You are Uzumaki Naruko, the greatest kunoichi the Village Hidden in the Leaves has ever seen! Believe it!

(No, seriously, please, believe it. It is pretty sad that you only managed to graduate the Academy because you accidentally stumbled upon the world’s most incompetent traitor’s plot. You know you are the bestest thing ever, but it would be nice if the world at large gave you a hint that indeed you are, every now and then.)

Anyway, you are an independent young woman who knows what she wants (and that includes all that ramen you threw away, Sasuke) and are currently in the process of securing one of said wants.

Namely, to cum your brains out.

Yes. You have brains. Shut up, Sasuke.

In fact, said brains are currently engaging in a vital part of the process of achieving an orgasm: fantasizing. Because not everybody has the fucking eyes of make-my-inner-world-reality. You are sure the Bastard spends half his time in front of his mirror, hypnotizing himself into a debauched orgy, surrounded by the nubile bodies of all your classmates draping themselves over his naked, well-toned torso… One of them surely is kneeling in front of him, her lips slowly parting in eager anticipation as he lightly holds your twin tails and draws you ever closer to his manhood and—

Abort! Abort! Sage dammit, you must be even hornier than you thought if you are self-inserting into his own depraved fantasies (even if he somehow looked quite gallant when he decidedly stood by you against what seemed like the whole village when he took you out for dinner…).

Anyway, yeah, you are sure he spends half his life in front of a mirror, slowly taking his shirt off and even flexing his sculpted chest as he ever-so-carefully combs his hair into that studiously effortless-looking style he favors that drapes half his face in shadow that never quite manages to dull his sharp eyes, eyes that always seem to stare right through you, as if he could always see the orphan hiding behind—

Aaaaand you are touching yourself. Dammit, better get down to business.

Properly.

You lie down a towel over your sheets (sometimes things can get messy), strip out of your undershirt, sports bra, and panties, and close your eyes, carefully rehashing an old classic that always manages to get the job done as you let your fingers start tracing the soft lines of your body.

Iruka has managed to corner you in the forest near the Academy grounds after you let him catch you trapping his desk drawer with an itching powder bomb (because you are a master of stealth and subterfuge, and, obviously, would never get caught unless on purpose—heck, you stole a technique from the Hokage himself, that has to count for something!). He looks furious, his big, strong hands clawing at his body as he glares at you.

“Naruko! This time you have gone too far! I will have to punish you!”

You fake nervousness as you bite down on your lower lip and wiggle your hips. “But Iruka-sensei, I am innocent!”

“Ha! Nobody other than you would have managed to infiltrate the defenses of the teacher’s room with such a mastery of tactics as to trap my own desk! Give it up, Naruko; there’s no way you are getting out of this without a punishment.”

Your eyes widen as if surprised by his deductive leap—men like to have their ego stroked, right?—and you gasp in surprise. “Oh, wow, you are so smart to think of that, Iruka-sensei. Whatever will you do to me?”

His chest puffs up a bit with pride, and it seems like he’s going to make a proclamation, but then he interrupts himself to scratch behind his shoulder. “First of all… do you have an antidote?”

Feigning reluctance, you proffer a vial of soothing lotion. “Yeah, I guess that’s fair, only… well, the powder will remain in your clothes. You should remove them.”

Oh, yeah, this is about to get good. You experimentally tweak your hardening nipples, but maybe it’s too soon for that much stimulation. With a contented sigh, you drag your fingertips down your sternum, nearing your belly before circling them around your breasts. Hmmm…

“Well, if you say so.”

Without further ado, Iruka-sensei starts taking off his chuunin vest without any hurry, the blue fabric underneath doing wonderful things to showcase his chiseled chest as he twists his body and lets the garment fall to the ground. His roguish ponytail sways with his sensual, deliberate motions as light glitters off his forehead protector (oh yeah, you can leave your hitai-ate on, you naughty, naughty sensei), and then he veeery slowly starts lowering his zipper, revealing tanned, rough skin that would feel oh so wonderful scratching against your—

“Naruko? What are you waiting for?”

Uh?

“Uh?”

“You are the one being punished. It would be weird if I was the only one getting naked, given the circumstances.”

Your breath catches in your throat. That’s not how you usually take this fantasy, but… well, you are the number-one surprising kunoichi! You can adapt to anything! Even to surprising yourself!

At least, in the security of your own bedroom, with the lights out, the blinds down, and the drapes closed. Yeah, you think with these provisions you can adapt to a slight change in your favorite fantasy.

Hopefully.

With a slight trepidation and a rising heat in your chest that is part anticipation and part embarrassment (It’s a fantasy! You can be bold in a fantasy! Believe it!), you allow yourself to follow the new scenario.

With fingers that do not tremble in fear of rejection because you are a strong, independent kunoichi who is very sure of her appeal and knows she is perfectly desirable, thank-you-very-much, you start undoing your orange jacket as Iruka sensei seems to nonchalantly take your strip show in stride. You are slightly miffed at his imperviousness to your charm, so you make sure to exaggerate the sway of your hips as you playfully lower your tracksuit pants and turn your back to him before shimmying out of your undershirt. You are now standing in the middle of the forest, showing your underwear-clad body to Iruka sensei, feeling completely exposed.

“Keep going. We don’t have all day.”

