My mind raced as I turned to look at the door where the source of that cough stood.
I had talked a big game, it occurred to me, not caring about consequences. Going with the flow and where it leads me. But, honestly, that was mostly my dick talking, when my balls were aching and full and all the blood had left my brain for more southern regions.
In truth, when all the rush settled, I cared about consequences. I cared a fair fucking bit, actually.
Wasn't that the whole reason I'd held back from taking Ino's virginity, so far? This tender, willing little flower who'd shamelessly tempted and begged to be plucked? I could have. God knows I'd wanted to. But I didn't. I'd shown restraint specifically to avoid this kind of situation—
And now all that careful control might be for nothing. Well, I did get a good blowjob. I couldn't call it nothing.
In the heavy, loaded silence that followed that single cough, Noriko Yamanaka's calm voice cut through the air.
"Ino, I do hope all those flowers scattered on the floor are part of an arrangement for a customer," she said, her tone perfectly measured, not at all what you would expect from a mother walking in to her daughter. "Rather than simply being part of the floor display."
"Mom!" Ino's voice came out somewhere between a shout and a stutter. She scrambled backward—or tried to, her legs still unsteady—attempting to cover herself even though she was technically still wearing clothes. Just... clothes liberally decorated with my cum.
I understood the impulse. Oddly enough, I did. I felt oddly exposed in front of this woman and that had nothing to do with having my dick literally out. Which was bizarre, because I'd never had exposure issues before.
Hell, I was usually the opposite of prudish—I'd happily show my friend to anyone who—
No, wait. That didn't sound right. That made me sound like some kind of serial exhibitionist with a public indecency charge waiting to happen.
Still, something about Noriko Yamanaka's presence made me feel like a servant caught sitting at a noble's table. Aware of every misplaced breath, every ounce of impropriety..
So I did what I always did when feeling exposed, I covered it with bravado.
I smiled, big and bright, raised one hand in a casual wave, and said, "Hi, Noriko-san! Lovely to see you. How are you doing?"
I made absolutely no move to cover myself.
Yeah, I might actually have a bone of exhibitionism.
Noriko Yamanaka stood in the doorway of her own shop like she owned not just the space but the very air within it. Which, technically, she did. But it was more than that.
And she wasn't one bit looking disturbed or outraged with…. well, all the fucking this.
Ino's mom was a slender woman, average height, with an elegant posture refined over years of formal training. Not shinobi training—no, this was something else entirely. This was the bearing of nobility, of careful cultivation. Every line of her body was polished, ladylike, and graceful to a fault.
Her chestnut-brown hair was pulled into a severe bun, secured with a red cloth headband that matched the pendant at her throat. A few strands framed her face—probably intentional, because nothing about Noriko seemed accidental. Her features were soft but refined, an oval face with a straight nose, calm light-brown eyes that revealed nothing, and pale lips pressed into a line that wasn't quite a frown but definitely wasn't a smile.
She wore a high-collared dress in dark teal that fit her frame with tailored precision. The hem reached mid-calf with a narrow front slit for movement, conservative but somehow elegant. Standard dark sandals with ankle wraps completed the ensemble—practical but refined, blending the aesthetic of Fire Country nobility with the pragmatism of a woman who'd married into a shinobi clan.
But what struck me most wasn't her appearance. It was her presence. The absolute stillness of her, the way she moved into the room with unhurried grace, like she had all the time in the world to address this situation. Like finding her teenage daughter covered in cum and kneeling next to a man with his dick out was merely an inconvenience requiring proper handling rather than a crisis.
It was unnerving as hell.
She ignored my greeting entirely, walking past us to set her bags on a side table with movements so controlled they could have been choreographed.
"I confess," she said, her voice maintaining that maddeningly calm cadence, "I found myself uncertain whether to interrupt. You both seemed quite... absorbed in your activities. It created something of a dilemma—the choice between propriety and consideration for your privacy. Though I suppose the locked door during business hours resolved that particular quandary."
"Mama, it's not—this isn't—" Ino stammered, making a shaky attempt to stand before collapsing back down. She clutched at my thigh for balance. Her face was absurdly close to my dick. Close enough that she might as well have been using it as a microphone for all the distance it provided to her protests.
