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Final Fantasy IV - Gift Wrapped	By : terpfen Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy II - V Views: 1600 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no claim of ownership nor assert any rights to the Final Fantasy property or characters depicted herein. Final Fantasy IV is copyright Square-Enix. I derive no income or other form of compensation from this work.

Chapter List
- 1-Final Fantasy IV - Gift Wrapped
- 1
“For H.R.H. Cecil Harvey. Congratulations. Consume slowly.”
So read the note tied with ribbon to a rather tall, unopened bottle of wine. Written in flowery script, it seemed as out of place as the bottle and glass it accompanied, all perched invitingly on the arm of a throne.
Not his throne, of course. The newly-crowned king of Baron had scarcely been crowned before he departed his new kingdom, having decided to re-travel the world and personally return each of the stolen crystals to their rightful owners. One long gauntlet of formal receptions, state dinners, and spontaneous celebrations later, here was the new king, inspecting this strange but tempting bottle of wine in the V.I.P. basement of a Troian club house. Cecil couldn’t help but chuckle as he sat down in the faux throne, allowing himself to relax at the tail end of a long trip.
Of course, I really shouldn’t be here, he thought to himself. The Troian Epopts had been polite but curt when reaccepting the Earth Crystal, likely still begrudging Cecil’s “borrowing” of the thing in the first place. And then their attention had turned to Rosa, his new bride and queen. The eight Troian leaders seemed thrilled and preoccupied with the installation of a woman as co-ruler of a foreign land, and so Cecil had whispered his intent in his wife’s ear, and had slipped out when circumstances permitted. With her permission, of course.
And now, here he was, a real king on a prop throne in an expensive basement pouring himself a free drink. Well, then. Cecil allowed himself a sliver of the dark red liquid in his glass. Strong! Too strong! The note wasn’t kidding: this was powerful stuff. He hadn’t tasted anything close to this since stupidly accepting a poisoned drink in Mysidia. At least now he was a Paladin, and could cure himself with a murmur of an Esuna spell, if need be. Still, the wine went down smoothly, and had a pleasing aftertaste... it appeared to be a genuine product, not a laced concoction.
Secure in his evaluation—after all, he had sampled alcohol the world over—Cecil allowed himself another sip. And already he felt a little looser, a little more relaxed. The fault of this mystery wine? Or just plain old exhaustion? Another sip. An empty glass. A refill. Cecil was truly settled now, relaxed and relieved. Alone with a good drink. He sank further into his seat, his posture melting into the soft padding.
Was this thing always so comfortable? Probably. Just never noticed before. The previous time Cecil had visited this V.I.P. room, he was in Troia to retrieve the Earth Crystal. Already disturbed and distracted by Kain’s betrayal, his kidnapping of Rosa, and the impossible ransom demand... somehow, Cid convinced Cecil to buy a pass and take a break. And he scarcely had time to become familiar with the comforts of fine furniture when the parade of dancers came out, strutting their finely-shaped bodies for his pleasure. He had to admit, the diversion had definitely lightened his mood. And his wallet.
Dancers? Huh. That was weird. Weren’t they supposed to start their act when a customer sat down? Maybe they just didn’t work this late: Cecil hadn’t been able to sneak away from Troia Castle until nearly midnight. He shrugged it off and sipped the last of his second glass of wine.
And then the side door, camouflaged in the stone wall surrounding the stage, swung open. Cecil perked up, expecting the same parade of women from his memories. Instead... nothing. No music. No rush of smiling ladies. Drat. Well, the Paladin decided, it wasn’t a total loss. He simply poured himself another small pool of wine.
Then came a clicking sound. Cecil looked around. Nothing. No one. Odd.
Click. Again. And again. From the left. Cecil looked over in time to see a dainty foot, adorned with a white high heel, step out of the unlit darkness and into the stage light. Click. Then the other foot came forward, followed by a long and slender leg, clad in white silk. Click. The first foot retook its lead, bringing its leg and the curve of a bare hip along. Click. Click. Click. Two more steps were taken, and the stage lights finally illuminated the fully-developed figure of a young woman.
