Their love would always remain secret, something fragile and misunderstood. Something half-formed, misshapen and strangely sublime… not yet come to fruition. In the secret reaches of the night they met, slipping into the soft womb of moist darkness as if it were a lover's embrace. They were always more at home in the shadows, be it on Coruscant or fiery Tatooine.

The lingering scent of Watto's supple body intoxicated Yoda… the heady scent entering his mind and drawing out a primal urging, a lust that he had so long suppressed but now, finally, let himself succumb to. The silhouette of Watto's body, gracefully flapping in the breeze like a momentary thought drifting in and out of consciousness, roused Yoda from his lethargic stupor and he breathed in the cool night air and it filled his vacant lungs as he pulsed with life.

Watto fluttered over to Yoda's stumpy green form with grace, his bulbous abdomen bobbed up and down gently and stirred a fire deep inside Yoda. He was hungry to touch it, to explore the supple flesh, to knead it with his bony viridescent fingers. Yoda's spine creaked loudly as he stood up, the noise of age echoing throughout the room, vibrating off the four walls that held the lovers together, like the nurturing arms of a mother, yet thin like paper, and brittle.

Yoda tumbled forward into his lover's gnarled arms, soaking in the musty, cloying fragrance of his body and the gelatinous texture of his skin, His flesh was soft and pliant, deliciously greasy. In all his long years, a chiliad of wandering, Yoda had never felt more at rest, at home, than in repose with his secret soulmate. The embrace was chaste and pure, until the slow burning inferno of need consumed them like sarlacc digestive juices.

Their mouths met in a messy spit slick storm, Yoda's tongue meshing with Watto's proboscis in a heated lusty battle, a dance of passion. The broke apart, moaning like wounded rancours, vibrating with their primal need for closeness, for each other.

"Let us be one!" Watto gasped, staring deep into Yoda's crumpled, aged face.

Ah! With those simple words the pangs of passion burning low in Yoda's geriatric, chartreuse green loins exploded into a fiery ball; hard and viscous and all consuming like living magma. He caressed Watto's corpulent flesh with hands as wrinkly as old parchment, moaning lovingly as he came to the still flaccid hump of his lover's male organ.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to stimulate the bulging flesh, until it was turgid and dripping and ready to impale Yoda's tiny green form. They looked deep into each others eyes, knowing they were ready, steeling themselves for the intensity of the moment, the anticipation of penetration.

And then all of a sudden the tension erupted into a full fledged explosion of sexual wrestling, as the two tumbled around each other and slickly joined together into one ecstatic ball of exotic xeno-flesh. They undulated together eagerly, humping one each other with a deranged fevor as slick alien fluids lubricated the act and splashed all over the floor like tears of pure love. Yoda's minute form was all but crushed under Watto's luxuriously blubbery bulk. He could scarcely breathe for the intensity of the sensations, so he lay there eotically asphyxiated, seing stars and supernova behind his drooping, wrinkled eyelids.

It seemed to simultaneously take seconds and an eternity for the moment of climax to arrive. An endless daze of hurried, sweaty thrusting and grunting that resulted in a blinding deafening explosion of primal pleasure and gelatinous love-fluids. Yoda squealed out with his tiny, shrill age cracked voice, announcing his orgasm to the entire galaxy.

"COMING, I AM!" He shrieked. Somewhere in the distance, glass shattered from the intensity of his screaming.

Watto let out one more mighty heave, before bellowing like a dying creature and coating the both of them in a flood of slick blue-green fluid originating in the depths of Yoda's udder. He looked down at Yoda tenderly, and them smothered the Jedi Masters tiny face with a sopping wet kiss, the bristles on his chin scratching against Yoda's papery skin.

The collapsed together, laying next to each other staring up at the cloudy, spider-webbed ceiling. No words needed to be said as they succumbed to sleep, falling into the warm embrace of their secret love, washed away but its vast ocean.

And the rest is darkness…