"Not what it appears?" Noriko cut her off smoothly, not even turning to look. "Please, Ino. I was young once. That particular excuse has an abysmal success rate throughout history. I'd hoped you might show more creativity."
I kept the smile on my face, though it was getting harder to maintain. This woman was acting like there was no elephant in the room. Or rather, no exposed dick and cum-covered daughter in the room. It was pissing me off more and more.
"With respect, Noriko-san," I said, deploying my most charming tone, "I'd argue you're still young. A woman of your grace and beauty hardly qualifies for the past tense."
Ino shot me a glare that I couldn't quite interpret. Was she telling me to shut up? Was she jealous that I was complimenting her mother? Both?
Whatever it was, it made my dick twitch and poke her on the cheek.
Her glare softened immediately, her eyes going unfocused again as she leaned slightly into the contact. Her hand, I noticed, was still working between her thighs.
She still doesn't have all her mental faculties back. Shouldn't she be more panicked than this? Hell, more panicked than me?
Noriko's gaze shifted to me, and the temperature in the room dropped several degrees.
"Do not," she said, her voice still perfectly composed but carrying an edge like frost on steel, "insult my intelligence with meaningless flattery. Particularly while your... anatomy remains so prominently displayed."
I was genuinely impressed that she hadn't once looked down at my, uh, exposed anatomy. Not even a glance. Also slightly offended.
"At least your daughter seems to appreciate it," I shot back before I could stop myself.
Noriko's expression didn't change, but her eyes moved to Ino.
Yet, I still felt a bit vindicated.
Ino was leaning forward, biting her lower lip, staring at my dick with half-lidded eyes that practically radiated want. Her fingers were still moving between her thighs in small, rhythmic circles that were absolutely not subtle.
I didn't want to throw her under the carriage like this, but seriously—what the actual fuck?
I knew insanity was rampant in the shinobi world. I'd accepted that as baseline reality. But this was something else entirely.
The mother was standing here discussing the situation like it were a mild breach of etiquette rather than finding her daughter in a profoundly compromising position. And the daughter was so thoroughly lost to her own needs that she couldn't even muster the appropriate level of mortification.
I knew some mothers and daughters had strong bonds. That they could share secrets, confide in each other about relationships and intimacy. But not like this. Not with this level of... whatever the hell this was.
Noriko sighed, a small, disappointed sound that somehow carried more weight than a shout would have.
"Your father," she said to Ino, her tone shifting to something that might have been maternal disappointment if it weren't so perfectly controlled, "has always maintained you're the spitting image of me at your age. I shall have to correct that particular assessment. I was never quite so... careless with my discretion. Nor so incapable of basic situational awareness."
Ino ducked her head, finally seeming to register her mother's presence enough to react. "Sorry, Mama," she mumbled, her voice small. And that was all she could say.
I was starting to feel bad for my little flower. I didn't have parents—not in this life nor the way it mattered in the last—but I'd heard that disappointing them was supposed to hurt.
Then I noticed her hand was still between her legs.
My turn to sigh.
I'd really fried her brain too thoroughly. She was still lost in the pink-hued haze of overstimulation and need that she couldn't even properly process her mother's disappointment.
Such a little slut.
Noriko shook her head and turned her attention to me as if this were somehow my fault.
Which... alright, maybe it was. A little bit. Or a lot.
But to be fair, it was also her fault. She was the one who'd birthed this temptress. And she was the one making me feel completely off-balance right now.
What the fuck is even happening right now?
I had no idea, and I was gradually feeling more and more exposed despite my earlier bravado.
"I must admit, Sasayaki-san," Noriko said, her eyes meeting mine with that unreadable calm, "I'm uncertain whether to be appalled by your audacity or... impressed by your lack of shame. Most young men would have attempted to flee by now."
I deepened my smile, forcing confidence I didn't entirely feel. "I assure you, Noriko-san, I'm equally uncertain how to feel about this situation. But I've never been one to run from uncomfortable conversations. It seems discourteous."
She nodded as if that made perfect sense.
Which it didn't. None of this made sense.
I'd known Ino's mother for a while now, as I courted and charmed the daughter. She'd always given the impression of a composed noble lady, often intervening when her husband was rightfully losing it.