Her clicky high heels stood at a sharp incline, pure white toes and thin spike barely supporting her frame. Tall legs were made to look even longer thanks to those heels, and their length seemed to outgrow the white silk stockings reaching halfway up her curved thighs. Bare skin dominated the expanse from her upper legs to her protruding hips, with two long flaps of transparent pink silk hanging from a high-cut leotard. The leotard dipped downward between her legs in an imitation of string underwear, a narrow, laced strip of fabric barely covering her womanhood.
Upward from her hips, more clear silk covered her belly and disappeared as it ran underneath a set of large, swelling breasts. Big for her frame, her bosom was inadequately covered by yet more white silk, which seemed to reach up from her sides to grab at those heavy spheres, her nipples covered underneath a series of three talon-like stripes. A gold necklace hung low on her chest, ending in a rectangular shaft that dipped phallically into her cleavage. Long gloves adorned both arms, merging into solid gold rings just below her bare shoulders. And more gold could be seen at the top of her head, long bangs of blonde hair framing her face and beautifully accenting her white crown...
... Crown? Cecil squinted, augmenting his alcohol-tinted vision.
“Rosa?!”
Her pink lips formed into a small smile as she nodded. The newlywed queen of Baron stepped forward, clicking until she stood in front of the stage’s throne, arms behind her back.
“Surprise!” she exclaimed. “How do you like your wedding gift?”
“Well...” Cecil began. “The wine is a little strong...”
Rosa stepped forward again, bending slightly at the knee to bring her full bosom into her husband’s view. “No, not that,” she chided with a smile. “I mean your wedding gift.”
“I like them very much!” Cecil breathed, speaking directly to the breasts hanging delectably near his face. And then they drew forward, landing with a soft squish on the king’s upturned face. He grabbed on to the heavy orbs and held them firm, the alcohol’s influence quickly convincing Cecil that, yes, it was perfectly reasonable to begin licking the depths of his wife’s cleavage.
Rosa submitted an approving moan as she mounted the wide throne, her knees straddling between the armrests and Cecil’s thighs. “I didn’t mean those!” she chided again. “But if His Highness wills it...”
The queen’s hands came up, her silk-covered fingers layered atop her husband’s. She gave a squeeze, encouraging Cecil to do to the same. Soon, the royal bosom was massaged by four hands, each pawing and playing with their own soft handful. Rosa set her weight down on Cecil’s lap, showing her affection by grinding against his stiffening crotch. That escalation, coupled with a need for air, caused Cecil to push back against Rosa, lifting her breasts from his red-flushed face. His hands, however, remained in place, continuing their greedy groping.
“Rosa,” Cecil panted, face lightening as he caught his breath. “I think you’d better stop that...”
“Stop what?” she acted.
“Your... rubbing,” Cecil stated tactfully. “If you don’t, I’m...”
“Already? Well, we can’t have that,” the white mage toned playfully. “Yet.”
Rosa stood back up, regretfully out of the reach of Cecil’s grubby mitts. Her breasts jiggled softly into place as she let go, faint red marks illustrating their ordeal. Additional red flushed along her cheeks as she took a deep breath, calming herself. The new queen was nothing short of terrified, though doing a great job of hiding it, or so she hoped. Conceiving this little tryst was one thing: an innocent little fantasy, nothing more. Deciding to go through with it took a bit of self-convincing. Figuring out how, where, and when to get Cecil in just the right place and mood was... difficult. Actually placing an order for and wearing this embarrassingly revealing silk nothing? Mortifying.
That surge of horror disappeared as she smiled down on her newly-declared husband. Sure, Rosa had greased his wheels just a teeny little bit. But Cecil’s open admiration of his wife, his eagerness to have her, and the very lecherous way he was taking in her hourglass figure... yes. This would be worth all the trouble and the risk.
Let’s do this.
Rosa dropped to her knees, neatly and swiftly undoing the crotch of Cecil’s pants. His Paladin’s armor had been left at home, replaced on this trip with the robes of a king and diplomat. Rosa liked it that way: undoing a couple of buttons was much simpler than removing a metal-plated codpiece. But the result, Rosa delightfully observed, was still the same: the king’s hard penis jutting up inches from her face, gorged full of half-Lunarian blood and ready for feminine attention.
