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Final Fantasy 7. Tifa Lockhart: Journey to Midgar.	By : Nickamano Category: Final Fantasy VII > General Views: 7306 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 is created and owned by Squaresoft, now Square-Enix. Nothing here is owned by me. It was created for entertainment purposes, and I am not profiting financially from the creation and online presentation of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
INTERMISSION – SIX MONTHS.
Zangan –
Zangan emerged from the edge of the woods onto vast green plains of long grass with mirages of other distant forests dotted around on the horizon. It was a beautiful morning, a high bright sun, a cooling ocean breeze from the south, and hardly a cloud in the sky. And yet he was torn and heavy hearted.

It had been the hardest thing to leave the cabin, the events the previous night, no matter how wonderful, plagued him. Guilt gripped him like shackles, weighing him down, darkening the beauty of the day. Hazy memories of pure joy and intense sexual gratification, of Tifa’s naked body, the taste and feel of her skin, her facial expressions. They all tried to again and again to insinuate themselves into his attention. Almost like a tether, they clung to him, trying to get him to return to her waiting arms. Though he knew that the only thing to do was to deny those delights, to put them out of his mind.

He should never have let last night happen. There was supposed to be a clear divide, narrow and sometimes fluid but solid and clear all the same. The master and the student. The friend and the confident and at times the therapist too, but only those. ‘Lovers’ was absolutely forbidden, under any circumstance. One of his own, long self-imposed commandments. Never mind the age difference, simple ethical necessity out of the potential power to manipulate, to take advantage of, was all that was necessary to justify the rule. And it was exactly what he had done, what he had allowed her to do. He had relaxed, chosen to see and treat Tifa as a companion, an equal. Had allowed that greyed out relationship status to seduce him and allowed himself to relax and get so drunk that he lost all self-control and those final ill-steps had been taken. Lovers.

It had been an easy step taken too. All his fault and responsibility. He was the experienced adult after all. And the individual with all the power in the relationship. A long-time mentor and friend and confident, and then surrogate father. There should have been no room on that list for ‘lover’.

Tifa bore no responsibility, even though he had been faintly aware of her crush on him. It was for him to maintain his own commandments, whatever the temptation, and he had failed to do that. It had been easy to foresee looking back, and he should have seen it beginning and taken steps early on.

And yet Tifa was fun to be around. The perfect, inquisitive and quick-to-grasp-his-lessons student, as well as intelligent, good natured, kind and… Everything else about her. The fact that she was lovely to look at, and to touch and be touched by, wasn’t lost on Zangan either but he refused to countenance that element as one that meant anything to him, however much he recognised that belief as essentially, especially after last night, self-deception.

Though, he remained confused and torn. Afterall, she was only six months orphaned, her home, village and other than him, everyone she had ever known taken away from her. Was six months enough time for her to be left to stand on her own two feet? He had no doubts about her ability to live and grow in the practical sense, she had the skills, the intellect and the knowledge. He had checked and double checked those facts during the last six months.

However, was it right to be leaving her alone after only six months to grieve and get used to being orphaned? The loss of her roots and everyone she had ever known; all familiarity was gone. Other than himself of course, and now he was taking himself out of her life too.

The question remained, if he did go back now, promise to stay with her, what would that do to her opinion of him? What would that make her think about their relationship? She had suffered rejections in the form of the recent deaths and change in circumstances. Another rejection now might tip her over the edge. If he were to go back and say he’ll stay but they must remain platonic and as master and student exclusively, she would doubtless see this as another rejection. As it stood, she recognised his leaving as a necessary evil, and she had a particular time frame, that he would be back by the first of November. He hoped that given these six-and-a-bit-months it might be enough for her to get over her crush and maybe even allow her to make a few decisions about her future, where she wanted to live, what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

Feeling slightly less weighed down and a little more optimistic about his decision to walk away, Zangan turned Northeast and made his way toward the road that led to North Corel.

Tifa -
The teenager spent the first week exhausted, having thrown herself into training and working on developing and understanding the inner workings of the Beat Rush. She just wanted to get these days out of the way as quickly as possible until he came back. And the best way she found to do that was to work herself hard, passing the time, making and eating meals, going to bed with the sunset and getting up with the sunrise.

The sexual experience of their last night together had also, annoyingly, awakened something in her, a sexuality that up until now had been essentially dormant. Looking back, she started to feel like any sexual energy and frustrations she might have experienced once she had entered puberty, must have been vented through her training, as she had never felt much sexually prior to these last six months.
Sure, there had been the odd date, and a little fumbling and kissing here and there. However, she had always felt a little out of sync with the boys who were showing her such interest. She really just went along with things, rather than feeling any actually arousal herself. And looking back, it felt likely that it had been her training that had sapped the majority of her energies and her interest.

She had liked some of the boys, appreciated and felt flattered by their attentions towards her. However, when things were taken further it felt out of place, somehow unreal or like a foreign language that she wasn’t versed in. A new fad or craze she wasn’t party to. She tried her best but nothing seemed to click.

Part of the time it had amused her. The couple of lads she had dated, had seemed equal parts turned on by her and scared of her. There was a lot of hesitance and checking if she was okay with whatever they were trying to do. She supposed they were scared that if they pushed their luck too far and she got angry or hurt, she’d just lay them out. Everyone knew how strong she was, and what levels of violence she was capable of. Not that she had ever needed to use her martial skills on humans. A handful of monsters down from the mountains on rare occasions, were the few times she had used her skills to take life or cause injury. Though she supposed when you witness someone break a foot-thick tree log with an open palmed chop, or split a stone boulder with an axe-kick, you recognise the power and the potential there.

It had started with letters of adoration, always ‘Sealed With A Loving Kiss’, begging for a date or just to be someone’s girlfriend or to go steady, depending on the fashionable jargon of the season. The first physical contact tried with her was simple holding hands and occasional chaste kisses. She had liked that stuff. She enjoyed the devotion and the sweetness of their professions of adoration, and the gifts they often brought.

Unfortunately, it was also the first time she started to feel the jealousy of the other village girls. It was as if they saw Tifa as stealing all the most handsome boys for herself. It wasn’t her fault they chased her, as far as she was concerned there were plenty of girls for the boys to chase after, and yet they all chased her. Though she saw, looking back, that she was saved from the strong resentments of the girls because she didn’t take most of the attention very seriously and though she on occasion accepted dates and showed appreciation for the attention, it never really went anywhere or went on for very long. And often times a girl got to have the boyfriend she had secretly desired, even if it was on the rebound from Tifa.

And then, as she started to develop her curves, a couple of the older boys started to show more interest and to try push things a little further with her physically. She had been introduced to open mouthed kissing and tongue kissing almost immediately, and then before she knew it dates were groping her breasts and ass through her clothes. She allowed a little of that, unless they got too excited and rough, then she would snap at them and the fear would overtake the lust, like a bucket of cold water on a copulating dog. The most memorable example of that had been an occasion with Wel, and it had only happened once with him.

