I stared down at the kneeling woman, watching her shoulders rise and fall with each labored breath as she gazed at my cock like it held the secrets of the fucking universe. The intensity in those green eyes made my skin crawl in a way that had nothing to do with arousal and everything to do with self-preservation.
My paranoia kicked into overdrive.
The absurd thought flickered through my mind—some jilted kunoichi I'd fucked and forgotten, disguised to the gills, waiting for the perfect moment to separate me from my favorite appendage. It was ridiculous. Why would anyone go through that much effort? But then again, I'd slept with enough vengeful kunoichi in the past few years that the odds weren't exactly zero. Maybe they'd concluded the sex was good enough that they didn't need the rest of me. Just the parts that mattered. Maybe Yugito had finally tracked me down and figured that if she couldn't have the D, nobody could.
Just in case, I swept my chakra through her system for the third time in as many minutes, probing for the telltale density of trained coils, the compact efficiency of a shinobi's network. Nothing. Just the weak, meandering pathways of a civilian who'd never pushed chakra through a single exercise in her life.
I almost laughed at my own paranoia. Almost.
"Are you planning to stare at it until it performs a trick, Mebuki?" I cleared my throat, forcing a smirk I didn't entirely feel. "Or are you going to do something about it?"
Her eyes didn't leave my cock. Her tongue darted out, wetting those red-painted lips in a way that should've been hot but instead landed somewhere in the uncanny valley of too eager, too focused.
"I'm just... appreciating it," she murmured, her voice distant and dreamy. "Quality should never be rushed, Eishin-sama. Especially when it's this..." She trailed off, her breath coming faster. "...potent."
I raised a brow. "Potent?"
She blinked, the dazed expression fracturing as she seemed to snap back to herself. A too-bright smile spread across her face, one merchant wore when they were trying to sell you something you didn't need.
"Strong," she corrected quickly, her manicured hand reaching out to wrap around the base of my shaft. Her dainty fingers barely met around the girth, and she made a small sound of appreciation in the back of her throat as she squeezed experimentally. "Virile." Her thumb stroked along the underside with the careful reverence of someone handling a religious artifact. "You know what I mean. A man like you... everything about you is truly exceptional."
The sensation of her soft hand was good, with just enough pressure to feel deliberate. She handled my cock like it was made of spun glass and gold, every stroke measured and worshipful.
"I want to make sure," she breathed, her eyelashes fluttering as she leaned closer, "I don't waste a single drop."
"…. right," I said, suppressing the urge to take a half-step back.
I didn't know what to think of that. Mebuki was really good at handling both a cock and a man's ego; I had to give her that, even if it bordered on the eerie. I'd fucked her good last time, sure, pounded her into the mattress until she was a babbling mess, but not that good. Not good enough to justify this level of obsession. She was staring at my cock like an addict eyeing their fix, like a gambler watching the dice roll, like someone who'd found religion in the worst possible place.
But then my dick was painfully hard in her grip, and my brain decided that the why didn't matter nearly as much as the what.
I reached down and grabbed the hem of her sundress, yanking it up and off in one smooth motion. She gasped, her arms flying up automatically as the fabric slid over her head, mussing her carefully styled hair. I tossed the dress behind me without looking.
"There," I said with a smirk. "Now we're both properly dressed for the occasion."
"Eishin-sama!" she breathed, her voice dripping with affected scandal even as her eyes gleamed with excitement. "So impatient. I was hoping to tease you a little longer."
I hummed and took a moment to appreciate the view. From my vantage point, looking down, Mebuki Haruno was a conflicting mess of civilian mediocrity and forbidden fruit.
Kneeling naked between my legs was a married woman, a mother, and the sight scratched an itch I hadn't known needed scratching. Her skin was pale, smooth in some places and showing the inevitable softening of middle age in others. Her thighs were spread wide, shameless, and I could see the glistening evidence of her arousal coating her inner thighs, dripping from her bare, waxed cunt.
As per her admission, she'd indeed prepared for this. Probably spent an hour in the bathroom making sure every inch of herself was presentable, because that's what women like Mebuki did—they treated seduction like a competition they couldn't afford to lose.
My gaze traveled up, taking in the curve of her wide hips, the slight roundness of her stomach that she probably hated but I found oddly appealing in the moment, the shallow dip of her belly button. Her tits were modest—B-cups at best—with a slight sag that spoke to age and gravity doing their inevitable work. The nipples were already hard, dusty pink areolas pebbled with arousal, each nipple the size of a pencil eraser. Not perfect, not perky, but real in a way that made the whole tableau even hotter.
She wasn't a warrior. She wasn't fit. She was a middle-aged mother, soft and weak, kneeling naked in a hotel room while her daughter watched from the closet three feet away.
And that context made her prettier than any supermodel in the Bingo Book.
