You stood on slightly unsteady legs, your own body humming with spent pleasure. Your cock, though slick and wet, was still semi-hard. You looked down at her, at the beautiful, creampied alien goddess who had taken everything you had and then asked for more.
A slow, proud smile touched your lips. You adjusted yourself, your erection still prominent, and pushed the cabin door open, stepping out into the cool night air of the heavenly realm.
Your next conquests were already in view. You stopped in your tracks, derailed by how quickly you chose. It was right in front of the glowing arcade tent.
Aerith Gainsborough and Tifa Lockhart. Standing side by side, smiling, laughing, and entirely too perfect for this reality. They weren't dressed like fighters today. They were dressed like summer had handpicked them for fantasy.
Aerith wore a pastel pink bikini with little ruffles along the top, girlish and delicate but still snug against her soft curves. Her hips were wrapped in a light floral sarong that danced in the breeze, and her chestnut hair was tied back in her signature braid, with a small flower tucked behind one ear.
She radiated warmth. Her figure was slender, graceful, almost ethereal, like she'd wandered in from another dimension's fairytale. Her green eyes sparkled under the string lights as she leaned in close to the glass of a claw machine, tongue slightly poking out in concentration.
Tifa, by contrast, was a woman's envy. She wore a black bikini that might as well have been custom-molded to her. Thin straps, perfect cut, deep neckline—her top was doing work, barely containing her famously firm and generous chest. Her abs were tight, toned, lightly glistening, and her legs? Athletic perfection. A black utility belt slung low on her hips—not that she needed it—just made her look even more like a warrior who'd taken a beach day off.
And then there were her boobs, which were, honestly, hypnotic. Not in a cartoonish way, more in the way a man loses his train of thought mid-sentence and walks into traffic.
They hadn't noticed you leave the ferris wheel. Not until Aerith turned with a frustrated sigh, hands on her hips.
"This thing is rigged," Aerith said, pouting adorably at the crane machine. "We've tried like five times."
Tifa followed her gaze, then noticed you. She smiled, and it was equal parts playful and lethal.
"Hey there," Tifa said, raising an arm. "You look like someone who knows how to win prizes! Want to help us!?"
"Oh, wow!" Aerith's first instinct was to glance at your erection. Smiling with mischief, Aerith chimed in, "Please? We're trying to get that moogle plush, but the claw keeps slipping. It's cheating, I swear."
You walked over and Tifa kept waving until you were close enough. "Come on! Help us out, and we'll owe you."
You weren't sure what that meant, but your brain stopped asking questions the moment they both looped their arms through yours.
Aerith on your left, soft and sweet, skin cool against yours, her scent like flowers and sunlight.
Tifa on your right, warm and firm, her arm brushing against your side, every breath she took pressing those against you like a gentle test of will.
You stepped up to the machine, money already in hand—no hesitation. They stood flush to your sides, watching as you took control.
"Alright," you muttered, focused.
"You've got this," Aerith said, encouraging. She rested her chin lightly on your shoulder, and that alone nearly made you drop the joystick. Nearly, because from their perspective, you were as cool as a cucumber.
Tifa leaned in closer, breasts almost on your arm. "You better not choke."
You did not, in fact, choke.
With delicate maneuvering and intense focus—mostly because failure wasn't an option under this kind of pressure—you dropped the claw perfectly. It latched onto the moogle with a soft thump, lifted it smoothly…
And dropped it into the chute.
Both girls gasped in delight.
"You did it!" Aerith squealed, bouncing in place and clapping her hands. "You actually got it!"
Tifa gave you a wide grin, squeezing your arm just a bit.
"Here you are, Aerith," you said, picking the plush up and handing it to Aerith. The brunette accepted it with a smile so bright it could've powered the entire carnival.
"You deserve a reward," she said, gently kissing your cheek.
"Hey, what about me?" Tifa then chuckled. "Just kidding! I'm not into plushies." Tifa instead leaned in and kissed your other cheek. "But I am into dinner. You free?"