You almost ask him what he means, but you manage to swallow your words (and a nervous lump) before, without any of your previous swagger, you take off your bra.

“Naruko…”

His voice seems oddly admonishing, like that time you sabotaged explosive-tag safety practice day with crazy glue (you still think he overreacted—fingertips grow back!), and you can only nod, your back still turned, as you bend down and slide your panties down your legs, only realizing far too late the kind of show you just gave him.

You take a deep breath. All right. This is hot. You can work with this. You brace yourself for the ride about to come (this fantasy seems to have taken on a life of its own, and you are not even sure about what will happen next) and grab your left breast with maybe a little bit more strength than you are used to as your right starts her perilous travel southward.

You stand there, a part of you afraid to even move, to say anything, to draw Iruka’s attention to your body (your wonderful body that you have nothing—nothing—to feel inadequate about, no matter what the other girls say—least of all that cow-titted bitch, Ryoko). The very air seems charged with anticipation.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

The rough voice of the older man cracks against your ears, and you almost jump in fright as you turn toward him. He is naked. Very naked.

Oh so naked.

The scar that seems to underline his eyes is not the only one to decorate his body, puckered lines of white skin almost acting as highlights of the tanned, well-muscled frame of the veteran warrior. It is a hard body, made of training and battle, and you can’t help but imagine how it would feel pressed against your own—toned yet soft, still untested. You know your body would yield, mold against his, your curves flattening when he held you in his embrace, and then, as you lower your eyes in your inspection you—

Oh.

Well, Iruka’s dolphin is certainly-

*gulp*

All right, pause. Stop. This is important.

What the Hell?!

Are—are penises like… like that? All red and purple and throbbing and certainly too wide to comfortably fit where two fingers seem like they could cause serious harm—

Pause. Deep breaths.

Well, maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. This is a fantasy, so you shouldn’t take any details as anything particularly illuminating, but it’s just… so…

Oh, my… Well, you better go back to the action. It would be rude to keep Iruka waiting any longer.

(That, and your towel will only be able to drain so much.)

Your long-time teacher seems to have taken your fascination with his member as an invitation to step forward, and you only realize you are backing away when you feel your soft derriere pressing against rough bark. As he finally reaches you, a gentle hand reaches up towards your face in a slow, deliberate movement and—

Ow!

“Hey! Iruka, you jerk, what’s the big idea?” He doesn’t answer as his pull on your pigtails strengthens, and you have little choice but to follow his direction, turning around and bending over, grasping at the tree trunk with both hands to keep your balance.

“What—what are you gonna…” your voice trails off as the chuunin keeps his grasp on you as his free hand raises ominously above your shapely (It is shapely! That only means it has a shape! Which it does!) behind. Iruka holds your gaze with his own, no less yielding than his grip on your hair, and, with a sense of finality, strikes your bottom with a resounding crack.

Hn!

You are biting your lip to avoid moaning out loud, the phantom sensation of the reverberating strike traveling through your body as you grip your breast with far more strength than you are used to. It’s almost like you heard the slap, and what you most definitely felt was the clenching of your… well. You know.

You most definitely know.

Back in the clearing, you are gasping in incredulity and barely held arousal as Iruka keeps staring at you—through you—without any word. He raises his hand once again—

“Wait!”

And he lowers it. With double the strength.

You let out a cry that has very little to do with pain and far more with the wetness suddenly running down the inside of your thighs. You don’t think you came, but the mere fact that you had to ask yourself whether you did is enough to give you pause. Iruka, on the other hand, raises his hand (obviously) once again. It doesn’t look like he has been given pause. Nor mercy.

The third slap makes you gasp and clench your thighs. Being so exposed, so utterly under Iruka’s control, seeing the play of his muscles under scarred skin as he, once again, readies a blow to your vulnerable posterior…

There’s a fourth smack. A few tears stream down whiskered cheeks, even if there’s not much pain yet. You have just been overwhelmed by sensation. By feeling.

And then there’s a fifth blow. And your eyes roll back. It’s much stronger than the previous one, the echo of the impact resounding through your body, bouncing around your head with a mind-blanking intensity that pounds against your sanity like your rushing pulse against your ears. So much so, in fact, that you could swear there’s a second explosion just after the slap. A second, extremely familiar explosion that—

Wait just a Sagedamned second…

Your vision finally clears enough to look back at Iruka just in time to see the smoke of a dispelling jutsu. A transformation jutsu. A fucking henge.

And the bloody Bastard is standing right there! Fucking Sasuke!

(Phrasing.)

The hand which had been steadily inching down your flat, trembling tummy toward your needy lower lips freezes in its tracks. What the fuck are you fantasizing about?!

So, Sasuke had henged himself into Iruka to trick you into letting yourself be punished by him? Only to get too into things and accidentally dispel his henge, thus revealing the plot when you both are already naked and far too aroused to stop whatever is going on? Is this an accurate summary of the situation?

Fuck. All right, you are pretty sure that half of your graduating class would have creamed themselves with this scenario (the other half is a more uncertain guess, allowing for people whose unrefined tastes don’t appreciate older gentlemen or some presumably heterosexual males—far too many mesh t-shirts and short shorts for there to be that many of those) but the problem is that this is Sasuke. The Bastard. Your Bastard.

(Not literally. You are far too young to have ever been pregnant, no matter what some loud-mouthed, gossipy, itching-for-a-training-kunai-accident bitch may say, Naru.)

