Clod's chocoboco hair tickled Tifa's knees as he licked her bellybutton.
((wait, anatomically, that doesn't work.))
Her knees were attached to her ribcage.
She clutched him as he thrust deeper into her, and the earth as well as their cheap motel bed was shaken with the depth of their passion for each other's hott bodies and sexy selves.
Also they were in love.
"Oh cloud," she moaned, "Oh oh oh cloud."
"Oh Tifa," he said, pronouncing it incorrectly. But that was to be expected as he choked on her turgid nipple.
Suddenly the door to their room banged open, just proving exactly how cheap the motel was. Yuffie stood silhouetted in the late afternoon light.
"Come quick, you guys!" she shouted, her young girlish hips swaying as she stood on her lusciously thin legs.
((Well what else would she stand on?))
"Oh wow," she said, "You're doing something. Shall I join you?" her lips were moist with desire.
I didn't say which lips.
"No," cried Cloud, clutching Tifa like a life preserver, "We'll be right there."
"Mmfff," agreed Tifa. Cloud's fingers were in her nose.
They did not bother to put on anything but the thin bathrobes that they had packed for their romantic weekend in Costa Del Sol. They left the door open as they rushed out. Cloud grabbed his Sheetmetal just in case, for he was the manliest of men. Smoothing his wayward blondie blonde hair, he dashed out into the motel parking lot.
Tifa was busily putting on her earrings, in case it was someone she wanted to impress. But her cute little feet got burned by the hot pavement, and she cried out, "ow!" and returned to the room.
Yuffie was nowhere in sight. In fact she was getting a cold cok from the vending machine. Cloud found himself alone, robed and sworded, in a parking lot with a huge black Mustang with its bling grill facing him.
"Oh no," thought Cloud, "it cannot be."
"It cannot be my landlord, come all this way to find me."
Off course, it was not his landlord.
It was the great and beautiful SEPHIROTH in the Mustang he borrowed from Rude.
Because driving his own car in a beachtown would just be stupid.
There were a lot of unruly black people and mexicans and crazy polish greeks.
Anyway, it had been a long, hard... drive... and he was very pised, because the A/C in the Mustang was all shot to shit.
As he stepped out of the car, having removed his shirt on the way, the sweat glistened on his many muscles and he looked really hott and he had flowing hair and etc.
"Oh boy," said Cloud lamely, "This might turn out to be the suck."
"For I am currently AWOL and he, the hott and rumored to be gay General, surely knows about it."
"I can hear you thinking narratively to the audience," said Sephiroth in an extremely well-acted japanese voice, "and I don't like what I'm hearing."
Cloud turned tail and ran like a true hero, but he found that the door to his hotel room was closed and the lock was broken. He could not open the door.
"This will be a faceoff," called Sephiroth from across the parking lot, who was too hot and pised to chase anyone, "So you'd better get your deserting hat over here and fight me to the death."
"I wasn't challenging you to a fight to the death, I was just saying, you'll need a tray!" said Cloud, trying to distract the General with a really bad crossover.
It only served to pise off the General even more, who was cranky because there was sweaty hair in his eyes and he didn't have a hair tie thingie anywhere on him.
"I will cut your bits off, unravel them, and use it to tie back my hair in this Ifrit-forsaken heat!" said Sephiroth. "Then you're going to make me a sandwich, you emasculated wench!"
"I really believe he could, and would, do such nasty things," thought Cloud, and gripped his Sheetmetal hard.
He slowly approached Sephiroth, his robe flapping in the wind.
He wished he at least had some paper slippers, but alas, he forgot those too.
As he got within sword's reach of the General, clad only in short face-stomping boots and sporty shorts, he lashed out with the Sheetmetal, knocking a fair scratch in the Mustang. The General cracked his wrist-bones and moved like the wind, grabbing Clod around the waist and flipping him onto the Mustang's hood.
Because the Mustang was black, it was summer in Costa Del Sol, and it had been driven many hours, Clod experienced an uncomfortable burning sensation in his entire skin area.
"AAIIIIIEEEERRGGGHH!" he expressed.
Sephiroth grabbed Clod's face in one hand and shoved it onto the sizzling hot paint job, and the AIIIIEERRGH became more of a WAAAAAHHHHHH as tears leaked out his baby blue eyes.
The Sheetmetal fell from his hand and clanged uselessly on the pavement. Cloud's beautiful skyblue eyes were watering too much to see much of anything, but he could feel the General behind him as he held Cloud down with his own weight.
"Waaaaahhhh," continued Cloud, now extremely sad that he was wearing only a robe, his toight little bum exposed to the deepening night. With the things he'd heard about the General of the Shinra army, this is not where he wanted to be.
"I can now add treason to desertion," said Sephiroth's voice very close to his ear, which was very close to his lovely peacock-blue eyes. "I wonder how much prison time you'll get? Maybe just... execution? They're not being very lenient toward criminals these days."
"I hate you," Cloud tried to say, but his face was still smashed into the very hot black paint and it came out mostly as "warrrrgh mehhhgrum".
