Part Two:
One of these rooms has to contain Tifa, Cloud begged, the silken swish of his skirt hurrying down the corridors of Don Corneo's mansion. He flung open doors, finding only gaudily-appointed bedrooms or smoky dens of tattooed thugs playing cards. Lustful, gold-toothed smiles flashed at his half-naked body. He emulated a coy, girly wave, hightailing it before they got... handsy.
How had he let that flower girl talk him into this absurd rescue mission? Infiltrating the Don's abode armed only with frilly lingerie and perfume. It was madness.
He should have backed-out when she was measuring him for the figure-accentuating dress, or when she was applying his make-up.
And he certainly should have backed out before the implants. The more frantic his search became, the higher his tits bounced within their silk cups, and the greater the sloshing in his thick, silicone buttocks. With every step, his thighs rubbed incessantly against the manhood tucked and taped back between his legs.
"There's my little pussycat. Thought you'd play hard to get, did you?" called the voice of Corneo.
Cloud's blood ran cold. He was being stalked, as Corneo homed in on the trail of sexy cologne like an animal stalking its prey.