Boba rumbled, his thumb dragging through your wetness.

With a heaving chest, you did as he asked. The wood was cold beneath your hot body and you felt both relieved and terrified that you could not see what was happening. You didn’t have to meet Boba’s intense gaze; that was good, but as you stared at the ceiling, you also couldn’t anticipate what happened next.

You flinched when his hands landed on your thighs but you tried to relax in the same breath. His warm hands gently stroked over your inner thighs, slowly spreading you open until his fingers were on your folds. There was no way he could not see how wet he had made you and you took another deep breath, allowing yourself to enjoy his gentle touches.

“Good girl,” his deep voice praised you, causing your walls to flutter.

“Oh, you like when I call you that,” he murmured, his breath now brushing over your sensitive folds, “I’ll remember that.”

And then his mouth was on you.

Every time you thought about what oral sex would be like, you understood that oral sex would feel different from fingering or even penetrative sex. It made sense. Different body parts were involved, your friends all talked about how much they enjoyed it (some more than fingering, too), and it all seemed fine and dandy. Something you were prepared for.

But nothing prepared you for the sensation of your boss’s tongue travelling along your slit. Nothing prepared you for the feel of him circling your clit or the sensation that he really was eating you out, a man desperate for your wetness. And certainly nothing prepared you for what it would feel like when he sucked on your clit.

Your back arched, an electric current travelling from the top of your head right down to your toes as your body thrummed with pleasure. Everything seemed so much more sensitive now but Boba did not let up. His fingers spread you open as he found the spots that made you gasp and he kept going at them until you felt like you could hardly breathe.

Pleasure was clouding your mind, and all you could think about was the man between your thighs making you feel things you hadn’t thought possible.

“Daddy!”

Boba’s ministrations paused and your eyebrows pulled together, your hips twitching as you wondered why the hell he had suddenly stopped. And then what had left your mouth finally caught up to your brain.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

“What did you call me?”

Was it possible to die from embarrassment? Because you were pretty sure you were about to. The humiliation brought tears to your eyes and yet your body still dint listen to you. “Please,” you murmured, trying to close your legs, “This is so embarrassing. Let’s just – let’s forget about it.”

“There is nothing embarrassing about my assistant being a bit kinky,” he rumbled against you, his tongue licking over your slit, making you tremble “And I will certainly not forget about it.”

“Now tell me,” he stood up in all his glory, looking down at you like he was ready to conquer you, “What did you call me?”

“Daddy,” you whispered, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. The heat in his eyes made you squirm and for the first time, you realised what kind of predicament you were really in. You were lying on your boss’s desk, your dress undone, your panties hanging from your ankle. You lay completely bare for a man old enough to be your father and who you had just called daddy.

You could’ve cried from shame if it wasn’t for how hot he looked.

Boba hummed, gripping the bulge in his slacks, looking so unapologetically turned on as he loosened his belt and in a matter of second was stroking his hard cock right in front of you. Your mouth watered; you really wanted to have him in your mouth again.

You never understood the expression of someone eating you out “like a man starved”. But Boba showed it to you. He was messy as he devoured you, his tongue licking over all the spots that made you see stars and his mouth sucking on your clit as his hand held your thighs open. You could hear where he was stroking himself and the thought that he enjoyed eating you out as much as you enjoyed pleasuring him had you right on the edge.

“Daddy, please, I need to come.”

“Oh my, good girl,” he praised you, meeting your eyes from where he was between your legs, “Asking for what she wants daddy to give her.”

It took only a few more licks and sucks and you were right there, gasping out your release. Boba stood up, his body plastered against yours as he looked at you. You could feel his hand moving between your bodies, stroking his cock right against you and all you could say was “Please, daddy” over and over again.

You were losing your mind, there was no other way to explain it.

His mushroom tip was right against your slick folds, brushing over your clit as he stroked himself. The sensations prolonged your orgasm and encouraged his, you knew. He was about to come against you. Boba Fett was about to come right against your bare pussy and that somehow became the hottest thing you ever experienced.

“This is just what you needed, isn’t it?” he groaned into your ear, “An old man showing you how it’s done. How good it can feel.”

“Yes,” you gasped, “Boba, please, I – I need it, daddy.”

Your hips twitched against him, your hand gripping the edge of the desk and with a moan, you could feel his come pooling against you. Everything felt even more slippery and wet and you felt so very desired.

Your chest heaved as you laid on his desk, staring at the popcorn ceiling as if that would help you find out whether you were dreaming or not.

“Fuck that was hot,” Boba said, finally, and you couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up in your chest.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you gasped out, letting him help you sit up. The mess between your legs squelched and you grimaced.

His gaze was soft as he looked you over, as if anything of what you just did could’ve harmed you. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah, just … just a bit messy.”

Both of you looked down. Your legs were still spread around his hips, offering the direct view of his come on your pussy. That really was the hottest thing and your ears burned at the thought that maybe you should take a picture of it. Just to prove to yourself it really happened.

“I should’ve asked,” he said, his fingers brushing the inside of your thighs and although you had just come, you could feel the pleasure gathering in your core again.

“I don’t mind,” you replied instantly, cheeks burning, “I … I liked it.”