She noticed my appraisal and her smile turned smug, proud. She reached up to her chest with her free hand, pinching and pulling at her nipple with shameless deliberation, putting on a show while her other hand began stroking my shaft with renewed purpose.
"Do you like what you see, Eishin-sama?" she purred, tugging harder, stretching the skin, offering it to me like a treat, making herself gasp. "I've kept myself soft... unlike those calloused, butch kunoichi. A powerful man like you deserves a soft place to return to, doesn't he?"
Damn, she is really….
My cock jumped in her grip, and her green eyes widened in delight. She tracked the movement with laser focus. Her expression shifted again, that drunk, dazed look sliding back over her features. She leaned in, abandoning the pretense of conversation, and pressed her nose right against the head of my penis.
She inhaled deeply, audibly, sniffing me like I was a line of cocaine, and made a sound that was half-moan, half-sigh.
"Oh, heavens," she whispered, surprised and delighted. "I can smell it... you're backed up, aren't you? All that potential... all that life." Then, quieter, like she was talking to my cock instead of me. "Don't worry. Mommy's going to drain every bit of it out of you." She giggled, a low, throaty sound that was far too unhinged for a PTA meeting. "I'm just as eager for you to give me everything." Her eyes fluttered closed, and she nuzzled against the length with disturbing affection. "Every. Last. Drop."
She had dropped all sense of prosperity and respectable behavior she had tried to maintain, even if barely. It goes against her status-conscious and vain self she had shown so far. Instead, she was looking at my shaft with the same obsession her daughter looked at Sasuke,
I'm positively crept out, alright. But hey, each had its crazy, I guess. And, to be fair, I had slept with crazier so….
The hot puffs of her breath ghosted against the sensitive skin of my shaft before she even made contact, sending a shiver straight up my spine. Then came her cheek—smooth, dusted with expensive powder that was fighting a losing battle against the sweat of her earlier exertion. She nuzzled against the length of me like a cat marking its territory, the friction of her face against my skin maddeningly erotic.
It got worse—or better—when a bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip. Instead of recoiling, Mebuki smeared her cheek right through it, slicking the clear fluid across her skin across her cheekbone, leaving a thin, glossy trail like it was some high-end moisturizer. She didn't wipe it off. She paused, inhaled sharply, and hummed.
"Musk," she murmured, eyes half-lidded. "Pure, undiluted male virility. It smells like...."
Then she switched cheeks.
The left side of her face pressed against my shaft, dragging slowly from base to tip, leaving a matching streak of fluid on that side too. She was marking herself. Intentionally. Her lips parted slightly, and she inhaled deeply through her nose, sniffing hard enough that I could hear it.
I was torn between being incredibly flattered and profoundly creeped out. It was the kind of validation that fed the ego while simultaneously setting off the 'crazy bitch' alarm in the back of my head. I honestly didn't think anyone but Mebuki Haruno could make me feel this conflicted cocktail of arousal and concern.
Odder still, I wasn't much against it.
I reached down, threading my fingers through her blonde hair, gripping the strands at the scalp. She looked up at me with those glassy green eyes, still rubbing her face against my cock like a rabbit in rut, twitching and ready to be humped senseless.
"We've played enough," I growled, tugging her head back slightly. "Time to show me what you're actually capable of."
A smirk curled her lips—lustful, proud, and far too self-satisfied. "Oh, handsome, you have no idea what a real woman can—mmph!"
I cut her off mid-sentence by yanking her forward and driving my cock straight into her open mouth.
Ghk!
Her eyes bulged, the green irises snapping wide in genuine shock. Her lips struggled to wrap around the girth, her tongue flattening instinctively in panic, like it didn't know what to do with the intrusion. It was a tight, awkward fit—dry at first, teeth scraping perilously close to the head in a way that screamed absolute inexperience.
It was obvious. This was her first time.
I looked down at her, meeting those startled green eyes, watching her try to form words around my dick. "Mmmf! Mmmmph!"
"Relax your jaw," I commanded, looking down at her surprised expression and the muffled sounds of protest caught in her throat. "Finally found a use for your mouth for something better than bitching."
She glared, indignant, offended, and outraged, but I ignored it completely.
I didn't have the patience for her games anymore. I just wanted to fuck the energy out of my system, make her take the weight of my lust, and be done with it.
I pushed her head down, forcing more of my length into her inexperienced mature mouth, spreading her jaw wider. I didn't go all the way. Even if she was a masochist, she still needed to acclimate. The tip of my cock barely passed her teeth before I pulled her back up, then slowly guided her down again, getting her used to the rhythm and the intrusion.
Whether it was because I'd ignored her protests, or because of the natural submission of a status-chaser realizing she had a superior officer in her mouth, or just because she genuinely liked having my dick in her mouth—the latter seemed ridiculous, but given how she'd been absolutely star-struck, it was probably the truth—she relaxed. Fast.