“Well, well. Hello, there. It’s been a while,” the blonde observed, propping the shaft up with a soft hand. Minding her manners, she gave the tip a quick kiss, eliciting a sharp inhalation from her husband. “But, where are your friends?” Rosa ran her silk-clad hand down along the length, casually dipping in underneath its base. Smiling up at her husband’s onlooking face, she playfully rummaged around inside his robes, brushing her gloved fingers across his sensitive inner thighs. Momentarily, she “found” what she was looking for, withdrawing her hand while gently cupping the king’s heavy scrotum. Again, the newlywed queen was aware of her manners, laying gentle kisses on the rounded sack before setting it down. Cecil’s posture was now sufficiently slumped that his balls were able to rest on the plush seat, mimicking their weary owner. He let out a sigh, appreciative of his wife’s careful fondling and the oddly comfortable position he was now in...
“Oh, my. Are you that comfortable, dear?” Rosa asked. Cecil just nodded as he looked downward at his wife. From his viewpoint, his aching penis appeared to stick out of her soft cleavage and stretch all the way to her pink, inviting lips. Being drunk and horny was... new.
Rosa smiled as she rose to her feet. “Then maybe I’ll have a seat, myself. These heels are just too much!”
Cecil nodded again. “Of course, love. Have a... seat?” Two facts struck the tipsy paladin just then: one, that there was only one throne; and, two... two... two glorious globes of butt! Rosa had turned around, revealing her backside to her husband. Her golden blonde hair spilled down over what turned out to be a bare back, stopping roughly halfway down, just before curving outward toward her derriere. And what a curve! Two firm, supple curves of butt stared back at the stunned king, clad only in the barest of see-through silk, and divided evenly by two thin strings that curved downward and merged in the crevice between. Traveling across the world twice—once to save it, once to amend it—had done the queen’s seating an impressive favor.
“Wow...” he breathily exclaimed.
Rosa gave a soft giggle in response; looking over her bare shoulder, she couldn’t help but be amused—and embarrassed, but mainly amused—by the obvious desire written on Cecil’s face. Well, why make him wait? Besides, the heels actually did hurt. Slowly, teasingly, Rosa bent ever so slightly forward, the king’s eyes widening further and further as his queen bent her knees, exaggerating and extending the process of sitting down. Slowly... slowly... her hips gradually descended, her butt resting atop his now-throbbing penis, bringing it along. Slowly... nearly there... his shaft slipped out, slapping against her silk-covered butt cheek as she finally nestled in his lap, trapping the aching organ between his thigh and her leg.
Cecil groaned out, the tight pressure and clingy silk playing haywire with his alcohol-tinged senses. He instinctively wrapped his arms around Rosa’s slender waist, holding on as the sensations gradually settled. Slowly, despite the tight pressure, the clingy silk, and that evil little smirk on Rosa’s face signifying that she knew exactly what effect she was having... somehow, Cecil calmed himself down. Somehow, he resisted the flurry of urges his wife’s behavior inspired. But still... the curve of her exposed back, the strawberry scent of her bright hair, that taunting grin...
Cecil’s hands traveled upward along Rosa’s torso, his caresses signaling his surrender to baser instincts. Rosa reclined, pressing her bare back against Cecil’s broad torso. Smiling under the gentle fondling, Rosa took up the wine bottle and glass, pouring out a small puddle. Hmm... why not? She raised the glass to her soft lips, but rather than taste a sip, she threw her head back and chugged.
“Rosa!” Cecil chided, still very much under and aware of the wine’s strong effects. “That’s... not a good idea.”
“Hee hee, of course not. But what’s wrong with a little fun?” Rosa replied, already feeling the liquor. She poured another glass, this one with at least double the previous amount. She again raised the glass to her mouth and began drinking, slower this time.
“You are not drinking tha—mmf!” Cecil briefly protested, before Rosa cut him off. She pulled his head down above her shoulder, turning to kiss him, wine flowing freely between their mouths as their tongues swirled. Cecil’s hands found their way to Rosa’s breasts, squeezing them softly even after their kiss broke. A small trail of wine flowed from Cecil’s lip, which Rosa eagerly licked up, giving her an excuse to kiss him again. Their embrace lasted longer than the previous, but still ended all too soon. After setting the wine and glass down, Rosa looked back at her husband.