Her father started to show more concern too and started to keep a closer watch on her but that had been more about embarrassing him and his position as Mayor, or of the potential for her to bring down the Lockhart name.

Cloud had never really shown that kind of interest in her, she thought that maybe he looked, but the one night they had met up at the water tower, the night of The Promise, there had been no physical contact at all, no kiss, attempt at groping. It had confused her a little the morning after but he hadn’t made any more requests for water tower trysts or dates or anything, between that day and the following spring when he left.

She had gone the furthest with Dan, in the months leading up to the fire. She had allowed him to grope her breasts under her top, as long as he was gentle with pinching her nipples, and had rubbed his erection through his canvass trousers a little. The very last time she had even levered his cock out of his pants and jerked him off while they kissed and he had played with her breasts. She had even allowed him to slip a hand under her skirt and for a few minutes, his shivering fingertips had probed her pussy lips through her underwear, but he had suddenly squirted his cum all over the packed-earth ground and that had been the end of it. That had been the furthest she had ever gone with a boy.

She admitted to herself that she had been attracted to a number of the boys, though not particularly due to their looks. Some were very handsome, Dan and Wel certainly and Cloud too when he wasn’t scowling and had cleaned himself up properly. However, she thought her attraction was always more because they had grown up together, they were close to her, and she appreciated them as friends. Looking back, she supposed she had been treating the pubescent-sexual interactions with the boys as rewards for the adoration and compliments paid to her, rather than the expression of pure mutual lust she and Zangan had experienced. It had felt more a fair trade to her, to give a couple of the boys who liked her, that she felt the closest to, a little of what they wanted. And it hadn’t cost her anything.

So, going as far as she had gone with Zangan that night had been quite a trip. She had gone much, much further with Zangan than she ever had with any of the Nibelheim boys. And it had been an explosive and eye-opening experience. The lust she felt for the man, the pure concentrated joy of orgasm. And possibly just as joyous, the self-gratification of giving pleasure to him, seeing his attraction to her and his expression of it. Seeing and experiencing his sexual exhilaration at her touch and in the use of her body. It had just been magical and she couldn’t wait until he returned so they could carry on where they left off. She wasn’t sure she would even be able to wait until sunset that New Year’s Day. She could easily envision herself caught up in the initial welcome embrace and that embrace leading at once to a frantic sexual union.

Her sexual awakening, though physically rebuked by training and hard work, continued to manifest through dreams. She supposed it must manifest in some way or there may be some kind of psychological ill consequence.

The previous night she had dreamed of Zangan, or at least, it had looked like Zangan. They had been in her bedroom, sitting on her bed. At first chatting about her pair of huge plush toy bears. However, Zangan had soon cast the two bears aside and grabbed Tifa, pulling her clothing off as she struggled to help. Then, both naked he had fallen on to her and they had rutted like animals, noisy and hard, the bed shaking and creaking in time to their frantic mutual thrusting. Soon enough the windows had been rattling in their frames and then the whole room had been shaking. And through it all, Tifa had been squealing in sexual bliss. She had woken up suddenly, horny and amazed by the dream which, as she tried to keep a hold of the details and the way she had felt on waking up, she had realised that it had looked like Zangan in the dream, though she knew, looking back, that it had really been Cloud.

She lay alone and secure in her bed as the dawning light sliced across the upper portion of the room and masturbated. It wasn’t the first time, she had played with herself back home a handful of times, and even managed to orgasm once or twice. However, with her father in the very next room, or just downstairs, she had always felt constrained and having to keep the noise and her movements to a minimum so as not to alert him, which had hindered her ability to relax and enjoy herself.

In the solitary security of the cabin, out of earshot of any and all humans, she had been free to express her sexual pleasure as loud and colourfully as she liked and she hadn’t held back, and her climax had been long and powerful.

Tifa worked hard to pass the time, as the weeks seemed to be dragging along painfully slow, and to make things worse for her, all too often her loneliness and missing her beloved Zangan, entwined with her continuing grief for the loss of her father and her village. And then to make matters worse still, she realised that her sixteenth birthday had passed her by unnoticed. There was no one to share it with, no one to celebrate with.

Instead she tried to put aside the losses in her life, and chose to focus on her daily chores, keeping the cabin clean and tidy, and keeping up with her training.

Each day she would dress, eat breakfast and then start her training regime. Stretching warm ups, leading to a run through the forest. Then pausing for some of the more athletic exercises, somersaults and backflips, flip kicks, leaping and flipping. Once she was happy with her skill level for the day she would move onto forms.

Zangan had left a seven-foot stump of a tree around the back of the cabin, firmly rooted. He had stripped off the bark and most of the lower limbs, forming a makeshift ‘wooden man’ training tool. Tifa used it to practice strikes and elbows, kicks and knees. She couldn’t quite go full power as the wooden man would either have been smashed to splinters or up-rooted but it was a good method of practicing fast combinations, balance and footwork.

After lunch and cabin chores, she would turn her attention to her latest lesson, spending three hours practicing the Beat Rush technique and then another hour developing her own idea.

She had realised on her second day of practicing the Beat Rush, it that it would make an ideal opener for a combination, and so she started to work out other possible techniques that she could string along after it. She quickly realised that there were in fact many and she started to test different techniques in different combinations and different orders. Something was telling her there might be an optimum combination somewhere within her repertoire.

She slept deeply and the dream came on her again. Always of home and always sexual in nature.

This time it was Wel. The night before he left Nibelheim to look for a job, he was the eldest of their group, almost eighteen. Very handsome but also very sure of himself and cocky. He had always been attracted to Tifa but apparently, he preferred to go after the other girls in the village. Supposedly, according to Dan, that was purely because he thought they would more quickly spread their legs for him than Tifa would. Though from Tifa’s point of view, it could have just been Dan taking the opportunity to share his own concerns about Wel’s interest in her.

They met in the shadows after dark, underneath the framework of the water tower.

Wel was tall, with high cheekbones, full lips, crystal-blue eyes and lush, wavy hair. Tonight, he was wearing tight hide trousers, a simple shirt, and his ever-present fleece-lined jacket with its turned-up collar. It sported a stitched illustration of a beautiful and busty Pollensata, gesturing forward with a welcoming hand; while standing beneath a raging Thunderbird with his wings spread wide and its long talons reaching forward. A lot of people said the Pollensata resembled Tifa quite closely, and seeing the jacket often brought about a scowl of disapproval from her father. In fact, just like with Cloud, the disapproval came up whenever Wel’s name was mentioned.

Meeting her under the water tower, he slid in close to her casually, grinning with a confidence that brushed too close to arrogance. He stood a head taller than her, looking down with that grin, and ran the fingers of one hand through his waves of glossy chestnut brown hair.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“I heard. They’ll be no one left that this rate, Meiday, and Red, Cloud last spring, now you!”

He just shrugged, his glossy eyes on her body. She was wearing her turquoise minidress though it was a little too tight and short for her now. She had requested another one from her father but it wasn’t here yet.