"Yes," was the most obvious answer ever. Aerith and Tifa, Tifa and Aerith, the best chicks of Final Fantasy. In what fantasy would you decline their advances?
The two women led you away from the noisy arcade, their arms still linked with yours, a perfect, soft-and-firm sandwich of temptation. They didn't head for the food stalls, but instead toward a quieter, more private pavilion strung with soft, glowing lanterns. A single, linen-draped table for three sat in the center, overlooking the twinkling lights of the carnival below.
"Our table awaits," Aerith chimed in a melody as she finally released your arm. Her fingers still trailed down your bicep in a way that made your pre-cum prickle off your cock.
You sat, the warm night air feeling suddenly heavier and more intimate. The fact that you were completely nude, your erection standing at full attention between you and the table, was not an anomaly here. It was the point. It was the invitation they had both accepted the moment they looped their arms through yours.
Aerith sat from across while Tifa was to your right. The waiter was....
Huh?
"E-Erza...?"
The redhead brought a platter of fruits, cheeses, and a chilled bottle of wine. She gave you a certain look. "Why so surprised? Even I work. I can't stay creampied on the beach forever."
Right. True. But that did that even mean in this world...? Erza was wearing a tight black bunny outfit that only served to show off her slutty nature. From her big boobs, thicc thighs, to her pussy muscles, it was a complete smokeshow. Even her navel was shown. Wearing this, Erza forgoed getting married to a good man with how slutty and erotic this was.
"Trust me ladies," Erza suddenly looked away from you and toward the Final Fantasy duo, "this one is a handful."
Tifa smiled. "Appreciate the warning."
"Now then..."
Erza went over to the next table, leaving you mildly confused and mostly horny.
Still smiling and giggling a little, Tifa filled three glasses. "To new friends," she said, her crimson eyes glinting with a heat that had nothing to do with the summer night. She clinked her glass against yours, her fingers brushing yours, a jolt of simple, electric contact.
"And to skilled hands," Aerith added, her tone lighter but no less charged. She clinked her glass, then took a delicate sip, her gaze dropping pointedly to your lap. Since she was across from you, she couldn't see it under the table. That didn't mean Aerith didn't know.
You took a drink, the juice cool and sweet on your tongue, but it was nothing compared to the sudden, shocking warmth that enveloped your foot under the table. You jumped slightly.
Aerith giggled, a soft, musical sound. "Oh, sorry! My foot must have slipped." Her expression was pure, unadulterated innocence, but the sole of her foot, soft and slightly cool, pressed firmly against your inner calf. It slid upward, achingly slow, a deliberate caress that promised so much more.
"You're jumpy," Tifa observed with a low chuckle. She leaned forward to pluck a strawberry from the platter, and as she did, her magnificent chest pressed fully against your bare arm. It wasn't a brush or an accident. It was a deliberate, smothering, heavenly pressure. The black bikini top was a thin, frustrating barrier between your skin and the soft, heavy weight of her breast. You could feel the firmness of her nipple through the material, a tiny, hard beacon of intent.
"It's a very… stimulating environment," you managed to say, your voice a little rough.
Tifa didn't pull away. Instead, she nestled her arm against yours, trapping it gently. "Is it?" she murmured, her breath warm against your ear. "I hadn't noticed."
Under the table, Aerith's foot had completed its journey. Her toes, nimble and clever, traced the line of your shin, then danced across your thigh. You held your breath.
And then her foot was there.
Aerith didn't just rest it against you. She laid her entire foot along the length of your shaft, her arch cradling you perfectly. The pressure was exquisite and you let out a shaky breath you didn't know you'd been holding.
Aerith smiled at you, green eyes wide and playful as she took another sip of wine. "This is a lovely vintage, don't you think?" she asked conversationally, as if she weren't giving you a footjob under a dinner table.
You could only nod, your world narrowing to two points of contact: the unbelievable softness of Tifa's breast against your arm and the maddening, rhythmic pressure of Aerith's foot.