“What was that, dear?” Rosa teased. “Oh, that’s right. This seat has a big lump in the middle. Let me rub it out for you...”
“No, wait—yaaah!” The paladin’s protest stopped halfway as Rosa angled her hips to the side, trapping Cecil’s shaft between her butt cheeks. Without waiting, she slid her hips downward toward Cecil’s knee, then back up toward his hips. Down, up. Down, up. The silk sheets hanging from her hips served as a sort of lubrication, allowing Rosa to almost glide across her husband’s length. She took full advantage.
The king of Baron was powerless, speechless. Whatever ability he had to form words and sentences was gone, replaced by a series of meek mewlings and moaning whimpers. He clung tightly to his wife, embracing her for dear life as her weight relentlessly see-sawed along his penis. Back and forth and back and forth, heavy pressure accentuated by soft silk that clung to every curve and ridge on his manhood, sandwiched between two tightly-flexed globes of gorgeous butt...
And stopped. Cecil’s hands clenched at Rosa’s hips, trapping them in place atop his pulsing rod. The queen, surprised at the sudden halt, did her best to take events in stride. “What’s wrong, dear? Is this too much for you?” she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice. A response came swiftly: she was lifted up onto her feet, squatting down at her knees and bent forward at the waist, her butt sticking out at her husband. Her glistening wetness was smeared between her butt globes, dragged into place by long, rough grinding. The king seemed pleased by the view, his hands digging deeper into her curved hips.
“No,” Cecil replied, a slight shortness in his breath. “It’s not enough!” He gave a sharp tug, pulling his wife’s hips downward, forcefully penetrating the queen of Baron’s virgin asshole. Rosa’s head snapped up, blonde hair jerking wildly at the sudden movement, teeth clenched in shock and discomfort. Giving up her anal cherry had certainly been the goal all along, with plenty of... self-preparation devoted to the task, but not quite this suddenly. Not squatting down in spiked heels, held in place by strong hands... even if the moans from the king were music to her ears.
But... as her hips sunk downward, her anal pore swallowing her loving husband’s cock, barely accommodating its size... there was something thrilling and naughty about being taken so swiftly, so desperately. The penetration itself sent shivers of pleasure up her spine, but the manner in which it was happening, the way her flimsy little g-string had been totally defeated by this thick shaft wedged in her anus... oh, yes. What had been a playful little fantasy for months was now a need, a craving. She wanted this badly, suddenly needing to watch the pulsing thing burrow even deeper inside. Somehow...
Rosa spread her legs and bent forward even further, inadvertently offering Cecil an even greater view of her stuck rump as she tried to get an inverted view of her own skewering... and couldn’t. Her own body, lush and full, was working against her. The further forward she bent, the lower her heavy breasts hung, swaying slowly as Cecil pressed further inside Rosa. Her view was totally blocked by the buoyant melons the king loved so much.
Unable to see between her legs—for once, Rosa cursed her generous bosom, the hanging orbs blocking what should have been an upside-down view of her beloved’s manhood piercing her backdoor—the white mage was unable to tell just how much additional length was waiting to push inward. Unable to watch. Unable to see! She felt strangely disconnected from her love’s pleasure, even though that pleasure consisted of her tight little sphincter and the untouched territory beyond. Desperately wanting both more intimacy with—and the full length of—her loving husband, the horny blonde went with her first impulse.
She rose back up, looking back over her shoulder with a smirk. Cecil’s face was contorted in bliss, his inhibitions and objections long gone. He gave no sign that he noticed Rosa’s movements, still concentrated on pulling her hips onto his lap, almost on mental autopilot.
And then Rosa dropped down, forcing herself upon the remaining inches of Cecil’s dick, sheathing him fully inside her ass. The newlyweds howled together in sudden sensation: Cecil, as the tight tunnel of his wife’s ass clamped down on his cock; and Rosa, as an electric jolt of being forced so suddenly open shivered along her gorgeous body. Overwhelmed by shock and pleasure, both were motionless, the queen mounted upright upon the king. The room was dead silent, save for their heavy breathing.