“Why’d we never get together, babe? I’m pick of the bunch; you don’t doubt it! But you never showed any interest. I don’t get it.”
“You just aren’t my type, Wel.” Tifa said, shrugging.
“Really! Who the fuck is? The ruffian who left in spring?!”

Tifa didn’t respond, just frowned at the boy’s sudden anger. He was crowding her, his height and attitude intimidating, she wanted to step back, gave herself a little room. However, the wooden structure, and its robust central pipe emerging from the ground and ascending to the water cistern above them, gave her nowhere to go.

“…Whatever, you’ve missed you boat, with us both. But I ain’t gonna miss mine, let’s get it on now, while we can. I’m not leaving this dead-end town without being able to say I popped the cherry of the hottest girl before I left. C’mon.”

Tifa froze, momentarily aghast that this lad she’d known her whole life was behaving this way. He was obviously so cocky and sure of himself that it hadn’t entered his head that she might not want the same thing.

He reached out and grabbed the neckline of her dress to pull her closer. It was already stretched from the pressure of her jutting young breasts, the upper seams straining. So, when he used his fisted grip to yank her into his personal space, the whole front of her dress came apart and her perky breasts tumbled free, the underwear support featuring as part of the dress itself.

Wel’s eyes bulged, his hands immediately clamping down on a breast apiece, snatched up and crushed in his excited grasp. Tifa whimpered and struggled against him, wishing for a peaceful resolution. Wanting Wel to come to since senses, though now as close to him as she was, she could smell alcohol on his breath.

“I’m gonna screw you at least once before I leave. And that’s all there is to it.” He growled, pinching her sensitive nipples between the knuckles of his clawing fingers.

Tifa tried to twist herself out of his grip, he let go of one breast but his other hand was clamped on like a vice and it was getting painful. He leaned closer to her, his tongue out, trying to stick it into her mouth, her ear. He licked the side of her face.

“Stop, Wel! Let go!” She groaned, still struggling.

She was still not prepared to go as far in defending herself, as she could. Though at the same time it was becoming increasingly obvious that she might well have to.

“Stop, playing hard to get, you little cock tease. How can I get it up you when you’re being like this?! Damn these tits really are fantastic…!”

Further down, she was half aware of him fumbling at his crotch and then she caught a glimpse of an erection, jutting out from his trousers, pale and hard with a swollen, almost purple coloured crown. His free hand was on her thighs, rummaging under her skirt.

The moment his fingertips found the warm, split peach of her labia, she reared back, threw an arm out and then slapped him once across the face. Hard.

Hard meant with all the force of a vehicle collision. She had literally knocked him face first to the ground.

Wel shook his head, trying to figure out what had happened. One second, he was all over her - huge tit in one hand, pussy beneath the other, cock out and ready, literally seconds from getting it up her and starting to fuck. The next, he was on the ground two feet away, dazed, his skull pounding with a dull throbbing pain, eyes unfocussed and his mouth filled with blood where his teeth had cut into the inside of his cheek.

Tifa, stood over him looking disgruntled, disarrayed, and dismissive, trying to heft the torn front of her dress back up over those amazing tits.

“What the fuck, man!” He yelled, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
“You went too far you bastard! I told you to let go, but you wouldn’t.” Tifa snarled.

He actually sounded like he was the one who had been wronged and it made her even more angry than the painful forced groping. She stepped out from the shadows of the water tower structure and stormed past him, heading for home.

“Fuck! Cock teasing bitch!” Wel, snapped again, spitting more blood onto the packed-earth, still not quite able to sit up.

Tifa didn’t respond, trying hard to figure out a way of slipping past her father with her dress ruined the way it was.

She awoke suddenly, finding herself still angry from the dream. She skipped breakfast and instead then went straight into working on the ‘wooden man’, using the opportunity to vent her anger. Not caring that, with only her sleepwear on, it wasn’t particularly comfortable to train with her breasts so unencumbered.

She had smashed the top foot of the tall training tool into mere splinters of pale wood before she had exercised the red rage the dream had brought out. Though she was aware that it wasn’t a purely dream-inspired rage, there was anger in her grief too, anger at being left alone, anger at having missed her sweet-sixteenth and anger at herself for not being able to control her temper and damaging Zangan’s ‘wooden man’.

She took the remaining anger and threw it into the Beat Rush, seeing just how destructive it could be with her lost temper, the limit to her self-control momentarily throw aside. She practiced it against a smooth sided four-foot diameter boulder that sat on the edge of the stream. And she soon had it down to a small, smashed-up handfuls of rock, like a building-site or more generously, given the surrounding environment, a rockery-garden. The power there was impressive and the achievement switched her mood over and calmed her, made her feel positive and she smiled for the first time since yesterday.

Her rage excised, Tifa grabbed a towel and her clothes, including supporting underwear finally, and went to bathe in the stream. She cleaned off the sweat, washed her hair and lay back and refreshed herself, cooled her body and slowed her racing heart. Finally, she stepped out, towelled off and pulled on her clothing.

She had lunch, did her household chores, washed her sleepwear, checked on the shoots popping up in the vegetable garden and finally decided to take a walk through the forest.

Tifa sneaked around quietly, seeing what wild animals she could spot and how close she could get before they detected her presence and ran. There were no more Chocobo around. She assumed they had come into the forest from the plains beyond it, maybe to escape the Grand Horn that had followed them. Or maybe they had discovered better quality greens elsewhere. She found the carcass of the Grand Horn itself where they had left it, only it had been picked clean by now, literally just a pile of assorted bones.

She remembered that last night with Wel, the reality of it. And while she gazed around the clearing, she replayed it in her mind. She remembered that Wel had been a little less full of himself and certainly hadn’t groped her, so she hadn’t needed to hit him. Though he had certainly insisted they have sex, the night before he left and appeared to be fully expectant of her giving in to his demand. Of course, she hadn’t. She had just, blushing hotly and in mild shock, turned him down flatly and ran off home, leaving him standing there dumb-struck. Afterwards, she remembered confessing to Dan, the last of her male friends, that she had been doubly upset. Not only were there just two of them left now, but the departure of Wel had ended up so sour. He had left without saying goodbye and, according to his mother, had seemed to be in a bit of a huff that morning.

Around the Grand Horn’s mangled bones in the low clearing, she saw wolf tracks but they weren’t Nibel wolves, these were larger, probably as there were more abundant food sources around here. She also saw evidence of other animals - tracks, worried-away tree bark, feathers and fur and scales, all dotting about the clearing. She was certain of the evidence of the little ‘Touch Me’ frogs (named after a croaking noise they make which sounds just like the words ‘touch me’), and she also identified the tracks of Kimara Bugs, Flower Prongs, Gagihandi, and even what she thought must be a Skeeskee.

She realised she was getting good at spotting and identifying tracks and other evidence. She spotted edible plants, roots, fungi all over the place. And also, more than a few that could have killed her or made her very ill, or blind, or paralysed her vocal cords. There were all kinds of nasty things in the forest. She ran back to the cabin once she had her fill of exploration and got another two hours of training in before sunset. Then she ate her evening meal, read a little by lantern light and then headed for bed.