Wouldn’t things get weird between the two of you? It’s not like you have so many friends you can afford to let something like sexual… weirdness get between you and your co-orphan, fucked-up-in-the-head, life-long rival. And, well, this is…

On the other hand (the one that has yet to stop twisting your nipple with just a bit more force than usual, now that you think of it), fantasizing is just… well, supposed to be harmless, isn’t it? Something that happens in the privacy of your own mind, with no real-life repercussions? It’s not like your plentiful, gory murders of the grocery store owner have ever had any kind of impact.

You think.

He has been limping a lot lately, hasn’t he?

Anyway, you actually can admit that, under the right light, and if there were no consequences at all, the Bastard could be… ugh… attractive.

Fine, maybe you should try to get it out of your system. Stopping now would only bring it to mind the next time you saw him, maybe after a friendly spar that got too intense, with the both of you panting and sweating on the ground after he—

Moving on!

“Sasuke?!” you say, your legs still quivering from his last extra-explosive spank in which no fingertips were lost.

You think.

A brief moment of worry makes you look down at his hand to check for any Naru-like injuries, but thankfully—but! Sadly, the Bastard is perfectly all right.

And very naked.

Like… as naked as his Iruka-henge was? Yeah.

About that naked.

“See something you like?” he asks with his usual infuriating grin. The one he tends to use when he beats you in a spar, wrestling you to the ground, his masculine body on top of yours, the toned, hard muscle pressing against your breasts until your eyelids… most definitely don’t flutter!

Believe it!

(Pretty please.)

“As if!” you finally answer him, your usual wit not-at-all impaired by the shivers still running through your body as you barely manage to hold yourself against the tree in front of you while plenty of juices keep running down your inner thighs despite the fact that it’s not Iruka behind you, grabbing your hip with his left hand as his right—

“What the Hell are you doing?!” you very reasonably demand of the guy jer—jack—touching his dick.

“Making sure you enjoy this,” he answers with yet another cocky grin.

Heh.

Cocky.

… Wait, not the time!

“Sasuke, stop!” you manage to demand despite your body quivering and shaking, your fingers all but clawing at the tree’s bark, your something-behind-your-navel clenching.

“Why?” he asks with a furrowed brow that displays… actual confusion.

Because of course the jerk wouldn’t understand that at least some girls don’t want to get down on their knees and suck the marrow out of his bones through his actually pretty thick cock that would stretch your lips around it just right before the twirled your twin tails around his wrists and pulled—

“Because!” you say before your traitorous, possibly compromised by reality-fucking eyes, brain goes a step too far. “It’s—I am… You know…”

You are blushing.

You are still recovering from a body-shaking orgasm, running a high risk of dehydration while your life-long rival strokes something vividly red and purple while gently caressing the side of your left hip, and you’re blushing.

…

You’re also, for reasons beyond your understanding, not running away.

Or, you know, stabbing him in the balls.

“A virgin?” he finally says, not unkindly.

For, you know, his standards.

His very low standards.

Regarding kindness! It’s obvious that he has very high standards when it comes to women, seeing as he has gone to all this trouble to get you alone, naked, and shivering in the middle of a deserted forest, far away from anybody who could ever hear you scream for help.

And that last line shouldn’t have made you hornier!

“Yes. That,” you say with a nod that ends up with you dropping your head down between your stretched arms, losing eye contact as you look down at his legs behind you, past your hanging breasts and your still open thighs.

Legs that reposition slightly as he bends over your back, his toned chest pressing down on your shoulder blades, his mouth by the side of your left ear, the heat trapped between your bodies making you roll your eyes back.

“Not for long,” he growls.

And presses forward.

“Ah!” you gasp, halfway to screaming, as you twirl your pointer finger around your clitoris harder than usual, the whole scene looping back to Sasuke saying that line over and over as your toes curl and you imagine all the ways this voice would grow feral, harsher than when you fight, as his cock would get harder before pushing…

…

Well, there’s precisely one place where it should push, isn’t there?

You are… kind of nervous about it. You have never before crossed that particular line, seeing as touching your completely normal body that isn’t begging to be reamed by a pack of Inuzuka nin-dogs, Motoko, has always been responsive enough with just touching over rather than inside.

You can cum your brains out by groping your breasts and pussy without being a harlot who should drop out of the Ninja Academy to work in the Red Light district, thank you very much!

So, well…

Yeah.

You… You feel good. Very good. Your breast is tingling in all the right ways, and your clit is about as hard as your nipple, demanding attention in that way it does those times when your towel really ends up needing a good washing.

So.

It’s… kinda scary.

But you’re the number one surprising ninja of the Village Hidden in the Leaves—which sounds like the most flammable hidden village ever—and fear means nothing to you!

Nothing!

And no, that isn’t due to your underdeveloped vocabulary, Haruka!

So…

Well…

Licking your suddenly dry lips, which may as well be the only dry part of your body by this point, you gently slide down and over your other, quite the opposite of dry, lips, the rough callouses caused by kunai handling catching on your outer folds for a brief moment that sends a nipple-tingling shudder up the front of your body.

Your clitoris is trapped in the space between your fingers.

And your eyes are rolling back.

You make an effort to look up at the off-white ceiling, your gasping breath making your head move over your pillow as your left hand gets rougher and rougher with your breast, and then…

Well, you don’t take the plunge.

