This is a gift story for Stephy, my little guinea pig. It was written just for her while I was on my hols. I hope she, and everyone else who reads it, enjoys it.
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An Ode to the One I Love.
'How do I compare thee? Let me count the ways.'
The quill pen was struck through the freshly written words with some violence, the page torn from the notepad and scrunched up into a ball, finding itself tossed unceremoniously into the waste paper basket, along with several dozen other such missiles.
Sephiroth sighed and leaned back in his chair, running his slim fingers through his long unbound tresses in frustration. How simple should it be to write a token of love to the object of his affection?
The tall general gazed around the room for inspiration.
Well, that was not surprising really, seeing as how there wasn't anything even slightly romantic to be found in Sephiroths collection of military banners and posters, unless the intended recipient of his ardent epistle liked looking at tanks and weapons.
A smirk played upon the silver haired mans features, as he thought of a weapon that he wanted to introduce to the boy.
Oh yes, he wanted nothing more than to penetrate that delicate little body with his own long, hard as steel, private weapon.
Squirming in his seat, Sephiroth adjusted himself as a knock resounded upon his door.
"Enter," he called out, casting a glance down towards his groin to ensure his budding erection wasn't too prominent. Satisfied, he looked up to stare at his second in command, Zack Fair, who stood there before him with a quizzical look upon his face.
"You having trouble writing a report, Seph? Or is it your intention in life to bankrupt Shin-Ra by waste paper usage alone?"
With a laugh, and without waiting to be asked to do so, the dark haired man took a seat opposite the general and made himself comfortable.
"How do you write a damn letter to someone you fancy?" Sephiroth demanded of him.
"Well, first of all, you might want to try being in a better mood," Zack replied, trying to keep the sound of surprise out of his voice.
Sephiroth looked at him questionably, a silver brow arching upwards.
"What I mean is….if you're saying the word 'damn' in the same sentence as 'fancy', that says to me that you're in a bad mood. And your mood will reflect in whatever words you try to write down," Zack explained.
"I'm in a bad mood Zack, because I can't think of any words to say," Sephiroth rebuffed.
"And you're obviously frustrated, annoyed, angry and bitter. All that comes across as plain as day to me, Seph. Think how it will read to the person you send the letter to."
"I am not……."
Sephiroth bit his tongue. He was not going to let Zack provoke him.
"I am not angry, or annoyed," he said, trying his hardest to keep his voice level, keep it calm. "I'm just trying to get the letter to say exactly what I feel for this person."
"Then listen to me. I know what I'm talking about," Zack replied. "Am I not the most laid man you know?"
Both men laughed, and Zack leaned forward in his seat, warming to his favourite subject.
"Listen Seph, to write a good love letter, you have to be…..well, in the mood for love. You have to make your body and your mind relax. Have a warm soothing bath, walk around your rooms in the buff, let your body be free. Have a drink or two to release your mind from the daily stresses. Take a look at the bed and imagine the object of your desires laying there passively and willingly, just waiting for you to spread open their legs and take your place before them. When you have that image in your mind, grab your pen and paper and write down in descriptive detail, all that this person brings out in you, such as the way you think about him constantly….."
Here Zack broke off and paused momentarily to ascertain that it was indeed a male that had caught his friend's attention. A simple small nod and Zack continued.
"…about the way this man makes your body react towards him. Of how you can't eat, sleep or breathe without him being on your mind all the time. Imagine to yourself as you're writing what you would like to do to his body as he lays passive beneath you, and then, instead of keeping those thoughts to yourself, write them down in the letter too. Don't just think it…..Ink it!"
For a moment, Zack laughed at his own humorous quip, but not for long, not when he saw the still serious expression on the general's perplexed face, as Sephiroth continued to stare vacantly at the new sheet of blank paper on the notepad.
Zack stood up and patted his friend on the shoulder.
"I'll leave you alone to get on with it. I can tell this is important to you."
He made his way towards the door, pausing to look back when he had opened it.
"Like I said Seph, try a bath. Get yourself in the mood for loving. The creative juices will soon start to flow. By the way, who is it, that's caught your eye?"
"A little cadet," Sephiroth replied. "A little cadet by the name of Cloud Strife."
"Oh, I know the one. Big blue eyes. Weird blond hair. And with an ass to kill for," Zack remarked.
"That's the one," Sephiroth confirmed.
"Cute. Good choice!"
An hour later found an exasperated general laying back in a bathtub full of warm scented water. The pleasing aroma of the oils he had added seemed to be doing nothing for him. All he was concerned about was how pruned and wrinkly his hands were becoming.
Testing his own endurance, Sephiroth tolerated the water torture for five minutes more, before giving up and pulling the plug.
Stepping from the bathtub, he tried to follow Zack's next line of advice.
Using a towel only to blot off the excess water on his body, Sephiroth proceeded to move around his apartment naked. He felt slightly silly pacing up and down the room, waiting for inspiration to strike.
"Zack and his stupid ideals," he fumed, finally conceding and throwing a black silk robe around his shoulders. He hadn't been able to think of anything, except how ridiculous he looked and felt. If the boy were to see him like this, naked and pacing, what on earth would he think?
His thoughts now on the cadet, Sephiroth found his eyes roaming towards the large king size bed in the room, and he was quite surprised to find he actually could picture all that he hoped would take place there.
He could see himself taking the boy by the hand, and leading him towards the bed, stripping him of his clothing slowly, stripping himself equally as slowly as they kissed and tumbled onto the covers.
Sephiroth saw himself using his tongue, starting at the blonde's toes, and working his way up the young tender body, taking little nips and bites of flesh along the way, provoking the boy to cry and call out for mercy.
Once at the boys mid section, Sephiroth would continue with his kisses, worshipping the little cadet orally. The teenager's sensitive cock would be jutted out away from his smooth, flat stomach, and Sephiroth would take all of its length inside his mouth and throat, swallowing it down and waiting more.
But Sephiroth wouldn't be so greedy as to suck the boy dry. No. He wanted their first climax together to be simultaneous. So while sucking the tasty morsel of hard muscle, Sephiroths fingers would be busy pushing and opening the small tight puckered eyelet of the boy's ass ring, stretching and opening inside of him, preparing him for the well endowed cock that was about to pound into him.
Lubing up, Sephiroth would turn the boy onto his hands and knees, and he would prise apart the virginal ass cheeks. Then, placing his mushroom domed cock head at the boys willing entrance, Sephiroth would proceed to push forward.
Little by little, an inch at a time, he could see himself enter the boys body, the tightness enclosing and gripping at Sephiroth as the soft, hot channel adapted to the erect girth that plummeted its dark depths as he sank into the boy, embedding his large cock in its entirety.
Like a flash out of the blue, Sephiroth was suddenly struck with the inspiration he craved and, quickly reaching forward lest this new found motivation slipped away from him, he grabbed the pen and paper and finally wrote his missive to the boy.
Cloud Strife, I want to shag your brains out. Meet me tonight in my room, seven thirty. That is an order.