It was exactly the same dream. Meeting Wel at the water tower, him trying it on, tongue kissing her while scooping her breasts out of the top her turquoise dress and gorging himself on them. Then fingering her pussy with one hand while hauling his cock out with the other and shoving her hands onto it. This time though, Tifa played along for a bit, at least until he was trying to tug her underwear off and she was saying that was enough, that was as far as she was prepared to go. Then he got aggressive, then violent, and she slapped him. And again, he hit the deck as though a building had been dropped on him.

However, when he hit the ground he turned into Cloud. An older Cloud than he had been the last time she had actually seen him. And he was wearing Zack Fair’s black and grey SOLDIER First Class uniform. Cloud coughed and pulled himself to his feet, but seemed neither put out or hurt by Tifa’s slap.

In fact, she hadn’t slapped him at all, she had slapped Wel and he wasn’t here any longer. Cloud was here instead, actually here! Standing right in front of her, back from reaching his SOLDIER First Class goal. Overwhelmed with happiness, and a surprising rush of desire, she launched herself at him, flung her arms around him. She felt grateful for a familiar and still living face, someone who had always been nice to her and respectful. They hugged tight, though eventually, their faces drew apart from the ear-to-ear embrace, and before Cloud could say anything Tifa leaned in and kissed him hotly.

Cloud kissed her back immediately, his strong, muscular arms tight around her, lifting her easily of her feet as their tongues came together, dancing and frolicking from one’s mouth to the other’s, back and forth.

Then Cloud was shuffling her backwards underneath the wooden structure of the water tower, until her back thumped against the wide circumference of the metal pipe that drew the fresh water up from the underground spring. He drew the standard issue SOLDIER sword from his waist belt, a thick three-foot blade, two-hand leather bound grip with a stylised mushroom pommel and a crescent handguard which featured a hinged cover plate and fastening clip for Materia slots. He handed her the sword which she took off him, marvelling at its light weight. It might have been made of paper it was so light. And then with a gentle but hurried urging from Cloud, she raised the sword over her head and kept hold of it there, one hand on the flat of the blade the other on the grip.

She held Cloud’s fiery, horny, though somehow loving gaze with her own, seeing her reflection in pale blue mako-tainted eyes, very similar to Zack’s. She was gazing back at him with her own flush cheeked hunger. Her heavy-lidded eyes with their long feminine lashes alluring, her full lips parted and glistening with their combined saliva. She looked at his lips that were also parted though thinner than hers, the mouth narrower. His pale smooth skin, like alabaster. His unnatural blue eyes burning with a hot lust, that ever-present near frown, darkening his otherwise catalogue-model good looks. His wild, unkempt yet stylish and alluring hair. She wanted to lean up and receive another kiss, and she arched her shoulders and pressed the back of her head against the water pipe, lifting the angle of her head, aiming her lips at his. However, Cloud had his own ideas.
He looked down, the hunger in his eyes intensifying even more as his vision reflected a lush downward view of her breasts, captured in a low neck-line cropped vest-top. It didn’t occur to her that before Cloud had arrived, she had been wearing her turquoise dress. Now she had on one of the many sets of cropped vest-top and miniskirt ensembles. In Cloud’s reflective eyes she caught sight of his view of her top, jutting out due to her large breasts and the low cut of the top revealed a deep shadowy cleavage, that even enticed Tifa with its physical alluring beauty.

Cloud’s hands, gloveless though with leather vambraces adorning his forearms, reached up and snatched the lower hemline of her top, just below her midriff. And then he yanked at it, hoisted it over her breasts and let it snap back onto her upper chest, bearing the large perfect bosom to his desire-filled eyes. He cupped their undercurves, hefting their pert weight and lowered himself until his face was level with them and then buried his face against their softness and warmth. Her cleavage was like a furnace compared to the coldness of the wintry night air and Cloud revelled in being inside that intimate, warm, heavenly softness. He rolled around amongst her breasts, the sensitive skin of his face basking in the softness and heat enveloping him. But then the molten steel points of her nipples scalded his face whenever they touched him, and he found his lips drawn to them. He enclosed his mouth around one, sucking, licking, chewing gently. He gorged himself on her perfect flesh, while she responded with little whimpering, panting moans of pleasure.

He sucked at one and then the other. And then filled his hands with both, squeezing and groaning at their feel, pressing into them again, using his face to spread his coated saliva all over them.

“So big, so beautiful… Tifa…” He murmured into her immaculate orbs.

And all Tifa could do in reply was to moan with light and intensely erotic breathy sounds.

Cloud went on, letting his mindless desire draw him in, controlling him. He dropped to his knees, kissing a path down her smooth, sculpted abdominals as he descended, and groaning at the succulent feel and taste of her smooth skin. Her miniskirt was a pleated woollen number, with double-buckled leather belt-straps holding it in place. With deft fingers accelerated by barely controlled lust, he had the garment dropped and pooling around her ankles in a second.

He took a single second to feast his eyes on the smooth flow of crevices and rises of where her upper thighs flowed into her hips, and where her abdominals flowed into her pubic mound, with its skimpy tuft of soft, trimmed chestnut down. Then he spun her around so she faced the pipe, grabbed her hard and perfectly athletic ass cheeks, spread them and buried his face into the honey-sweet heat between them. His cool flesh making her gasp, his lips parting, hot breath caressing her most intimate parts. And then, hands all the while continuing to squeeze and spread her perfect buttocks, his tongue came out and he tasted her; feasted on her, gorged on her until her juices were flowing freely down her inner thighs, even with Cloud’s tongue lapping them up and slurping them down.

She felt the beginnings of her orgasm that had been building since his lips closed on her nipples, suddenly accelerate. As he tongued her pussy, scooped up her juices, licked her ass, licked her clit the feeling expanded, like a hot, sweet balloon in her core. All the while his arms were wrapped around her firm muscled thighs, stroking, caressing, embracing. Tifa’s hips were working independently, gyrating in little circles, forward and back and up and down, unable to keep still, riding her wave of simmering passion.

When Cloud’s mouth came away, she whimpered a little moan of disappointment but before she knew it, his hips were pressing against her naked bottom and there was a hot ridge there, encased in fabric. She moaned and panted her own desire, unable to form words.

A hurried fumble of buttons and then the hot ridge of fabric became a hotter shaft of naked cock flesh. Hard, ridged, bulging with veins and heavy pulsing muscle and all surrounded by a silky soft, almost oily foreskin.

She felt his hands feeling for her entrance, her lips spread, the hot blunt crown finding its rightful spot. The dull throbbing heat of him was sensational as he plugged her spread labia. One hand remained on her right ass cheek, keeping it spread, while the other slid up her side, cupped a breast which was squashed up against the exquisitely cold metal of the pipe. He paused to squeeze and caress the immense orb and then continued his ascent until his hand encircled her throat.

