Unwanted Recognition

Over an hour later, the crew finally worked their way towards the elevator to ascend to floor 64. Cloud's ass was aching, filled to the brim with Chad's seed. And he'd had three orgasms, so his mind was elsewhere as they ran across the other guards. One of them recognized him.

"Cloud? You're Cloud, right?" he said, startled.

"Holy shit!" his partner said, more focused on the giant Black man with a machine gun for an arm. His friend patted him on the shoulder.

"It's cool, bro. We went through training together. Damn! So you still alive and kicking, huh? Some of the guys heard you got smoked, but I told ‘em it was all bullshit! No way Sephiroth would let his favorite bitch get iced."

Cloud reached up, an instant headache triggered by the mention of that name. What? No, he wasn't a bitch ... that other trooper was ... fuck ... he wasn't the bitch, he remembered. Why would they lie about that? Who started such a rumor?

"Hey sit tight man—I'mma go get Kunsel. I'll be right back," his old colleague said. Cloud looked towards the exit.

"Let's ... leave before they come back," he groaned.