Soon,
Cecil sighed. Even drunk, he recognized an impossible battle. “No more of that. It’s... hm?” A finger on his lips again cut Cecil off. Rosa shook her head.
“Shh. You talk too much!” Rosa shifted her hips, reminding her husband of his rather compromising position. Rather, the compromising position he held Rosa in. She looked into his eyes, desire suddenly written on her face.
“Ceciiiiil... you know what I want, riiiight?” The normally sober white mage was certainly feeling her alcohol now. She shoved her hand between her legs, openly masturbating. “Don’t want to wait any more. Waited too long. I want it right now! Good and rough and hard! And dirty! Hee hee, dirty sounds fun!”
What good husband could refuse such a request? Cecil readied himself, slowly withdrawing almost entirely from his wife’s bottom, then...
“Yeeeeeeek!” Rosa shrieked, snapped out of her self-pleasuring reverie by the forceful re-entry. Then another. And another. The thrusts blended together and she lost count, feeling only the constant pounding and the slapping of flesh against flesh. Exactly what she wanted. What she needed.
Cecil’s heavy moaning echoed in Rosa’s ear. Eager to make him feel even better, she attempted to ride him, doing her best to push back against his thrusting. Her eager masturbation and sudden alcoholic tiredness worked against the new wife, and the best she could do was clench her back tunnel tighter. A sharp, almost pained groan from Cecil signaled something she hoped was appreciation.
Suddenly, Cecil released his grip on his wife’s breasts and pushed her upright, propping her from the waist. Grabbing tightly, he pulled her straight down as his thrusts darted upward, slamming himself deep and hard into Rosa’s tight hole. One jarring thrust followed another, and another. Rosa’s body quaked, shaking from the force of her beloved’s fucking combined with her frantic masturbation. Her fingers dug in deep, spurred on as Cecil’s heavy balls slapped up against her hand.
Even in her drunken frenzy, Rosa couldn’t help but be overwhelmed. Barely 20 years old, already married—to a king(!), dressed up like some dancer slut to please him, riding his dick like some sort of masturbation aid, her fingers buried up her soaked cunt...
Her orgasm hit like a wave, rolling across her sweat-slicked body. Rosa could barely whimper, could only bite her quivering lip as she seized up, shuddering in a powerful release. She was vaguely aware that the world had stopped bouncing, could feel the warm cum shooting deep inside her ass, relished the hot breath on her shoulder as the love of her life came inside her...
And then Rosa collapsed, going limp into the king’s safe embrace. She was pulled back, again reclining against him. Dizziness washed over her as she came down from her high. Suddenly she was out of breath, panting like a tired dog. She couldn’t speak, and judging by the heavy breathing over her shoulder, neither could he. Both were content to remain in each other’s embrace, content for the moment. Allowing himself to recline against the throne back, he tiredly looked up at the ceiling, his dazed reverie interrupted only by his wife’s occasional brushing against his manhood.
“That... was incredible,” he murmured.
“Mmhmm,” came her assent, accompanied by a light clinking sound.
“We should really...” Cecil was interrupted by another soft clink. “What was that?” He looked downward just in time to watch Rosa take a sip of wine. Her glass emptied quickly, and a third clink sounded as she refilled the glass, the tip of the wine bottle contacting the rim of the glass.
“Rosa...”
“Hm?” she muttered, quickly downing her latest glass. She burst into a smile. “You’re right. We should really do this again. Soon. Now.” Her heels clicked as she set weight on them, rising off her kingly seat.
“Rosa!” Cecil protested. This was getting out of hand.
The queen turned around, a big grin on her face. She upended the wine bottle, pouring a slight amount of liquor on her chest. The red liquid took its time in traversing the swell of her breasts, slowly following their curves, finally pooling inside her cleavage.
“Oh, no!” Rosa cried in faux distress. “I seem to have spilled my drink! Is there a gentleman here who could help me?” She bent forward, her breasts hanging wantonly in Cecil’s face. “Could you clean me up, dear?”
What husband could refuse?
- 1
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Final Fantasy IV - Gift Wrapped