He gripped her there, gentle, not choking or restricting, just holding. Though the throat-hold suddenly tightened, pulling downward a little, as there came a counter movement upwards from his hips. And then there was a wheezing groan punctuating the sudden, firm up-thrust. Tifa felt a searing heat enveloping her within, along with the hard bluntness filling her, even as his cold hips slapped firmly onto the underside of her taut ass cheeks.

A quick and deep thrusting rhythm instigated at once, shunting her again and again against the water pipe, the dry slap of hips against buttocks was all but drowned out by their mutual panting moans. One or two curses of pleasure. A sharp, breathy utterance of a name, that sent responsive shivers of pleasure within both parties. As though the assurance the naming provided was an injection of sexual joy in itself. A high pitched “Cloud!” and a guttural “Tifa…” forming a connection that reinforced the reality of the one enjoying the other.

It was never going to have lasted long, there was too much desire, too much lust and too much erotic friction between the two of them. Cloud thrust faster and harder until he was battering the younger girl, while Tifa drove herself powerfully back onto him, matching his pace and rhythm perfectly.

She forced herself backward slightly, still holding the sword over her head, until only her forearms were against the pipe but the rest of her was free to bounce and shudder freely, well her breasts were, the rest of her was far too taut and finely muscled to do much of anything other than spasm and twitch in sexual gratification. Cloud reached up and filled his hands with her huge breasts again, cupping them from beneath, squeezing them, searching out her diamond-hard nipples with his fingertips and prodding at them.

All the while the strength and athleticism of her body meant that the friction against his driving cock was exquisite from the very beginning and only got better with each singular thrust. So, after barely five minutes inside her, he climaxed heavily, belching cum into her clutching pussy, yelling in pure joy at the feel of it. At the same time, the feel of those multitude white-hot slaps of his pressure-hosing cum erupting violently inside her, launched Tifa into the stratosphere. She climaxed right along with him, her own juices splashing backward even as his were spurting heavily up into her core.

Tifa awoke crying out, in the midst of an orgasm, writhing and shaking even as the dream faded, leaving behind an afterimage of Cloud along with the physical and emotional weight of her real-life climax. She rode it quivering, squealing and dragging at the blankets wrapped around her, until she squirted all over them.

Afterward, while her body cooled and slowed, the thumping waves of pleasure dissipating, Tifa allowed her mind to go over the few leftover memory fragments of the dream. She knew it had been Cloud, she knew they had screwed under the water tower but the real remnants had been the feeling of joy of being in his company, of seeing him grown up and wearing the SOLDIER uniform, and the pride she had felt in his having succeeded in his dream.

More than the joy of the sexual aspect of the dream it was her warm and loving feeling towards Cloud Strife that remained with her beyond it.

Zangan –
He had given himself two weeks to get back to Tifa in time for New Year’s Day and he was looking forward to their reunion greatly, more than he should, he knew. Despite the wrongness of their sexual connection of six months ago, he found he had missed her terribly, her youthful passion, her tenacity, her kindness and thoughtfulness, and yes, her beauty.

His forty or so students spread out in a loose line between Costa Del Sol and Mideel had been working well, and he had not found much that had required his input. They all had the basics down, and plenty of the older students had been working with the younger to help them iron-out little issues and bad habits that had been developing. He had passed on a few techniques to the younger ones that the elders had already mastered. So again, the elder teenage students would be able to help keep the younger ones on the straight and narrow. And he gave a couple of new techniques to the older students for them to practice and promised he would be back with them within a year to see how they were progressing.

His return to the cabin was something Zangan realised he had been greatly looking forward to for a number of weeks. Indeed, he had started to count down the days until the date of departure and on that day, he had found himself unable to keep from smiling. He had begun his return trip Northwest with a spring in his step and a happy song on his lips.

He had remembered Tifa’s birthday too late of course, but was determined to have not missed it completely. So, he had commissioned a world-renowned armourer and weapon seller acquaintance, who had a small house and shop on a finger of land overlooking the coast Northeast of Gongaga village. The commission took the form of the sourcing and construction of a special pair of combat gloves. Which needed to be made from the finest Ark Dragon leather. He had been approaching Costa Del Sol by then and had to make the request by letter, though their long relationship would assure the weapon seller could trust that the bill would be paid on receipt.

He had been very particular about the leather, the size and shaping of the glove and even requested a Materia slot be added to the wrist band. He wanted something fingerless of a lovely mottled chestnut dragon leather with the softest of fur lining on the inside and featuring extra padding at the knuckles, knife and ridge hand points, and the around the heel of the palm. It should be soft textured and artistically beautiful and yet strong, functional and of the highest quality. All in all, a very specific and he believed, challenging project for the weapon seller. Zangan made the assurance that that he would be present no less than a week prior to year’s end to collect and pay.

Now the item, carefully bagged and tied with a pretty pink ribbon, was in his satchel and awaiting his return to the cabin.

He walked through the night and it was still before dawn when he came up on the great lush green of the plains that bordered his own part of the Ancient Forest, though they looked monochrome and dull in the predawn. Still, the proximity had Zangan feeling surprisingly elated and excited, and couldn’t resist jogging a little until he slipped into the edge of the dark forest.

His first hint of coming home besides the animal track pathway through the trees, that looked black against the grey of the forest, was the sound of the stream and the little waterfall. He followed the sound of the flowing water however; it was brightening quickly, the sun broaching the horizon and casting its first rays through the trees. Zangan felt his heart racing.

Then, before he knew it, the sun’s rays were lancing through the trees and colour intensified until it had shifted from predawn to early morning. And he could finally see the clearing through his wooded surroundings. And better yet, the relatively smooth lines of the cabin’s walls. He moved more quickly, using the lightening dawn to safely traverse the uneven ground at a jog. The treeline thinned out more and more with each step until he was jogging across the clearing, the cabin filling his vision. He forced himself to slow to a walk.

With Zangan still only halfway across the clearing, the cabin door swung abruptly inwards. And then there she was, stepping out from the interior shadows, emerging from the frame of the doorway into the glorious spring morning. She was just in her sleepwear, simple white crossover top and tiny loose shorts. Brushing her lush, long brown hair, she was staring up at the brilliant spring morning, with a little half smile playing across her pretty mouth. And then she turned and saw him and the half smile blossomed into a full-on sun-bright beam, her lovely brown eyes capturing every glimmer of morning sunlight and glistening with her brimming tears. Tears of happiness, Zangan hoped.

And then she was in his arms, having launched herself into the air and straight into him, limbs wrapped around him, tears striking his face. And then her lips were on his, simultaneously firm and soft. Six months of pent up desire and loss, loaded and fired in a single moment. She almost bowled him over with her unadulterated passion. It was a passion he had been unprepared for and, he realised too late, had no defence against.

Crushed by her loving embrace, both physically and emotionally, Zangan was taken aback by the obvious expression of her adoration of him, and her very physical response to his return. Though, neither of those reactions compared to how amazing she looked to him. Throughout this last six-months he had tried his best to keep the recent time spent with her in the cabin out of the forefront of his mind. And he had managed to do it to a degree that he had almost forgotten what she looked like now, having spent more time with her as a prepubescent child than a young adult.