Tifa watched your face, a smirk playing on her lips. She knew. Of course she knew. She shifted her arm, and the movement made her breast rub against you, a slow, tantalizing grind. "You know," Tifa said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper meant only for you, "Aerith has very talented feet. But I've always been better with my hands."
To prove her point, Tifa's free hand dropped below the tablecloth. You felt her fingers, strong and sure from years of combat, brush against your other thigh. They didn't hesitate. They found your scrotum, and her palm cupped you, a hot, possessive weight. Her thumb stroked a slow, circular pattern over the sensitive skin, a gentle massage that made your cock spurt out a wad of pre-cum.
You were caught in a perfect, devastating pincer movement. Aerith's foot began to move in earnest now, sliding up and down your length with a smooth, practiced rhythm, her toes occasionally curling to apply delicious pressure to the head. Across the table, Aerith leaned in, her floral scent enveloping you.
"Having fun?" Aerith whispered. "Come on, tell us~"
Y-yes! Obviously!
You gasped as Tifa's fingers tightened their hold just slightly, a possessive squeeze that shot a bolt of pure lust straight through you.
"Y-yes...!"
"Good."
Aerith had the smile of the devil.
Tifa's hand began to move in time with Aerith's foot, a synchronized assault on your senses. Her fingers rolled your balls gently, then her fingertips traced the tight seam behind them, making you shudder. Her breath was hot on your neck. "We're not even trying yet," Tifa murmured. "This is just the appetizer."
Aerith's foot paused at the apex of its stroke, her toes pressing down on the sensitive tip of your cock. "The main course is much, much better," she promised.
Your gasp and their comments were lost on you. In the quiet hum of the carnival around your secluded table, it was like nothing else mattered but your pleasured dick. But your ecstasy. Tifa's lips hovered a breath from yours, her crimson eyes holding you captive. The warmth of her body, the possessive grip of her hand under the table, the deft pressure of Aerith's toes on your tip—it was a perfect, exquisite torture.
"Let's start with a kiss," Tifa whispered. It was a husky promise that spoke to your sol and vibrated through your very bones, "then I'll ride you hard right here at the table."
The raw, blatant imagery of her words, combined with the relentless, synchronized ministrations of both women, was the final shove off a cliff you'd been teetering on. Your control shattered.
A hot, blinding wave of pleasure erupted from your core, rushing up your shaft. You came with a strangled groan, your hips bucking involuntarily against Tifa's hand as your release pulsed out onto her fingers and Aerith's arching foot. The intensity was dizzying, a total surrender to their combined will.
"Oh wow!" Aerith blinked, then smirked. "Good!"
Tifa didn't pull back. She held your gaze, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her lips as she felt the hot spill against her palm. A soft, throaty laugh escaped her. "Mm, that was fast~!"
From the other side, Aerith giggled, a sound like chiming bells. Her toes didn't stop. If anything, they pressed down more firmly, milking the last few weak spasms from you, wringing out every last drop until you were shuddering and oversensitive. "Someone was very eager for the main course," Aerith cooed.
You slumped back in your chair, a deep blush heating your face. Should you apologize? Like really, should you? When they intentionally wanted this?
Tifa's smile softened from triumphant to something more genuinely warm. She brought her slick fingers up from under the tablecloth, examining them for a moment before meeting your eyes. "I can see you want to apologize. Don't. We take it as a compliment." She leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "But a mess like this requires a proper cleanup."
Aerith was already sliding from her chair, her floral sarong whispering against the pavement. "Our treat," Aerith said, her green eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and genuine hunger. She disappeared under the table, followed a heartbeat later by Tifa, whose red eyes shot you a final, smoldering look before vanishing beneath the linen.
The world beneath the table was a dim, intimate cave, scented with your cock and the sweet perfume of the two women now kneeling between your legs. You could only look down, your heart hammering anew as you saw them there, two of the most desirable women of Final Fantasy, tending to you.