Because it’s still scary, and you’re sensitive enough to know that being rough down there will put a quick end to today’s session and make you want to stab a bitch all through tomorrow due to your ladybits-affected mood.

So you’re gentle.

As gentle as you’re supposed to be when sabotaging explosive tags with crazy glue.

You dip your two fingertips against your lower opening and feel your body yield, the flesh below beating against you even as you find the ring of tight muscle hidden under your wet folds like a flammable village waiting for a very good arson—and that image is doing nothing for you.

So you go back to Sasuka’s voice in your ear, the heat of his body trapped against you, his chest on your back.

His cock’s head pressed against you. Just as your fingers are.

And, in a moment of clarity, you decide to go with one finger.

It’s more than enough.

“Fuck!”

You… you don’t know what else to say.

It just… It just slips right in, your middle finger making a sudden, wet noise as you seem to swallow it, to pulse around it, to…

To almost cum.

It’s… it’s not like it feels better than your clitoris; it’s just that it feels different. That the feeling of your flesh sucking you in is completely new, and it’s caught you off guard in a way you didn’t expect.

Par for the course for the most surprising ninja ever, of course.

Maybe you should stop surprising yourself, though. That’s already twice today, but…

But, well, the third time’s the charm, isn’t it?

No, Mitsune, you don’t need to buy charms to get a boyfriend. Have you seen this body—

And your thoughts about bitchy, scheming, greedy former classmates get entirely derailed when you pull.

Something sparks behind your eyelids.

You gasp.

And you plunge right back.

Which… may not have been your bestest idea ever.

Hissing, you decide to proceed with a bit more caution as you carefully extract your middle finger from between your folds and very carefully do not think about the glaring lack of hymen that your Health Ed for Kunoichi classes told you would not likely be there after a lifetime of violent stretches.

Then… Then you once more push your finger in.

And Sasuke’s voice comes back.

“I am going to take you, you know? Life-long rivals? Don’t make me laugh: you’re just mine,” he says.

And you want to yell at him.

Punch his perfectly chiseled jawline.

Insult him.

What you end up doing is mewling as his cock pushes harder against your opening, still not going in, only making you feel his heat and hardness on your folds that seem all too eager to part for him.

“Sa… Sasuke… I…”

You don’t know how to continue.

It’s… Years. Years fighting and arguing over the stupidest bullshit when you sometimes only wanted a hug.

When you knew he needed a hug.

And now he’s here, with you, in this forest. Away from any witnesses.

About to take your first time.

“Yes?” he says, drawing out the syllable as his hand slides down from your hip to your belly, his palm flat against it, filling you with a warmth that is not that different from the one boiling inside of you.

Gentler, though.

It’s a… gentler warmth.

“I… We shouldn’t—”

He cuts you off with a thrust that makes you almost yield, your words turning into a whimper as your eyelids flutter and your breasts shake under you.

You force yourself to look back. To raise your head to meet his eyes.

He’s… In front of you. Close.

So close.

Closer than he’s ever been, even if you’ve already been this close while wrestling together.

Training together.

He was the only one who always took you on rather than dismiss you.

“Why?” he asks, his voice no longer a growl, but still raspy, and…

And you kiss him.

Stooooooooooop!

Wait, wait, wait! This is not good! This is most definitely not what you would do in that situation! Yes, you’ve already kiss—you’ve already been pushed into kissing him while you were manly staring him down right before team assignments, but this isn’t… This is still your first real kiss! The one that counts!

… Inside your head.

In a fantasy.

That you just decided was a safe place for you to… explore.

So… Okay. This. This doesn’t count. Like your plentiful murders of uppity peddlers of expired milk, this is something that is happening inside the privacy of your own head and thus doesn’t count.

Even if said peddler is limping in a somewhat concerning manner as of late.

Right.

Imagination.

It’s a thing.

And… And you can imagine his lips brushing against yours like they did that first time, but gentler, just… just pushing on you a touch more delicate than that of your middle finger resting inside you, barely flexing to hook on that roughish spot that you have found just below your navel.

You can fantasize about Sasuke being gentle with you.

It’s… safe. Something nobody will ever know about. Something they can’t tease you over.

And, unlike all those fangirls of his…

Well, you know what his lips actually taste like.

Sooo…

Take that, Shinobu.

It’s everything you ever wanted, if you’d ever wanted this.

He isn’t surprised by your kiss. No: he’s receptive.

And then he takes charge.

He pushes back against you, the hand on your belly crawling up to cross your body before grasping your right breast, his fingers digging into your flesh with more strength than you ever have yourself, your stiff nipple on his palm making you gasp.

And he, like he always does, takes the first hint of an opening.

His wet tongue slides past your lips, and it’s more intense than you ever imagined sucking a cock would be. It’s… soft yet strong, like some kind of taijutsu metaphor bullshit, and he drags the point of it over your own tongue before retreating.

And then coming back in.

His warm breath tickles you, and you are lost in the sensations of his lips on yours, his cock pushing without going in, his fingers reshaping your breast into something more to his liking.

His tongue going in and out.

And then you get the hint.

So, the next time he retreats, you follow.

His mouth is… Warm. Wet. Like yours but not.

And you explore.

Your tongues twirl around one another, but that sends you across the inside of his cheeks, under the rough palate, behind teeth that feel very weird until you remember they aren’t your teeth.