However, seeing her in the doorway to his cabin, how she looked. So lovely. Such an equal mix of sweetness and innocent beauty, while sporting a body of wanton sexuality and teeth-grinding desire. Seeing her had bowled him over and left him utterly unable to resist her charms and affections.

There wasn’t even the little sprite-of-conscience in one ear and the devil-sprite in the other, whispering lessons of ethics and hedonism respectively, as he at the very least would have hoped for. He was simply struck blind and dumb by the realness of her, her insurmountable allure, both physical and emotional and he could do nothing about it.

Her tongue pushing into his mouth, the feel of her large, warm breasts crushed against his chest and the taut globes of her perfect ass under his already grasping hands, were more than enough to disconnect conscience and morality. And together tongue kissing and rubbing against each other with a sudden, immeasurable passion, they stumbled blindly into the cabin.

Zangan knew he needed to stop her, to pull her off him, to say that this wasn’t possible. However, his mouth was delightfully full of her tongue, her full lips mashed sweetly against his, and the feel of her strong youthful body pressed firmly against him was just too wonderful a feeling to withdraw from. He felt like an addict, inexplicably drawn to the addiction that was hurting him. Only it wasn’t hurting him at all. It felt wonderful. There was just something disarming about this lovely girl, something he couldn’t fathom that was succeeding to disable his conscience.

He had one last flicker of ethical fortitude, and he tried to lay some mental bricks, a buffer between what he wanted to do and what he needed to do. He gently drew back from their heavy tongue kisses and, not wanting to hurt her like he was certain he had the last time, he gave her his biggest impressed smile and thanked her for the warm welcome.

However, that just encouraged Tifa. She giggled at his jokey words, the first they had exchanged, and her hand was already down at his trousers and was working fast and dexterously at the drawstring. He suddenly realised he already had an erection and before he could protest, his trousers were around his thighs and his hard shaft was gripped tight in her small, strong grasp. And the next thing he knew, she was down on her knees and sucking it into her mouth.

And that was it. The physical joy of it was so intense that he could do nothing except be taken in by the pleasure. The mental bricks vanishing in an instant. He gave into her advances, threw off his gauntlets, grabbed her head in both hands, even enjoying the lush glossy softness of her long straight ebony hair, and thrust deep into her hot mouth.

He wondered about how sweaty he might be, if his shaft tasted rank and unwashed. He had bathed thoroughly at the weapon seller’s place but he had walked and jogged for miles since them. However, Tifa gave no sign of distaste, in fact she was all but gorging herself on his erect shaft.

Her technique seemed to have improved slightly, although short of deep throating him, she was accepting two thirds of his shaft between her pursed lips now. Her tongue was all over the place, laving his shaft with her hot saliva. As though ladling juices over a roast, and finding and tickling his most sensitive areas when her tongue came within proximity. The touches caused delightful little reactive jolts to pop within his loins. And when there was only his swollen crown between her lips, she attacked it with her tongue following its ridges and crests, where the foreskin met the crown, and then in between.

Her sweet, full lips pursed around his driving shaft. The ‘O’ of her tight mouth maintaining a firm caress on the entire length of his erection as he slid in and drew out. There was not the slightest hint of teeth, not once. And all the while there was the suction. Her lips started it with their tight grasp as he thrust between them but her breathing was well-timed with her sucking. She breathed in quickly as he thrust inward between her slick lips. She held it as he hit the deepest point she would allow, three fingers and a thumb encircling the root to keep that last couple of inches outside. And then she sucked hard, her cheeks hollowing as he slid backwards. Finally exhaling when there was only the bloated mushroom of the crown still in her mouth.

He knew her inexperience was partly at work there. She would hyperventilate if she kept that up. Besides, he didn’t want his first climax pumped out all over her tongue. Maybe the third or fourth, not the first. Still, his orgasm wasn’t quite imminent yet and her mouth felt so good on his cock that he let her carry on a while longer.

Tifa released her gently cupping grasp of his heavy testicles and reached down to pull the simple knots that held the front of her sleepwear top closed. And with one hand, and without interrupting her back and forth sucking and bobbing motions, she slipped it off her shoulders. She had to let go of the root of his cock in order to slip her left arm out of its sleeve, and Zangan had to resist the sudden urge to take advantage of her abrupt lack of control and shove those last few inches into her mouth.

It wasn’t that hard to resist, her cared for her and didn’t want her to feel upset and uncomfortable, gagging on his forced-deep throat. Tifa however, did take advantage of having both hands free as she grabbed the waistband of her loose legged shorts and slipped them down her thighs. She dextrously lifted herself, hooked the shorts over her knees and then moved into a crouch and shimmied them down her lower legs and let them pool around her toes.

Zangan took a cue from her and hurriedly worked through the laces and buttons of his waistcoat and the buttons attaching his travelling cloak to his shoulders, then hauled off both items and launched them across the floor out of the way. At the same time, she worked through the laces of his heavy boots then dragged them off his feet, tossed them randomly across the cabin, following his lead.

Both finally naked, he decided it was the cue to move things onward, however much he was enjoying the sensational blowjob. He reached down and hooked Tifa under her arms, both her hands now back on his cock and balls, and gently hauled her too her feet and pulled her hungrily against him.

This time their embrace was much more sexually flavoured, two taut naked bodies sliding together into a tight wanton embrace. Tifa’s hands were still on Zangan’s erection and testicles, cupping and squeezing one gently, squeezing and tugging at the other with much more vigour. While Zangan filled his hands with Tifa’s huge breasts, hefting and squeezing them with his own vigour. He flicked at her stiff nipples with the pads of his thumbs. And once again he filled her mouth with his hungry tongue, their lips mashing together firmly. Tifa was moaning and panting almost continually and that soft, breathy whimpering of her sexual desire was turning Zangan on more and more.

He could feel his heart hammering behind his ribs that he was almost surprised that he couldn’t hear its drum-roll rhythm. And that was entirely due to Tifa. The feel of her cool, smooth flesh pressed tight against him. The hard muscles beneath her soft skin always a surprising dichotomy. His hands bunched in her perky breasts, squeezing hard enough that her bosom was bulging between his spread fingers, and yet his lust was such that he didn’t register the potential to inflict pain. She didn’t respond as if he was hurting her, just the opposite, all the same Zangan was blinded by his own physical desire.

They blindly shuffled toward the bed, still kissing and excitedly fondling each other’s prime, athletic bodies. They fell as one onto the large mattress with its mountain-range of assorted pillows and blankets. They rolled together, their hands all over each other’s bodies, basking in their mutual lust, as well as the physical delights of each other.

Zangan roved over the teenager, kissing and sucking at her nipples, stroking and squeezing her pert, firm buttocks, probing between them. He found her swollen, sticky labia and stroked them, separated them, penetrated the little tunnel between then with a couple of fingers. She mewled like a cat as she was penetrated. He pumped her with two fingers, while his thumb, cocked like the hammer of a gun, stroked in little circles across her engorged clitoris.