Mebuki had clearly deemed oral sex beneath her, or perhaps something she simply didn't do because it wasn't 'ladylike.' Her tongue was clumsy, her lips stiff.
But damn if the woman wasn't eager to learn. It was alarming how quickly she switched gears.
Her hand on my thigh stopped pushing. Her jaw slackened. Her tongue, which had been rigid and useless, started to shift, tentative at first, then bolder.
By the fifth stroke, she stopped scraping her teeth. By the seventh, her tongue started to swirl, tentatively exploring the ridge. By the tenth, the hesitation vanished, replaced by a terrifying, ravenous hunger.
She started bobbing her head on her own volition, ignoring my hands, gobbling my meat like it was her last meal on earth. Like a drowning woman sucking oxygen from a tank. Like a starving wolf tearing into a fresh kill.
Her tongue went from shy and hesitant to eager and exploratory in real time. It started circling the head, tracing the ridge, pressing into the slit to taste more precum. She hollowed her cheeks, creating suction that made my hips jerk forward involuntarily.
She took me deeper, pushing past her comfort zone with reckless abandon.
This bitch was a fucking carnivore. She wanted my meat, and she wasn't going to stop until she'd devoured every inch.
Hrk-gullk!
She slammed into her limit. Her throat convulsed around me, tight and hot, causing her to gag violently. Saliva spilled from the corners of her mouth, dripping all over, but she didn't pull back. She held herself there, face flushed, eyes tearing up, forcing her throat to accept the intrusion until the spasms subsided into a rhythmic, milking squeeze.
She was gobbling my cock like a famine survivor at a feast, like a drunk downing the last bottle in the house, like a gambler going all-in on a losing hand.
The middle-aged woman held herself there, half my dick in her mouth and the tip jaming her throat, tears streaming down her face, makeup running, until the gagging stopped and her throat relaxed.
Then she looked up at me.
Those teary green eyes locked onto mine, and whatever she saw in my expression made her look smug. Proud. Even impaled on my dick like that. It was a dark, twisted pride.
I grit my teeth harder.
I'd allow that kind of challenge from Anko. But who the fuck did this slut think she was to look at me like she'd just conquered a summit? Like she was proud of herself for choking on my cock? She barely took half of it.
I'd been close to cumming since the moment I'd shoved my dick in her mouth—I hadn't bothered holding back with her—but now? Now I wanted to outlast her. To make her work for it. To wipe that smug expression off her face.
The housewife seemed to sense the shift. She weaponized her throat and started spasming again—but this time, it was intentional. She was doing it on purpose, massaging my cock with rhythmic contractions, her tongue working overtime against the underside.
Fuck.
This was her first time with a cock in her mouth, I was sure. This was her first time, yet….
The sensation was impossible. It was like being inside a living, breathing machine designed specifically to drain me dry. The pressure was perfect, the heat unbearable, the wetness obscene.
My vision blurred at the edges, and I had to bite my lip hard just to endure it. Fighting the urge to unload right then and there. I couldn't give her the satisfaction. If I came now, because of her trick, she'd chalk this up as a victory. She'd walk out of here thinking she had conquered the "beast," that she had tamed the Jounin. Her ego would inflate back to its usual unbearable size, and she'd forget her place immediately. She'd start thinking she had power over me, that she could walk all over me the way she did her spineless husband.
Eventually, she ran out of air before I ran out of restraint.
She released my cock with a wet pop, pulling back and gasping for breath. Her chest heaved as she gulped down lungfuls of air, her face a complete disaster.
Sakura's mom was a wreck. Her "perfect" face was streaked with running black mascara and tears. A long string of saliva connected her chin to her chest. Her legs were still twitching periodically, her thighs trembling. And my dick... my dick looked like a candy cane, marked with bright red rings from her lipstick, circling the shaft like trophies of war.
She swallowed hard, wiping a smear of spit from her chin but missing most of it. Then, she flashed me a wet grin, red-stained, and absolutely whorish.
"See?" she panted, her voice wrecked and husky but dripping with satisfaction. "You won't get this kind of treatment from those hard-faced kunoichi, will you, Eishin-sama? A real woman knows how to please a man properly." She caressed my cock with both hands, spreading her own saliva all over it fondly. "And you... you're so virile. So strong. And you weren't quick to…." She shook her head and muttered under her breath, "No, the most divine essence is always the hardest to extract. Even if I'd liked….."
I stared down at her, my jaw tight, my cock still throbbing in her grip.
Yeah. This bitch seemed to have a short memory.
Time to remind her once and for all. And perhaps cure whatever was wrong with her in the process.
— — — — — — — — — — —
You can read up to 8 chapters ahead at patreon.com/vizem