Under the Table

Stifling a groan of pleasure with your hand, you buck your hips and shoot rope after rope of jizz while Ranna strokes you. You'd swear you heard an audible 'thunk' as your jizz sprayed into the table bottom, and Rana's strokes feel heavenly as she continues to pump your handle. Finally, the tide subsides, and Ranna releases your member.

Ranna frowns as she glances beneath the table; her dress cought a rope or two of jizz, marking her obscenely, and her hand is covered in pearly white streaks. Sadly, she wipes her cum-streaked hands on a bar napkin. You'd hoped she might give it a taste, but alas. She must not be in the mood. Wonder why.

"I expect our business is concluded?"

"For now. I'll contact you if anything comes up, or I need more information from you.

The twi'lek stands and walks with as much dignity as she can muster out of the bar, and you tuck your softening manhood back into your pants.

From the bar, Easu scowls a little harder than normal at you, and hands the server droid a bar towel. Angry? Probably. You just hope he washes those towels more frequently than it appears. Hopefully you haven't squandered too much good will. Oh well. You have a runaway sister to find.