All the while Tifa, moaning continually, maintained her vigorous masturbation. Her strength and stamina allowed her to instigate and maintain a quick and strong pace, that made his whole genital area feel like it was engulfed in a fire of physical ecstasy. Though at the moment she was expertly keeping him at a level just beneath the point of concussion.

They ended up with Tifa flat on her back with her thighs spread outside of Zangan’s who was crouching over her, on his elbows and knees. One hand still grasping her breasts, sucking her nipple, while the other was stroking her hips and the side of her ass. Both of hers still caressed his erection and his distended testicles.

They paused there, staring with wide eyed lust at each other, both intimately aware of the position. At first Zangan didn’t know how to proceed, he wanted nothing more than to slide his shaft deep into this stunningly beautiful girl, currently brimming with an intensely erotic vitality. He looked down between them, at her hands still working away on his erection, seeing how close it was to a succulent little pussy, ruddy in its swollen, engorged state, and he could see little sub-climactic tremors passing through her inner thighs.

He couldn’t help but let out a long, hungry and guttural moan at the sight. Then he looked back into her eyes and his heart skipped a beat at the breath-taking beauty of her.

“How I’ve missed you, girl.” He groaned with the deepest appreciation.
“Don’t talk, Zangan. Just take me!” Tifa moaned gutturally.

Even as she spoke, the hand gripping his solid shaft urged him toward her, pressing the hot bloated, thickness of his lust swollen crown up against her soaked pussy entrance.

Zangan needed no more invitation. He pressured the head of his erection forward to that it spread her lips and lodged into the lubricated entrance, and then he thrust home, firm yet smoothly, feeding her his whole, not unimpressive shaft in one hotly energised thrust.

With a throaty and protracted moan, Tifa arched exquisitely beneath him and her large luscious breasts rocked violently around with gelatinous fervour, as her tight young body writhed, reacting as his thrust filled her completely.

Zangan groaned deep at the tightness of her pussy. She was squeezing him like a fist even as she expanded to accommodate his pulsing girth. And for the first time it highlighted the unasked question. Had she been a virgin until that very moment? Was this her very first time? Of course, by then it was too late. First time or not, he was inside her to the hilt, there was no going back. And he couldn’t pull out if he had wanted to. His hips were, to all intents and purposes, working independently of conscious intent, thrusting deep and slow. He relished the damp heat, the fist-tight grasp of her succulent tunnel walls, though her natural lubrication was more than enough to keep the delightful hot friction slippery rather than clinging and dragging.

Tifa was reacting to each thrust as if it was an electric shock, her charged body bucking and quivering beneath him. Her mouth was wide open, eyes screwed shut. And, as if in response to the imagined electric shocks, she appeared to be unable to keep still. She was gyrating and writhing beneath him, her breasts shuddering all over the place. Her stomach palpitating, churning, sucking in and bellying out rapidly. Her hips grinding and rolling. Her thighs were trembling and clenching, calves digging into the backs of his thighs, then kicking up into the air. Then her heels were pressing into his buttocks, urging him deeper. Her hands were no different, grasping everything in sight, pillows, blankets, running through her long loose hair, crushing her breasts, tweaking her nipples. Then she was also running her fingers through Zangan’s long hair, gripping his bulging shoulders, stroking his broad chest, running her short nails up and down his writhing, driving back.

He was completely taken by the sight Tifa was offering, a stunning young woman in the throes of sheer almost-ecstatic pleasure, was utterly enchanting, enticing, intoxicating.

He started down at her, watching those breasts dancing all over her bucking chest, the stiff engorged nipples tracing multiple circles, ellipses, loops of numerous circumferences. Her gorgeous flush-cheeked face was a delight, a fixed expression of near orgasmic bliss. An expression that was so close to pain that, at times, he found himself wondering. There were even trickling tears from beneath the long, dark lashes. Her mouth was either agape or she was chewing on her plump and prominent bottom lip. Her eyes were either squeezed shut or wide open, with a look of something akin to disbelief. Staring up into his eyes or staring down between them at the point their bodies merged.

And then suddenly realising how fast he was thrusting he tried to slow himself, pace himself, wanting it to go on for ever. However, Tifa squealed in response to his deceleration.

“Ohhhh! Don’t stop! …Please! Don’t stop!”

And so, her sweet voice making his heart flutter yet again, he continued his full-on, fast battering-ram pace. And a second or two later, Tifa’s orgasm broke.

Squirming violently as, like the rungs of a ladder, his thrusts drew her up and up and up. All the while she was uttering a staccato of loud, light gasps as if she was fighting for air. The gasping culminated in her squealing his name, a long loud wail.

And then as she burst up to the very pinnacle of her pleasure, she arched off the bed, burying her face into his neck, her mouth clamping on his flesh still gasping out her exultation. Her body jolting with more electric-shock throes of climactic bliss, her hips roiling uncontrollably, ramming back against him in frantic explosive elation.

The delicious performance set Zangan off instantly. He felt the overwhelming build of pleasure and pressure in his pummelling loins and then the next second, punctuated by his loud wheezing groans, his cum erupted. He felt a straining powerful convulsion working through his cock and then the first unleashed spray of his thick, scalding cream burst from his bloated crown, a long drawn out spray, with all the power of some shaken up carbonated drink.

He mindlessly yanked back with his hips and then drove forward again, not even aware that the backward motion actually pulled his shaft right out of Tifa’s throbbing, cum streaming pussy. As he thrust forward again, the momentum of the hard hip-drive made his climaxing flesh lance sway and bounce up between Tifa’s thighs. It was still straining at full mast and lust-elevated to forty-five degrees so, as the second viscous streamer of his orgasmic fluid erupted, it pressured forth in a long, zigzagging pattern reaching from Tifa’s glistening, sparse pubic mound, upward across her hip and stomach, anointing her jiggling breasts and even managing to splatter her throat and cheek.

Still lost in his mindless bliss, Zangan leaned upright, his head thrown back. He barely felt the pressure-release of the third and fourth spurts as they escaped his shaft and hosed vehemently over Tifa. The third unleashed at the apex of one blind mid-air hip thrust and it vaulted up into the air to come splattering down over her face and hair. And he fell forward as the fourth spewed from his loins and that lowered its angle so that it splurged a patterned trail over the tops of her thighs, zigzagging her pubic mound and her flat, still palpitating belly. Then he slumped down into a squat, a hand beside one of Tifa’s spread thighs to support him, to stop him falling full length onto her.

There might have been a blackout moment as the next thing he knew, it was like they were back in time. Zangan crouched over Tifa, once again sucking on her tits with her gripping and tugging his now orgasm-slick shaft. He could taste his cum, its rapidly cooling saltiness, all over her amazing breasts but he didn’t care. And with mild wonder, he realised his shaft was almost back at full mast again. A few more seconds of this girl’s manual teasing and he would be ready for more. Which was apparently what she was going for.