Sephiroth's long elegant sword-adept fingers clenched Cloud's skull and the other set of those elegant sword-adept fingers were digging into his ribcage. There was a rushing noise in his ears and he was afraid he was going to faint. He told himself he was a very brave hero and he was just hearing the sound of his own limit break.
Without any further warning
((because that's how all the action starts,))
Cloud realized too late that Sephiroth had a lot of aggression and frustration today, and he was going to take it out on the nearest bitch. He had a small literary epiphany as he came to understand that he was playing that role this evening.
He shrieked, startling a flock of birds that were roosting on the motel roof, as he was torn in half by the General's manifestation of aggression and frustration.
A hand smacked Cloud in the back of the chocoboco-haired head and Sephiroth's voice said, "Shut the hell up!"
Cloud gave himself over to tooth-gritting silence as the hand on his head tightened and the other moved to his lower back, smashing his organs into the side of the car.
"Oh no," he thought, "I'm desecrating a Mustang. Yuffie will never let me live this down. She's always wanted a Mustang, and now this just might ruin it for her."
"Also my intestines are getting crushed."
"Also this is a really incredibly uncomfortable sensation..." he couldn't even think properly as he was slammed into and some reference to a "tight hole", because that's a popular phrase.
Sephiroth, meanwhile, was curled over Cloud's back, reaming driving pounding thrusting coring? Please choose whichever descriptive verb you like. Cloud found himself drooling involuntarily on the car hood.
His hands scrabbled against the car side, searching for a grip on the slick paint but finding none.
The hand on the back of Cloud's head released mercifully for a second, and he was about to formulate a prayer in his mind as he lifted his head, but the hand came right back down to slap him across the face and he bit his tongue very painfully.
Also he was a bit horrified to realize he was just a tiny, approximately 11 hard.
He pressed into the car on purpose, partially to escape from the burning, rending WEAPON-sized coke in his hat, and partially to hide his bits from the gaze of the all-seeing General.
Who was, at present, gripping Clod's shoulderblades with elegant, sword-adept hands that had uncommonly long fingernails. These were really starting to hurt. In fact, they were prickling him so badly he was almost able to ignore the incessant thrusting that was hurting his hipbones.
The sun was setting beautifully in the west, bathing the sky with bloody radiance, and the sweet breeze off the sea played across his tear and drool-stained face.
Sephiroth was now bent so low over him that he could feel hot breath across the back of his neck, and the General hissed in his ear, "I didn't know you liked it this way, Soldier."
Cloud's stomach dropped as he flushed and shamefully tried to press closer to the car; an impossible quest.
Sephiroth's hand, no longer digging into his flesh but now brushing against him so gently it gave him goosebumps, ran down the side of his hip and onto his leg.
He breathed deeply as the hand brushed against his lower back, tickling him through the robe, and though he knew it was involuntary he was still ashamed of his reaction.
A low chuckle sounded in his ear and your favorite color is... blue?
The General couldn't have been getting tired, for he was a great military-trained expert stamina kung-fu world champion, but he paused for just a second and pressed his hands against Cloud's back. The sudden stillness made his entire body buzz and throb, especially where Sephiroth was still buried to the hilt in Cloud's abused flesh.
There was a shiver and a rush of heat as the General shot his load, busted a nut or came orgasmically. Cloud cried out, knowing he had reached the lowest point of his life. "It can't get any worse," he thought loudly, "this is the lowest of the low. Tifa will never take me with cum in my hat. I still have to make it back to the room with it dripping down my leg. I'm shameful. I'm disgusting."
"Don't be too self-abusive," Sephiroth panted in his ear, patting him on his scratched back soothingly, "You could be lying under Hojo right now."
Cloud's shiny blue eyes bugged out of his head and tears welled up in them.
Sephiroth managed, by the grace of his inhuman ancestry and godlike powers, to tuck himself away and actually look MORE attractive for the experience, instead of sweaty and nasty with that particular after-sex aura. Cloud hugged the front of the Mustang, not taking solace from the General's words. "You'll have to get the hell off my car," Sephiroth said, leaning against it. "It belongs to Rude. You've already scratched and dribbled on it, so you'd better fuck off while you still can."
"I can't," Cloud mumbled, his tongue thick in his mouth. Sephiroth approached him, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and backhanded him. If he weren't still holding him, he would have collapsed onto the cement. As it were, once his sparkling blue eyes were done spinning in his head, Sephiroth dropped him anyway. He collapsed onto the cement, things trickling out of him in several places.
The Mustang started up after some hesitation and peeled out of the parking lot, a pink slip of paper fluttering out of the driver's window. Cloud didn't have to move far to pick it up, but he knew what it was before he read it.
It was, off course, a call to duty slip. He was to report to Midgar on Tuesday. Well, at least the General was giving him a day to get there.
The sun set in glory in the West as Yuffie came around the corner, a cold cok in her hand. She stopped short when she saw Cloud bruised and battered on the ground.
Teh 3nd