You are breathing very fast.

And then he pulls away.

You open your eyes, almost ready to beg for more, to ask why he would deprive you of something like this right after showing you what it feels like to be so accepted, so wanted, and…

And the sharingan stares back.

Red eyes with a single tomoe look into yours, and you know he’s memorizing how you look in this moment in a way that won’t ever fade until the day he dies.

You shudder, and you only suspect why.

“Mine,” he says. “You are mine, Naruko. And it’s about time you realized it.”

His cock pulses against you.

And you push back.

Your finger is quickly going in and out of your body, the sides of your neck burning with a flush that reaches up to your forehead and down to your erect nipples.

You think about all the ways in which you would tell him to fuck off. That you aren’t anyone’s, much less his. That, if anything, he’s yours.

Your rival.

Your Bastard.

But… But maybe you could be as his as he’s yours? There’s… there’s nothing saying that can’t happen—other than it most definitely not going to happen! This is just a fantasy! A fantasy running out of control that you could stop at any point.

In fact, you could stop all this right now!

…

You aren’t going to, though.

He doesn’t push back.

He just keeps holding you, massaging your breast more gently now as he keeps looking at you with crimson eyes.

Engraving in his perfect memory how you are giving your virginity to him.

You heart races, and you feel lightheaded enough to remember one of Iruka’s breathing exercises, the ones that were supposed to help with chakra control and calm you down when you felt the urge to jump out of your seat during one of the excruciatingly boring lectures in the Academy.

You can’t do it.

You can’t do anything other than desperately take in as much air as you can while spinning eyes stare right through you, past your enthusiasm and bluster, and into the girl under all of it.

The girl pushing back against a hard cock that is slowly spreading her open.

“Does it hurt?” he asks with a concern you’ve only seen when something went very wrong, and you bled on the training field.

Or before black eyes turned crimson for the first time.

“You… don’t flatter yourself,” you say, grinning at him with a pretty good imitation of his own infuriatingly cocky smirk.

He returns it.

And he pushes.

Your eyes roll back as you finally feel it, the soft flesh of his cockhead pressed against you until the steel-hard core of it goes past your tight opening.

You yield.

It’s marvelous.

You almost cum right there and then, just by having the very tip of his member inside of you, far thicker than your finger, fitting in a way that you could never replicate by yourself as sweat runs down your back, dews on your breasts, and you feel the urge to let your head hang down between your stretched arms.

And everything around you becomes more and less real.

You… You can feel the cool breeze blowing over the lonely, pointed nipple that isn’t covered by a hand even rougher than your own. The crunching, dry leaves under your bare toes. The bark on your palms that you’re digging your nails into.

The smell of the forest is more vivid than ever, flooding your senses as you feel something in you tug at them to make them sharper as thin, red light washes over your skin.

But none of that is even remotely as intense as Sasuke.

Sasuke staring into your eyes, his fingers kneading your heavy breast, his chest on your back, his powerful legs against yours.

His cock inside of you.

It’s warm. Hot.

Delicious.

“Sasuke…” you say, not even knowing why. “More.”

And he gives it to you.

His cock slides deeper inside you, and you feel it reach past where you once did, lonely masturbating on top of your bed, thinking about what you could never have.

But you do.

You have it.

In this very moment, you have everything those bullying bitches back at the Academy always craved for.

You couldn’t care less about them.

What you care about? It’s the warmth.

The… The reassuring weight of his body on yours. The pressure sliding deeper inside, showing you parts of yourself you had yet to discover, teaching you just how much he can give you.

“More…” you whisper once again.

And he kisses you.

His tongue gently slides past your lips as he retreats from inside of you, your moaning protest swallowed by his greedy mouth as he sucks your tongue in, and you get lost in your dueling dance, twirling around him, tasting him, smelling him, touching him.

So you push back.

He stops for a moment, surprised (heh) by your initiative as you go back to taking in as much as he just gave you before he reverses his course, and now there’s more, all that you yearned for, that you demanded of him with a needy, insecure whisper.

That he wants to give you.

And that… that is enough.

That is enough for a spark to shoot off from around lower lips stretched by his thick cock, the light growing brighter and warmer as it travels up your body, burning on your pointed nipples, tracing blazing lines up your neck, and finally exploding behind your eyes.

You sag, your nails scratching the bark of the tree as you fall forward.

But he holds you up.

His lips never leave yours, his hand presses up on your chest, and his hard cock remains inside of you.

So, you keep standing up.

Because Sasuke wants you to.

Your finger plunges as deep as it can reach, going faster every time you take it out, dragging the absolute best callus over that rough patch of skin at the top of your canal.

The you almost falling limp in the middle of a forest flashes through your mind.

And you push with another finger.

It’s… You have to slow down, prod, and experiment, frustrated at yourself about how you’re messing up the flow of your fantasy, and then you discover it feels more natural to do it with your middle and ring fingers rather than your index and pointer.

And, that way…

That way, the heel of your hand presses down on your clit.

And sparks fly off behind your eyelids.

You are breathing about as harshly as the Naruko in the forest, but you know she’s enjoying it far more than you are, even if you’ve already come three times to her two. Your… your orgasms have been just that minor explosion of sensation that quickly dilutes into the ongoing pleasure of a good jilling session, and you have to keep going. You absolutely have to continue and let the fantasy run its course until you see what kind of depraved, incredibly unrealistic, not at all what you actually want, ending it will have.