Aerith went first. Her approach was gentle, exploratory. She nuzzled the inside of your thigh, her soft cheek a contrast to your tense muscle. Then her tongue, pink and quick, darted out. Aerith didn't take you in her mouth, not yet. Instead, she lapped at the spend on your stomach and thighs with kittenish licks, cleaning you with a sweet, diligent focus that was incredibly erotic. Every stroke of her tongue was a tender apology for her earlier teasing.
Tifa's method was entirely different. She was direct, assertive. She took your still-throbbing cock in her hand, not roughly, but with a firm, knowing grip. She stroked it a couple times and commented, "What a nice cock." Smiling, Tifa lowered her head and, without preamble, took the sensitive head into her mouth.
You jerked at the sudden, overwhelming heat and wetness. Tifa's tongue was a marvel. It wasn't the soft, fluttering thing of fantasy; it was a muscle, strong and purposeful. She flattened it against the underside of your shaft and dragged it slowly, firmly, from base to tip, licking away every trace of your climax. Then her lips formed a tight seal and she began to suck, not hard, but with a steady, relentless pressure that made your toes curl. She was reclaiming you, reminding your body who was in charge of its pleasure now.
Aerith, seeing Tifa's work, changed her tactic. She focused her attention lower, her delicate hands cupping your balls, massaging them gently. Then her mouth joined them, and you nearly cried out. Dick-sucking lips AND balls-sucking lips?
It was a fantasy combo. A final trump card.
Where Tifa was firm, Aerith was ethereal. The Cetra didn't so much suckle as she enveloped your nutsack in soft, wet heat, her tongue swirling and fluttering over the left testicle in particular in a way that made your entire body tremble. It was an insanely intimate sensation, her gentle worship a stark, breathtaking contrast to Tifa's skilled deepthroat.
"Mmmph!"
Up and down, up and down. Tifa gobbled up with the head of your cock, dipped down lower, then returned in order to suck you off. It was fast. It was aggressive. It was exactly as you expected from the martial artist. She didn't deepthroat the full thing, she had technique and strategy and love.
Tifa sucked your dick, bobbing and down, because she loved it. She was talented at it. And she wanted you to experience it.
They traded places, a silent, expert switch. Tifa's mouth moved to your balls, her sucking more aggressive, making you gasp, while Aerith took your cock into her own mouth. Her technique was slower and more sensual. She took her time, sinking down on you inch by inch, her green eyes looking up at you from under the table.
"A-Aerith...!"
Unlike Tifa, she'd taken you all, her nose buried at your base. Aerith held you there for a long, breathtaking moment before drawing back with a soft, wet pop.
The final assault was too much. Your cock and balls, already wound up and hypersensitive from your first explosive release, were hurtling toward another climax at an alarming speed. You couldn't stop it. The pleasure built, a tight, urgent coil in your gut, fed by Aerith's sweet, deep throat and Tifa's greedy, possessive mouth.
"I'm… I'm gonna—" you choked out, your hands gripping the edges of the tablecloth.
Tifa released your nutsack with a wet sound and looked up, her smirk visible in the shadows. "Again? So soon?" The sheer pride in her voice as well as the deeper return to suckling your family jewels was your undoing.
Your second orgasm crashed over you. You spilled into Aerith's waiting mouth, your body convulsing under the table as she drank you down, her throat working with soft, swallows. Tifa held your hips steady, her strong hands keeping you grounded as you fell apart for them completely. As you came and came and Aerith devilishly swallowed.
Aerith might not have looked it but she could swallow.
When the last tremor subsided, you were boneless. Aerith released your cock with a final, gentle lick, smiling up at you with glistening lips. Tifa gave your thigh a firm, approving pat.
They began to slide out from under the table, but Tifa paused, her face level with your spent cock. She gave it a thoughtful look, then leaned in and placed one last, soft, claiming kiss on its tip.
"There," Tifa murmured. "All clean." She emerged two seconds after Aerith did, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Both expressions were the same: one of pure, carnal satisfaction.
Tifa began, "Now that the appetizer is truly finished…"
"Wanna head to our hotel room?" Aerith finished.