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Summoner's Just Wanna have fun	By : larch Category: Final Fantasy X > Het - Male/Female Views: 1203 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy X, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Yuna pulled herself off and left Seymour to watched dazedly from the floor.

"See?" she chided. "I�m not going to hurt you. That was fun, wasn�t it?"

He didn�t answer. He had no idea what to say. He looked away and sat up.

You stood and started to search for something in the room.

Seymour pulled up his wet underwear and as his hands touched his pants, he felt a mild blow to the head. Not enough to hurt, but enough to severely reprimand.

"I didn�t say we were finished yet," Yuna scolded.

He hung his head, ashamed.

"Look at me."

Reluctantly and forcefully, he slowly turned to look at her. She wasn�t angry, that was a good sign. Although, what she had in mind for the candles she had found disturbed him greatly.

"Take those off," she said, leaning down and kissing him. "I want to watch you touch yourself."

"No, please," he asked, and started to cry violently. He sobbed and tears fell from his eyes almost immediately, running down his face inelegantly compared to the lines of blue that delicately swept down with grace and majesty. Still, he obediently pulled his underwear down. "Anything else."

"What�s wrong?" she asked, cupping his face and wiping at the tears with her thumb.

"Please, I�" he choked. I haven�t��"

"Take it slow," she said, taking his hand and placing it on his groin. She moved his hand up and down over his blue pubic hair in slow circles until his sobs turned into soft moans and his tears had stopped. "See?" You like this. What�s wrong?"

"I haven�t done this for a long time."

"How long?"

"Fifteen years," he said, his eyes still closed.

Slowly her hand left his. "Keep going."

He shuddered, but his hand didn�t stop. He kept stroking through the forest of hair just above his privates.

"It�s hardly good for you to go without an orgasm for that long."

"I was scared."

"Of what?"

"The first time I ever� I ever masturbated," he said, obviously embarrassed at saying the word out loud. "My father caught me. He beat me bloody. I had five broken bones. He just left me on the floor for hours afterwards."

"It won�t hurt, I promise," she said. "Use your other hand on your thigh."

His hand went to his thigh, but he seemed unsure as to what to do. She put her hand on his and led it closer to his genitals. "Right here, slowly stroke up and down, like this� that�s it. Once you can get it up again, put one of your hands there."

He nodded, but he looked as if he were going to cry again.

Seeing him give himself foreplay just reminded her that she hadn�t achieved anything yet and how much she wanted to finish what she�d started. But seeing him almost cry made her eager to keep him from doing so. Tears would take priority over other fluids, and they weren�t fun; you couldn�t do anything with them.

He whimpered, and it wasn�t happily. His breath began to hitch in his throat, and he moaned, but it was mixed with tiny sobs.

She had an idea to solve both problems.

There was already a puddle of sour-smelling liquid on the floor. She sat down and leaned against the furniture, spreading her legs.

"No please!" he screamed as he did as she had told him and he moved a hand from his hair to his hardening cock.

"Seymour," she said, coaxing him out of his nightmare. She slipped a finger inside. "Open your eyes."

He opened his eyes and stared at her. He slowly stroked his hand up and down, still unused to such foreign sensations of pleasure.

She moved her finger around in her open cavity, soon introducing a partner and she pumped in and out of herself. She needed more. This was too little for her and would never give her what she wanted. She watched as Seymour�s breathing sped up, and the chance of tears faded away.

Now that she had his undivided attention, she could move on.

She slipped in a third finger, burying them as deep as she could fit them. Past her cervix, she rubbed and stroked all her secret, most sensuous places, all the while spewing a vast amount of jism on the floor.

His eyes were glued to her, and by now they were more arousing to him than his hands.

She pulled her fingers out and reached for the candles she�d collected earlier. She slid one in gently enough to slide it as far as it would go and prevent tearing.

She pumped the candle in and out, faster and faster until she couldn�t stand it and she grabbed the other candle and slid that one in.

She pumped the candles in and out like pistons, alternating which went deeper. She moved faster, faster, creating quite a mess on the floor in the process.

"Don�t stop," she ordered Seymour, who was getting distracted. "I�m watching you."

He resumed stroking up and down keeping his eyes on her and she pleasured herself with the borrowed candles.

"You�re allowed to make noise," she said, watching him shudder, almost at climax.

"I�ve been taught not to," he said, his hands closing around his cock, as another overwhelming sensation of orgasm swept over him and he shot cum across the floor.

Seeing him hit his peak was just what she needed, and she arched her back against the chair, pushing it on the floor and she came. She released a long moan of pleasure as several consecutive orgasms swept over he body.

She sat there, panting for a while, and finally removed the candles. "You can stilrn trn these." Yuna stood up, replacing her panties before replacing the candles where she�d found them. "You�re exhausted, so that�s enough for today, but don�t put your clothes on just yet."

He sat there, extremely embarrassed and only slightly curious as she�still only in her panties�started to undo the laces and zippers on his boots and tugged them off his feet.

She pulled his pants down over his legs. There was still that skinniness, that hint of having been underfed long enough to leave a mark under his muscular frame. Someone had starved him a long time ago.

He still remembered why she was here, why she could do this. He took a deep and nervous breath, his chest heaving slowly as he did. Looking closely at his defined chest, she noticed lines that were too definite, slight marks that were discolored, vague ridges.

Someone really had beaten him. He had spent all those years, all those hidden years when no one knew his name, no one knew his face being hurt and starved. He had no idea of the concept of pleasure. No wonder something so simple was so amazing, so frightening, to him.

She pulled his pants over his feet in a delicate manner, and then took his underwear all the way down.

"I don�t want you wearing these anymore. They�re too inconvenient," she said, holding up his underwear. "Now you can put your clothes back on."

Seymour grabbed his pans and stood up to put them on.

Yuna used his wet underwear to wipe up the cum from both of them as best she could before tossing them in the trash.

"I won�t tell anyone as long as you come along as my guardian� and you do as I tell you."

"I don�t wish to be hurt, Yuna," Seymour said, lacing up his shoes. "I might find it easier to slit my throat when you�re not looking. Murderer or not, that would make me a martyr."

"As long as you do as you�re told, you won�t be harmed," she said replacing her own clothes now. "That offer still up for spending the night here?"

"Of course."

"Then I can repay you by taking you to dinner. My treat. I think you should change your pants before we leave."
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Summoner's Just Wanna have fun