Because…

Because reasons.

Mostly, that your towel is still not entirely soaked.

He holds you.

He just… holds you.

As you come undone, as your mind crashes around thoughts of Sasuke and what he’s doing to you, as your whole world, for a single moment, revolves around your Bastard…

He holds you.

But his cock is still hard, and he hasn’t cum.

So, it’s only natural that the selfish prick will start fucking you before you come down from your high.

“Wait! I’m still—I’m too sensitive right now!”

“And why is that my problem?” he says, and even if you are currently looking up at green leaves sprouting from a tree that has, for some mysterious reason, some claw marks on its trunk, you can still hear the smirk in his tone.

“Because… Because you care about me?” you ask more than state, desperately grasping for why Sasuke would care that every cock thrust of his is sending such overwhelming sensations through you that they may as well be pain.

He stops.

And the hand massaging your chest goes up your breast bone, up your neck, until it clutches your cheeks and forces you to look back at him.

Into sharingan eyes.

“And what makes you think that?” he asks.

He should be dismissive.

Cocky.

An arrogant prick just trying to get yet another rise out of the short-tempered, short orphan.

But there’s… There’s something murky in his eyes. Something disturbed.

And so you manage to let go of the tree in front of you to cup his cheek.

His skin is softer than you thought it would be, almost as soft as yours, but lacking the peach fuzz you have.

You guess that’s due to shaving. It… It makes him feel smoother than he should be, and for a moment, you think about all the times you fantasized about Iruka and how the short stubble would feel on your neck if he kissed the crook of your shoulder.

You don’t know what you would prefer.

But you know what’s in front of you.

So, struggling for words like you never have before, trying to reach the right thing to say rather than the first one that comes to mind…

You stare right into stormy, crimson, lazily spinning eyes.

“We have… Always. We have always been there. For one another,” you tell him.

“That means nothing,” he immediately answers. “Things that always have been can end.”

You know what he means.

You know it doesn’t apply to you because the things that ended for him never started for you.

You still shake your head.

“Not us,” you say. “I’m going to be the strongest Hokage who ever lived, and you’re going to be the second strongest ninja in the village. Nobody will be strong enough to tear us apart,” you say, the line becoming an oath before you realize it.

“Second strongest?” he asks with an arched eyebrow and not entirely joking offense.

“Second,” you affirm with a very serious nod. And a hint of a smirk.

Then he thrusts his cock inside of you fast and hard enough to make your teeth clench, and your bare breasts jump up.

“I don’t think you’re ever going to win against me, Naruko,” he says, his left hand possessively pressing down on your lower belly while his right holds your face in place.

“Try your best, Bastard,” you answer.

And he, of course, kisses you.

Harder than before, more aggressive as his hips speed up against yours until your ass claps like it did when he spanked you until you came due to the echoes of his strikes traveling through you.

Making you clench, making your thighs drenched, making your mind blank.

But now it isn’t.

Now, it’s filled with him.

With his hands on you, forcing you to remain arched as you take his cock in, as he keeps going in and out of you until you’re on your tiptoes, barely standing up as you’re forced to feel much more than you ever have both above and below.

As Sasuke fucks you into being his.

“You look like you’re having fun,” he says.

And your eyes fly open.

Your middle and ring finger are still blurring in and out of you, the heel of your right hand going back and forth over your achingly hard clitoris, your towel so drenched that you may have to change your sheets.

And he’s standing in the corner of your bedroom.

Looking at you.

With sharingan eyes.

“Wha—what the Hell are you doing here?!” you very politely ask.

“Having fun,” he answers with a shrug that precedes the slow spreading of his cocky grin.

“Fuck off!” you tell him like the very gracious host that you are.

“And miss the rest of the show?”

“What show! There’s no show! And if it was, it would be a show with no audience, which would make it not a show at all, so fuck off!”

He raises an eyebrow.

And then, very deliberately, slowly looks down from your eyes and toward your left hand, all but mauling your right breast.

Then…

Then he looks south.

And, suddenly, you’re blushing for reasons that have nothing to do with you having had five consecutive orgasms.

Or, well, that may have something to do with having just done that and the slowly dawning knowledge that Sasuke has likely been watching you for a significant part of those orgasms.

…

Mutsumi was right. You’re a depraved exhibitionist.

The only reasonable course of action left to you is, of course, to silence the bitch.

They will never find the body. That was a subject you never failed, after all.

Also, why is Sasuke taking off his pants!

“Why are you taking off your pants?!” you say, seeing as your inner monologue kinda had a point that is very valid, and you should address it urgently.

“Reciprocity,” he says with another careless shrug.

And then he grabs his cock.

His red and purple cock.

His red and purple, thick cock that is very much like the one still railing another Naruko in a forest clearing, making her moan and scream through uncomfortable pleasure being forced on her body again and again until only Sasuke and sharingan-red eyes fill her mind as her body submits to urges she has just discovered.

“You… genjutsu?” you ask before most definitely not licking your lips while you keep masturbating because why the Hell are you still masturbating.

Are you a slut? Is that it? Are you willing to flash your whole body to the Bastard so he will lose all self-control and plunge right inside of you, thrusting in and out of your constantly cumming body until he drains his balls inside of you and makes you give him a bastard of his own?

