Can You Imagine

BY : Cyn
Category: Final Fantasy VIII > General
Dragon prints: 437
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.


Can you imagine?

Cyn

DISCLAMER - These characters in no way, shape or form belong to me. They are the property of their creators. I'm just borrowing them for a little while.



Dislcamer: I don't own them. I promise to put them back where I found them when I'm donth tth them.

Notes: This is from Zell's point of view.



Can't you just imagine it?

I sure as hell can. Soft spiderweb hair running through my fingers and brushing against my thighs. Warm mouth cradling me. Grey eyes close con concentration and for once the worry line on his forehead next to his scar going away as he lets himself go.

It's enough to make a grown man cry.

Not that he's going to be doing any of these things mind you. He's off being a hero.
Hero's don't do anything as base as fucking their teammates into a wall. Or sucking them off. Or anything for that matter. Heroes are good for doing what needs to be done and being perfect.

Ever notice how heroes always look like they've stepped out of a painting, or are posing to be a statue? Do they have a school for tha som something? I must have slept through that class when they offered it. While grand high leader over there looks like he got straight A's and went back for extra credit.

Everyone else is too awed by him to notice just how perfect he is. How that body moves when he fights. They must be blind. That or they're just convinced that he's still hung up on that Rinona chick. I have to admit that if I swung that way I would probably be dying to get into her pants. Well, at least before she pulled that spooky sorceress voodoo on us. Nothing ruins the mood like wondering if your lady fair is going to start sprouting wings and cursing you as you're getting ready to do her.

I thought he and her were all hot and heavy. I thought they would be together forever and all that other fairytale bullshit that everyone is brought up to believe.
Changed my mind real quick when I saw him sucking off the resident cowboy.

That was quite a picture. They were in the training center. Irvine was braced up against a tree. His hat was lying on the ground with the rest of his clothing. Long auburn curls were freed from their tie to fall against his chest…and grand high leader man was on his knees before him sucking him like his life depended on it. Irvine's hands were cemented to his head. I could hear him moaning encouragement as Squall licked up his cock like it was some prtedrted Popsicle.

Cowboy didn't last too long under that treatment, but who would? If a walking wet dream came in and started licking parts of you that don't often see the light of day wouldn't you be ready to give it up after only a few minutes?

The cowboy sank to the ground after that. I heard Squall ragging on him for his lack of stamina. Irvine turned the tables on him and wrestled him to the ground with him. They mumbled something to each other then leader man got on his hands and knees.

I almost turned and walked away after that. This was too much. I had seen enough to fuel a lifetime of wet dreams; I didn't need any more.
Then I heard the cowboy asking him if he wanted it. Icy leader man turned and swore that he wanted it hard and he wanted it now.

Irvine chuckled deep in his throat and said that he was going to have to ask a little more nicely before he got anything. His hands reached up to twist cotton candy pink nipples and leader man tossed back his head and moaned.

He actually moaned. I couldn't believe it. The man who never says anything moaned like a girl. This man who is obsessively silent when undergoing pain and torture moaned!

Their voices were getting louder. I guess they were too caught up in the moment to worry about all the little nasties running around the training center that might be able to hear them. Myself included.

I guess that moan was enough for Irvine. Two gun callused hands slipped their way up inside of him causing Squall's back to arch and another moan force his way through his lips.

Those moans still get me. Even though I saw it happening I can't believe that Squall Leonheart would let himself go enough to moan.

Cowboy over there must have liked the sound of those moans because he kept grunting encouragement as he fingerfucked our leader.

I don't know how but I managed to not reach down and jerk myself to release when the cowboy stopped with the fingers and proceeded to fuck our leader into a state of bliss.

Maybe I didn't want to miss out on any of it because I've had to beat off every time I've thought of it after that.

Every fucking night it replays against my closed eyelids. Squall's back arching with release and Irvine pounding into him like his life depended on it.

You can see now where my Squall obsession came from. I almost hate them for having what I want. But you can't hate people like that.

Ever try to hate a hero? It just doesn't work. You might get fed up with them, have cynical little thoughts about how you could do their job better than they can, but in the end you just can't hate them.

It must be another one of those things that they teach you in class.

Maybe it's time I went back and re-took some of those classes. Or maybe I just want to watch them again. Rutting under the skylights like animals.



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