“Again, Zangan! Again!” Tifa gasped, her fist squeezing tightly on his hardened shaft.

Proud of his triumphant, rock-solid cock he leaned down, going straight for her waiting pussy. However, she abruptly sat up, forcing him backwards, as a small hand pressed insistently between his bulging pectorals.

“Wait.” She moaned, pushing back with her hand.

He followed her lead, smoothly allowing himself to roll backwards until he was flat on his back with Tifa clambering up his legs to settle over his solid meat. She had him momentarily trapped, his shaft pinned between his abdominals and the tender, hot crux of her supple thighs. She began rocking, probably subconsciously, back and forth on his shaft. It was a glorious soft and warm masturbation, her free-flowing juices lubricating and smoothing their motions. Zangan grunted at the lovely view he was afforded and his hands reached around behind her and grasped hold of the perfection of her powerful, toned buttocks. He let out a long undulating groan of sensual pleasure.

“Slow this time.” She breathed, seemingly still half-submerged in her own post-orgasmic glow. “Let’s make it last.”
“Go on, girl. You take charge then.”

Her breaths deep and ragged, reflecting her pent-up desire and simmering passion, she elevated herself and took hold of his lance, positioned it blindly between her swollen lips. And then slowly, a half inch at a time, she eased his girth into her again.

She played at it for a while, teasing the both of them, taking him a third of the way in, then lifting herself an inch or two, then descending halfway before sliding back up again. She took it partway down and then all the way up on three or four occasions. It was as if she was experimenting with the tantalising sensation, experiencing it, savouring it, before she finally took him all the way inside her. A long and high, breathy groan slid out from between her slack lips as his solid meat stretched and filled her completely. Her groan juxtaposed and yet complimented a guttural and drawn out groan from Zangan.

She slowly started to ride him, using her hips and thighs in a pseudo-squats exercise, of course, with Tifa’s strength and fitness she could keep this up for hours. Zangan was worried she would do just that but with consideration he realised what a sweet torture it would be.

She also started to experiment with her inner muscles and soon enough she had him twitching and moaning in unmitigated ardour, as his erection was stroked and caressed and squeezed from within her hot core. And that, along with the natural clenching tightness of her youth, was another sweet torture he hoped would last for ever.

He caressed her endlessly with his eyes and his hands, her heavy lidded, slack-mouthed, flush cheeked facial expression engorged his visual pleasure. And along with it, the taut sweat-glowing play of the immaculate muscles of her torso, her inner thighs, throat, and cutely furrowed brow. And the tiny quivers of her breasts and she slowly worked her hips, those tantalising rosy nipples, distended with eroticised fervour. They were perfectly placed high on huge young breasts, that were exemplary in their pertness.

His hands played across her flesh, buttocks and breasts most often but he also used fingertips to caress the smooth ridges and furrows of her abdominals, explored the tensing and softening muscles of her bulging thighs and calves. The sharp inward curve where her ribs swept into her slender waist before bellying out again to the curve of her hips.

She did make it last too. It really was like an experiment for her, she would accelerate until she was bouncing in his cock ten-to-the-dozen. And then, as she recognised that they were both ascending hurriedly towards their mutual peak, she would slow down gradually. She would descend back to the sweet pleasurable pace where their burning loins pulsed with pleasure and yet maintained a stability, which was at once mouth-watering in its sensation and yet mildly frustrating. A delightful intimate picnic in the middle of a raucous party.

“Would it bother you if I turned the other way?” Tifa asked suddenly, slightly apprehensive and breathless.

Zangan smiled, thinking she might be worried she would offend him if she took away his delightful view of her front.

“Not at all, girl. Do whatever you wish.”

A little uncertainly, Tifa considered for a moment and then keeping herself impaled on his pulsating lance she, not quite awkwardly - though not as confidently or gracefully as someone with experience – spun herself around, until she faced his powerful muscular legs. Zangan groaned anew now that he was looking up at the teenager’s lithe, finely muscled back and ass.

And then she started to work her muscle-magic on his shaft again, spending a couple of minutes caressing his erection with her internal muscles, inwardly examining the feel of her experience from the other way around before, once again, she began to ride him. Though this time she used a slow rocking of her hips to propel herself, more a forward and back motion than up and down. Not that it made any difference to Zangan, it was another sweet tantalising caress that had him almost swooning. Plus, his reverse view was in no way compromised. The sheer beauty of her taut springy ass cheeks, the sharp inward curve at the small of her back. And then all the other flexing muscles flanking the concave curve of her spine, and the intimate flex of her shoulder blades, gave him an unequivocally erotic view that was at once different and yet just the same as the front. And it was a view that at any time could be framed or concealed by the wave and toss of her fine silky tresses, bouncing alluringly in time to the rocking motions of her working hips, especially as she began to accelerate her pace.

Zangan reached out and grasped her buttocks, not impeding her own fun or riding pace, just holding on, enjoying their smooth, soft surface texture and the flex and roll of the hard, well defined muscles beneath. He found a thumb incidentally stroking across the hot-to-the-touch pucker of the star shaped mouth of her anus and, remembering her apparent pleasure at him licking at it, he lubricated his thumb with saliva and then used the digit to stroke and caress the tiny entrance. He stayed shy of penetration, not wanting to push her too far too fast, and frankly uncertain of how she would feel about it. Instead he stroked in gentle little circles, that he immediately recognised were bringing out little undulating shivers of pleasure from her. So, he intercut the caresses with a few moments of pressuring the orifice, still staying short of penetrating but teasing the entrance, pushing at it with the pad of his thumb, lightly threatening a possibility of more.

It was enough to switch on Tifa’s eroticism to a fuller extent and, moaning more loudly, she started to increase the speed and ferocity of her riding. And this time Zangan knew she was going to go for broke.

He kept up with her, going along for the ride, and as the cabin was filled with her increasing moans and gasps of quickly rising passion, he started to thrust up to meet her downward strokes. He managed his timing carefully with her own, reading her passions, driving himself ever deeper. While at the same time, her pussy began to clench and undulate around the heavy circumference of his solid cock.

Again, it was the detonation of Tifa’s orgasm that brought his own to fruition. It began as she tipped over the edge, arching herself violently backwards, at the apex of a forceful orgasmic gyration, her hair caressing his palpitating stomach and chest. And then he caught sight once again of her beautiful, shuddering breasts, as she leaned further and further back, giving him a view of her as if from above, her lust-stiffened nipples pointed up at the ceiling. And that was it for him.

This time his heavy load erupted fully inside her, a half-dozen great bursts of thick pressurised fluid, fountaining into her red hot, clutching depths, each one a mini volcanic eruption that seemed to elevate Tifa’s own orgasm to higher and higher peaks.

And she gasped in reaction to each hot, punching spurt, moaning his name over and over as the pure pleasure enraptured her quivering young her body in an erratic, erotic dance of uncontrolled sensual rapture.
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Final Fantasy 7. Tifa Lockhart: Journey to Midgar.