Was Kaolla right?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says as he slides his palm over the purple tip of his cock, leaving it glossier and shiny before sliding down his thick shaft that would stretch you oh so good.

Or, at least, that’s what Forest-Naruko seems to think.

Or not think, as the case may be.

Man, Forest-Naruko is really enjoying herself…

“Don’t get distracted,” he says, right over you.

Jerking his cock right over you.

When did…

Not important.

Not when…

He’s… He really looks like he does in your fantasy, except that his stupid shirt hides his chiseled chest from you.

But the cock? The veiny shaft he keeps rubbing up and down? The hand that is so rough on him while so soft on your breast and belly…

There’s a scent.

And a drop of transparent fluid on top of his tip.

And you’re reaching up with your tongue.

He smirks and makes you want to punch him in the balls right before he lowers himself, his hand going slower than before as he aims at your mouth.

Your open mouth.

That’s…

“No way,” you mutter, your words staggered as you inadvertently tease once more that rough spot inside of you. “There’s absolutely no way my first kiss will be with your cock.”

He leans forward. Over you.

And, with the hand not jerking his cock off right in front of your open lips, he cups your cheek.

It’s… It’s rougher than your own, and you wonder if he’s thinking something like your Forest self did when you cupped his cheek. When you found all the differences and very carefully did not wonder what else you could find behind that spinning sharingan recording every moment of your first time.

In a fantasy.

A fantasy that may or not be a genjutsu.

A genjutsu in which Sasuke is fucking your mind while jerking off to your body.

“I already took your first kiss,” he says, his voice turning into that growl you heard right behind your ear when he claimed you as his.

And you swallow his cock.

Only the tip goes past your lips, the surprisingly salty drop of fluid splashing over your tongue and adding yet another thing to make sparks go off behind your eyes as Sasuke gasps and your fingers speed up.

He’s… He’s not stretching your lips like you thought he would, but the thickest part of him is still outside, and you feel the warmth and pressure, the hardness under the yielding softness of the surprisingly smooth tip.

“Naruko…” he growls.

And your thighs clench around your frantically moving hand.

It’s… You didn’t know you needed that. That feeling of something sliding between your legs, and you exaggerate the movement, broadening the strokes over your clitoris as your hips curl up, as if asking…

As if asking for a body to be between your thighs. For fit hips to be the ones brushing back and forth over sensitive skin as something thicker than two fingers go in and out of you.

For a reassuring weight to push you into your mattress.

For sharingan red eyes to memorize all the faces you would make while he took your first time.

Took you.

Made you his.

Forest You has her breasts pushed against rough bark, but it’s just the right amount of roughness, your rippling flesh sending more and more sparks through you as Sasuke fucks you against the tree while you babble and try to tell him anything other than ‘More,’ ‘Don’t stop,’ and ‘Breed me!’

Forest You may be a bit of a slut.

But You-You?

Well…

You’re just jilling yourself to Forest You and to Sasuke’s cock being inside your mouth, even if he isn’t grabbing your twin tails and—

He’s grabbing your twin tails!

Or, well, the right one, because he’s still cupping your cheek, and looking at you with a complicated expression that looks very much like someone trying not to grin in a silly way.

“You don’t have a clue how maddening these are, do you?” he asks, his fingers gently caressing your blonde hair before twisting it around his wrist.

You nod.

Which ends up with your eyes flying wide open as he does stretch your lips with a thicker part of his cock than what you already had inside your mouth.

Your left hand slides just a bit and goes from mauling your breast to pinching your rock-hard nipple as a moan escapes past the thick shaft sliding past your hungry lips, and then, your knees curled up almost to your chest, your plunge your fingers as deep as they can go.

Which is not as deep as he would go.

And, like your Forest self, you’re filled above and below, overwhelmed by everything running in between.

She trashes in her Sasuke’s grip, once again cumming around his cock as he speeds up faster than you thought he could go.

And your Sasuke slowly goes in and out of you, grunting when you finally decide to get your tongue involved, to taste him, to explore him, and run your tip over those protruding veins that feel delightful when they slide in and out of you and would feel even better if he grabbed your wrist and forced you to stop touching yourself, keeping you in waiting, eager need before he fucking claimed you once and for all, defeating you in the only way you’ll ever acknowledge, making you moan his name, beg for him to give you everything that slut in the Forest is so happily getting over and over again—

“Mine,” he growls.

Your eyes fly open.

Sharingan red meets them.

Your heel pushes down on your clit in just the right way.

You jerkily brush past that damnably sensitive rough patch inside of you.

And your tongue goes frantic over his tip, your head bobbing up and down as far as you can go until you feel him stretch the opening of your throat and your eyes roll back.

Then Sasuke mutters something that you don’t hear, and a warm, viscous, salty, delicious fluid spills over your tongue.

And your whole world goes white.

Something rocks you up, your legs kicking straight as your pussy clenches around your fingers, and—

He speeds up, faster and harsher, his wordless breathing telling you everything you need to know as he keeps stirring the molten heat inside of you, the thing in your belly begging to be filled by him and only him, by everything that he can give you.

“Naruko,” he growls in the same way that he said ‘Mine.’

“Yes!” you answer without thinking. “Give it to me! Give me a family!”