But I hadn't realized she was so composed that even walking in on this scene wouldn't fully faze her. Oh, she was angry. She was disappointed. But the intensity was all wrong—too measured, too controlled, like she was managing a business inconvenience rather than a family crisis.
First, Kushina. Now this. Lately, it seemed that Milfs in this village had apparently taken up confusing the hell out of me as a hobby.
"I believe," Noriko said, turning back to organize her bags with unhurried precision, "it would be best if you take your leave. This space requires tidying, and the... atmosphere has become rather unsuitable for continued business operations."
I wasn't sure if she meant cleaning up the scattered flowers or cleaning up the mess that was Ino. The mess I'd made.
"Sure," I said, then added, because I was feeling oddly contrarian, "as soon as Ino finishes the bouquet I came here for." I looked down at my little flower and pushed my hips forward slightly, poking her in the forehead with my still-exposed dick. "Right, Ino?"
I watched Noriko carefully for her reaction.
Her eyebrow twitched. Just once. That was it. I wanted to click my tongue; I would be losing more ground to her if I did.
Ino made a soft, absent sound of agreement, her eyes still fixed on my dick like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
"….I think not," Noriko said smoothly after a pause. She moved to the counter, selected a sheet of paper, and began folding it into a cone with practiced efficiency. "Ino is clearly not in a state to provide quality service. I'll prepare your arrangement myself."
She walked to the flower displays.
"Besides," she continued, not looking at me, "I imagine you'll be quite busy elsewhere. Given recent... developments. The Mizukage's death has created considerable uncertainty. I'm sure the Hokage will require your attention."
The mention of the political situation was like a bucket of ice water.
Reality came crashing back. I sighed and finally tucked myself back into my pants.
Ino made a small, disappointed noise.
"What type of flowers?" Noriko asked, her tone perfectly professional. "And for what occasion?"
"I'll leave it to your expertise, ma'am," I said. "It's for someone who's... expecting. New beginnings and all that."
She nodded, already selecting blooms with the efficient grace of someone who'd done this thousands of times.
I watched her work for a moment, still trying to process what the hell had just happened. Then I looked down at Ino, who was still kneeling on the floor, still flushed and messy and utterly debauched.
"You should probably clean up, little flower," I said softly. She would mostly feel bad about this when the haze was lifted.
She blinked up at me, a silver awareness finally starting to return to her eyes. Then she nodded slowly, but I doubt she fully understood, just being my sweet little girt.
"I—Mama, I'm—"
"Later, Ino," Noriko said without turning around. When she finished, she wrapped the bouquet in elegant paper and tied it with a cream ribbon. Only then did she turn to face me.
"The back door," she said, extending the bouquet. "I think it's best you exit through the back. For discretion's sake."
I took the flowers, our fingers not quite touching in the exchange.
"Thank you, Noriko-san," I said. "For the flowers. And for... your restraint."
"I'm not doing this for you," she said calmly. "I'm doing it for my daughter. Who, despite her many poor choices, deserves better than to have her indiscretions become village gossip."
That stung more than I expected.
"I care about her," I said, and was surprised by my own openness. "I know it doesn't look like it, but—"
"What it looks like," Noriko interrupted, her voice still perfectly controlled but carrying an edge, "is that you're a young man with considerable charm, minimal impulse control, and an unfortunate tendency to confuse desire with devotion. Ino is young, impressionable, and clearly infatuated. That combination creates... complications."
She paused, and for the first time, I saw something flicker in her eyes. Not anger. Something more complicated.
"My husband warned her to stay away from you. She ignored him. That's her choice—foolish though it may be. But understand this, Sasayaki-san, if you truly care for my daughter as you claim, you'll consider what's best for her future. Not simply what satisfies your immediate wants."
Before I could respond, she turned away, moving to gather the scattered flowers from the floor.
"The back door," she repeated. "Now, please."
I headed toward the back of the shop, bouquet in hand, my mind still reeling.
Just before I reached the door, I heard Ino's voice.
"Mama, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"
"We'll discuss it later," Noriko said, her voice carrying that same measured calm. "After we've done cleaning you up."
I paused at the door.
I stood there for a moment, bouquet in hand, dick finally soft, and thought.
What the actual fuck just happened?
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