The hand on your belly clutches you possessively, and that’s enough for the last spark inside your head to turn into a bonfire right before he shoots inside of you, every jerk of his thick member giving you another spurt of potential children, of black-haired brats that will argue pointlessly just to be infuriating before you give them a noogie and share a happy smile with the man making you his forever and ever, filling you with his cock, his cum, and everything you never admitted you wanted.

Your whole world becomes a white light as you shake and shiver, as the drenched towel underneath you slides all over your bed as you cum and keep on cumming, harder than you ever have as two Naruko’s become one, all of them filled by Sasuke’s seed, craving for more of it, for as much as he can give you until even that urge is burned away by the fire inside your head growing until it takes everything away except the overwhelming ecstasy.

And then white is replaced by black.

When you regain your senses, your room smells disgusting.

Like, ‘spoiled milk’ disgusting.

Like, ‘Kanako’s lunchbox after your righteous retribution’ disgusting.

… Okay, maybe not that bad.

But bad enough that you ponder the merit of maybe using two towels next time you masturbate to fantasies of Sasuke—

Wait a fucking second.

You open your eyes and find the room empty of black-haired jerks with deep, soulful, crimson eyes that—

Fuck.

Okay, okay, reality check. First of all:

“Kai!”

As usual, nothing changes when you (after three failed attempts in which your arms, for some mysterious reason, refuse to move up from the bed) do the stupid hand sign and pulse your chakra, once again proving that, no, your whole life isn’t a cruel prank somebody has decided to inflict on an innocent girl with an actually functional and happy family.

Drats.

But… Yeah. You currently aren’t trapped in a genjutsu, even if Sasuke’s eyes of fucking make-believe could easily catch you in one of those for pranking purposes.

Or, you know, sexual purposes.

So… second reality check:

Does your mouth taste funny?

…

You don’t know.

The room reeks of sweat and other fluids, so maybe that’s why it tastes like something died, and decided to hold a quick funeral over your cork-dry tongue.

Or maybe it’s because of Sasuke’s leftover cum.

The fact that you’ve never (no, never, Motoko) sucked a cock before, human or nin-dog, kinda makes it hard to know whether, you know, you just did.

Sooo… that basically leaves two options:

One: Sasuke used his eyes of cheating cheater who cheats to pull you into a genjutsu to fuck both your mind and body at once, making you cum over and over again until you blacked out with his delicious cock in your mouth.

And then he left.

Like a jerk.

Or two, and this is far worse…

You started a perfectly normal, healthy for a young girl with no slutty tendencies at all, masturbatory session thinking about your Dilfy teacher and ended up fantasizing about the Bastard, getting carried away to the point of hallucinating his actual presence in your room, making him say all the right things for you to melt into compliance and become his eager cocksucker.

…

Nope.

Nope. Definitely not.

This hasn’t happened.

And, as soon as you can do something other than a crappy Kai attempt, you’re going to find him and kick his balls in.

Or, well, at least roll away from your still-drenched towel.

…

Any time now.

***

In the end, you didn’t find him to kick his balls in.

Neither did you roll away from the towel.

Which means that this morning you woke up in dire need of an extra long shower, something you always despise because the hot water doesn’t last long enough for you to get rid of all the evidence—signs of exertion.

So. A cold shower.

… You reluctantly admit that may not have been the worst thing to do after last night’s events.

Because, despite it all, your brain keeps circling back to what happened, what could have happened, what most definitely didn’t happen, and what you aren’t about to fantasize about wanting to happen…

Let’s just say that the morning has been filled with plenty of happenings.

And not happenings.

This may account for you leisurely walking to the meeting point rather than jumping across rooftops like you usually would, and…

And that’s how you end up running into Sasuke.

A blushing Sasuke.

Who is licking his lips, trying to make eye contact, and then looking away before rubbing the back of his head.

…

No.

No. Fuck, no.

“Sasuke… did… did you—” you start to say, not quite knowing how you’ll end that sentence.

“I… It was just a prank, bro?” he asks.

He has the gall to fucking ask.

And so you give him the sweetest smile you have ever given anyone who wasn’t holding a bowl of ramen.

And kick his nuts in.

Then, as you kneel by the side of the ball of agony letting out a high-pitched whimper that is causing a howling ruckus to come out of the Inuzuka compound, you most definitely don’t think about kissing it better.

Or about how cute black-haired kids with whisker marks on their cheeks would look.

Yeah, you don’t think about that.

At all.

 

====================

This was a small extra I wrote because I felt guilty about my lacking productivity as of late. It started as an abandoned omake for a now defunct (fantastic) quest called Sauce Quest on QQ, and I should’ve been able to finish it in less than an hour.

Then the damn thing ballooned into almost 9k words, veered into original material, and became the current monstrosity you’ve now just read.

Because I’m great at time management and scope creep, apparently.

Anyway, hopefully you enjoyed my little bout of guilty conscience. My subscribers allegedly did two weeks ago, back when this was still hidden behind the exclusivity period from which it should’ve likely never have emerged to strike an unsuspecting, innocent world.

As always, I’d like to thank my credited supporters on Patreon: aj0413, Niklarus, Tinkerware, Varosch, and Xalgeon. If you feel like maybe giving them a hand with keeping me in the writing business (and getting an early peek at my chapters before they go public, among other perks), consider joining them or buying one of my books on Amazon. Thank you for reading!